The Drifter

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  14

  LEIGH JUMPED from the desk chair uttering a very unladylike oath. “You’re sure? It’s not just a dust devil?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Leigh swore again and punched in the Rural-Metro Fire Department’s number on the telephone. After consulting with the dispatcher, she hung up and called the bunkhouse. “We’ve got a fire up at the mouth of Rogue Canyon,” she said. “Rural-Metro’s going to see if they can line up some choppers with buckets. Have Curtis, Rusty and Jack start hosing down the corrals. The rest of you get shovels and mount up.” She replaced the receiver and glanced at Chase. “Could you tell which way the wind was blowing?”

  “East, I’d say.”

  “So unless the wind shifts, the ranch won’t be in danger, but an easterly wind could blow that sucker up the canyon, right toward our summer pasture and our herd. Ever fought a brushfire before?”

  “Nope.” He relished the challenge of protecting the True Love. As a bonus, fighting the fire would take his mind off Amanda.

  “Go get on your oldest clothes and meet me back here in five minutes.” Leigh grimaced. “I hate to do this, but I’m calling Ry and Freddy on Mount Lemmon. They’d want to be here. Happy honeymoon.”

  “Yeah.” Chase started to say something about the True Love Curse, but the ringing telephone stopped him.

  Leigh grabbed it. “Yeah? Just a minute. I’ll check.” She covered the mouthpiece with one hand. “Curtis wants to know if Amanda and the baby are back from their ride yet.”

  Fear whacked him in the chest. “Their what?”

  “Ride. You didn’t know about it?”

  “No, I didn’t know about it. Let me talk to him.” Chase crossed to the desk and took the receiver from Leigh. “What’s this about a ride?”

  “She said it would be a short one, Chase. But that was almost three hours ago.” Curtis sounded scared. “Took the baby in that cradleboard. I thought about tagging along, but I thought you’d get mad.”

  Chase didn’t want to waste time debating that issue. “I’ll find her.” He pressed the disconnect button and dialed the cottage. No answer. He dumped the receiver into the cradle. “Let me check out front. Maybe she’s just coming in or something,” he said to Leigh before dashing toward the front porch.

  He willed her to be riding down the lane as he flung open the front door. She wasn’t. He stepped out on the porch and strained to see down the dusty road. No Amanda. The little bit of coffee he’d drunk tasted like acid on his tongue.

  “Went that way,” Dexter said.

  Chase whirled and glanced at the old cowboy sitting in his cane chair, Chloe at his feet. “Which way, Dexter?”

  “That way.” Dexter jerked his thumb over his right shoulder in the direction of Rogue Canyon.

  Chase tried to calm his rolling stomach and deny what he knew in his bones to be true. “How do you know? You can’t see the fork in the road from here.”

  Dexter gestured toward his walker. “I visited... no...followed her. She went slow.”

  Leigh came out on the porch, her truck keys in one hand and Ry’s cellular phone in the other. “No sign of her?”

  Chase felt his chest tightening, his back threatening to spasm. He couldn’t allow that now. “I think she might be up in Rogue Canyon,” he said quietly.

  “Oh, God. The fire.”

  Dexter clutched her sleeve. “Fire?”

  “There’s a fire at the mouth of Rogue Canyon, Dex,” she said. She laid a hand on Chase’s arm. “Maybe she’s on her way back.”

  “Maybe.” He spoke in a monotone, afraid any emotion might start a reaction inside that would leave him screaming with the terror he felt at the possibility that Amanda and Bart were trapped in the canyon by the fire.

  “Forget changing clothes,” Leigh said. “We can always get new clothes. We’ll just go to the stables. I’ll bet she’ll be there when we arrive.”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.” Chase jogged to the truck, his gut filled with tension.

  Leigh was right behind him. They both piled in and she started the truck. The back tires spit dirt and gravel as she peeled out. “I’m sure she’s out of there by now, Chase.”

  “And I think you’re trying your damnedest to deny what we both know. Be honest with me, Leigh. You’re supposed to have these psychic powers. Where is she?”

  Leigh wouldn’t answer him, which was as good as an answer.

  He slammed the door panel with his fist. “What did she have to go off like that for, with the baby? Talk about stupid!”

  “You drank yourself silly last night and she took a ride this morning. We all handle stress differently, Chase. She’s a good rider. It wouldn’t have been risky except for this fire.”

  He was desperate for someone or something to blame. “But I told her the desert was dry as a bone! Why didn’t it rain yesterday, Leigh? Where is the damn rain?”

  “You’ll get her back, Chase.”

  Chase’s throat felt as if he’d swallowed road tar. “I have to. I couldn’t live if she...” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Leigh shot him a look. “Does she know that?”

  “No.” He stared sightlessly down the road. “Because I didn’t know. Until now.”

  Leigh took a curve fast enough to throw him against the door. “Then make this fire count for something,” she said.

  Moments later they arrived at the corrals and Chase scanned the busy area. There were lots of people, lots of horses. No Amanda. He clenched his teeth. He knew what he had to do.

  As he got out of the truck, Chloe jumped from the back and ran up to him. “Hey,” he called after Leigh as she headed for the hitching post. “What’s Chloe doing here?”

  Leigh didn’t pause. “Dexter sent her along,” she said over her shoulder. “Didn’t you hear him tell her to come with us?”

  In three long strides he’d caught up with her. “No, and I think she’ll only be in the way.”

  “You have to understand what this is like for Dexter. His range is burning and he can’t do anything but sit and wait for the news. He did the only thing he could. He sent Chloe.” Leigh glanced at him. “I’d advise you to take her with you when you ride up into the canyon.”

  He stared at her. “You won’t try to stop me from going?”

  “No. If Amanda’s smart, she’s waiting up by the pond. A helicopter can’t land there. But if somebody goes up on Mikey, they can bring her down. We got Mikey from the forest service and he’s old, but he’s fire-trained. Pussywillow isn’t, but she likes Chloe. Chloe may be able to settle her down. It’s worth a shot.”

  “Thanks, Leigh. I thought I’d get an argument because of my back.”

  She smiled gently. “I know you have to go. Remember the deep breathing to keep your back relaxed. Take two blankets from the bunkhouse and soak them in the horse trough before you leave.” Her brown eyes glowed with encouragement. “You’ll make it.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Chase held on to Leigh’s confidence like a talisman as he started along the trail at a brisk trot, the wet blankets tied to the back of his saddle dripping water down Mikey’s flanks. His shirt and jeans were already starting to dry, and the blankets would dry out quickly, so he had to get there before that happened. He loped the horse when he could, always aware of Chloe racing by his side. Fortunately, she was in good shape. He carried extra canteens of water, and he’d douse her with them when they reached the fire line.

  With the wind blowing away from him, he didn’t smell it until he was close to the billowing brown smoke, but he could hear it crackling, popping and hissing as water stored inside the saguaros and barrels began to boil. Mikey twitched his ears and danced nervously, but he kept going.

  Then Chase saw the fire ahead of him on the trail, the flames licking through the sage and creosote, leaving glowing twigs as it passed. The heat rolled toward him, but the fire moved away, carried by the wind upward toward the canyon. Toward Amanda and Bart. He had to outrun it.

  Mik
ey nickered and tossed his head when the flames came into view. And he’s the fire-trained horse, Chase thought, dismounting and calling Chloe over to douse her with water. He gave Chloe a drink from his cupped hands before he poured the contents of the canteen over her black-and-white fur. “Stay close, now,” he said, mounting up and untying one of the blankets to wrap around his shoulders.

  He poured another canteen over Mikey, concentrating on the animal’s mane and tail. Then he pulled the still-damp blanket around his shoulders. The smell of wet wool, wet horse and wet dog mingled with the sharp bite of charred desert as he started picking his way around the ragged edges of the fire, working his way to the head of it. Adrenaline pumped through him, sharpening his senses and delaying fear. He had to get through and he had to come back with Amanda and Bart. He had no choice.

  Mikey pulled at the bit and shied whenever a small creature bounded past them in panicked retreat. A slithering rattlesnake momentarily distracted Chloe, who stopped to growl and raise her hackles. But the snake slipped out of sight before Chloe could get very excited. None of the creatures seemed to care much about a dog and a man on a horse. Survival hung in the balance as they raced from the flames.

  At last Chase made it back to the main trail, just yards from the entrance to the canyon. He was ahead of the blaze now, and smoke billowed around him, making him cough and choke. Through watering eyes he tried to gauge the distance the fire had to travel before it blocked the canyon entrance. As he saw how quickly the escape route could be closed, even adrenaline couldn’t prevent the cold sweat of fear.

  Whipping off the blanket and holding it under one arm, he concentrated all his energies on getting Mikey up the trail as quickly as possible. Canyon walls that had seemed so sheltering now closed in like a prison. Except for the crackling behind him, the air was hushed. No birds sang, no insects buzzed–they’d already evacuated the area.

  He rose above the level of the smoke, took a deep lungful of clean air and glanced at Chloe scrambling up the trail ahead of him. “Find Amanda!” he called, and Chloe’s answering bark was a reassuring sound in the stillness. She bounded up the trail, slipping on loose shale but always regaining her balance and hurtling on. Soon she was out of sight.

  * * *

  AMANDA WONDERED if she’d imagined the bark as she sat on a rock next to the pond and cuddled Bartholomew. She’d tried not to convey her fear, but he’d picked it up and was wailing pitifully. Pussywillow, tied securely to a cottonwood, snorted and pawed the ground. Every once in a while she shuddered, rattling the metal fittings on her saddle and bridle.

  Dread and blame vied for dominance in Amanda’s churning stomach. She’d been so sure she could handle this ride, so sure it wouldn’t jeopardize the safety of her baby. She’d made this trip to Arizona for his safety! And now she’d stranded him in a canyon with a brushfire licking at the canyon mouth. She would have made it out if she could have controlled her mount better, but riding with a cradleboard on her back wasn’t the same as riding alone, and Pussywillow had spooked at the sight of the fire.

  Amanda’s only concern after that was staying on as the gray mare had spun in her tracks and bolted back up the trail. Being thrown on this morning ride hadn’t occurred to her. But it should have. She was a stupid woman, an irresponsible mother, she thought miserably. Once she’d realized that Pussywillow wouldn’t carry them out, Amanda had decided to wait by the pond. If the fire came up that far, the pond was the safest place to be. She’d wade out in it if necessary. She prayed it wouldn’t become necessary.

  The bark came again, closer this time, and she stood, her heart beating with hope. Someone was coming! “I’m here!” she called, her voice cracking on the words.

  A moment later, a bedraggled Chloe bounded up the path and skidded to a stop in front of her. Tears sprang to Amanda’s eyes as she stooped down toward the dog. “Chloe!” A lump lodged in her throat. “Did you...did you bring someone with you, girl?” Chase. Oh, God, let Chase be with you. Please don’t have come up this canyon on your own.

  Chloe licked her hand and nuzzled at Bartholomew, who had stopped crying and was staring at the dog. Then he reached both pudgy hands out, and Chloe licked those, too. Bartholomew made a little gurgling noise and waved his arms.

  Tears streamed from Amanda’s eyes and landed on Chloe’s matted coat. “You’ve brought someone, haven’t you,” she whispered, refusing to believe otherwise. “I hope so, because we’re in bad straits here. I’m very glad to see you, but I’d be even happier to see Chase. Is he with you?”

  Chloe whined and wagged her tail.

  “Let’s go watch for him.” Amanda straightened, took a calming breath and walked toward the trail. “Chase!” she called. A hot wind blew up through the canyon and seemed to carry her shout behind her.

  “Amanda!” came a reply from below her, down the trail. “Stay there, babe!”

  Half crying, half laughing, she hugged Bartholomew to her. “I will!” she called in a choked voice. “Your daddy’s coming,” she murmured to the baby as she rocked him back and forth. “Your daddy’s coming to save us!” She stood on tiptoe, straining to see the winding trail obscured by rocky outcroppings and scrub oak. At last she made him out, moving along the trail, the most wonderful man in the world. “I see you!” she called, waving. Her words echoed against the canyon walls.

  “Are you okay?” came the echoing response.

  “Yes!”

  “Is Bart okay?”

  She didn’t miss the order in which he’d asked. “Yes! Is the fire bad?”

  “We’ll make it,” he called after a moment.

  We’ll make it. The echo bounded back and forth, surrounding her, suffusing her with hope and energy. He’d said the same thing when he’d carried her through waist-high snowdrifts to the truck of his cab. Fate had sent her this warm and caring man to love and protect her from harm, and all she’d tried to do was drive him away. Yet here he was again, determined to bring her to safety.

  Warm emotions coursed through her, emotions begging to be released as she watched him climb steadily toward her. Soon he was close enough to glimpse his unshaven face beneath the battered old brown hat. His clothes looked as if he’d slept in them. She’d never seen anyone so handsome in her life.

  “I love you,” she called, her voice echoing down the canyon toward him.

  His head snapped up in surprise. “You what?”

  “I love you!” she shouted, making the canyon walls ring.

  “Well, I love you, too, you headstrong woman!” He sounded a little angry, a little tense, but he’d said it. He’d said it!

  She laughed.

  After a moment, his laughter joined hers, rippling through the trees, bouncing off the granite walls. He was still laughing when he dismounted beside her and pulled her into his arms. “Of all the stupid times for you to say that.”

  “I know.” She looked up into his shining eyes.

  “You realize we’ll have to get married.”

  “If we get out of this canyon alive, that is.”

  “Amanda, just shut up and agree to marry me. Let me worry about getting us out of here.”

  “I’ll marry you, but what about–”

  He kissed her swiftly. “That’s all the time we have for that. We have to douse us all in water and get going.”

  “Yes, but we haven’t settled–”

  “We will. Come on. You’re going in the pond with me, and so is little Bart. And so is Chloe. Get everything wet.”

  “Even your hat? You love this hat.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “I guess that gives you an idea of how much I love you, now, doesn’t it?” he asked softly. “Get in the water.”

  Amanda followed his directions and they all started down the trail dripping wet, with Chase carrying Bartholomew on his back and leading the skittish Pussywillow.

  “We’ll leave her if we have to,” he said over his shoulder. “We’ll try to have you ride her out, but if she won’t go, e
ven with Chloe’s help, I’m taking you on behind me and sending her back up the canyon.”

  “Chase, I don’t want to leave—”

  “You will, if I have to strap you on behind me like a gunnysack. Is that understood?”

  She should have been outraged that he’d order her around like that. She wasn’t. With every word out of his mouth since he’d appeared on the trail, he’d emphasized that she was the most important person in the world to him. She’d never been that before, with anyone except the little baby riding on Chase’s back. It felt wonderful. She still had no idea how they’d work out the details of living together. Giving up her career wasn’t an option. We’ll make it, he’d said. She had to believe they would.

  Pussywillow began to tremble as the smoke reached them. Chloe stayed where the gray mare could see her, and Pussywillow kept putting one foot in front of the other. Amanda wrapped herself in the wet blanket as Chase had instructed. As she pulled it over her mouth and nose, Chase adjusted his blanket around Bartholomew.

  “There’s not much space, but we’re going through,” he shouted back to her over the roar and snap of the fire.

  Pussywillow whinnied and tried to rear. Chase pulled down hard on her reins. “Come on, Pussywillow! Carry that woman through this fire! Chloe’s here. Follow Chloe!”

  As if in response, Chloe barked, taking Pussywillow’s attention away from the flames. As Amanda leaned forward and stroked the gray mare’s neck and murmured encouragement, the horse put one shaking leg forward, then another.

  Coughing and gagging, they inched along. It’s like walking through hell, Amanda thought as she pulled the wet wool blanket over her nose and mouth. Her eyes streaming from the smoke, she kept her gaze fastened on Chase’s blanket-shrouded form. Whither thou goest. He had never led her astray.

  At last the smoke began to clear. When they were several yards from the edge of the blaze, Chase swung the blanket from his shoulders and pulled on Pussywillow’s reins to bring Amanda alongside him. “Check on Bart,” he said.

  Amanda took off her own blanket so she could lean over and peer under the hood of the cradleboard. Bartholomew stared back at her, his eyes solemn, looking for all the world like a green-eyed Indian baby. “You okay, sweet-heart?” she murmured, touching his cheek and giving him an encouraging smile.