Obsessed by Wildfire

by Autumn Jordon

  "Why not?"

  "Save it for his parents. They'll have to face all of you, after Wayne is put away."

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  Chapter Fourteen

  Ten miles outside of Wayback the tarmac sizzled under the sun and drove heat waves up into the dry, late afternoon air. Sitting in Warner's air-conditioned vehicle while he concentrated on the road, Issy was a jumble of emotions. She still couldn't believe the sweet kid who'd helped her father last summer at the garage could be responsible for Ivy's tragedy. What had gone through Wayne's mind? He could've killed Derrick and Ivy.

  From the corner of her eye, Isobel studied Warner, letting her eyes wander over the perfect fit of his white dress shirt and black slacks. The lock of hair which drove her bananas curled under his ear. She pulled her gaze forward and stared out the window.

  Wayne's actions weren't the only thing taking a leather-hook needle to her nerves. Her feelings for Warner had her on edge. Somehow she'd fallen for the man. And thanks to Chicky, Papa and Mama knew about Warner, and assumed with good reason they'd tangled under the sheets. Sex meant marriage to them and now they wanted to meet him.

  She brought her pinky to her mouth, bit her nail's tip and just as quickly stopped. She then clasped her hands together in her lap. A few days ago she'd woken and known where she was going in life. She'd put a down payment on a promising stallion, she started fixing up her ranch, and she was striving toward her first National Championship. Now, she wasn't sure of her priorities. Warner came into the picture and he was a piece of the puzzle she wasn't quite sure fit.

  She did want to see Warner again, but she also wanted her dreams. Could she have both?

  Her view of her parents’ relationship had been turned upside down and inside out. Mama controlled Papa.

  Apprehension formed along her spine. She shifted in her seat and planted her sandals firmly on the floor. Would Warner want to control her? She didn't have to let him. The only way to find out was to find out. Simple.

  Isobel's heart warmed. He stole glimpses of her tan legs. “Warner."

  He met her gaze. The devil who'd been caught with his pitchfork poking in the wrong place wouldn't look as guilty.

  While giving him a knowing glare beneath a raised brow, Isobel's womb clenched.

  Drawing in a slow, deep breath, Issy shifted on her seat, trapping her left ankle under her right leg and faced him. The action caused her denim skirt to push up an inch. Warner noticed.

  Isobel tugged her skirt down. “Are you going right to the jail?"

  "As soon as I drop you off at your place."

  "You don't have to waste time. I can get Papa to run me out to the farm."

  "I don't mind. It's only a couple miles, taking the shortcut you showed me."

  "Chicky showed up at the garage around noon today. He told my parents about you. About us.” The words spilled out of her mouth on a gush of throaty breath.

  "What do you mean us?"

  "He told them you were at the house this morning. There's a good chance they know about last night—"

  Isobel was forced back onto the cushion. Warner had lifted his foot from the accelerator and their forward motion died.

  "What exactly did he tell your Papa?"

  Warner's concern confused her for a moment before she remembered their conversation last night. “Don't worry. Papa's not going to come after you."

  He steered the truck to the side of the road, cut the engine and turned to her. “I'm not concerned about me. I'm thinking about you. Are you okay?"

  "Sure. Why won't I be?"

  "Well, from what I've gathered, your father seems to be very controlling. He didn't threaten you in any way did he?” He stroked her arm lightly as if she needed comfort.

  "Papa? No. Why would he?” She pulled away from his touch and folded her arms across her chest and studied him closer. “Where are you getting these ideas?"

  "From you. You told me how he tried to control you. I thought maybe he still—"

  "What are you thinking?"

  "I thought maybe he still abused you."

  "Abuse?” Isobel blinked. “My Papa never laid a hand on me. Why would you think he did?"

  "You said he wouldn't let boys come into your home. And if he caught them there, he whipped them with their own hides. I thought maybe you got caught and he whaled—"

  Isobel couldn't help the belly laugh which escaped her.

  Warner, apparently surprised by her reaction, sat back against the door. His lips formed a thin line as his strong jaw locked.

  "I'm sorry.” Isobel splayed her hand across her chest. “I misled you. It's a long story."

  "I have time."

  She dropped her gaze to her lap where she picked the polish from a thumb nail. She never wore nail polish, but she had for Warner. Baring her soul wasn't going to be easy but then a lot of things in life weren't. “I had a revelation today. My mother was a remarkable barrel racer. She could've been the greatest of grand champions. Instead, one day she upped and quit, without reason.

  "For years I thought my Papa made her give up her dream. I mean, while Mama and I worked side by side around the house she'd tell me stories of the horses she trained over the years and what she'd learned about barrel racing from one of her mother's friends, who also was a great rider. Mama's eyes would sparkle as she told me those stories.

  "Meanwhile, Papa went out to the barn, tended to the horses and went off to the garage to do the job he loved. He whistled all the time. Mama, she just smiled. I vowed I wouldn't ever let any man stop me from achieving my dreams."

  "But that wasn't the way it was between your parents?"

  Isobel nodded. “I thought Mama longed to ride in rodeos. She didn't. Her heart was in making a home for us."

  "The stories she told you, were actually her way of training you to race, just like baking a cake."

  "Yes."

  "What made you realize all this?"

  "This morning, when Chicky and Papa were discussing us.” She pointed her fingers back and forth between them. “Mama came in with Papa's lunch. She brings him lunch everyday. I always thought he ordered her around too, but apparently she packs his lunch so he won't go down to Blue Bonnet and load up on fries and pie.

  "When Papa drilled Chicky for information about you, Mama put her foot down and ended the conversation. She told them to leave me alone, ordered Papa to wash up and eat, and Chicky to paint my barn. They listened like trained dogs, heeling at her feet."

  Her gaze drifted off, beyond Warner, as she pictured moments over the years. “Why didn't I see all this before?"

  On her lap, Warner covered her hands with his warm palms. “You're a strong woman, Issy. You want to be the greatest champion barrel racer of all time. It's your dream, right?"

  She smiled.

  "You imposed your dream on your mother, sort of like some parents do to their children. The important thing is you now realize your father never controlled your mother the way you thought. He didn't stop her from going after her dreams. He allowed her to do exactly what pleased her."

  He cupped her chin. His fingertips brushed her jaw line sending delicious charges through her system, right to her heart.

  "Your parents have a very healthy relationship.” His warm hand curled around the back of her neck. He leaned across the console and his lips brushed hers. Passion tingled down her spine. “Issy, can you let go of your fears and see me again?"

  Warner was right. Her fears had held her back from having a fulfilling relationship. “Only if you'll help me."

  His full lips smiled against hers. “You got it. As long as we go on a picnic run tonight."

  She arched toward him, wrapped her arms around his neck. His soft hair feathered through her fingers as she deepened their kiss. She was lucky Chicky had painted her barn yellow.

  Warner's rough whiskers tickled her jaw line as he splayed a line of kisses to her earlobe and back. With his forehead against hers, breathlessly he said, �
��After I see the sheriff, why don't I grab us dinner and bring it back to your house?"

  She smiled. “Sounds like a plan."

  Grinning, he moved to his side of the cab, grabbed the gear shift and looked out the windshield. “Damn. What in the hell happened?"

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  Chapter Fifteen

  Warner's skin prickled watching the dark columns of smoke reaching toward the sky. They were still a good eight miles from Wayback's town limits. If he had to guess, he'd say the fire raged west of town. Issy's place sat west of town. With the dry conditions and the winds it wouldn't take long for a blaze to become a disaster. “We got us a wild fire."

  "Oh, my God."

  In the rear mirror, something caught his eye. Flashing lights. Companies from other towns had already been called. The blaze had to be big for the Wayback firefighters to call in help from this distance.

  He reached under his seat, grabbed his emergency light and slammed the strobe onto the roof of his truck just as the fire trucks blazed by them. Within ten minutes, Warner parked his truck out of the way of the emergency vehicles. About a hundred yards out, the soil wore a black scar, its waves of dry grass eaten by the fire.

  Warner's blood rushed hot through his veins. He couldn't wait to get in the thick the battle. Climbing from the truck, he reached behind the seat and snatched the helmet and turnout coat he kept there, just in case. “I want you to take my truck and get out of here, Issy."

  "What about you? Where are you going?"

  Holding the steering wheel, she exposed more of her leg while sliding across the console. The memory of her tan thighs would carry him through the battle. “I've got to help these guys."

  Her soft fingers trapped him by the arm. The blaze reflected in her wide pupils. “I can wait."

  She wanted to stay by his side. He couldn't let her. “No. This blaze is out of control. It's going to take hours to put it to rest. Get out of here. It could turn in a heartbeat. I don't want you near here. Understand?"

  Her gaze lifted over his shoulder for a brief second before returning to meet his. “Go home. And watch the east."

  "We're miles away from my place. You don't think—"

  "Wildfires can burn a five mile path in less than an hour. If you see flames from your porch, load up Lizzy and get out of there."

  "What about your truck?"

  "It's insured. Just get out. Promise me."

  "I promise."

  Warner slid his hand around her neck and pulled her close. Under his lips, he felt Issy tremble. He pulled away and closed the door. “Go."

  Warner headed toward the fire captain's vehicle. Pride and fear for the Yankee bubbled inside Isobel as she watched him slipping into his fire-resident jacket while on the run.

  Three additional fire trucks pulled along the highway. Isobel turned the pickup around and drove away, leaving Warner in danger. She didn't want to. She wanted to stay and help somehow, but she promised him she'd leave. Besides, if Warner was right, Lizzy could be in danger.

  Again and again, Isobel checked the black smoke drifting, coating the already gray sky as she raced home. Several times she had to brake hard. Jack rabbits and wide-eyed deer crossed her path, apparently seeking safety.

  Once in her driveway, she jumped out of the pickup and stared east. The wildfire burned miles away. Lizzy, however, pranced around the corral's edge. Did the horse know something she didn't?

  Lizzy joined her at the gate. She patted the horse's neck, trying to sooth her, but the mare side-stepped and pawed at the ground. Lizzy's nervousness transferred to her. Lizzy knew something terrible was headed this way.

  Isobel decided to do as Warner suggested and get the hell out of there. Just in case the wind picked up.

  "I'll be right back,” she said to the horse and ran into the house to gather a few things. While she slipped out of her skirt and sandals and into her jeans and boots, she glanced out the second story window. Quickly, she stuffed clothing and her grandmother's jewelry into a bag and grabbed the lock box file which contained her important papers and checkbook. Then hoping her home would be all right, she turned off the propane gas and took one last look around before she locked the door and raced toward the barn.

  By the time she'd hitched up the horse trailer, the pungent smoke drifted their way. Isobel stared at the ridge. The tiniest of flames licked the dried sagebrush. The wildfire had traveled faster than Warner anticipated. She had to get out of there and now.

  Suddenly, the wind howled through the valley. The flames on the ridge bellowed and sparks took flight, landing hundreds of feet closer to them.

  Lizzy whinnied and kicked up puffs of dust with her pounding hoofs. With her tail posted and her nose flaring, the mare circled the corral.

  Opening the gate, Issy grabbed a lead rope and as the Quarter Horse trotted by her she snagged Lizzy's halter. Isobel tried to calm the horse, but Lizzy was having none of it. Lizzy wanted out, and gone.

  Isobel held on tight to the lead rope. There was no way she'd get the spooked mare loaded into the trailer without covering Lizzy's head. She tied off the horse and rushed into the tack room where she grabbed a towel. Returning to the mare, she tied the cloth around the horse's head. She had to remain calm otherwise Lizzy would sense her fear. She willed the tremor in her hands to stop. In a soothing tone Isobel murmured, “You have to trust me, old girl. We're going to be fine. We need to get out of here."

  Thankfully, without further incident, she led Lizzy up the plank and inside the trailer. In a matter of three minutes, they pulled out of the driveway and headed northwest. Feeling relief, her mind shifted back to Warner. She hoped he was all right.

  A half mile down the road, the smoldering remnants of a pole and its transformer fell flat-faced across the road. Isobel's heart hammered against her breast bone watching the wires stretch and rebound in front and to their side. So as to not hurt Lizzy, she applied even pressure to the brakes and the truck rolled to a stop. How in the hell could she turn the truck around with the trailer attached to it? There wasn't enough room.

  Lizzy whinnied.

  Isobel looked at her side mirror and her heart sunk to her lap. Dangling electric wires skipped and hissed, blocking their escape.

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  Chapter Sixteen

  A cyclone came at him. One moment the wind gusted toward the north, the next second it ripped west, then south and then back in the direction where it had already taken its toll. But God, for some reason, had other plans and sent the flames their way, to the northwest where they were trying to cut the inferno off. “Hell's coming at you. Get out of there,” Warner yelled through his mask at the men digging and raking the land next to him.

  Sparks fell from the gray sky and onto the scattering six men. The ground didn't have a drop of moisture in it to help retard the flames. Hungrily the blaze devoured the dried grass. The brittle shrubs ignited as if a match had been put to a kerosene soaked wick. Unless the helicopters got here soon, they would lose the battle.

  The hot air behind him broiled his back. His breath fogged the plastic shield of the mask and he couldn't see, but he kept moving. Only after the air around him cooled, did he stop. On top of the ridge, he turned and stared at the havoc blackening the land.

  Clouds of smoke curled away from them. The flames licked feverishly at the bits and pieces of grass and twigs they'd forgotten.

  Overhead, the air vibrated. Whack. Whack.

  Two helicopters appeared through the haze and dove toward the ground. They crisscrossed and emptied their bladders. The fire sizzled its protest.

  Warner removed his mask, pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped his face. He drew a breath and coughed out the bitter taste. Finally. Now they might make some headway with this wildfire.

  He turned. His brows lifted in surprise. He stood on the ridge north of Issy's farm. Relief gushed through him staring down at the yellow barn and farm house. If the rescue copters had
n't shown up when they had, the blaze could've easily burned a path to Issy's front door within the next twenty minutes.

  From the corner of his eye, a sparkle pulled his attention north. Golden flashes from downed wires danced on the tarmac. Just below them, behind a horse trailer and pickup, a horse wildly pranced in a circle.

  Lizzy.

  And Issy.

  Issy's arm jerked as she tried her best to control the frightened animal.

  They were trapped. One side of the highway was lined by guard rails, protecting a drainage ditch. Sparks from the wires had started the grass edging the highway on other side a blaze. A downed pole blocked their escape to the south and the live wires to the north prevented them from heading in that direction. The situation spurred the horse to rear and kick. The helicopters over head didn't help.

  He had to help Issy before Lizzy either trampled her or tossed her onto the electrical wires.

  Warner raced toward Issy. He called to the other men who were watching the swooping helicopters and pointed in Issy's direction.

  His heart expanded and lay heavy in his chest. He couldn't let anything happened to her. He'd waited a lifetime to meet a woman who made him feel complete. He had plans and they included Issy.

  "Hold her. We'll get this side under control,” he called while digging his shovel into the dry soil and tossing the dirt on top of the flames. Within seconds, the men joined him. Within minutes, the flames were smothered. Within moments, he picked his way across the smoking terrain.

  "Let Lizzy go,” one of the men behind him called to Issy. “She'll only head to the barn."

  Warner saw the fear in Issy's dark irises. “Do it. Before she drags you."

  Issy let the lead drop and the horse didn't hesitate to bolt and jump across the scorched grass. With both her head and tail held high, Lizzy galloped back to the barn.

  Warner jumped across the hot spots, grabbed Issy by the waist and pulled her to him. He rubbed her arm and shoulder. “Are you okay?"

  "I was so scared. I thought for sure I wouldn't be able to hold her until help came. Thank you. Thank you all,” she said glancing at the men.