Книга - High-Stakes Inheritance

High-Stakes Inheritance
Susan Sleeman


Leave Logan Lake now or you will pay!Despite the threatening warning, Mia Blackburn won't let anyone scare her from the rustic resort she inherits from her beloved uncle. But when a fire traps her in a burning barn, she fears that she won't get out alive. Just in time her ex-boyfriend volunteer firefighter Ryan Morgan rescues her from the deadly blaze. He had once broken her heart, yet she still has feelings for him. With Ryan insisting on keeping a close eye on her, Mia feels safer–and closer to Ryan than ever before. Yet the threats haven't stopped, and soon Mia's high-stakes inheritance includes a murder–and Mia could be the next victim.









“I’m sorry about the barn, okay?” the little girl said. “I didn’t do anything bad. I didn’t start the fire. I was just reading in there.”


“I don’t think the fire was your fault, Jessie,” Mia told her. “It must have been an accident. Maybe electrical.”

“Uh-uh. A man started it.”

“What?”

The little girl trembled. “A really big man drove a truck into the barn. He got out and poured something stinky on the hay. Then he threw matches on it. He said, ‘This ought to scare her.’ Then he laughed and left. Do you think he meant me? To scare me?”

He didn’t mean Jessie. He meant Mia. This was what the letter had warned her about. But who was this man?

“Jessie,” Ryan called from the open doors. “Are you sure that’s what you saw?”

“Uncle Ryan.” Jessie’s voice held relief. She charged into his arms.

Mia sat up, and her eyes connected with Ryan’s troubled gaze. He pulled Jessie tighter and stared at Mia with the implication of Jessie’s words stamped on his face.

The fire was no accident.




SUSAN SLEEMAN


grew up in a small Wisconsin town where she spent her summers reading Nancy Drew and developing a love of mystery and suspense books. Today she channels this enthusiasm into hosting the popular Internet Web site TheSuspenseZone.com and writing romantic suspense and mystery novels.

Much to her husband’s chagrin, Susan loves to look at everyday situations and turn them into murder and mayhem scenarios for future novels. If you’ve met Susan, she has probably figured out a plausible way to kill you and get away with it.

Susan currently lives in Florida, but has had the pleasure of living in nine states. Her husband is a church music director and they have two beautiful daughters, a very special son-in-law and an adorable grandson. To learn more about Susan, please visit SusanSleeman.com.




High-Stakes Inheritance

Susan Sleeman





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.

—Proverbs 3:5


For my husband, Mark, who always believes in and encourages me to write, for Emma whose grasp of proper grammar has helped me more times than I can count, and for Erin, whose graphic design skills are priceless.




Acknowledgments


This book couldn’t have been written without the help of others.

Thank you to fellow writers and all-around terrific friends, Sandra Robbins, Janelle Mowery, Elizabeth Ludwig and Marcia Gruver for sharing their writing expertise, thoughtful critiques and wise advice.

To Tina James, editor extraordinaire, thank you for selecting this manuscript and giving me a chance to tell this story. I am thrilled to be working with and learning from you.

For technical details, I give credit to the professionals who shared their time, patiently answering all my questions. Any errors in or liberties taken with the details are solely my doing.

Thank you to Taylor Woods, Program Supervisor/Recruiter for SUWS of the Carolinas, for sharing his expertise in wilderness counseling programs.

To Lieutenant Shaun McNally, Richlandtown Fire Co. #1, who gave of his time to help me understand the complexity of fighting fires, I say a special thanks.

And most importantly, thank You, God, for my faith and for putting seemingly insurmountable challenges in my life to allow me to know without a doubt who is in charge of my life.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LETTER TO READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION




ONE


Pinetree will never be yours. Leave Logan Lake now or you will pay.

Mia Blackburn stared at the cutout magazine letters glued to stark white paper.

Was this some kind of a joke? Did someone really plan to hurt her for honoring her late uncle’s wishes? To meet the terms of his will, she had agreed to live at Pinetree for the next year in order to inherit the resort. Yet nothing about the idyllic Oregon setting and worn cabins would garner this kind of threat.

With trembling hands, she flipped the envelope and searched for clues. The hate mail held a postmark from three days ago right here in the Logan Lake Post Office.

She rubbed a finger over the neat rows of shiny magazine letters. Anger seemed to leap from the page.

Her mouth went dry, and her throat tightened, nearly cutting off her air.

Only one person harbored such bitter feelings for her. Her father. And knowing him, he’d lurk in the shadows to see her reaction to his threat.

The space seemed to darken with her thoughts.

Was he here, in the room watching her? Or would he be outside on Main Street, sitting in his Cadillac, drumming his fingers on the wheel as he did whenever he grew impatient?

The jarring clang of the front door bells ended her thoughts. She snapped her head up to see who entered.

Not her father, but just as bad. Maybe worse.

“Ryan.” Her ex-boyfriend’s name whispered out like a desperate plea for help as he strolled lazily into the space.

His warm expression and greetings spoke to his love of this small town and its people. He’d changed little since she’d last seen him at high school graduation. He was dressed in worn jeans, rugged boots and an army-green T-shirt that confirmed he hadn’t quit working out. Curly russet hair had been cut short emphasizing his skin bronzed from the summer.

As if feeling her gaze, he turned in her direction. Recognition widened his piercing blue eyes. “Mia, is that you?” he called out with genuine fondness as if they’d parted best friends. He headed her way, giving her a quick once-over on the way. When his eyes returned to her face, appreciation radiated from his expression much like it had when they dated in high school.

“I almost didn’t recognize you with the new look.” He reached out to lift a strand of her shoulder-length hair she’d straightened and dyed.

His touch shot a frisson of alarm through her far greater than the letter had. She searched for a reply, but gaped instead. He directed a counseling program that leased cabins at Pinetree in the off-season so she’d expected them to cross paths. However, she didn’t count on freezing in place when she saw him again.

“I remember that look.” His trademark crooked grin lit his face. “Got it every time I messed up.”

This was too much. He was here…in front of her. The guy who’d hurt her like every man in her life except Uncle Wally. And she wasn’t ready with the quick, witty comebacks she’d often visualized in her mind.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” Fine? She wasn’t fine. How was she going to get out of this situation?

She took a step back and focused on the waffle pattern in his T-shirt. This wasn’t any better than peering into his eyes. The material stretched taut across his chest. A chest where she’d rested and received comfort after battles with her father.

“I’m sorry to hear about Wally,” he said, filling the awkward space and bringing her gaze to his face. “I remember as a kid how I’d count down the days until he left Atlanta and came up here for the summer.” A soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “All the kids around here loved his camp. Takes a special person to give so much time and money to help underprivileged kids like he did. I’m gonna miss him.”

“Me, too,” she managed.

Who was this woman taking over her body? Since their tumultuous breakup, she’d often visualized the strong woman she’d become, standing up to Ryan and releasing pent-up anger from the wounds he’d inflicted. Never did she see herself shying away like a terrified mouse.

So what? Even if she pulled herself together, this wasn’t the time or place to get into their botched romance. Small towns had big ears and the last thing she needed was gossip about her served as the entrée on dinner tables tonight. She’d had enough of that in high school when she’d sparked the local gossip by rebelling against her father’s rigid control, skipping school and partying all hours of the night.

Her best option was to cut this short. “If you’ll excuse me, I really need to get out to Pinetree and unpack.”

In search of car keys, she used her hip to shift her leather purse closer as she transferred the threatening letter to the other hand already bulging with envelopes. Shaking fingers fumbled and upset the pile, sending it crashing to the floor.

“Let me help.” He dropped down and reached for the alarming letter.

No. He didn’t need to see the warning.

She lunged toward the page, but his hand whispered softly over hers and snatched up the paper. While he scanned the message, she slid the avalanche of envelopes into a stack.

“What’s this?” His head lifted and deep crevices of concern burrowed into his face. “You can’t seriously be thinking about going out there after receiving such a threat? We have to report this to the police, and you need to stay somewhere safe until they figure out who sent the letter.”

How dare he express concern for her after the trauma he’d caused in her life!

She snatched the page from his hands. “Don’t worry. Someone is just playing a practical joke.”

Ignoring his confused expression, she bolted past him and into the crisp October morning. She didn’t need Ryan worrying about or trying to take care of her. She’d been self-sufficient for years, and she didn’t need a man—especially not this man—telling her what to do. She’d be fine.

“Mia, wait,” he called after her. “You could be in danger.”

Danger, ha! Talking to him was more dangerous than a vague warning. He’d hurt her once. She wasn’t going to give him the chance to do it again.



Ryan watched as Mia charged away. After her reaction, his first instinct was to run in the other direction. Why bring up their past? Why not let things lie as they had for the last ten years?

Because her eyes seared him, that’s why. Not with the guilt he deserved but with a vulnerability that tugged at his need to help a woman in distress. Now she was charging away from him into danger. He couldn’t let that happen.

He rushed after the click-clack of the skyscraper shoes she wore echoing down the street and into the sweet, tantalizing fragrance lingering behind.

Had his tomboy taken to wearing perfume?

She’d definitely given up the ratty jeans and slogan-boasting T-shirts she used to favor. Today, tailored blue jeans and a leather blazer emphasized her long, lanky body. Perfect on the current Mia who’d traded her mass of red curls for a sleek style that gleamed in the brilliant sunlight. Her hands shook as she inserted a key into the door of a sweet, red Mustang, but she still managed to climb into the car in record speed.

A car that would take her straight to Pinetree. She may not want anything to do with him, but he wouldn’t let her race into danger just to spite him. He breathed deep to control rising emotions and stopped next to the car. She ignored him and lowered the convertible roof.

When the top cleared, he planted his hands on the door frame. “I get that you’re still mad at me, Mia, but don’t do something foolish just to get away from me.”

She sat, rigid and unresponsive.

He leaned into her space. “Just give me a minute and then if you still want to go, I’ll back off.”

Her head slowly rose, and a shimmering strand of hair blew into her face. It would take some time for him to get used to her new look. Not that he didn’t like it. Layered hair curved softly around her face, giving her a sophisticated appearance that was all too appealing.

He reached up to tuck the stray strand behind her ear, but she beat him to it and fixed tired eyes on his face.

“You have exactly one minute.” She tapped her jeweled watch with a brightly painted nail.

The anguish in her gaze almost stopped his words. Almost. But he had to keep her safe. “It’s crazy to go to Pinetree, sw—, Mia.” She didn’t seem to notice his near use of sweetheart, or maybe she didn’t remember or even care that he’d always called her that in high school. “You never know what the sender of this letter intends to do.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s from my father. You know how melodramatic he can get. If I leave town during the year, Pinetree defaults to David. So—”

“Wait. David gets Pinetree if you leave?” Ryan’s tone pierced through the air. “It’s got to be worth a bundle for the lakefront location. Seems like David is the logical person to want you to leave.”

“I didn’t say I was certain about my father. David is a possibility, but I doubt it.” She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment as if she was humoring him. “David’s firm handles Pinetree’s finances so I’ve talked to him about the transition a couple of times in the last week. He said even though he was the older sibling, I deserved Pinetree because I was so much closer to Uncle Wally.”

“How can you be sure he meant what he said? Maybe he was covering up his true feelings.”

“His tone was sincere. Plus, he’s never done anything in the past to hurt me, but Dad…” She released another sigh. “He’s a different story. He always thought David was more deserving of everything, so why not this?” Her words were strong, but her voice trembled at the mention of her father and brother.

Ryan wanted to stroke her hair in comfort as he used to do after one of her father’s many rampages, but he had no right. He’d seen to that.

He fisted his hands and searched for the words that would keep her away from Pinetree. But what could he say to make her see the danger she could be in?

Perhaps he had to paint a dire picture. “You may be right about the letter coming from your dad, but are you willing to risk your life on it?”

She recoiled as if he’d slapped her. “Your minute is up.”

She fired up the car, and he reluctantly stepped back. He didn’t know why she’d reacted so strongly but he did know he’d failed her again. Was he destined to fail her at every turn? He shook his head and watched her back out of the space.

At least this time he had God to turn to. He never disappointed anyone.

Ryan focused on the impressive stand of Douglas firs in the distance.

Lord, please keep Mia safe. And if it is your will, let her see my sincere desire to apologize for how I hurt her and help her to forgive me for what I did.

At the screech of tires, his head snapped back, and he watched the car shoot down the street. Despite the ache her resentment left behind, the familiar sight brought a brief smile. Mia might dress all prissy and girly now, but she remembered how to drive like a guy.

Oh, yeah, she’d always been a little spitfire. Rebelling against her father. Getting into trouble left and right. Calming down some the year they were together. Taking up again when they split up to show everyone she didn’t need him.

And she didn’t need him. Not now, anyway. He’d hurt her by how he’d handled the breakup, that was for sure, and he wanted to fix it. Now more than ever. Seeing her dredged up the horrible day they’d parted, and he needed to explain why he had to end things as he had. To seek her forgiveness so he could put this to rest.

Instincts and the desire to do the right thing with Mia told him to jump in his truck and follow her to Pinetree, but the threatening message urged him to go see Russ, his brother and chief of police. He could talk with Mia later, but not if the person behind the letter made good on his threat and harmed her in the process.



Leave Logan Lake now or you will pay…

The barn, dry from a typical rainless summer, flared in oranges and reds as if a meteor had streaked from the sky and plunged into the building.

Had he done this? Had he really made good on the threat?

Dense smoke clung to Pinetree’s sign and surrounding treetops like cotton candy on a stick. The air was laden with fumes, not the sort of pleasant scents drifting from a campfire, but serious gusts of blackness settling into the open car and irritating her breathing.

Heart beating erratically, Mia remembered the advice of the 911 operator she’d just called. She should move to a safe location and wait for the fire department to arrive. But what if Uncle Wally still kept horses in the barn? If they were trapped she couldn’t sit here and listen to them cry out. She had to try to rescue them. She kicked off her heels and scrambled from the car.

Listening for cries of distress, she ran the length of the barn and circled the backside. Embers shot into the air. Explosions—bullet-like pings—struck the walls. The heat and caustic air seared her lungs. Howling screams from the consuming fire eased and the heat receded a bit, allowing her to inch closer to the acrid smoke seeping through cracks in the walls.

What was that? A whimper. Quiet. Muffled. Her imagination?

She stopped and leaned closer to a window, panting from exertion and the thickened air.

There it was again. A terrified mewl. A kitten or maybe a small child.

With a large rock, she shattered the window. Blistering heat whooshed out sending her lurching back. She ripped off her jacket and held it in front of her face.

“Is someone there?” she called, and swiped thick sweat from her forehead.

“Help!” The voice was tiny and high, fragile like a porcelain doll.

Who in the world was in there?

Jacket over her fingers, Mia cleared the largest shards of glass and plunged her head through the opening. Her eyes instantly watered, her nose stung.

“Where are you?” she barked through drying lips, and squinted against the bitter smoke.

A petite tear-stained face peeked from a cave of hay bales. Mia guessed the innocent child to be under ten and terrified.

“Don’t be afraid.” Ignoring the abrasive air and drawing in labored breaths, Mia lowered her jacket and offered a comforting smile as she scanned the space.

This end of the barn was quickly filling with smoke. She glanced to the left where a pickup truck had succumbed to searing flames. If anyone was in the truck there was no hope, but the child was another story. She’d coax the girl to the window, and avoid a terrible tragedy.

“Come here, sweetie.” Mia curled her index finger. “Everything’s gonna be all right.”

The girl blinked in rapid succession then wailed like the fire siren Mia wished she’d hear screaming up the drive. Sobbing increasing, the child darted back into her hiding spot.

“No! No! Don’t do that,” Mia cried as fear coursed through her body. She would have to go in and carry the girl to the window.

She planted her hands on the frame and slithered over the windowsill, shards of glass ripping into her stomach. Pain stabbed her side but she inched forward and pushed aside hay bales. The child burrowed deeper into the haven like a baby animal threatened by a predator.

Mia leaned in and forced a calm tone to her voice. “Hi, my name’s Mia. What’s yours?”

“J-J-Jessie Morgan.” Her voice was raspy.

Mia startled at the mention of the Morgan name. Was this child related to Ryan?

Jessie coughed hard enough to launch an entire country from her throat.

Not a time to think about Ryan, Mia needed to get Jessie out of there fast. “If you’ll let me, I’ll carry you to the window.”

Jessie nodded and flung her arms around Mia’s neck. The pungent smell of smoke clung to her soft blond hair, and her little body trembled. Mia draped her jacket over their heads and turned to the window. The roof over the truck collapsed sending a blazing support beam into the path between the fort and their escape. Sparks shot toward the rafters. The flaming wood ignited dry hay.

Jessie’s mouth opened in a scream, but only a deep wracking cough surged out. She clutched Mia tighter. Mia frantically looked for a way out. The window was no longer an option, and the back door sported huge chains. Panic surged. Her hands shook.

Where could they go?

She scanned the only wall not engulfed in flames. There! In the door. Uncle Wally installed a pet door when he got Rufus. The opening wasn’t big enough for her, but Jessie could easily fit through.

Mia jumped from the bales and rushed to the back door. Lungs seared from smoke and exertion reduced her oxygen levels, and her eyesight wavered. She dug deep for strength and ripped off the pet door’s pliable flap. “Okay, Jessie. Climb through.”

Jessie planted her feet and crossed her arms.

“Sweetie, please.” An instinctive coo rose to Mia’s lips. “I’d come with you but I can’t fit through the opening. Once you get outside, you can go to the lodge to wait for help. I called the fire department and they’ll be here soon.” Though frightened that the all-volunteer crew might not arrive in a timely manner, Mia smiled to ease Jessie’s concern.

“My Uncle Ryan’s a fireman.” A tentative smile crept across her lips, and her stance relaxed.

Mia ignored the knifelike pain Ryan’s name rekindled in her stomach and forced calm into her voice. “Good. He’s probably on his way here to help us.”

She gave Jessie a quick hug then helped her climb to safety.

Turning sideways, Mia wedged her body into the opening. Through cracked lips, she gulped outside air. Although tainted, it was less dense—easier to breathe.

Jessie stood beside the door as if concrete encased her feet.

“Jessie,” Mia tugged on the girl’s ankle, “go to the porch and wait until your uncle comes for you.”

She nodded, but didn’t move.

“Go, now!” Mia shouted, though it pained her to yell at this physically and emotionally exhausted child.

Jessie snapped from her daze. “I’ll bring Uncle Ryan to help when he gets here.”

Mia nodded her approval and watched until the plodding little feet moved out of sight. The last thing Mia needed was for Ryan to come to her rescue and be indebted to him. She’d have to try harder to get herself out of this mess.

She pulled her head back inside and looked around. Thirty feet to the wall of flames. Thirty feet of hay and dry timber waiting for fire to consume and destroy.

She searched again for another way out. Sizzling flames obliterated the path to the window and the front door. A miracle or the doggie door were her only ways out.

Please, I can’t handle this right now. Coming back here is all I can manage. This is too much.

Why was she calling out to God? He’d never helped before. No—she was on her own again the way God seemed to like it. Well, she wouldn’t just lie down and die.

Drawing her legs up, she crammed her upper body back through the opening. The frame tore at the gash on her side. She bit her lip to control the pain as she squirmed and twisted.

Right, left, up, down, she pushed. Nothing.

“Face it, Mia, you’re stuck.” She relaxed to conserve her energy for another try and the irony of her situation struck her as funny. She laughed in tiny giggles that foretold a meltdown.

She’d summoned up all her courage to return to Logan Lake and face the people who’d hurt her the most, only to die in a fire.




TWO


Ryan’s two-way pager continued to emit details of the fire from the holder on his hip. No need to listen. He had all the information he needed. He tuned out the chatter and focused on Jessie’s terrified eyes begging him to stay.

“I have to help Mia,” he said, giving the sweet eight-year-old a comforting smile. He pulled her close for a brief hug. “Dupree will stay with you until I get back.”

He hated to leave this little squirt with the EMT, but he had no choice. The rest of his crew hadn’t arrived, and Mia might die before they did. He gave Jessie one last lingering look then rushed toward the barn.

Surging flames consumed half the building cracking and spitting out glowing embers. Life-sucking flames.

Man. This was bad. Really bad. Hopefully he wasn’t too late. Not like that horrible day three years ago.

No. Don’t think about that now. Today you’re on time. You will save her life.

Clumsy in his boots and turnouts, he charged at the radiating heat. He lowered his face shield and dodged raining debris like an Olympic hurdler.

Thankfully, Russ hadn’t been in the office, or Ryan would’ve been sitting there when his pager went off. The drive would have taken fifteen minutes. No one would be here to rescue Mia from the flames steadily licking forward in search of fresh fuel. He’d have another tragedy on his hands. He had to hurry.

He careened around the corner.

Whoa! There she was. Mia. His Mia. Crumpled and protruding from a pet door. But she was breathing. Alive. He should be able to pry her free before the flames reached her, but smoke inhalation could still claim her life.

His steps faltered. Uncertainty settled over him like the thick smoke billowing from the barn. This was too close for comfort.

God, don’t let this end as it did with Cara.

Ryan felt God’s strength surrounding him and urging him forward.

“Are you all right?” he called to Mia.

She craned her neck up at him, and her eyes fluttered open. Large green emeralds glistened likely from smoke-induced tears. “Did you find Jessie? Is she okay?”

Yeah, this was his Mia all right. Always concerned for others in distress. “Jess is fine. She’s with the EMTs.”

“Good, I wanted to—” A harsh cough tore away her words. The spasm intensified, racking her body.

This wasn’t good. With the way he ended things between them, a stubborn Mia would rather die in the fire than let him come to her rescue. She couldn’t know his identity.

He pulled his gaze away and studied the door. He’d use his pry bar to splinter the wood above her head and drag her to safety. At least he hoped his pry bar was tool enough to do the job. There was no one else to help and the blaze flared around them.

“Hold on, sweetheart.” Years of unspoken affection flowed unbidden through his tone. “I’m gonna get you out of there.”



Sweetheart? Was this guy kidding? She was trapped in a fire, struggling to breathe, and he patronized her with a chauvinist comment? She hated when men talked down to women.

A spark of recognition shot through her. Wait! Maybe it was Ryan. He used to call her sweetheart.

Nah. After the way they broke up, he wouldn’t dare use that endearment in her presence. Besides, Ryan would have identified himself.

“Keep your head down.” His bold tone spoke to his confidence and helped ease her concerns.

She fixed her eyes on his heavy black boots as rippling shocks traveled down the wood. Waves of pain reverberated into her injured side. She bit her lip. Held it fast between clamped teeth. One last tremor. Her body lurched forward, plunged toward the dirt. The metal tool thunked on the ground, and her freefall stopped.

“Got you,” he said, clutching her under the arms. “Think you can stand?”

“My legs are numb.”

“Then I’ll have to carry you.” He didn’t wait for her agreement but in one swift motion, pulled her free then slipped his hands under her legs.

Sirens screamed in the background as he gently settled her against his broad chest. His jacket reeked of burnt wood and scratched roughly against her skin.

Didn’t matter. Not a bit. She was out of that door. Snuggled warm against his chest. He drew her even closer. Umm, nice. She was safe. It had been so long since she’d felt safe like this. Not since she and Ryan were together.

What was with her? Back in town for a few hours and all she could think about was the man who’d sent her running away in pain. Not a good idea to go there. She concentrated on breathing the improving air into aching lungs.

The wall he’d freed her from groaned and shuttered as if heaving a last breath. He picked up speed and crossed the grass with sure footing until they arrived at a dented white pickup.

Squatting, he settled her against a rusted wheel well. “There you go. Not too comfortable, but it will have to do for now.”

“Thank you. If you hadn’t come along, I—” Her voice broke, and she couldn’t speak. She changed her focus to the screaming red truck bouncing down the driveway, followed by several personal vehicles.

He squeezed her shoulder, and she turned back.

“You doin’ all right?” He flipped up his visor and fixed penetrating blue eyes on her. It was Ryan. Her Ryan.

No, he hadn’t been her Ryan for years. This was the man who hurt her and now she owed him her life.

“I know you’re upset with me, Mia, but we have to put aside our differences and talk about the letter. The fire changes everything. You have to admit the letter wasn’t just a practical joke.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions.” Conclusions she’d reached, but wouldn’t speak aloud. “The fire could’ve started on its own.”

“Possibly.” He crooked his thumb at the barn. “Won’t take long until we know for sure. Until then, I want you to stay away from Pinetree.”

She sighed and leaned her head against the truck. She was so tired. Tired of carrying around the baggage of their breakup and now she’d do just about anything to make the heartache go away.

Even if it meant letting him help her through this… But she couldn’t trust him. Any man for that matter. They only disappointed her with their need to control and then bailed on her when she didn’t let them take charge.

She had to keep up the wall, or he’d hurt her again. “I really don’t want to talk about this with you.”

Laying a gentle hand on her cheek, he turned her to face him. “You’re letting your anger at me cloud the issue, and you’re acting reckless.”

She let his hand linger like a caress. The tender warmth felt right. Like old times, before the breakup. When she thought they’d be together forever. When she believed in the pure love of a man. When she could afford to take chances.

She shook his hand off. “My safety is none of your concern.”

“Given the way I treated you I can understand how you could think that, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He lifted his helmet and ran a hand over sweaty hair. “We should call Russ and tell him about the threat.”

“Russ?”

“He’s the police chief now. He can help.”

“I don’t want anyone to know about this. I’ll handle it my way.”

“But this is too—”

“I said no! I don’t want everyone in town gossiping about me on my first day back. If you care about me like you said, you’ll keep this to yourself.” She locked her eyes on his. “Promise me you won’t tell him. Or anyone. You owe me that much.”

“Fine.” He let out a frustrated breath. “I’ll go along with you, but you should reconsider and tell him yourself.”

“She okay, Morgan?” A firefighter with Chief lettered on his helmet hustled toward them, breaking the mood.

Ryan stood but kept his gaze glued on hers. “I sure hope so.” His double meaning didn’t escape her, but she forced back her feelings.

“You the only one in the barn?” The chief directed his question at her.

“I think so,” Mia said, blocking out Ryan and paying full attention to the chief. “There’s a truck in there, but it was completely engulfed in flames. I don’t know if anyone was in it, but at least Jessie got out safely.”

The chief faced Ryan. “Morgan, you go help Becker investigate that truck. Dupree can take care of Mia for now.”

“I’m on it.” Ryan let his eyes linger long enough to tug Mia’s emotions back to life, then he took off.

As much as she tried, Mia couldn’t keep her focus from Ryan battling his way into the south end of the building. Fear equal to finding Jessie trapped in the blaze crept over her. He was risking his life to check the truck for survivors. Something brave firefighters did every day. But her heart didn’t clutch under her ribs for those firefighters.

What was up with that anyway? Did she have residual feelings for him or had his kind, compassionate eyes caught her off-guard like they always had in the past?

One of the EMTs plopped down next to her, ending Ryan’s captivating pull.

Good. Now she could get her mind off him and on to figuring out how to follow up on the fire. She’d do what she always did, organize and control her steps so she didn’t let feelings get in her way. With Ryan threatening her emotional stability, she was going to need an extra-detailed plan so he didn’t derail her from her quest.



Planting his feet wide apart, Ryan gripped the pulsing hose and trained the spray in front of Becker as he neared the truck. Becker picked his way through the smoldering ruins and flare-ups before giving a thumbs-up indicating the truck was clear. No lives were lost in the fire today.

A wave of relief washed over Ryan as he turned the hose over to the other fireman and headed for the chief to tell him the news. Today had been a good day.

Being a firefighter in a small town meant if someone perished in a fire, you likely went to school with them, or to church—or served on a committee together. Worst case, you were related or in love with the person, maybe planning to marry.

Like Cara. Except she didn’t die in a fire. A madman ended her life. Much like the lunatic threatening Mia might do.

Ryan halted his steps and fixed his gaze on her. Even beaten down by her ordeal she had the same vibrancy in her personality as he remembered from high school. Sure she’d been unstable in so many ways back then, but her longing to be loved by her uncaring father fueled that behavior. Ryan had hoped his unconditional acceptance of her might have been enough. But it wasn’t. Couldn’t fill the ache left by the loss of her mother and an overbearing father.

Eyes fixed on her, Ryan resumed walking. He’d been wrong. So wrong to end things the way he did. Now he didn’t know how to get her to hear him out. He should just walk away with his guilt firmly planted in his gut. She didn’t deserve to relive the day just to relieve his suffering, but he had no choice.

If he had to make her suffer a little more so she’d listen to his warnings before the lunatic behind the threatening letter and the fire struck again, then that’s what he would do.




THREE


A blustery gust of wind kicked up from the north and slid crisply over Mia. Not that she minded the cooling air after the heat of the fire. Didn’t seem to bother EMT Sally Dupree either as she strapped a blood pressure cuff on Mia’s arm. She relaxed and let her gaze drift to Jessie.

Sally’s partner ministered to the pipsqueak of a girl who didn’t stop asking questions about the procedures. Her tone was lighthearted, and she cracked up when the EMT tickled her, but a haunted glaze dulled the sheen of her eyes.

Mia had no desire to laugh after what she’d just survived, not even if it was forced. As a counselor, she knew kids had the ability to recover faster from trauma than adults. Children could also appear to be fine but suffer tremendous emotional scars. She would make a point of telling Jessie’s parents about signs that indicated Jessie had a residual problem.

“Do you know if anyone notified Jessie’s parents?” Mia asked.

“Jessie’s mother died a year ago, but I’m sure someone called Reid, and he’ll be here soon.” Sally frowned and planted her stethoscope on Mia’s chest. “Deep breaths.”

Feeling a kindred connection from the death of a mother, Mia studied Jessie more intently. Her shoulders drooped in defeat and her gaze skittered about as if fearing an attack from an unknown force.

Today’s trauma coupled with the recent loss of her mother could plummet Jessie into a depression. Hopefully Reid parented Jessie better than Mia’s dad had her when her mother died, or the child could be destined for a rocky adolescence.

Sally pulled her stethoscope free and tsked. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

No. Not the hospital!

Her father would be there.

Mia sat up. “I’d rather not go, unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Trust me. It’s necessary.” Sally’s somber tone left no room for argument. She summoned her partner on a radio then strapped a mask over Mia’s mouth.

She inhaled the cool oxygen and tried to relax even as pain ripped into her side from the transfer to the gurney and trip into the ambulance. She offered a smile at Jessie sitting on a bench seat below a wall of equipment. Jessie’s eyes mirrored Mia’s emotions, and she returned the smile with an uneasy stare.

After the EMTs secured the gurney and stepped to the end of the ambulance, Jessie jumped down and knelt near Mia’s head.

“Don’t tell anyone I was in the barn,” Jessie whispered in Mia’s ear.

Mia lifted her mask. “You weren’t supposed to be in there?”

“No.” Jessie clasped her hands together and stared at them. “Since my mom died, everybody says I shouldn’t be alone so much. But I like to be alone so I can read.”

Mia was thirteen when her own mother died in a car accident, but that first year after the accident, the constant ache never left her heart. Not to mention living the next five years with a father who blamed her for causing the crash that took her mother’s life.

“Mia, will you promise not to tell?” Jessie tugged on Mia’s arm, bringing her back.

Mia wanted to give this poor motherless child anything she asked for, but she couldn’t. “I don’t need to tell anyone, Jessie. They already know you were in the barn, or you wouldn’t be in here with me.”

“I could say I came in to save you.”

Mia’s counseling instincts shot into action. Jessie was hiding something. Her pained expression conveyed there was much more at stake than her father learning she’d been somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.

“What’s this really about?” Mia clasped Jessie’s miniature hands.

She shook them free, and her eyes took on a defiant tightness. “I’m sorry about the barn, okay? I didn’t do anything bad. I didn’t start the fire. I was just reading. Wally used to let me read in the barn whenever I wanted to.”

“I don’t think the fire was your fault. It must have been an accident. Maybe electrical.”

“Uh-uh. A man started it.”

“What?”

Jessie trembled. “A really big man drove a truck into the barn. He got out and poured something stinky on the hay. Then he threw matches on it. He said, ‘This ought to scare her.’ Then he laughed and left.” Her eyes scrunched as she rubbed her hands together. “Do you think he meant me? To scare me?”

He didn’t mean Jessie. He meant Mia. This was what the letter warned her about. But who was this man? Had her father hired him? Or perhaps the letter wasn’t from her father after all?

“Jessie,” Ryan called from the open doors. “Are you sure that’s what you saw?”

“Uncle Ryan.” Jessie’s voice held relief. She hopped up and moved slowly toward the back. “Honest, that’s what I saw. You’re not mad that I was in the barn?” She peered at Ryan until his face broke in a warm smile, and he beckoned her closer with his finger. She charged into his arms.

Mia sat up, and her eyes connected with Ryan’s troubled expression. He pulled Jessie tighter and stared at Mia with the implication of Jessie’s words stamped on his face.

The fire was no accident.



Still dressed in his turnouts, Ryan sat on the bench running the length of the ambulance. Even with his boots firmly planted on the floor, he bounced on the seat from the rhythmic beat of the tires spinning over rough pavement. The space was tight, but Jessie had begged him to ride with her to the hospital. Dupree had succumbed to Jessie’s pleas and she’d moved things around to accommodate the four of them.

Jessie rested on his lap, reclining back with her head crooked in his arm. He stroked her sooty hair. He’d do anything to distract her from the residual terror in her eyes. Her emotional state was tenuous at best.

Then there was Mia.

He raised his head and subtly checked her out. She’d closed her expressive eyes and breathed through the oxygen mask. He let his eyes linger on the uncharacteristically quiet woman. What a brave front she displayed for Jessie. She kept it together, but the creases in her forehead exposed her internal pain.

The EMT said Mia should physically recover after a short course of oxygen. She was lucky. She’d lived when others died. He’d dragged her from a near death. From searing flames.

He let out a shaky breath and raised his head.

Thank you, Lord for sparing Mia’s life.

But was she out of danger?

Had the fire merely been the first of a chain of events that would escalate until she left Pinetree or was killed for staying? How could she refuse to seek Russ’s help, and forbid Ryan from doing so?

Especially after Jessie confirmed the fire was an act of arson.

He had to find a way to get Mia to talk to Russ before the danger he was certain lurked around the corner caught up with her.



Mia felt the warmth of Ryan’s gaze, and she wanted to open her eyes to see what his face might reveal about his thoughts. But she wouldn’t look, couldn’t look, in case she saw the same horrified expression that had consumed his face when Jessie confirmed the fire was set on purpose. If she did, her fear would ratchet up to an unbearable level.

A stranger wanted her gone.

But who and why? The only logical explanation was that her father didn’t want to get his hands dirty so he hired the baldheaded guy to torch the barn.

He was going to extreme lengths to get her to leave Pinetree, but as much as she was afraid of what might happen if she stayed, she wasn’t going home. She owed it to Uncle Wally—the only man who truly loved her—to fulfill his last wishes.

Yes, she would stay in Logan Lake even though staying meant living near the man whose eyes were burrowing into her right now. Not just any man. Ryan. Her one-time protector. The man who made her feel safe again as he carried her securely from the barn. His strength almost let her believe he could make this horrible day go away. That she would be okay.

His phone pealed, and she flashed open her eyes, catching his tender gaze fixed on her. She felt her cheeks flush and a warmth spread through her body.

“It’s the ringtone for work, and I have to take the call.” He smiled wide revealing teeth that hadn’t needed any dental assistance to be perfect. He’d often used this cute little grin when she’d glanced up and caught appreciative looks from him in the past.

As he pulled the phone free, she closed her eyes again. He may have saved her life, but he was still a man and like all men, he’d hurt her once. He’d do the same thing again if she gave him a chance.



As Ryan had expected, caller ID identified Ian Davis, his assistant at Wilderness Ways. Ryan was the director of the outdoor counseling program for wayward teens, and no matter the turmoil in his life, responsibility for the students dictated he answer.

He clicked Talk. “Ian, what’s up?”

“We have a problem.” Ian’s serious tone set Ryan on edge. “Paul just called. His mother slipped into a coma this morning, and he won’t make the first week of the program, if he comes at all.”

Man. This was all Ryan needed. With the drop in funding, he’d already had to cut one staff member, and up the ratio of students to counselor. One less counselor and the kids had a better chance of ending up back in juvie than working through their issues, ultimately dooming this pilot program for juvenile offenders.

Not wanting to increase the anxiety level cutting through the ambulance, Ryan fought to keep the turmoil out of his voice. “How’s Paul holding up?”

“Says he’s okay, but you know, man. He’s hurting.”

“Make sure he knows we’ll pray for him.”

“Already done.” A breathy intake of air and long exhale followed the clipped words. “We have to figure out what to do. There’s no way we can function being down another counselor.”

“You have any ideas?” Ryan asked.

“One, but I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.”

Ryan tucked the phone under his chin and used his free hand to massage a tight muscle in his neck. “Tell me about it. Doesn’t matter if I don’t like it.”

“Okay, but hear me out before you shoot me down.” Ian paused as if he thought Ryan might object.

Ryan would consider anything if it helped the kids. “Go on.”

“The other day when we were talking about that Mia chick taking over Pinetree, you said she was a counselor. I know there’s some sort of history between the two of you, but you could ask her to fill in until Paul gets here.”

Ryan let his free hand fall to the bench with a thud. His stomach sank along with it. He looked at Mia. He was all for making amends for the way he’d botched their breakup, but how could he handle her daily presence at work? Living with the constant reminder of his mistake.

Easy answer—he couldn’t. “I don’t think—”

“I knew you wouldn’t like it,” Ian said. “But you have to admit, it’s a good idea. She has no wilderness counseling experience, but she does work with teens. You can at least think about it, right?”

“What about training? Our program is unique and she hasn’t participated in anything like it.”

“We’ve got enough time before the students get here to bring her up to speed. Even without experience she’d be better for the students than no one.”

Ian was right; Ryan had to think about what was best for the kids. “I’ll give it some thought.”

“Don’t take too long. The kids get here in two days.”

Ryan said goodbye and clicked off. He didn’t need a reminder of the looming deadline and the need to decide quickly.

He stowed his cell, and let his focus return to Mia. Her appearance had changed since high school, but man, she was still a knockout. And that’s what the many lacerations and bruises dotting her body did to him. Sent knockout punches to his gut. She could have died in the barn if he hadn’t arrived when he did. He would never have had a chance to talk to her. Never had a chance to right the wrong he’d inflicted.

He had to make things right with Mia—and the best way to get her to listen to him was to spend time with her. As a bonus, it gave him an excuse to keep her in his sight. To keep her from stepping recklessly into whatever danger loomed ahead.




FOUR


In the miniscule hospital bathroom, Mia moved her portable IV cart to the side and stepped up to the sink. Without a shower, she’d make little progress in fixing her appearance but she couldn’t spend the night without doing something. She’d hoped for a quick in and out in the ER, but due to continued low oxygen levels, the doctor opted to keep her overnight as a precaution.

With stiff fingers, she scrubbed her face. The pore-clogging soot not removed by the nurse’s antiseptic clung to her skin. No matter the amount of scrubbing, the steaming hot cloth wouldn’t wipe away emotional trauma. As if she knew what to wipe away first. She had so many layers.

Did she start with the memory of finding Jessie trapped in the barn and nearly losing her own life? Or the sappy way she’d reacted to Ryan? How about the fact that the fire wasn’t an accident? Or her father’s possible role in this disaster?

She leaned closer to the mirror and gently dabbed around sutured lacerations on her cheek.

Had her father really done this to her? As a teen he’d ignored her, blamed her for suggesting a ride in the country, and then distracting him while driving so he let the car slip off the shoulder and crash into a tree killing her mother on impact.

But was he so cruel that he could hire a man to commit arson in an attempt to scare her away? And if he did, how was she going to prove it? No one in town would entertain the thought that the good doctor Thomas Blackburn moonlighted as a criminal.

“Mia, you in there?” a male voice, deep and vaguely familiar, called from her room. “I need to talk to you.”

She hated anyone to see her in this condition, but his urgent tone moved her to respond. “Be out in a minute.”

She draped the cloth on the sink and finger combed her hair. Yuck. It would take several shampoos to eliminate the stench and caked-in ashes. She replaced the oxygen cannula in her nose and on the way out, freed the plastic tube stuck under the IV cart.

Standing by the door, her visitor wore a khaki police uniform and kneaded his shoulder with narrow fingers. He studied her, taking in every detail as she eased into the room. His presence was intimidating, drawing the air from the room.

Eyes fixed on her, he offered a stiff smile. “Don’t know how we’ll ever repay you for saving our little Jessie.”

His Jessie?

Mia checked his eyes. Oh, yeah. He was a Morgan. Even without the uniform, she’d know this was Ryan’s brother Russ.

The tallest of the Morgan brothers, he was more powerfully built than she’d remembered. Coppery hair had grayed at the temples, but retained a bit of the Morgan curl at the nape. His eyes were clouded, maybe in reaction to nearly losing his niece.

Trauma Mia knew all too well. Fire sizzling all around and no rescue in sight. She suppressed a shiver. “I don’t need any thanks for helping Jessie. I’m just glad I came along when I did.”

“How about we sit?” He gestured at the pair of gray vinyl chairs by the window and issued a full smile, broadening an already wide jaw. The lines circling his eyes and folds along his nose—likely from the stress of a career in law enforcement—fell away, and the teenager she used to know bloomed in front of her.

Not that seeing the teen who tormented her was a good thing. Still, she needed to know what he wanted with her.

Lifting her oxygen lifeline over the bed, she navigated the tank toward the chair and sat.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you around here.” He perched a booted foot on the wooden edge of the other chair. “With the way you shot out of here after high school, I’m surprised you came back. Guess it’s hard to turn down the money you’ll get when you sell Pinetree.”

Did he think she’d react to his cutting tone? Or his assumption that she’d sell Pinetree at the end of the year to capitalize on the valuable lakefront property? Snap judgments were common around here. Just another reason she’d stayed away. Still, she wouldn’t correct them. She knew in her heart she’d returned to Pinetree out of respect for her uncle’s last wishes. That was all that mattered.

“If you’re trying to bait me like you used to, Russ, I’m not biting.”

“I’m here to take your statement about the fire. Nothing more.”

“Sounded more like you were interested in passing judgment on me. Something you were so good at doing in high school.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Mia.” His sharp glare drilled into her eyes. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s in the past.”

“Easy for you to say. You weren’t the one wronged.”

His eyes creased, and he ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Look—I’ll admit I was hard on you back then. I should have been more understanding, what with the loss of your mom and all. But when you and Ryan started dating and his grades took a nosedive, I had to make you see what you were doing to him.”

“And you thought going behind my back and trying to break us up instead of talking to me was the right way to do that?”

He shrugged. “Might’ve used the wrong method, but I had the right motive.”

“As David’s friend I expected more from you. You knew how much losing our mother changed our lives.” She sent him a penetrating stare.

“All I can say in my defense is at the time I thought you were totally out of control. Figured you’d soon be breaking the law.” He sighed. “I couldn’t let you take Ryan down with you.”

Mia could appreciate Russ’s concern for his brother, but he had worried in vain. Ryan pushed her out of his life the day she learned of his unfaithfulness. “As it turns out, that wasn’t a problem, was it?”

Russ cleared his throat. “What say we put all of this behind us and get on with your statement?”

His offer to make amends was out of character for the guy she had known, but he could have changed. He could be one of the good guys now. She nodded, putting aside their past differences in honor of his profession.

He pulled out a notepad and pen. “Okay, so I need you to tell me exactly what happened today.”

She didn’t want to recount the fire. The searing flames. Suffocating smoke. Terrifying emotions. But she had to comply. She launched into the story, skipping the warning at the post office and replaying the rescue of Jessie with concise comments devoid of the emotions still tumbling through her body.

“I’m sure by now you’ve heard Jessie saw a man start the fire.” Mental exhaustion over telling the story made her tone fall off at the end.

“So,” he leaned closer, his eyes filled with interest, “now that you’ve had time to think about the fire, do you have any ideas about who would want to do this?”

Ideas? Like her father was probably behind it? A fact she wasn’t ready to share. “Not really.”

“Not really, or no?”

She wasn’t ready to tell him everything. She shrugged and tried to veil her eyes so he didn’t notice her evasiveness. She’d had years of practice in subterfuge with her father, but that had been so long ago she’d forgotten how to do it.

Russ drew in air through his nose and held it while looking at the ceiling. Letting out the breath, he fixed a stern look on her face. “I get the feeling you’re keeping something from me, Mia. It would be easier on both of us if you’d cooperate.”

She’d cooperate as far as she could and still keep this in the family. When she got out of here, she’d confront her father and put an end to the mess. Then Russ wouldn’t have anything to investigate.

She nodded solemnly as if she were taking his advice. “I’ll spend some time thinking about who might have started the fire and get back to you.” She held his gaze until a knock sounded on the door, and he turned to face it.

Mia eased out a breath of relief and watched as Ryan entered. Still dressed in his firefighting pants, the suspenders hanging limp, he strolled into the space with a confident smile. He let his gaze rove over her then linger on her face, warming her with the concern displayed in his eyes.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he said halfheartedly.

Russ’s foot hit the floor with a thud that echoed through the room, and Mia expected him to object to the interruption.

“Actually, you can help me out here,” he said. “I was just about to share arson statistics with Mia. Specifically, that it’s often committed by a property owner wanting to collect insurance money. With your training as a firefighter you can confirm that.”

“Well, yeah…” Ryan crossed the room, regarding his brother with a skeptical look, “but if you’re intimating Mia torched the barn for insurance money, you’re way off base.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.” Support for Mia was etched on Ryan’s rugged face.

Mia smiled her thanks and turned to Russ to see his reaction. His frozen features said it all. He believed she was involved in setting the fire.

His hand drifted to the top of his gun as if he were thinking he might need reinforcement. “On the surface it doesn’t look like you’d benefit from the fire as the property would be worth more with the barn standing. But…” His eyes darkened and fixed on Mia’s face like a mighty lion eyeing up lunch. “Maybe you can’t wait that long for the cash. By destroying the barn, you’ll get a nice settlement from the insurance company right away.”

Her mouth fell open. “You’re seriously considering me?”

“Got to check out all possibilities.”

“You’re wrong, bro,” Ryan said.

Mia crossed her arms. “This is unbelievable. I’m almost killed in the fire and you suspect me of starting it. Guess you don’t really believe your niece saw that man.”

“Sure I do. You could’ve hired him.”

“Right. I hired a man to burn the place down then got stuck in the barn.”

“Accidents happen. You arranged to have the place torched but didn’t know Jessie would be in there.” He paused dramatically. “You couldn’t let her die so you saved her. Got trapped. Wouldn’t be the first time someone got caught in their own fire.”

“Seriously, Russ, you’re wasting time on me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Mia lurched forward and grasped the wooden arms of the chair. “But you—”

He held up his hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not focusing solely on you.”

“Good, then you’ll find this guy and your case will be solved.”

“Or maybe I’ll find out you had a part in it. Trouble always found you in the past, Mia. Why would this be any different?”

Ryan shot out a hand and seared his brother with a heated look. “That was uncalled for. You should be thinking about how to protect Mia from the arsonist, not blaming her for the fire.”

Russ stared at Ryan so long Mia thought the brothers might come to blows. Their behavior was so reminiscent of high school. Russ insisting Ryan break up with her. Ryan passionately defending her. The pair nearly duking it out before parting angry and hurt.

Without breaking eye contact, Russ slipped his notepad into his pocket, his movements deliberate and slow. “I appreciate your wanting to protect Mia, but you’re overreacting. The fire wasn’t about physically hurting her. If it had been, the arsonist would have made sure she was in the barn before setting the fire.”

Ryan faced Mia. His withering stare made it clear that he wanted her to tell Russ about the threatening letter. She gave a quick shake of her head and hoped Russ didn’t notice the interchange.

If he did, the controlled expression on his face didn’t let on. “I apologize if my earlier comment crossed the line, Mia. I’m simply trying to locate the person behind this no matter who it is. The best thing you can do to clear your name right now is provide me with a copy of the will.” Letting a pointed look pierce Ryan, Russ tromped out of the room.

“Excuse me,” Ryan said and charged after his brother.

Watching him exit in hot pursuit of his brother, a wave of vulnerability crashed over her.

Was someone other than her father behind the fire and her life really in jeopardy? Had she done the right thing in keeping the letter from Russ…or had she left herself unprotected and in the path of a lunatic?



Ryan charged down the hallway, gaining on Russ who rushed away as if he hadn’t done something so unbelievable. Mia was not guilty of arson and Ryan would not let Russ accuse her of it. How could he think Mia had anything to do with the fire?

Near the nurses’ station, Ryan caught up to Russ and spun him around by the shoulder. “You’re crazy, bro, if you think Mia was involved in this. She gains nothing until her year is over.”

“Are you sure about that? Have you seen the will?” He paused and let his words linger in the air. “Maybe there’s a loophole. Maybe she gets the cash now if insurance pays out.”

Money never motivated Mia. She could have changed, but the warning letter pointed to someone else. If only he could tell Russ about the threat, Mia would be cleared. But Ryan promised.

He clenched his fist and let his fingernails bite into the palm to keep from revealing the secret. “Mia had nothing to do with the fire. Nothing.”

Russ raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You gonna make a habit of defending her again?”

“She doesn’t need my defense. She’s done nothing wrong.”

A righteous look radiated from his eyes. “Then it’s not a problem if I investigate her.”

Ryan’s hands itched to throttle him and wipe that pious look off his face, but that wouldn’t help. He wouldn’t give in to the temptation. “Go easy on her, bro. She risked her life to save your niece, who might have died if Mia hadn’t been so brave.”

Russ studied Ryan’s face until he grew uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny and asked, “What?”

“It just seems kind of odd you’re defending her like this when you cheated on her and hurt her more than my questioning ever could.”

“You know I did that for her.”

“Then why do you feel so guilty about it?” Russ locked gazes with Ryan. “And while you’re at it, maybe you should ask if your guilt is keeping you from seeing her involvement in the arson.”

Ryan started to protest, but he was too caught off-guard by the comment to formulate the words.

Russ clapped Ryan on the shoulder. “Don’t worry—I’m not trying to railroad Mia. I’m keeping an open mind. She may well be innocent. If so, you can say I told you so all you want. All I ask is that you think about it before you rush to her defense without any evidence to support your position.” He lifted his hand and saluted. “I’ll catch you later.”

He clomped down the hallway and Ryan watched as questions pummeled his brain. Had he jumped to defend her without any thought? Was he simply protecting her on instinct from their past relationship? Or was she really innocent and in danger from an unknown source?

She had changed so much physically maybe her personality had drastically changed, too. The woman he once knew may not even exist anymore.

There was only one way to find out. Spend time with her. He spun and headed back toward her door. Before going home and cleaning up, he’d convince her to work with Wilderness Ways. That way if Russ was wrong and someone was out to get her, Ryan would be right by her side.




FIVE


The next morning, weariness from a sleepless night oozed from Mia’s bones as Nurse Karen settled the blanket over her legs and then stepped behind a modern cart holding a computer.

“Once I finish this paperwork, you can get dressed and we’ll get you out of here in no time.” Humming quietly as if she loved her job, she input data into Mia’s file.

Mia smiled over the lilting melody. Her mom used to sing this same song when she was happy. Mia closed her eyes and urged her muscles to relax. The notes rushed up the scale and plunged down bringing with them the last good memory Mia had of her mother.

Mia could almost feel the warm breeze skipping off the lake and into their cabin at Pinetree. Their family had just arrived for a much-needed vacation and her mom’s face lit with happiness for the first time in months. Her parents didn’t think she and David knew they fought over their father’s neglect of the family for his job. But their vacation was supposed to fix all of that.

They had no sooner unpacked when her father pulled out his laptop and sat at the worn kitchen table to work on a medical book he was writing. Mia’s joy evaporated along with her mother’s. She issued an ultimatum. If Mia’s father spent his days at Pinetree working on the book, the marriage was over.

Mia couldn’t stand by and do nothing. She begged her father to take them for a ride in the country. He agreed and she was thrilled. She’d kept their parents together. Until she pointed out a deer coming from the woods and her father took his eyes off the road long enough for the car to slip onto the steep shoulder. He tried to wrestle the car back onto the pavement, but lost control and they slammed into a monster pine tree killing her mother instantly.

Mia sighed. Life would have been so much easier if God had let her mother live. If her father never blamed her for the accident. She’d blamed herself until counseling helped her see the futility of misguided guilt. Now she was able to enjoy thoughts of her mother.

Not so with Ryan and her father. She’d tried to let go of the drama with them as easily. But she’d dated too many men who reminded her of her controlling father to let go of the pain and bitterness.

A knock sounded on the door and Karen’s humming ended.

Mia clung to the memories of her mom but they drifted away with the music. Expecting Ryan, who’d offered to give her a ride home today, she opened her eyes and looked at the door.

Not Ryan. Her father.

His alert eyes searched the space and took in her appearance before creasing in a critical assessment and focusing on the computer.

She drew in a quick breath and held it.

“Doctor,” Karen said, a hint of awe settling into her tone.

“I’ll just have a quick peek at Mia’s records.” The raspy, yet firm voice instantly transported Mia back ten years.

Head bent low over the cart, the sound of his fingers clicking on the keyboard pinged through the room. Mia stared at a large void on the back of his head replacing thick black hair that had once thrived like shag carpeting. He didn’t seem so intimidating anymore. More fragile and old. She eased out her breath. She could do this…

As if he sensed her perusal, he looked up. “Everything looks good, Mia,” he said waving a hand over the computer. “You should make a full recovery.”

This was so like him to put up the facade of being a concerned father in front of others. She couldn’t stomach the two-faced behavior in high school and had rebelled against it, but after yesterday’s stress, she didn’t have the strength to fight him. Besides, if she was going to get him to confess his part in the fire, she’d better not embarrass him in front of Karen.

Mia smiled tightly. “I appreciate your taking the time to stop in. Do you have a few more minutes to talk?”

Pure astonishment took hold of his face. She hadn’t responded positively to him in years. He didn’t know what to make of this sudden about-face, and she didn’t know what to say. An awkward silence descended on the room.

Karen cleared her throat. “If you’re finished with the computer, Doctor, I’ll get out of here so the two of you can catch up.”

“Yes, of course,” he said with a kind smile reserved for those who met his exacting standards.

As Karen departed, Mia grappled with what to do. She wanted to say something to keep him looking open and receptive, but when the nurse exited the room his door of kindness snapped shut, and his hard shell returned.

He picked a piece of dark lint off his white coat and flicked it into the air. “What is it you want, Mia?”

She felt like he’d just flicked her away as easily as the fuzz. Tears dampened her eyes but like so many times in the past, she willed them back and located her armor. She slipped inside the steel plating and drew a deep breath before firing her accusation.

“I received an interesting letter in the mail warning me to keep away from Pinetree or I would pay.” She fixed her gaze on his steely gray eyes. “I immediately recognized it as something you would do, but I never thought you’d want me out of here so badly you’d hire someone to burn down the barn.”

He studied her, his eyes blank and unreadable. After a few painful moments, right when she was ready to squirm out from under his microscopic intensity, he heaved a sigh.

“As usual, you’ve made it very clear what you think of me. I won’t respond to your accusation.” He spun and exited the room.

What? He left. Just like that. He couldn’t even be bothered to answer her. But why was she surprised? This was exactly what she’d expected from him. But not what she’d hoped he’d do.

Her lips quivered. Tears trickled out.

Even after years of his rejection, she’d hoped he’d deny the charges and declare he’d never hurt the daughter he loved and welcome her back. After all, that’s what Uncle Wally had wanted when he structured his will to bring her back here for a year before inheriting Pinetree…and his plan had given her hope of the reconciliation. Her father didn’t appear to have the same goal in mind.

No, with Uncle Wally dead, she was all alone and the finality of her loss swept through her like never before.



Ryan walked down the hospital hallway. He’d been surprised yesterday when Mia agreed to let him pick her up this morning and drive her home. Not that he should read anything into it. She likely agreed because Logan Lake had no public transportation and he was her only way out of this place. On the bright side, she was willing to take under consideration his request to fill in as a counselor at Wilderness Ways.

With the students arriving tomorrow, he hoped for a firm commitment from her. The last thing she needed with everything going on in her life was pressure from him, but he wasn’t opposed to encouraging her to accept. Turning her focus on to the students could be just the thing to help take her mind off her problems.

He rounded the corner and spotted Mia’s father exiting her room. Lips puckered, he slammed his hands into the pockets of his white coat and rushed down the hall. He didn’t appear so much angry as dejected.

This was a good sign. Conversations between Mia and her father had always escalated into fights so boisterous it was a wonder they didn’t end in violence. If the same thing had happened today, he’d have been fuming and storming away.

At the open door, the sound of crying surprised him and pulled him into the room. Mia lay back on the raised bed, her moist eyes as vulnerable as little Jessie’s had been when he’d left her with the EMTs. The large gashes on Mia’s cheek taped closed with butterfly bandages kicked him in the gut again. He’d thought she’d look better this morning but her appearance was as delicate as fine china.

What could have happened to upset her this much, yet not affect her father the same way?

Ryan hated to bring it up, but if she needed to talk about the conversation, he would be more than willing to listen. “Mia, are you all right?”

Her eyes opened wider letting a wave of misery wash out. “Thanks for coming to get me, but I’m not ready to leave,” she said between sobs. “The nurse still has to do the paperwork.”

He’d witnessed hundreds of fights with her dad after she’d rebelled against his wishes, but the pain reflected in her eyes topped all of them. He couldn’t stand by without offering comfort.

He crossed the room and sat next her. Careful not to tangle the IV and oxygen tubes, he drew her into his arms. She didn’t resist but snuggled close, and her crying intensified.

“Shh.” He rocked her and breathed in her scent, a combination of tart hospital soap and caustic smoke with a slight hint of her sweet perfume. Her body shook from her sobs and she clutched the back of his shirt as his shoulder grew damp from her tears.

If he could get a hold of her father right now, the man would pay. Something Ryan always wanted to do in high school, but was too young to act on. Her father had broken her heart so many times and Ryan picked up the pieces, restored her confidence and tried to prove she was loveable, but he’d never gotten the satisfaction of seeing her father suffer for hurting her.

And if Ryan lived the faith he professed, he’d forgive the man for the way he treated his daughter, and should also be thinking about how to help repair the rift between them.

She trembled and snuffled, winding down in her crying.

He hated that she was hurting, but he had to admit holding her again felt right. He would be happy to stay like this. Minus her crying, of course.

No. Not a good idea. He’d never make that kind of commitment to a woman again. Especially one who might be stepping into danger without any regard for her life.

He gently released her, located tissues on the table by the bed and offered them. “What did he say this time?”

“My father? You saw him?” Watery eyes fixed on his as she ripped out a tissue. Ryan nodded.

“I told him about the letter and that I believed he was behind the fire.” She hiccupped and dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes. “He didn’t deny it.”

Not as bad as Ryan had imagined from her over-the-top reaction. “He didn’t admit to doing anything. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“No! Even if he didn’t do it,” she sniffed, “he clearly wants nothing to do with me.”

So this is what set her off. Not her father’s guilt, but his rejection. This wasn’t a topic they could resolve in a short conversation, and Ryan didn’t think he could offer anything new after all these years. He could sidestep the rejection and focus on the fire. Then maybe she’d be open to telling Russ about the letter and look for other suspects.

Ryan shifted on the edge of the bed. “Sounds to me like you really don’t believe your father’s behind all of this.”

She blew her nose and set the tissue on her lap. “I don’t know what to think anymore. I can’t imagine he’d hire an arsonist, but he’s the most logical candidate.”

She was right. There was no other obvious suspect, but Ryan had to plant doubt in her mind to get her moving forward. “Think about it, Mia. Would your father really commit a criminal act and risk going to jail just to get you to leave town?”

She pulled out another tissue. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but who else would’ve done it? David is the only one who would benefit if I left.”

“In my opinion he’s a less likely suspect than your father. He’s as close to a model citizen as they come. Plus he seems to be doing well financially.”

“I agree and that’s why the more I think about him the more I rule him out.” She sighed and twisted the tissue in her fingers. “It has to be my father.”

Her agonizing expression left Ryan feeling helpless. He had no idea how to figure out the identity of the arsonist but he could offer his support.

He clasped her hand. “No matter who did this, I’m here to help you through it.”

Her eyes lingered on his face. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me since I’ve gotten here.” She released a shuddering breath. “I’m thankful for everything you’ve done. Saving me at the barn and all. Really, I am. Not that you could tell. All I’ve done is repay you with harsh words.”

“I hurt you. I deserve your anger.”

She worked her lower lip and went silent for so long he thought she might have changed her mind about engaging in this conversation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Now?”

She nodded. “I can’t leave until the nurse discharges me. We might as well make good use of the time.”

This was what he wanted, but now that it was time to talk, he didn’t have a clue how to start. He’d always hoped she’d forgive him, but she might not. What if she didn’t? What happened then?

“Ryan?” she said softly, and offered a nod of encouragement.

“Right, high school.” He shifted on the bed. “So if we hadn’t broken up that night what do you think would’ve happened between us?”

Her eyes widened.

He’d caught her by surprise. “This isn’t a test or anything to see how you felt. Just a question.”

“Well, you’d already started college. My grades weren’t good enough to get into Reed, so I would have gone to a community college or gotten a job so we could live close to each other.”

He’d thought along the same lines. “And then…when I graduated, we’d get married and live happily ever after here in Logan Lake, right?”

“Something like that.”

“And that’s why I arranged for you to find me kissing Sheila and made you think I had something going on with her.” He clamped his hand on the back of his neck and looked down to hide his embarrassment over the dumb decision he was about to explain. “You were so unhappy under your father’s control. It was getting worse by the day. You wanted out of here more than anything except being with me.” He looked up to gauge her reaction.

She met his gaze with clear green eyes that encouraged him to continue.

“I couldn’t let you stay here and live under your father’s thumb. You had to go out in the world and find out who you were without your father harping at you for everything. If you knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, you would have settled here.” He sighed heavily. “But if I made you think I didn’t want to be with you anymore you’d run to Wally in Atlanta, which is exactly what you did.”

He prayed for understanding. “And look at you. My gosh, just look at you. You’re not working in some dead-end job with three kids and a loathing for your husband because he kept you here. You came back here strong and independent. Able to stand up to your father. A professional counselor respected by your peers.”

She sat unmoving, her eyes fixed on his face. Tears began to slide down her cheeks. He didn’t know how to respond. Were these tears of forgiveness or tears of loss? He reached out a thumb and swiped them away.

When she didn’t pull away, a nervous laugh escaped his throat. “And now this is the part where you forgive me for hurting you because you realize I did what I did because I loved you.”

She sniffed and ever so slightly nodded. “You had a good reason, and for that I can forgive you. But that doesn’t erase the hurt. It’ll take time for me to forget how it felt.”

He reached out to take her in his arms but let his hands fall. He wanted to hold her until her tears stopped again, but he couldn’t.

He wouldn’t risk reconnecting as they had in high school. Couldn’t risk caring for her again. She’d nearly died and this nightmare wasn’t over. She was still in danger. If the man who set fire to the barn wanted to hurt her, Ryan wasn’t sure he could stop him. Loss of Cara had proven his limitations.




SIX


Wishing she’d known about the condition of Ryan’s truck before she accepted a ride, Mia sat back as they rumbled down the winding country road to the rattling of soda cans on the floor. Flies had succumbed to the quicksand of dust and grime on the dashboard, and cracks populated the seat with tufts of stuffing eager to escape. Redressed in her fire-ravaged clothes, Mia matched the interior, but not Ryan.

Today he wore an emerald shirt highlighting his dark coloring, and coordinating perfectly with heavy brown corduroys and rough hiking boots. He had a day’s or more worth of stubble on his lean face, and as he climbed into the truck, a hesitant, little-boy-lost look had crossed his face and made it hard to keep her eyes off him.

Or was it the fact that he’d had a sound explanation for hurting her, and she’d finally forgiven him? But would she ever let go of the pain of his betrayal and learn to trust a man again? Was Ryan what he seemed or did he really have his own agenda—wanting to take over her life and control her?

Last night as she tried to fall asleep in the noisy hospital, her thoughts kept drifting back to the ambulance ride and his loving expression as he answered Jessie’s questions and calmed her fears, much as he’d comforted her after her father’s many rampages. Then she had to go and dream about Ryan.

Not just him, but them as a couple again, married and with a family. The whole American dream wrapped up in a neat little package. Two children, living in the big lodge at Pinetree, and of course a dog frolicking around the place. Foolish, but she liked it.

She glanced at his strong profile. How could she spend day after day working alongside him and not wonder what their life would have been like if they’d never broken up?

He slowed the truck at Pinetree’s driveway and glanced her way. “You thinking about the fire again?”

She wasn’t about to admit the truth so she lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

He seemed to buy her vague response as an affirmation and clicked on the blinker. “I don’t have to tell you people who survive an experience like a fire often start to ponder the meaning of life and why they were spared. I’m not sure how you stand on God these days, but He can help you through this if you turn to Him.”

She swiveled toward Ryan so fast her hair slapped her face. “You’ve embraced religion?”

His lips tipped in the briefest of smiles. “I turned my life over to God a few years ago if that’s what you mean.”

She peered past him and out the window. Here she was fantasizing over getting back together with him, and he clearly wasn’t the same person she’d known in high school. Back then, he’d have scoffed at anything religious. Now he was spouting the stuff.

“Mia.” He laid a calloused hand on her arm. “Would you mind if I tell you how my faith helped me get through some tough times?”

She shook her head. “That’s the last thing I need right now. God keeps taking away the people I love most, and I haven’t the stomach to think about Him.”

“That’s not how it is, Mi—”

“I said no to this sermon, all right?” She sent a stony gaze his way.

He responded with a flush of hurt, but she kept quiet.

Religion or God or whatever Ryan wanted to call things did not help her. She’d tried that. Until her mom died and her father ignored her. Then God ceased to exist.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryan blow out a deep breath. His knuckles tightened on the wheel, turning white then slowly returning to healthy pink.

Something inside her begged to comfort him, to take back her comment, to reach out and touch his arm to end the silence. To return the carefree guy from before this conversation, but she held herself in check and gazed out the side window. No good would come from revisiting her stance on God.





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