least, it normally did.
For the first time, Maggie wrinkled her nose at the familiar odors. Something seemed off about the smell—the hay emitted a sickly sweet fume that nearly gagged her. And the horse sweat had a musky tang that turned her stomach. But it was the scent of apples that sent her running out of the barn in search of fresh air; something about the combination of food and manure curdled her earlier cup of coffee and caused bile to rise in her throat.
She took a deep breath and was assaulted this time by the smell of fresh-cut grass. But at least it was better than the olfactory overload of the barn. Shaking her head, Maggie headed for her car. Its pearlescent white paint sparkled subtly in the sun, a contrast to the dull red of her previous ride. It still felt a little strange to walk out of a building and not see her old sedan waiting for her, but she had to admit, the new car smell was pretty nice.
A movement by the trunk caught her eye and she glanced over in time to see a bird take flight from her trunk, squawking in protest. That in itself was not unusual, but something still seemed strange...
Maggie slowed her pace and squinted at the trunk, trying to put her finger on what she was seeing. Finally, it hit her—the air above her car was shimmering, bending and moving in the liquid, languid dance of heat. She normally saw it in the summer, when the superheated asphalt seemed to melt the air above the road. But why was it happening now?
As she watched, a thin tendril of smoke curled into the air, the wisp so fine she would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking. Realization and shock slammed into her, followed quickly by disbelief. Her car was on fire! But how was that possible?
She glanced around the yard, searching wildly for something she could use to douse the flames. There was a water trough just inside the barn and she ran for it, dropping her computer bag in the dirt.
“Help!” Her mind raced as she searched for something, anything she could use to carry water back to her car. She needed the fire department, but they would take too long to get here. Maybe she could dump enough water on her trunk to put the fire out before it spread? But why was it on fire in the first place? Cars didn’t spontaneously ignite...
“Help!” she yelled again. Where was everyone?
“Maggie?” She heard her name, barely audible over the rush of blood in her ears. There was a bucket sitting a few feet away, full of grain. She dumped it out and scooped up water from the trough.
“My car,” she yelled, not bothering to look back. “Call the fire department!”
She ran back outside, water sloshing over the sides of the bucket and soaking her clothes. Smoke was pouring out of her trunk in earnest now, the stench of it filling the air and burning her nose. There was a shout behind her but before she could respond, the world exploded in a ball of heat and light.
Thorne reached the barn door just in time to see Maggie’s car explode.
He caught his breath and threw up a hand to shield his face as a ball of fire shot into the air. A loud boom shook the building, startling the horses inside. A chorus of panicked whinnies rang out, but Thorne couldn’t spare a moment for them.
He had to find Maggie.
The stubborn woman hadn’t listened to him when he’d called out to her. And whose fault is that? he thought bitterly. He hadn’t exactly been treating her well lately.
His heart in his throat, he scanned the dooryard for Maggie, straining to see through the smoke that now obscured most of the area. He considered calling 911, but by the time the ambulance arrived Maggie might be dead. There was no time to waste. He stepped into the yard and immediately started coughing as the thick, black fumes filled his lungs. He pulled a bandana from his back pocket and clamped it over his nose and mouth, but it didn’t help much. He had to find Maggie and get them both out of here, the sooner the better.
“Maggie!” He shouted her name, hoping she would hear him. But his stomach dropped as time ticked by without a response.
Was she dead? Just the thought made him want to vomit, but he had to consider the possibility. She’d been standing awfully close to the car when it exploded. He could still see her, arms wrapped around the bucket of water as she charged forward to save her vehicle. If only he’d been able to stop her!
He scanned the ground, his growing panic making it difficult for him to see. Oh, God, please let her still be alive!
“Thorne!” He heard his name from the direction of the barn but didn’t stop searching. “Thorne, come back! It’s too dangerous!”
“Help me find Maggie!” She was still here, he knew it. And he wasn’t leaving without her, no matter how much smoke filled the air. The car was a raging inferno now, and the sparse patches of grass near the dirt of the drive were turning black from the heat. It was only a matter of time before a spark caught one of the nearby buildings on fire...
The cries of the horses grew louder, and Thorne realized the other hands were busy moving them out of the barn. Good—that was one less thing to worry about.
He staggered through the smoke, tears streaming down his cheeks. An odd shape on the ground caught his eye, and he turned, blinking hard and squinting to focus.
It was a shoe.
“Maggie.” He tried to shout her name, but the smoke and his fear caused his throat to lock up. He ran over to find her lying on her back, her eyes closed and her face too pale for his liking.
For a split second, he froze, fear locking his muscles into place. She was so still... He’d never forgive himself if she was dead. If he hadn’t treated her so badly after their night together, she would have listened to him, would have waited for him to catch up instead of running headlong toward danger by herself. This was all his fault...
His hand shook a little as he reached out and gently placed his fingers on her throat. Her pulse beat sure and strong, and the breath shuddered out of his lungs in a gust of relief. She was still alive!
Moving quickly, he ran his hands along her body, feeling for any damp spots that would indicate blood from an injury. When he came up dry, he hooked his hands under her arms and dragged her across the yard. They made it to the relative coolness of the barn just as a fire truck turned off the main road and came screaming up the drive to the dooryard.
The firemen wasted no time attacking the blaze. Under other circumstances, Thorne would have been right in the middle of the response, helping the other ranch hands with the horses and telling the firefighters what he knew about the situation. But he wasn’t about to leave Maggie’s side.
Someone knelt next to him but Thorne didn’t bother to look over. His eyes were glued to Maggie’s face, searching for a sign of awareness, a flicker or a twitch that would indicate she was regaining consciousness.
“What happened?” Mac spoke calmly amid the chaos, and the tension in Thorne’s chest eased at the sound of his father’s voice.
“Her car exploded.” Thorne still couldn’t believe it. Cars didn’t just explode in real life—that was the stuff of movies. Something was definitely off here, but he couldn’t worry about it right now.
“It
