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.”
