at the truck stop I didn’t have a plan.”
“Why did he do this all at once? What was the hurry?”
“They’ve been selling off pieces of the ranch for years. My dad wasn’t surprised. I think he saw it coming.” Lucas plowed his fingers through dark straight hair. “He said last Christmas that if they sold any more land there wouldn’t be enough pasture to switch cattle into.”
“I don’t think the people in town were aware of it shrinking.” Ranch folks might not talk, but town people did.
“One of the hands told me today that Reid hired a manager out of Fort Worth to come in and close the ranch down while he rushed over to Austin to go to a party. The manager brought in a crew, men who look like hired thugs, not cowhands. He’s selling off the cattle left on the place, and word is the horses are going tomorrow.”
“Do you think Reid’s father knows what he’s doing?”
“I don’t think he cares. Most of the good pastureland is already gone and who will want a big house in the middle of nowhere? But once the land’s gone, it’s gone. If I had the money, I’d be tempted to buy it and show Reid what a ranch like that could be. If profits were poured back into the operation it would really be something, but they’ve been bleeding it dry for years.”
This Lucas, Lauren understood. The planner. The kid who was born on a horse and loved the land. If he ever got the chance, he’d build a ranch just like he built a career in law.
Only ranches like the big ones in Texas were inherited, not bought.
She brushed Lucas’s hand. “You’re losing the place where you grew up.”
“Yeah, but it was never mine. My folks moved into the foreman’s house not long after they married, but it wasn’t theirs. The place where they raised their kids vanished in forty-eight hours.”
Lauren understood but didn’t know how to help. “The memories will be with you, Lucas. The love in that house lives on.”
“Right,” he answered quickly. “But I swear before I ever bring a child into this world, I’ll have a place that’s mine.”
Another hurdle, she thought. Lucas had to have everything right, everything in place before he’d allow himself to think about living his life. There would never be enough time for all his dreams...enough time for her in his life.
A light began to glow from the north, almost like the sun had decided to come up early in a new location.
They turned and watched it for a few heartbeats, then Lucas whispered, “Fire!” as if saying the word too loud would make it real. “It’s on the Bar W. Dad and the cowhands aren’t there to deal with it.”
Lauren stood watching in disbelief. The Bar W, Collins land. She knew little about ranches, but she knew fire in this open country could be deadly.
He grabbed her hand and they started running toward the front of the pickup.
“I’ll call 9-1-1,” she shouted as she climbed in the passenger side of his truck.
Lucas nodded and headed across the open pasture. “Where’s your car?”
“About half a mile back on the road.”
He was there before she could finish her call.
As she climbed out of the truck, Lucas yelled over the incoming storm, “Get out of here as fast as you can. I don’t think it will spread on this wet grass, but you don’t want to be caught in the middle of a grass fire.”
She watched the flames shooting high in the air. “It’s not a grass fire.” It was too big. Grass fires crawl along the ground. This was shooting thirty feet straight up.
He followed her gaze as another flame shot into the black sky a mile to the left of them. “You’re right,” he said. “Something or someone is burning the barn. If it catches grass, it might spread to Kirkland land. I’ll call him.”
A half mile away, another flame shot up.
“Another barn,” Lucas shouted. “This is no accident.”
She reached for her car door, but just before she stepped in she heard him say, “I’ll find you when this is over. It’s time you and I had a talk, Lauren. Until then, stay away from the fires.”
“HELLO, DARLIN’,” SHERIFF Dan Brigman said into his cell phone as he drove toward the Collins ranch. “I know I’m calling early, but I’m headed out to a barn fire and might not get a chance to call before you go to sleep.”
“Anything bad?” Brandi’s voice came through, making him miss her ten times more than he had a minute ago.
“No. You know nothing ever happens around here. How was your flight to Nashville?”
“I started missing you before I got off the plane. I slept part of the way and had this great dream about you.”
Dan smiled. He loved his wife’s sexy low voice. “Tell me about it tomorrow night. I don’t want to be driving and accidently miss a word.” He couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful she’d looked when she left this morning. “I miss you. Wish I could have gone with you this time. I know it’s only a few weeks, but it’ll seem like an eternity here without you.”
“I know. I feel the same, but I’ll be working most of the time. The band is already here. They’ll watch out for me. We’ll start rehearsals tomorrow. I’ll be home before you know it.”
“I’ll be waiting. Better say good-night. I’m almost to the ranch. I can see the barn burning even before I pull off.”
“Night,” she whispered, then added, “Be careful.”
He drove the last mile thinking of his wife and not some fire in a barn on a ranch no one cared about. The owner had been gone for years, and his son ran the place like it was his own ATM. Dan had heard that the foreman, along with a few dozen cowboys, had all been fired yesterday.
Brandi, his wife, was three states away trying to get some sleep. How could he miss a woman so much who’d only been gone a few hours? When this duty was over Dan knew he’d be tempted to go home and call her again. Just to say good-night one more time.
He’d married her late into his forties. They might never make it to dance at their fiftieth anniversary party. He’d just have to love her in double time for the rest of his life to catch up.
ONE BY ONE, Dakota turned on the lights in the beautiful old stucco home on Indigo Lake that her grandparents had built in the twenties. The day had exhausted her. She’d spent most of her time talking to people who didn’t know what they wanted in a house. Window-shoppers were just part of the job; they didn’t seem to realize that she didn’t make money if they didn’t buy.
