One Wild Texas Night
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Sara Orwig
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17,6K
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12
One
Jake Reed’s pickup bounced as he sped across an open field on his Texas ranch. Nearby, cowboys on horseback herded his cattle toward the east side of his ranch while a huge wildfire swept the area to the west. None of the noise of cowboys yelling, frightened cattle on the move and Jake’s and other cowboys’ pickups could drown out the crackle of burning branches, the snap of tree limbs and the occasional crash of a falling tree.
As fire consumed the dry February grass, billowing gray smoke spread overhead, obliterating sunshine. Mesquite vanished in the swift-moving fire. A plane circled above, and Jake glanced at the screen he had set up in his pickup. Hap Green, one of his hands, was flying around overhead with a camera, relaying pictures of the fire to Jake’s screen. The pictures confirmed that his house was safe right now—a huge relief. They had radio communication also, so Jake could ask questions.
As long as the wind held in the west, Jake knew his house wouldn’t be in danger. Even now, as the wind began to shift from the north, his ranch house would remain out of the fire’s path. His house was far to the east, but he knew how fast fires spread and how easily a tiny spark from a burning cedar could blow, land on a roof and ignite a house, so he remained vigilant. He and some of his men had plowed a large area on two sides of his house, as well as around the outbuildings and other homes. They had dug what was, hopefully, too big an area for the fire to jump, but if the wind kept shifting, nothing would be safe.
He saw the barbed wire fence separating his land from that of his feuding neighbor—a Blake. Both families had fought since they had settled in Texas after the Civil War more than a century and a half ago. He felt a jolt of surprise when he glanced across the fence and saw someone kneeling on the ground by an animal.
He turned his pickup to drive closer, and in seconds he saw it was his neighbor Claire Blake. The solitary Blake living in the area, she owned the family ranch now. Even though he saw her at cattle auctions, rodeos, the bank and grocery in Persimmon, Texas, their nearest small town, they hadn’t really spoken in years—except when they had gone to court to fight each other.
He motioned to one of his men to keep going forward, and then he continued to the fence. Her pickup was parked too far away for her to get to it quickly, and she had her back to the fire—unwise with a fast-moving blaze in high wind.
Her grandfather had brought in Texas red cedars as a windbreak. Big mistake in Jake’s view. They turned out to be nuisance trees, gobbling up groundwater, spreading rapidly and defying control, and he fought constantly to keep them off his land. Now the fire was sweeping through them on her ranch, each cedar exploding in flames when mere sparks touched it, the blaze spreading faster than a man could run.
If she didn’t get out in the next few minutes, she wasn’t going to get out alive. Even though the Reeds had a long history of fighting the Blakes, he couldn’t leave her to burn. He remembered that Sunday when he had been driving past her church and he’d seen her laughing with a companion. She’d looked so attractive that if she had been anybody else except a Blake, he would have approached her. She was never with her brothers, Clyde and Les, who had caused a lot of trouble for his dad when they were growing up with mischief that they called harmless pranks. Claire lived alone out on the family ranch, and none of her family ever came to see her. Maybe she couldn’t get along with her brothers any more than most of the other people in the area. Still, she was a Blake, and probably as annoying as the rest of her family. He didn’t speak to her and she didn’t speak to him. Despite all that, he increased his speed, bouncing over the rough ground toward her and the raging fire.
She was kneeling over an animal—a dog, he saw now—with her pickup a hundred yards behind her, too near a stand of cedars and native oaks, too near the fire. The minute he stepped out of his truck, he looked up, turning to face the wind.
The wind was changing directions—no surprise—but it was what he had been praying wouldn’t happen, and it was going to be deadly. More of his land would burn now. He knew from flying over their ranches that if the wind came fully out of the north, her home would be engulfed. And right now, they, as well as the dog, were in the fire’s path. Still bending over the dog, she seemed totally oblivious. He was surprised, because the general consensus in the area was that she seemed to be a good rancher. He yelled, but the fire and wind drowned out his call.
He leaned down, pulling the barbed wire strands wide enough to step between them, avoiding the barbs while going through the fence quickly, then ran toward her.
“Hey!” he yelled again, and when she looked up, she jumped to her feet and stepped back as if he was a threat. Damn. He was risking his life for her, and she’d better not fight him about going with him.
Claire Blake looked up from the birthing dog before her, glanced over her shoulder and was startled to see her neighbor waving his arms and running toward her. Even though he was handsome as the devil, he was from a family that might as well have been related to Satan himself. Whatever he wanted, he’d better leave her alone, which he always had in the past. For a moment, she wondered if this was his dog and she had wandered onto her land to have her pups. No matter. She didn’t have to do one thing Jake Reed said. All she had to do was take care of the dog and the five newborn pups in front of her, because they were in danger from the fire. She turned back to look at the dog spread on a blanket in front of her and the tiny newest pup in her hands as she cleaned the little wrinkled brown Lab puppy, its eyes still tightly closed. Thankfully, for her and the exhausted new mom in front of her, this was the last.
She knew the fire raged behind her and they had to get out. Would Jake help her with the pups? No, she had never counted on anything from him, and she wouldn’t start now. If the situation had been reversed, her brothers wouldn’t have helped him. She had to get the dogs out on her own.
“Queenie, you picked a lousy time to have your babies.” She didn’t know the dog’s real name, so she gave her a temporary one. “We’ve got to get out of here. I wouldn’t blame you, but please don’t bite my neighbor.” She ran her hand over the dog’s head, and Queenie’s tail thumped.
“You’ve got to go,” Jake Reed yelled as he ran toward her.
“Duh,” she mumbled. “I know we need to get out,” she said, still working over the dog and pups.
“The wind’s changing. You and the dogs will burn,” he yelled. As he drew closer, she stood and faced him. Even under the circumstances, the thought crossed her mind when she saw her neighbor that he really was the best-looking guy in the next six counties.
She dragged her eyes from him, and for the first time in a while, she glanced at the fire. Shock chilled her, driving all other thoughts from her mind. The fire had changed direction and was nearly upon them. It seemed just minutes ago she had looked at it and deemed them out of immediate danger. Then she turned to Jake. So, what was he doing here? Coming to save her? She couldn’t believe that. No, the dog must be his. “I didn’t notice how fast the fire is moving. I need to get the dogs into my pickup. If I take—” She gasped as her eyes lit on her vehicle. “Oh no.”
“I’d forget that one,” he remarked, stopping near her as flames engulfed her pickup. “I’ll get mama dog. Grab the pups and let’s go.”
“My pickup...it was fine a moment ago,” she said, not sure what shocked her more—her destroyed truck or the fact that he was offering to get her out of the area.
“Is this your dog?” she asked him.
“Hell, no. Let’s go,” he ordered, picking up the dog. “Grab the pups and get into my truck. Move it,” he snapped. “Your pickup is toast. We’re next. Go, dammit.”
“I had no idea—” She realized she had been too focused on the dogs and had made what could have been a fatal error in ignoring the fire for a few minutes. That sent shivers all over her.
“Put some pups on her so she doesn’t think we’re taking them away from her,” he said. Claire quickly placed three pups on the mother.
“C’mon, move,” he shouted over his shoulder. “We’ve got to get out of here while we can.”
His brisk order cut through her shock, and she grabbed up the remaining pups and rushed after him as he ran for his pickup. She glanced back once, and even in the heat of the raging inferno, sweat running down her face and body, she was chilled.
As he ran ahead of her, his long legs covering the ground easily, she realized she owed her life to him. Her worst enemy. He had rescued her and the dogs from dying in the inferno. How would she ever repay him when she didn’t even like to speak to him and rarely ever had? She had made a terrible error in turning her back on the fire, but she’d made just as big a mistake in getting into a predicament where her rescuer was Jake Reed. A lifelong enemy of her and every member of her family. How was she going to cope with the fact that he had just saved her life? Just as bad—how was she going to cope with the nagging awareness of how appealing and sexy he was?
