Welcome to Harmony (34 page)

When the grounds around the house had five feet of dirt around it, Noah used another tractor to dig a trench and Reagan began filling it with water. The place was starting to look like a fortress surrounded by a tiny moat.

“Should we go check on Uncle Jeremiah?” She could see the line of trees that ran along the boundary of Truman land and Matheson land. He might not care about anything but the orchard, but Reagan loved it all. Every inch. “Do you think he’s all right?”

Noah shook his head. “He’s where he wants to be. I don’t think anything has ever mattered to him besides that orchard. He’s got the cart. If fire takes the trees, he’ll make it back here.”

HANK FELT NOTHING BUT THE DULL ACHE OF NUMBNESS as he worked. He told himself to keep his thoughts on the fire and what to do next and not let any emotions about anything else surface.

His land was burning as he watched. His niece could have died if she’d gone much longer without her medicine. Tyler almost got killed trying to save her, and at some point Trooper Davis would probably return the punch Hank had given him, plus some, even if he didn’t carry through on arresting Hank for assaulting an officer of the law.

Hank couldn’t, wouldn’t think of any of that. He had a fire to fight. He planned to stay on point until he collapsed with exhaustion and they had to carry him off. Maybe then, he could sleep and forget the ugly things Davis had said about Alex. Maybe he could get the hurt in her eyes out of his mind.

As Hank worked, the memories of his best friend came back. He could not remember a time when he hadn’t known Warren McAllen. They must have been in the church nursery together, probably fighting over the same toy. Hank remembered the summers spent riding horses and swimming. And then the college days when they roomed together and fought over almost every girl either of them dated. The hours they’d spent talking about their dreams and the problems at home. Warren had been the only person he’d ever totally trusted. Hank’s father was dead; his mother was always preoccupied with her work. Warren’s parents fought, and his dad spent most of his life on the road. As boys, they’d had each other to depend on. As men, neither ever doubted the other would be there when needed. Sometimes Hank swore he could still see Warren standing in his doorway holding two longnecks and asking if Hank had time to talk. Problems with work, or women, or family were shared, if not solved.

He’d never had a better friend than Warren. Letting him go was the hardest thing Hank had ever had to do. If he could have traded his life for Warren’s that night on the bloody road, he would have.

Don’t think,
Hank almost screamed.
Just fight the fire. Don’t think.

He was barely aware of a hand patting him on the arm.

“Hank,” Bob McNabb yelled over all the noise. “The major wants to see you.”

Hank nodded and moved back away from the fire. He felt stiff, as if he’d turned into a tin man from the hours spent in the heat. He hurt in so many places they’d all blended together in a dull throbbing he barely noticed.

He grabbed a bottle of water and moved to where she’d set up a table out of everyone’s way.

Major Katherine Cummings looked up from a chart she’d been studying. “Chief,” she said.

“Major,” he answered. “Don’t try telling me to stop.”

She smiled. “I won’t waste my time. I just wanted to tell you that it looks like we’re finally winning. Unless the wind kicks up before three, we may have this fire under control by then. I’ve been in touch with the National Weather Bureau, and they predict a relatively calm day with a slight chance of rain. That may be the break we need.”

Hank tried to relax the knots in his shoulders. “How much of my place will we lose by then?”

“Half the grass and fences. One barn. All the trees along the breaks to the north. But we saved the house and grounds, thanks to your foresight.”

“Half,” he said, thinking that he was barely keeping the place going when he had all his land. He’d have to buy feed to cover the grass he lost. With the price of cattle, he’d be lucky if he could hold out the winter.

Any other time the news would have buckled his legs, but now it hardly registered.

“You’ve been up and fighting thirty hours, Hank,” she said.

He didn’t want to be told to quit. That word had never worked for him. “How’s Tyler Wright?”

“Tyler?”

“The man who saved Saralynn. Alex should have reported in by now. Is he all right?”

Katherine frowned. “I haven’t heard.”

“You know him?” Hank asked.

“No.” She hesitated, as if trying to put a puzzle together but the pieces wouldn’t fit. “I know a different Tyler. A shy gentleman.”

She looked down, and he was surprised to see her cheeks reddening as if she’d said more than she’d intended.

Hank shrugged. “Beneath all that mud and blood was a knight, Major Cummings. A true knight. He very well may have saved my niece’s life.”

“If you say so,” she answered. “All I saw was the mud and blood and . . .” She smiled and added, “The way your niece held on to that filthy man’s neck. I knew the minute I looked at her that she was not being kidnapped.”

Two more trucks from counties fifty miles away pulled up, and men moved in to relieve exhausted fighters.

“I can take over here for one hour. You’ve already sent the original teams home to rest.” She glanced at his house in the distance. “Go take a shower and eat something; you’ll feel better. We’re holding the line here.”

Hank had finally reached the point where he was too tired to argue. She was right; with the new men, she could hold the line. He tossed his gloves in the back of his truck and drove across dried grass toward home.

Five minutes later, he climbed the outside stairs to his rooms, stripping off clothes as he climbed. By the time he reached his bathroom, all he had left to pull off was his jeans, and then without hesitating, he stepped into a cool shower.

The steady stream of water had washed away all thought when he heard someone call his name. For a moment, he just stood beneath the water, unwilling to step out. Then he flipped the shower off and grabbed a towel as he opened the shower door.

Alex was standing at his bathroom door staring at him.

Hank didn’t bother to cover up. She’d seen all of him anyway. “What do you want?”

“The major said you wanted to know about Tyler.” Hank dried off, waiting for her to speak or leave. He didn’t much care which. “What about him?”

“The hospital put three stitches along his hairline where Davis slammed him into the concrete, and then they doctored a dozen deep scratches that will heal without stitches. He’s going to be fine.”

“Good. I’m glad you got there in time to stop Davis. If I’d been alone he probably would have shot me.” Hank couldn’t believe he was talking to her as if nothing had happened. Maybe they were just both pretending Davis hadn’t made the comment about it being her fault Warren died.

He pulled on his underwear, ending her peep show.

“Katherine deserves the credit for saving you. It was funny . . . all the way to the hospital, Saralynn slept and Tyler didn’t say a word until we were checking in at the desk. At that point, he asked me what the hazel-eyed lady’s name was. When I said Katherine, he looked so sad, like something had just died.”

“Did he know her?” Hank pulled on a pair of clean jeans and pushed Alex out of the way so he could grab a shirt from a drawer.

She followed. “I asked him that, and he said no.”

That was it, they’d both run out of anything to say. He stood holding his shirt. She stood fighting back tears, her arms crossed as if holding the world at bay.

He swore and tossed his shirt on the bed. “Come here,” he ordered.

“Why? So you can hit me? So you can tell me how much you hate me?”

“Come over here.” Hank felt like yelling, but he kept his voice low. “I’ve been trying to get close to you for years, but this time, Alexandra, you’re going to have to make a move in my direction.”

She took a step, and he saw a touch of fear blended with uncertainty in her eyes. She’d always drawn off his strength, even when they wouldn’t talk about it. Now, he needed to draw off her.

Like he knew she would, she stood so close to him he could feel her breathe. The nearness of her made all the tension in his body slip away. When had it happened? When had he stopped being her rock and she had become his?

He slowly raised his hands and moved them along her arms, tightly folded across her chest. He took her wrists in his hands and pulled them until she gave way and her arms fell to her sides.

Then he wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him the way he’d always wanted to hold her.

She fought for a moment, stiffened as if to rebel, but she’d come to him. She’d crossed the room and he wasn’t going to let her push away this time.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you and you know it.” He kissed her hair. “Relax, baby.”

She slowly melted against him, raising her arms to rest them on his shoulders. When she swayed against him, he released his hold and moved his hands to cup her face, forcing her to look at him, hating the tears he saw in her blue eyes.

“Let’s get one thing straight right now, McAllen,” he started, and felt her try to tug away. He didn’t let go. This time he wasn’t letting go.

“I don’t give a damn what Davis said. I know you would never hurt your brother intentionally.” He kissed her forehead. “And you should know that I’d know that.”

He kissed her full on the mouth, hard and completely like he’d wanted to for years. He felt passion shatter in his arms and flood over them both.

When he broke the kiss, she whispered, “It was my fault . . . I should have . . .”

He kissed her until she gave up trying to talk, then whispered in her ear while she caught her breath. “I don’t want to talk, baby. I just want to be with you.”

She wrapped her arms around him so tight he could barely breathe as he lifted her up and walked toward the bed. “We’ve only got a little while. I don’t need sleep or food. I just need to hold you.”

And then his wild and strong Alex did something he’d never seen her do, not even when she was a child.

She cried and he held her tight.

TYLER WRIGHT WAITED IN THE HOSPITAL ROOM FOR Willamina to bring him some clothes. He refused to walk out of the hospital looking like he’d been in a bar fight with a mud monster.

He also refused to stand up, knowing full well that the hospital gown he had on did not meet in the back. The nurse had come in twice to tell him that he could go, but he’d wait for his clothes.

He tried to piece together everything that had happened this morning from the time he escaped out of the sheriff’s office. It all seemed like one of those late-night movies people watch but can never remember the name of at dawn. He’d never done anything wild in his life . . . until this morning. His rap sheet was probably a full page by now. Breaking and entering. Speeding. Resisting arrest.

And in the mix of everything, he’d seen a woman with hazel eyes. Alex said her name was Katherine, but Tyler decided he’d misunderstood. Maybe at that low point in his life he just wanted his Katherine to be there. A woman he talked with on the Internet would not simply appear in his world at a low point. His Kate couldn’t be that Katherine.

The nurse brought him in a hanging clothes bag and announced that the woman who delivered them said she didn’t have time to wait, this was her shopping day. Tyler wasn’t surprised. He’d bought Willamina the little Saturn five years ago and she’d yet to let him ride in it.

Tyler called one of the men who worked for him to come over and pick him up, then hurried to the bathroom to dress.

A few minutes later when he walked out to the black Cadillac, he looked and felt almost back to normal, even though he hadn’t had a proper bath and a huge Band-Aid covered his forehead.

He stopped off for two double-meat cheeseburgers and fries before going home and straight to his study. He pulled up his e-mails. None from Katherine.

He typed a hello to her and ate one of the burgers while he waited. He checked again. No answer. He ate the other burger and all the fries and tried one more time.