Consumed by Fire by Anne Stuart

tonight in case we have any follow-up.”
    She didn’t want to tell him, but that was childish. It was just a campground. She would have given anything to snarl at him. Ever since . . . Italy . . . she hadn’t been big on patience, but she knew when she was outclassed. She gave him a polite smile, rising and gathering her papers together, and told him the name of the camping area she’d decided on. “Thank you.”
    The second agent rolled his eyes, looking at his fellow worker, and some of Evangeline’s anxiety faded. If they all thought the man was an asshole, then she wasn’t alone. And she was about to get a bathroom, her dog, and her trailer, in that order. At this rate they’d make it to the camping area near Bear’s Claw, Montana.
    There was no sign of her nemesis when she emerged from her blissful time in the ladies’ room, and once released, Merlin was a perfect gentleman as always. What had gotten into him, to be so aggressive with the border patrol? He seemed absolutely fine around the other two on duty, treating them with polite friendliness, even condescending to wagging his tail when one of them scratched him behind his ears.
    “Fine dog you have there, miss,” the man said. “Sorry you had to deal with Smith. He’s a newbie and he’s a little too by-the-book.”
    “That’s one way to put it,” the other man muttered, clearly not impressed with their new agent. “Do you need any help getting your stuff together?”
    She smiled at them gratefully. Maybe all men weren’t buttholes. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine. I just want to make it to Bear’s Claw by tonight.”
    “That’s a pretty remote area, miss. You sure you’ll be all right? Even this time of year there aren’t many people around.”
    Merlin lifted his head, offended, and Evangeline laughed. “I’ve got Merlin. He’s more than enough protection.”
    “Well, he sure as hell didn’t like Smith, so the dog clearly has good sense.”
    Merlin paced beside Evangeline as she checked the trailer hitch, just to be sure, then opened the door of the old pickup. The dog hopped in and settled down on the bench seat before she could say a word, and she climbed in after him, grabbing a Diet Coke from her cooler and refilling the water pan she had strapped to the floor on the passenger side. A moment later she was off, the obnoxious border agent forgotten.
    The roads were rough as she drove into Montana. For some reason Merlin seemed restless, glancing back at the camper every few minutes and whining softly. “What’s up, Merlin? Something wrong with Annabelle? I checked the hitch and the tires, and everything’s fine. We’ll just put everything back in order when we camp for the night.”
    Merlin was only slightly appeased, and continued to look back at the trailer with an expectant expression on his face. As Evangeline took another slug of her DC, she turned on Grace, her GPS, programmed with the soothing voice of a British woman. For a while she’d called her Mary Poppins, but Mary Poppins was too grumpy and she ended up being Grace. Evangeline turned off onto a secondary road, and it took her almost two hours to find the campground in Bear’s Claw, Montana.
    “Remote” wasn’t the word for it. It was as if she were on another well-forested planet. The sign was old, covered with moss, the cabin at the entrance was deserted, and she had the depressing feeling there’d be no plumbing or electricity.
    It didn’t matter. There was plenty of room to park, and a clear, fresh stream ran across the back of the clearing. She needed to set up, get something to eat, open up the trailer, and check the damage. She backed up carefully, jerked when she misjudged and bumped the back end of the camper into a sapling. Merlin was whining again, almost desperately, and she figured he had to pee. She put the truck in park and opened the door.
    Normally Merlin was the most gentlemanly of animals, and waited for her to precede him. This time he