Wildcard by Cheyenne McCray Page B

and calming her down.
    As she led Dancer out of the barn, the smell of smoke nearly overwhelmed her. She heard shouts, saw men rushing back and forth, and knew they were fighting the fire. Everything seemed to be a blur, a horrific kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, smells and sensation.
    When she finally made it out of the barn with Dancer, Trace led the horse to the closest corral. The teenaged ranch hand helped her open the gate and put the mare safely inside. Clenching her jacket in her hands, Trace rushed back to the barn, set to go in again.
    Someone grabbed her from behind and whirled her around. “What the hell are you doing?” Jess’s face was streaked with smoke his furious glare focused on her.
    “I’m getting the animals out!” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go.
    “It’s too damn dangerous in there, you little shit.” Jess gripped her arm and started dragging her toward the far end of the barn. “That smoke could kill you,” he said as he brought her to where the men were fighting the fire with hoses and buckets and fire extinguishers. A sigh of relief rushed through her when she realized the fire was almost out.
    “Get a bucket and help from this end,” he said in a tone she’d never heard from him before. “If you try to go into that barn before I say it’s time, I’ll tie you to the fence post.”
    With that he strode back to where the men where still throwing buckets of water on the fire from the stock tanks, and spraying it down with the hose. Trace’s first instinct was to be furious with him for his high-handedness, but then she realized what it was she’d heard in his tone and seen in his eyes.
    He’d been scared for her. Afraid something had happened, or that something would happen to her.
    If she’d thought it was all a blur before, it seemed even more so, later. By the time the fire was completely out and all the animals treated and returned to their stalls, dawn was breaking. Trace was so tired that she could hardly see straight. Her muscles ached, her eyes and throat burned and she felt like she’d sleep for a week.
    While the men had fought the fire, Dee had called the sheriff’s office. Jarrod had arrived by the time the fire was out, and spent time going over the scene with Jake and Jess.
    After they took a look around, the three men were sure the fire had been deliberately set. And when Trace told them about the shadow she’d seen, that confirmed it in their eyes, although they intended to investigate it further.
    Even as her tired mind listened to the men discuss the fire, it sure seemed like Jess knew a lot more about crime investigations than most ranch foreman would probably know.
    Trace could hardly keep her eyes open, and she didn’t protest when Jess insisted she get back to the house, take a shower and then get to bed. He didn’t say another word about her running into the barn like she had. Instead he escorted her into the house, kissed the top of her head, and then left her there staring out the living room window and watching him walk away.
     

Chapter Eight
    Jess stood behind Trace at the firing range as she aimed the handgun at the target. “That’s it, sugar,” he murmured, even though she couldn’t hear him through the protective ear coverings she wore, “you’re doing fine.”
    She seemed to understand him, though, and her hands were steadier on this shot than they’d been during her first half dozen. Trace had argued with him about not needing to learn how to handle a firearm, but after that threatening note and then the incident in the barn just a couple of nights ago, he wasn’t taking any chances.
    Someone was messing around with the MacLeod women, and he was going to make sure nothing happened to either of them.
    When Trace finished firing that last round of bullets, she set the gun down, pulled off her ear coverings and gave him a tired smile. “I think I did better that time.”
    Jess nodded and pressed the button that