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Sue would probably say he should have heeded the warning that he wasn’t ready to get back into the field, but Carlo would have ignored her. He shoved his fingers into his hair, considering turning back, but Pen deserved this apology.
She deserved more than that—she deserved to know what caused him to shut down. Carlo wasn’t sure how to articulate his fears, but for Pen he’d try. He had to try. Pen was the first person he thought of each day and the only one he wanted to share his life with, from the mundane to the amazing. So he’d find a way to explain the throat-closing fear of losing her—of how it would destroy him…
Carlo tilted his head. Had that been a car backfiring? The noise teased Carlo’s mind, making the hairs stand up on end. Before he realized it, he started running. Alpaca Man galloped toward Carlo, eyes wide and wild, mouth hanging open. Lydia was nowhere in sight.
“What’s gotten into you?” Carlo asked, affection and irritation warring for a moment until he realized Alpaca Man wasn’t slowing down. He bolted past Carlo, making noises of distress Carlo had never heard from him before. His eyes rolled back, much like a horse’s when panic seized them.
Not a car backfiring. No…
That had been a gunshot. Now, Pen’s scream blasted through the formerly calm, muggy morning. His stomach sank and his heart pounded as he mouthed her name. “Penelope! Go to my house,” Carlo called over his shoulder, wondering yet again what the alpaca understood. “The tool shed’s open; go in there.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket as he ran toward Pen’s place. He dialed 911, his heart rate so high he already gasped for air. Not Pen. Please don’t let Pen be hurt…or worse…
No, no, no. Not again. The woman he loved could not be in mortal danger again.
The operator answered and Carlo said, “Apple Orchard Lane. Shots fired. I heard a scream. Pen’s alpaca ran toward me from her house. He’s really frightened…”
That wasn’t clear, but it was all he had to go on.
“First house,” he panted. “The one with the green roof. Hurry.”
“Sir, is it possible for you to stay on the line?”
“Yeah. But I’m not holding the phone in my hand.” Carlo tucked the phone into the top pocket of his plaid shirt; the one Pen had teased made him look like a lumberjack. If anything had happened to her…
Those thoughts twirled through his head, and when added with his breathlessness, he became lightheaded. He blinked through the spots forming in his line of sight…but no, that really was the flickering of flames.
“Fire,” he breathed.
“What, sir? What did you say?”
“Fire! The—” He squinted. “The barn’s on fire.”
As he jumped over the fence about a hundred yards from Pen’s driveway, a car door slammed and an engine roared to life, which meant it couldn’t be Pen’s hybrid. Carlo sprinted toward the house as an old, boxy pickup sat in the driveway while a smaller vehicle sped away, spraying gravel. Carlo pulled his phone from his pocket and managed to open his camera application. He snapped a few photos, hoping one had the license plate.
He put the phone to his ear. His breath sawed out. “I tried to get photos. A small sedan just left. I think it’s gray or maybe a light blue. There was a blonde woman driving, I think. She turned left at the road, away from town. I’m approaching the house. There’s only a garden hose here—it won’t do much for the fire. It’s already into the hayloft.”
“I’ve let the fire chief know,” the operator said. “Don’t worry, sir. We’ll get help out that way as quick as we can.”
Carlo wasn’t sure that would be fast enough for Pen. He tucked his phone back into his pocket.
Lydia. She’d be inside. She liked the stall near the front—the one Carlo built an outdoor pen in for Alpaca Man.
Ah, there she was, outside. Carlo’s chest eased but he still ran toward her. She pawed at the posts, making terrified sounds. Carlo leaped over the top rail and lifted the thrashing animal. With a grunt, he got her front end over the railing. She writhed, kicking him in the thigh and gut before she managed to get her back end over the fence, then she was running across the yard and down the path toward Carlo’s house.
He heaved a sigh.
Penelope. She wasn’t out here. The heat of the fire singed his shirt. He scrambled back over the enclosure and bellowed her name. Oh…was she in the barn? She’d want to save Lydia. A crash from the barn caused his heart to race and tears to pool in his eyes.
Not his Sunshine. No. This couldn’t be happening. It was his worst nightmare, once again becoming a reality.
Another crash and the roof of the barn caved in. She wouldn’t be there. No way. She had to be inside the house. He couldn’t believe another option. He screamed her name as he ran toward the porch and raced through the front door. He called for her, his voice going hoarse as he moved through the downstairs rooms. The faint wail from a siren caught his attention but he ignored it as he continued to call for her. He caught a glimpse of something blue…denim…outside near the back steps as he entered the kitchen. The door was open so he raced through, falling to his knees next to Pen’s prone body. She lay facedown, her eyes closed, her cheek red and swollen.
He touched her skin with trembling fingers, the tips barely brushing her battered cheek before he slid them down to her neck. Her pulse beat strong and slow. He hissed out a choked breath.
“I found her. Oh, thank you…I found her… She’s…she’s alive, but I’m afraid to turn her over.”
The dispatcher’s voice was muffled and he ignored her. Much as he wanted to turn Pen, his training kicked in. Without any knowledge of the possible damage to her neck and spinal column, moving her without proper bracing could lead to more problems. He inched closer, his fingers sliding into her soft, golden hair. It was warm, thanks to the sun, and smelled of her shampoo—slightly floral but with hints of rosemary. He cradled the back of her skull, running his thumb up and down.
