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Speed was impossible over the newly plowed ground. She stumbled over a hard clod and would have fallen if a pair of hands hadn’t steadied her.

“Careful.” The quiet-voiced warning was muffled by a dingy white handkerchief tied across the lower half of her rescuer’s face. But Dallas would have recognized Quint’s voice and those gray eyes anywhere.

“Thanks,” she murmured, not at all surprised to find Quint at her side.

Several times since the fire trucks arrived, she’d caught glimpses of him, moving up and down the fire line, pitching in to help where the flames threatened to jump the wash and run wild again.

“Are you all right?” A supporting hand remained on her.

Dallas tried to nod in answer and started coughing instead. His grip shifted to her waist. “Let’s get you out of here,” Quint said and proceeded to half carry and half guide her clear of the thick smoke. He turned her to face him and pulled down the masking kerchief. “Can you breathe okay now?” he asked, tipping his head toward her.

She smothered a last, low cough and nodded. “I’m fine.”

The lines around his eyes crinkled in a smile. “Good.” His glance immediately darted back to the fire line. “I think the worst is over. We’ve almost got it under control.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when flames shot into the air, soaring twenty feet high or more some distance to the west. Dallas breathed in a sharp gasp of alarm at the size and suddenness of them

.

“The hay bale Empty put out for the cattle,” Quint said in explanation. “I figured it would be going up any second now. I was right.”

Reassured by his lack of concern, Dallas felt her pulse settle back into its normal rhythm and pulled her gaze away from the fiery yellow tower, bringing it back to Quint. His face was in profile, the ridges and hollows of his lean features lit by the brilliant glow of the distant flames.

There was no weariness or worry in his expression. The impression he gave was one of alertness and determination. But Dallas recalled it had been that way from the moment the fire was first discovered, showing haste but never panic or indecision.

“Empty should be coming along with the tractor any minute now,” Quint said, once more bringing his attention back to her. “When he does, have him take you back to the ranch house.” Before Dallas could insist again that she was fine, Quint added, “Make sure he goes with you. He looked like he was about to collapse when I last saw him. But you know Empty. He’s too proud to admit that.”

“But even if he takes me back, he’ll never stay.” Concern for her grandfather had Dallas searching for an excuse he might believe.

Quint was quick to provide one. “He can help you throw together some sandwiches and coffee for the firefighters. It’ll be his job to bring them back here as soon as they’re all made and packed up. But take your time and keep him out of this smoke for as long as you can.”

“I’ll find a way,” she promised.

His gray eyes crinkled at the corners again. The chug of the tractor reached them, and Quint turned in the direction of the sound. “Here he comes now,” he said as the tractor’s headlights became visible in the smoky darkness. “Good luck.”

When he headed for the fire line, Dallas called after him, “Be careful.”

She couldn’t tell whether Quint had heard her. At the same time, she knew her words of caution were unnecessary. She had the feeling Quint could handle anything that came his way.

Except Rutledge, of course.

PART THREE

A shining star,

A rainy night,

A Calder loves,

But something’s not right.

Chapter Twelve

Shortly after dawn the fire was out, and the exodus of the firefighting units began as the focus shifted to searching out hot spots and hosing down the still-smoldering hay bales next to the ranch yard, a task that required the services of only a single fire truck and its crew.

Standing at a kitchen window, Dallas had a clear view of the charred landscape to the south. Where the hay bales had been, there was a long, black heap of ash and cinder with only an occasional golden scrap of unburned hay glinting in the morning sunlight.

With no more wisps of smoke coming from the hay pile, one of the firemen was busy stowing the hose in the truck. A second man had already shed his protective gear and stood talking to Quint.

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