Resisting Mr. Tall, Dark & Texan Read online

  “Stop worrying,” Ethan said.

  “I’m trying, I’m trying.”

  “We’ll leave after lunch. Grant’s arranged to have horses waiting for us. I want to take a look at the interior of a few of the condos, just to see the quality of the furnishings, the finishes, that kind of thing. And we’ll get a closer look than we did Tuesday at a couple of those cabins higher up, too.”

  “Will Steph and Tori be coming?”

  “Nope. Connor and Tori are out of town until tomorrow. Stephanie’s busy at the Clifton ranch. Grant’s got meetings. He’s going to leave the keys with the stable hand. It will be just the two of us this time.”

  Just the two of us. It sounded downright romantic. She wished. “Want to go before lunch? I can pack some sandwiches.”

  “That would work.”

  She shut down her computer. “Give me twenty minutes. I’ll be ready and so will the food.”

  The horses were waiting at the resort stables as promised. The groom gave them a set of keys and a map of the resort, with the route to the condos and the various cabins marked in red. Because it was the same way they’d gone Tuesday, they probably would have had no trouble finding what they were looking for. Ethan took the map anyway and thanked the groom.

  They mounted and set out on the road to the condos, side by side. It was another gorgeous day, warm with a nice breeze. Lizzie was glad to be out in the open, glad to be with Ethan.

  He sent her a smile from under the shadow of his hat. Her heart warmed. If she couldn’t have it all with him, well, at least he was her friend. The best friend any girl could ever have.

  They reached the condos within half an hour and toured two of them, one in the first block of buildings on the ground floor and one deeper into the complex, upstairs.

  Ethan seemed pleased with the furnishings, which were all of good quality, in rich jewel colors—vivid reds, deep blues, golds and emerald greens. The small kitchens had granite counters and stainless-steel appliances. Everything was clean and well maintained.

  When they left the second condo, they stood on the landing and stared out at the pine-covered mountains all around. “No surprises here,” he said.

  She nodded. “Just like the rest of the resort. Everything in great condition.”

  “Grant runs a tight operation all right.” He sent her a glance. “And this is probably an unnecessary trip.”

  She put a finger to her lips. “Shh. Don’t say that. It’s a gorgeous day and the view is spectacular.”

  His gaze was warm. Appreciative. She basked in it.

  They mounted their horses again and proceeded up the mountain.

  “You hungry?” Ethan asked before they reached any of the cabins. He gestured at the open meadows that surrounded them on either side. A stand of cottonwoods at the edge of the meadow directly west of them seemed to indicate a stream nearby. “Great place for a picnic.”

  They rode out among the tall grasses and wildflowers, and heard the soft rushing sound of the stream as they approached it. Lizzie had brought a blanket, which they spread under a cottonwood tree right at the spot where the bank sloped away toward the creek. She had roast-beef sandwiches, bags of chips, some ripe red apples and a big thermos of iced tea.

  She sat close to him on the blanket, munching an apple and indulging herself in a little fantasy of what it might be like if they were lovers. They would share a few kisses certainly, maybe take off their boots and wade in the cool, clear water of the little creek.

  They might even go farther. She hadn’t seen any other people since they left the settlement of condos. What would it be like to make love here, in the shade of the cottonwood trees on this breezy, sunny day?

  It seemed kind of depressing that she would never know.

  She glanced his way and found him watching her and she had a feeling that he was thinking more or less what she was thinking.

  But she didn’t ask him. Because he seemed so determined to be her friend and only her friend, it was probably better not to know.

  “Nice here,” she said, keeping it neutral. Safe.

  He made a low noise of agreement. “Ready to move on?”

  She wrapped up the remains of their meal and packed it in her saddlebag as he rolled the blanket. In no time, they were back on the horses and setting off across the meadow toward the road.

  It was a little after two when they reached the first cabin. Ethan had a key to that one, so they rode right up to the front porch, tied the horses on the rail there and went in.

  The door opened on a great room with a soaring two-story ceiling furnished in a comfortable rustic style. There were lots of windows letting in the daylight, framing a view of a wide deck and the piney mountains all around. The open kitchen had all the modern conveniences.

  “It’s beautiful,” Lizzie said, as they entered the master suite which shared the deck with the great room and also had the same spectacular views.

  Ethan went into the master bath, but Lizzie continued on toward the French doors that opened onto the deck. She flipped the lock and pulled the door wide and went out to stand at the railing and gaze over the canyon that fell away below.

  The wind had picked up in the past half hour or so. As she stared out over the crown of trees below, she caught a faint whiff of smoke. She scanned the surrounding hillside for a sign of the source.

  There was nothing.

  Ethan came out through the open door. “Do you smell smoke?”

  Just as he asked the question, she heard the strangest whooshing sound.

  And suddenly, the hillside about a hundred yards below her was on fire.

  Lizzie gasped. “Oh, my God!” She knew such things could happen, a fire smoldering in the underbrush and then, in an instant, leaping upward into the crowns of the trees.

  Still, she had trouble believing her own eyes. She stared at the bright, roiling balls of vivid flame. And as she watched, with another sizzling whoosh, the balls of fire leaped closer, setting the tops of more trees ablaze.

  It was climbing the hillside, coming straight for the cabin.

  Ethan grabbed her hand, his warm fingers closing over her suddenly numb ones. “Time to go, Lizzie.”

  It just didn’t seem real. She hung back as he tugged on her arm. “We should…call someone, shouldn’t we?”

  “Come on.” He pulled her inside and went straight to the phone on the nightstand. “Deader than a hammer.” He slammed it back into the cradle. “They must turn it off when there’s no one using the place.”

  “Oh, Ethan…” Now, out through the French doors, she could see the billows of smoke rising from below the deck.

  “We can try a cell. As soon as we’re out of here.” He grabbed her hand again and they made for the front door.

  Outside, the horses were snorting, tugging at their leads, agitated by the smell of smoke, which was much stronger now than it had been only moments before out on the deck. Her gray gelding shook his mane and pawed the ground.

  “Easy, now, easy…” Lizzie tried to soothe him.

  Ethan was already mounted. “Lizzie, need help?”

  “He’s a little freaked out, but I think I’m okay.” She got her boot up into the stirrup and her other leg over, finding her seat. Then she bent forward and whispered more reassurances to the agitated gray. He pranced and tossed his head some more, but then seemed to settle a little.

  “Fire moves toward the oxygen,” Ethan said.

  She patted the gray’s powerful neck. “Uphill. And the wind’s going that way, too.”

  “I’m hoping it’s just in that area down the canyon and the road is safe—as of now, anyway.”

  She knew what he was saying. The fire would be spreading, moving up toward the road at the same time as it burned toward the cabin.

  He urged his horse in the direction of the road. She guided the gray along behind him. He was already getting out his cell. “No signal,” he told her. “We can try again in a few minutes, farther on. Up here, the s
ignals seem to fade in and out.”

  The air swiftly thickened with acrid, throat-scratching smoke as they rode down the winding dirt driveway that led to the main road.

  They reached the road within minutes and started down the mountain.

  Ethan took out his phone again. “I’ve got a couple of bars and the resort on autodial. I’ll try 911 first.” He did. And shook his head. “Nothing. I’ll call the resort.”

  That time, when he put the phone to his ear, he gave Lizzie a nod; he’d gotten through. “This is Ethan Traub,” he said. And he repeated his cell number and gave their location. “There’s a fire burning fast up the mountain from the canyon right below the first cabin. Call for help, please. And tell Grant Clifton… Hello? Hello?” He pulled the phone away from his ear. “That was the switchboard. I lost her.”

  “You think she understood?”

  “I sure hope so.” He put the phone away and coughed against the smoke that now filled the air. “Protect your face.” He pulled up the bandana he always wore when he rode, covering his mouth and nose.

  She did the same. The cloth barrier helped a little against the choking burn of the smoke.

  He gave her a nod from behind his makeshift mask. “Let’s get a move on.”

  They started down the road. The horses chuffed and snorted against the smoke. But so far, they were doing all right. If it got too much thicker, though, they would need to dismount and lead them. It looked clear ahead—lots of smoke rolling up from the canyon, but no flames so far—and Lizzie began to feel more confident that they would make it down the mountain safely.

  But then, right ahead of them, a wild-eyed doe burst from the brush, up from canyon, fleeing the fire.

  The terrified animal zipped across the dirt road and scrambled up the bank on the other side, spooking the already uneasy horses.

  She heard Ethan talking to his mount. “Whoa, whoa, girl. Settle now, settle…” She glanced over and saw that his horse was dancing in circles.

  And then her gray reared up on his hind legs. She should have been ready for that, but she wasn’t. One moment she was on the back of the gray.

  The next, she was flying through the air.

  “Lizzie!” Ethan’s voice. Calling her name.

  And then she hit the ground. Hard.

  The breath fled her lungs. Her teeth clanged together hard enough that she wondered if she’d cracked a few of them. She heard the furious pounding of hooves somewhere, moving away. Her horse, maybe running off?

  The world had started spinning. Faster and faster. And then slowly, it resolved into a tiny pinpoint of too-bright light.

  The light didn’t last long. Within a second or two, everything went black.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Lizzie. My God. Lizzie…”

  She opened her eyes. Ethan loomed above her. He looked like a bandit with the bandana still covering the lower half of his face—an absolutely terrified bandit. She realized she’d never seen him scared before. Not like he was now. Not stark-eyed, life-and-death scared.

  “Hey.” She blinked. Twice. Her own bandana had slipped down around her neck again. Her head hurt. And so did her teeth. But she knew where she was—flat on the ground in the middle of a dirt road. She knew what had happened. And she could still smell smoke. That smell was getting stronger. “So I’m thinking I’m not dead, after all. Tell me I’m right.”

  “Don’t move.” He slid something under her head—his jacket. “Just stay right where you are.”

  “Ethan, I’m fine. My horse?”

  “Bolted.” He yanked his own bandana down. And she saw his lips were white with fear. For her. “Don’t worry about the damn horse.”

  She reached up, touched his dear, frightened face. So warm. So real. “I’m okay. I really am. Please believe me. We need to get out of here.”

  He laid a tender hand on her forehead, stroked her hair back out of her eyes, his touch so light, so full of care. “You hit your head. Oh, God, Lizzie. You were knocked out. You could have been—”

  “I said I’m fine. Let me up.”

  He scowled and put a hand on her shoulder, holding her down. “Lizzie—”

  “I mean it. Let me up.”

  Reluctantly, he released her. She popped to a sitting position, groaning a little, reaching around to probe at the back of her head where there was already one heck of a goose egg taking shape. “Ugh.”

  He was still scowling. “I don’t think you should be sitting up.”

  “As if we have any choice in the matter. I think we really have to get moving.” She brought her hand around to the front. There was blood on her fingers. “Yuck. I’m bleeding.”

  Ethan swore. “Let me see.”

  She turned around so he could have a look. “Where’s my hat?” As she asked the question, she saw it a few feet away, trampled on the road. Ethan’s mare was there, too, patiently waiting beside the crumpled hat. “At least we still have a horse.”

  “The bleeding’s not too bad,” he said. “But you’ve got one hell of a bump back here.”

  “Ouch.” She put her hand to her mouth and coughed against the black roiling smoke rising up from the bushes on the side of the road where the bank dropped off sharply into the canyon below. “We have to go. Quit poking at it. Help me up.”

  “Lizzie—”

  “I can’t sit here in the road all day, not with the smoke getting thicker and the fire coming closer.” She pulled up her bandana to cover her nose again and held out her hand to him. “Help me up.” He swore some more, but then pulled up his own bandana and gave her his hand. With his strong arm to aid her, she rose unsteadily to her feet.

  As soon as she staggered upright, he got hold of her by the shoulders. “Are you dizzy?” He peered hard into her eyes.

  “No, I’m not dizzy.” Yes, her head hurt, but it could have been worse. “I’m fine. I mean it. My hat?”

  “I’ll get it.” Slowly, as if he feared she might suddenly drop in a dead faint, he released her and bent to grab the hat. She brushed the dust off her jeans and shirt as best she could. “Here you go.” He handed it over, bending to retrieve his balled-up, slightly bloodied jacket.

  She fisted the hat back into reasonable shape and put it on. “Let’s get out of here.” She could see the fire now, not ten feet away, eating into the brush at the cliff edge of the road, spreading out to either side in shining red trails, the black smoke billowing, blown right at them by the wind that seemed to gust harder every second. That fire was much too close. Even Ethan’s patient mare was starting to snort and circle.

  He mounted up. The mare snorted once more, but seemed to calm as soon as her rider had the reins. He held down his hand and Lizzie swung up behind him.

  Whoosh.

  Ten yards ahead of them, right before the road turned, the fire jumped to the other side. The bushes on the upper bank burst into flame and the fire licked higher, moving on up the mountain.

  Lizzie wrapped her arms around Ethan’s waist and buried her face against his broad back. “Let’s go—now!”

  He urged the horse forward at a walk. It wasn’t safe in a danger zone to go above a trot. Ethan played it extra cautious and kept the speed way down. Lizzie held on and formed a silent prayer, that they would make it, get through the fire to safety.

  If anyone could get them out of there, Ethan could. She so admired him during that deadly ride. It took nerves of steel to keep the mare going slow and steady in spite of the choking smoke, the constantly increasing heat and the crackling, hissing sounds the fire made.

  As if it were a living thing, and hungry, ready to jump at them and eat them alive.

  In minutes, they were in the hottest area, with fire surrounding them, on either side of the road. It was like riding through a tunnel in hell.

  Ethan kept the horse going steadily forward. She was a champion, that mare. She startled twice, when a jackrabbit ran directly across their path and then when drifting embers from the fire burned her sleek
red-brown coat. Ethan managed to calm the horse both times, and he brushed away the burning ash with his hand.

  Lizzie had the easy job. She only had to hold on and not lose her seat.

  It didn’t take all that long. It only seemed like forever and a day. Within maybe ten minutes of mounting behind Ethan, the smoke was thinning and the fire was mostly above and behind them. A few embers still smoldered on the canyon side of the road.

  Ethan urged the mare to a trot then. “Hold on, Lizzie.”

  “I am. Don’t worry about me.”

  They rode on at a brisk pace for fifteen or twenty minutes. By then, the danger was well behind them. Ethan slowed the horse and then reined her to a stop.

  As he got out his phone and tried the resort again, Lizzie dared to look back the way they had come. It wasn’t pretty. Thick, black smoke billowed up to the clear, blue sky. Someone surely must have seen it and turned in an alarm by now.

  Ethan got through. “This is Ethan Traub— Yes? Okay. Great. Good. We made it, yeah. We’re below the fire now, out of danger, on our way to the clubhouse.” He ended the call and told Lizzie, “That first switchboard operator was on the ball. She called it in. The forest service is sending up crews.”

  As he said the words, she heard the planes overhead on their way to dump loads of fire retardant on the blaze.

  Ethan clucked his tongue at the mare and she ambled on down the road again.

  Lizzie’s gray had made it back to the stables ahead of them. He was lathered and winded, but otherwise okay.

  Ethan refused to go back to town until she’d visited the infirmary at the resort’s clubhouse. The doctor checked out the bump on her head, cleaned it with disinfectant and told her he thought she would be stiff and achy tomorrow but otherwise okay. Just to be on the safe side, he ran down the danger signs to watch for with a head injury. Ethan listened with fierce concentration and promised he’d be keeping his eye on her for any sign of disorientation or sudden confusion.

  Grant found them in the infirmary. He reported that the forest service already had the fire under control, thanks to Ethan’s early call. The cabin was a burned-out shell, but other than that, the only damage was the torched hillside.