Bucking Bronc Lodge 04(72)

Mason didn’t usually think in terms of worst-case scenarios, but he had a split-second thought that his new trainer might burn to death. The possibility gave him a much-needed jolt of adrenaline, and Rusty and he threw the door off her. In the same motion, Mason latched on to her arm and dragged her away from the guesthouse.

“I couldn’t get out,” she said, her voice clogged with smoke and fear.

“You’re out now,” he let her know.

Out but not necessarily safe. The ranch hands were already there with the hoses, but he doubted the house would stand much longer. If it collapsed, Abbie could still be burned or hurt from the flying debris.

“Are the horses okay?” she asked. Mason was more than a little surprised that she’d think of the animals at a time like this.

“They’re fine.” At least he was pretty sure of that. “This is the only building on fire.”

Mason scooped her up, and she looked at him. It was pitch-dark, probably two or three in the morning, but thanks to the flames and the hunter’s moon, he saw her eyes widen. A single word left her mouth.

“No.”

Mason didn’t have time to question that no before she started struggling. She wasn’t a large woman, five-five at the most and on the lean side, but she managed to pack a punch when she rammed her elbow against his bare chest. He cursed and put her in a death grip so she couldn’t fight her way out of his arms.

“I’m trying to save you,” he reminded her, and he added more profanity when she didn’t stop fighting.

Abbie was probably still caught up in the fear and the adrenaline, but Mason was finding it a little hard to be sympathetic with the cold rocky ground biting into his bare feet and with her arms and legs waggling around.

“We have to get away from the fire,” he snarled.

Those wide frightened eyes looked at the flames, and she stopped struggling just long enough for Mason to get a better grip on her.

He started running toward the ranch office where lately he’d been spending most of his days and nights because of the heavy workload. He could deposit Abbie there and hurry back to see if the guesthouse could be saved. He wasn’t hopeful, especially because the ranch wasn’t exactly in city limits. It would take the fire department a good twenty minutes to reach them.

The door to his office and quarters was still open, and he hurried inside, flipped on the lights with his elbow and placed her on the sofa. Mason looked down at her, to make sure she wasn’t injured.

She didn’t appear to be.

Visibly shaken, yes. Trembling, too. Pale and breathing way too fast. All normal responses under the circumstances.

Her eyes met his again, and Mason saw the fear that was still there. And maybe something else that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Did you try to kill me?” she asked.

That single question seemed to be all she could muster because she groaned, closed her eyes, and the back of her head dropped against the sofa.

Mason huffed. That definitely wasn’t something he expected to hear her say. He’d been a deputy for fifteen years, and his employee no doubt knew it. Even though most people were leery of him because…well, because he wasn’t a friendly sort, they didn’t usually accuse him of arson or attempted murder.

“Why would I set this fire?” he demanded.

Abbie opened her mouth, closed it and shook her head. She also dodged his gaze. “I’m not sure what I’m saying right now. I thought I was going to die.”

Mason guessed that was a normal response, but he was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. “How did the fire start?”

Abbie shook her head again. “I’m not sure. I woke up, and there was smoke all around me. I tried to get to the door, but I started coughing and couldn’t see.” She paused, shivered. “When I got to the door and opened it, it fell on me.” Another pause. “Or something.”

“Or something?” he pushed.

Oh, man. The bad feeling was getting worse, and Mason blamed it on that stupid question. Was there a nonstupid reason that she thought someone had tried to kill her, or was this the ramblings of a woman whose mind had been clouded with fear and adrenaline?

“Or something,” she repeated.

Abbie pushed her light brown hair from her face. Long hair, he noticed. Something he hadn’t realized because she always wore it tucked beneath a baseball cap. In fact, he’d thought of her as tomboyish, but there wasn’t anything boyish or tom about the person lying on his sofa. In that paper-thin pale blue gown, she looked like a woman.

An attractive one.

Something Mason wished like the devil he hadn’t noticed. She worked for him, and he didn’t tread down that path. Business and sex never sat well with him.