A chill shuddered down her spine to hear her thoughts expressed in his roughened silk voice. Especially when the thoughts came directly from her own private philosophy of male psychology. "Um, okay. Really strange you'd say that."
"Oh?" He climbed into the truck's passenger seat and stretched his long legs as far as the truck allowed. The dome light clearly illuminated a perfect dark brow arched as if in question.
Sam clicked her seatbelt in place. "I've thought the exact same thing myself."
"That I don't have any shortcomings that need to be hidden?" Both his expression and inflection said he wasn't quite sure if she were serious or joking.
Sam tilted her head a little, as if that would help her understand him. Either he was unbelievably conceited or profoundly lacking in some vital social element. "You're kidding? I hope? I know nothing about your inadequacies, nor do I want to." She concentrated on keeping her voice icily correct.
Serious discussion with the man seemed to be a colossal waste of time. No matter, as long as he did what she needed him to. She put the truck in gear and pulled onto the rough track that would take them to the next hay shed a few miles away on another tract of land.
The going was slow when they drew near. Small bunches of cattle, recognizing the truck as a feed delivery system, began to drift along behind them. She cut their speed so the cattle could keep up. The more the animals were gathered, the better their chances of survival.
Finally they rounded the shoulder of the low forested hill and came within view of the shed. An odd glow surrounded the steel frame building—not really a building, just a slanted roof on steel support posts and secured with woven fencing around the sides to protect the hay from lazy stock. Sam floored the accelerator, a sick greasy feeling creeping over her. That glow didn't come from anything good.
Toren straightened in his seat and looked closely toward the light. "Fire?"
"That's what it looks like."
The man actually had the sense to stay silent.
She skidded the truck around the side of the shed and ground to a stop, the tires throwing snow in a huge arc. Shoving her door open, she jumped from the truck before it came to a full halt and hit a dead run for the blaze.
Flames licked all along the flank of the shed, creeping along the exposed side of the hay. It hadn't been burning long enough to penetrate the tightly packed interior of the bales, so if they could get it extinguished, most of the hay would be saved.
Toren's feet pounded the frozen ground right behind her, then a big hand settled on her shoulder and propelled her downward with enough force to drop a steer.
"What the hell?" she growled as she spun out of his hold.
"Samantha, you can't run straight into a fire with no plan. Sixty seconds won't make a difference to the fire, but it might keep you alive." His silver eyes flashed and the easy-going guy was gone, replaced by a hard-ass who would tolerate no disagreement.
For once she followed orders without arguing. He stood beside her, peering into the flames, listening to the crackle and roar, trying to figure a way to save the hay.
The origin was easy enough to spot. The old tractor they kept parked there to move the giant bales was almost completely engulfed. Some idiot had left it primed so it would be easier to get started next time.
She moved closer, looking for a safe way to gain access and Toren grabbed hold of her arm. Her mind seemed to interpret it as a lifeline and didn’t protest. "If we can get a tow chain on the tractor, I can drag it out with the truck."
Toren immediately went for the chain covering ground fast. Sam moved a little closer to the tractor in search of a way to hook on. Leaning down, head nearly on the ground, she pinpointed what she needed in the form of the draw bar attached to the rear lift arms. Normally a wagon or other implement would be hitched there, so it should hold to tow the tractor.
An odd sound caught her attention and she froze as a heartrending cry split the smoky dark. Without thinking, Sam shot toward the shed, heading for the corner, ignoring Toren’s booming command to stop.
The pitiful bleating spurred her onward. She didn't even slow for the fence, just launched herself across to land in the burning chaff strewn over the ground.
Toren yelled her name, the sound closer. She ripped her coat off as she dropped to her knees and threw it over the tiny bundle that trembled and whimpered as smoke made breathing nearly impossible.
She thrust her arms under the calf and heaved, lifting it chest high and turned to stumble back toward the fence.
Toren lunged for her as burning hay tangled around her feet and dragged her to her knees. Flame erupted on her pant leg and seared her skin. The bolt of pain drew a scream from her and filled her lungs with furnace hot air.