And then Cade came sprinting back, his legs pumping wildly, his face more intense than she’d ever seen. He skidded to a stop beside her, swung the bags to the ground and dropped to one knee.
“We have to burn an escape route,” he shouted. He threw back the flap on his PG bag and yanked out some long red sticks.
The roar behind them grew louder, thundering through her skull, and the air around them started to shake. Her brain blanked, and she panted, unable to breathe. Her nerves zapped her muscles like the strings on a marionette.
“Help me light the fusees,” Cade shouted again. “We have to burn off the grass.”
A huge, black ball of smoke roiled through the trees and Dusty pawed to get free. The ground shuddered. Pines swayed. And a huge rush drummed through the air.
“Pull off the tabs and strike them.” Cade held out the foot-long sticks.
She gawked at him, part of her brain noting his desperation. He couldn’t manage with just one hand.
But she needed to run. Flee! Panic gripped her throat. Frenzied, she jerked her gaze to the slope above her. She had to climb up there and get away.
“We can’t outrun it,” he shouted. “It’s too fast. You have to-”
Thunder shook the air, drowning out what he wanted to say. She looked at him again, her breath puffing in frantic gasps, her mind completely blank.
His mouth was moving. His eyes beseeched her. He was pleading with her, begging her, but she couldn’t hear him, even from two feet away.
Then the fire burst through the trees and she screamed. It was here! Sucking and burning, boiling and streaming, billowing and swirling their way.
Oh, God. She had to run. She needed to leave, escape!
No! Her conscience stalled her. She had to stay and help Cade.
She pulled her gaze to his and saw his urgency, his need.
She let out a strangled sob. And no matter what, she couldn’t leave him. She’d abandoned him once before; she’d run away when her fears had swamped her, and she wouldn’t do it again.
God help her, but no matter what the cost, she wouldn’t quit on him this time.
Shaking wildly, fighting every instinct she had to bolt, she forced her feet not to move.
Her palms sweating, her heart quaking, she snagged the leash on her belt loop to keep the dog close, and somehow secured the buckle.
Then she lifted her gaze to Cade’s. She saw emotions flash through his eyes, relief and respect, and something else. Pride.
Her gaze locked on his, she reached out and grabbed a fusee.
Chapter 13
Her heart careening against her rib cage, her hands trembling harder than a leaf in a windstorm, Jordan ripped the tab off the fusee and yanked her gaze back to Cade. “What now?” she yelled.
She knew he couldn’t hear her. Behind them, the fire thundered like a screeching jet plane. But he jerked his head, indicating he’d understood. Moving quickly, he set down his flarelike fusees, grabbed one of the sticks he’d collected, then jammed it into the bottom of the fusee she held.
Understanding now, she helped cram the stick tighter into the flare. The stick extended the length of the fusee, serving as a primitive handle.
Her admiration surged. No wonder Cade had collected the sticks. He’d been preparing for this moment, watching for signs that the fire would blow up, planning ways they could survive.
Gratitude slashed through her fear, along with a swell of determination. Cade had done everything for her. Now she had to do her part. She couldn’t let him down.
The wind pushed smoke over their heads again. She coughed, the acrid taste scorching her lungs, and shot a frantic glance toward the crest of the hill. Thick, dark clouds mushroomed up from the fire and billowed toward them. Bright orange flames whipped high and flicked through the rolling smoke.
Her skin prickling, her heart quailing, she blocked out the horror and focused on Cade. He grabbed the tab from her hand and peeled back the paper, then struck it against the fusee. It sparked, made a hissing sound she sensed, rather than heard above the oncoming roar, and spewed out sulfury smoke.
He dropped the tab, grabbed the fusee, and held it down to the grass. The parched grass smoked, then flared, sending a vivid orange flame streaking uphill.
And suddenly, she understood. The main fire wouldn’t go through an area that had already burned. Deprived of new fuel, it would have to skirt around it. So if they burned off the grass and got inside it before the flame front reached them, maybe they could survive.
But did they have enough time? Her heart rocketing, she glanced at the fire again. The front charged toward them, streaming up through the parched pines, surging and pulsing, and exploding in piercing orange flames. Her nerves quaked, and she panted in shallow breaths. Oh, God. It was so fast, so big. How on earth could they beat it?
But they had to try. Frantic now, she kicked herself into action. She snatched another fusee from Cade’s pile, rammed a stick extension in it, pulled off the tab, and lit it. She spared another glance at the booming fire, shuddered, then grabbed the remaining fusees and ran after Cade.
She waved her arm to get his attention, and he motioned to his right. Jerking the leash to keep the dog moving, she rushed along and lit the baked grass. Her nerves hopping, steeling herself against the fear that threatened to freeze her, she tried to block out the horrible roar and concentrate on her job. Fanned by the wind, their small fire raced up the grassy slope, surrounding them in a sea of flames.
Beside her, the dog twisted and charged in terror, twining around her legs and blocking her path. She grabbed the leash and yanked him out of her way. She didn’t dare cut him loose; he could never outrun the fire. His only chance to survive was to stay with them.
Her panic building, struggling to control the dog and set the fire, she staggered alongside Cade. The strong sulfur smell of the fusees mixed with the acrid smoke, making her want to retch. She coughed and gagged, then blinked her stinging eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
The fire boomed, and the thundering behind her grew harsher. A sob wedged in her throat, and she lurched faster, desperate to pick up her pace.
Cade sprinted back just then, his eyes fierce. Moisture streaked down his gaunt cheeks, cutting a path through the grime. He pried his spent fusee off the stick with his boot, and reached for hers.
She traded with him, grabbing his empty stick in return. While he darted back to burn more grass, she lit another flare.
Suddenly, a huge swooshing noise pulsed behind her, and, terrified, she swiveled back. A wall of flames raced toward them, twisting high into shocking funnels. Flying embers flashed through the billowing smoke. The fire shot from the trees and exploded into the air.
Then firebrands rained around them, sparking more grass. Trembling wildly, unsure what to do, she wrenched her gaze back to Cade. She felt paralyzed, frantic, torn in a thousand directions. She had to move, get away from the fire, but she didn’t know where to go.
Cade turned toward her and yelled something, then motioned urgently with his arm. Understanding slashed through her hysteria. He wanted her to go up.
Terrified, praying to God that they could escape, she lunged forward and followed Cade across the charred grass. But then the dog abruptly stopped, and Jordan fell to her knees. She landed hard, singeing her palms and knees on the smoldering grass, and immediately surged to her feet. She jerked hard on the leash, but Dusty refused to budge.
Panicked, she yanked on the leash again, but the dog only hunkered down. A frenzy rose inside her. They had to run. The fire was nearly here!
A blast of hot wind swirled smoke from the blackened grass and into her face. Fueled by fear and adrenaline,
