“I’m sorry,” she said in a quavering voice. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. It’s just that when I saw the picture with you and your mama and Sam Sweeney, I assumed . . . my mama always says, ‘To assume anything only makes an ass out of you and me.’ Although I’m the only ass here. You didn’t do anything but keep a little ol’ secret. And I understand perfectly why you did.” Tears leaked from her eyes. “You didn’t want to remember a man who had been so awful to you and hurt your mama so badly.” She sniffed. “It just breaks my—” A strange look entered her eyes as she stared at something over his head. “Is that smoke?”
He turned to see a plume of gray smoke rising into the sky. It was a fair distance away, so it looked small, but he knew whatever was burning wasn’t a few little weeds.
Without saying a word, he hopped into his truck, and Dixie didn’t hesitate to follow him and get in the passenger side. She used her cellphone to call for the fire department while he pulled out of the parking lot with his siren blaring and his dash light flashing. Once she hung up, they both looked out the windshield and tried to figure out where the smoke was coming from. It wasn’t until he turned off the highway that he was able to pinpoint it.
“It’s the Lucky Lane Trailer Park.”
Chapter Thirteen
Dixie felt a like she was going to pass out or throw up as she stared at the smoke billowing up into the sky. “Oh my God. Cheyenne and Maisy.”
He glanced over at her. “I’m sure they’re fine. In fact, they’re probably not even there. I heard that Maisy is helping with spring branding at the Gardener Ranch and Cheyenne will be at school.”
“No she’s not. She didn’t feel good today, so she stayed home from school. I dropped by this morning to bring her soup. And since her daddy went into Abilene for auto parts, I left Queenie there to keep her company.” She wanted to tell Lincoln to go faster, but he was already going over ninety on the dirt road. She glanced behind her at the dust being kicked up by the truck tires. “Where are the fire trucks? Shouldn’t they be coming behind us by now?”
“Simple’s fire department is volunteer, so they take a little longer than in a big city.” Lincoln reached across the console and squeezed her arm. “It’s okay. It’s probably not even a trailer. It’s probably some old tires that some delinquent kid set on fire. Burning rubber causes a lot of smoke.”
But when they pulled inside the trailer park, it wasn’t burning tires. It was the Dailys’ trailer. Most of the flames had burned out and only a blackened, smoking shell was left that the neighbors were dousing with water from their garden hoses. The sight made Dixie feel more than a little panicked. Before Lincoln even came to a complete stop, she jumped out of the truck and started searching for Cheyenne.
“Cheyenne,” she yelled as she moved through the crowd. “Cheyenne!”
“I’m here.” Cheyenne appeared from around the side of the trailer. Despite a bad case of bedhead, flushed cheeks, and rumpled pajamas, she looked just fine. Dixie ran to her and enfolded her in a tight hug. “I was so worried, honey! Are you okay?”
“I was, but now my ribs might be broken.”
Dixie released her. “Sorry, I’m just glad you’re safe. What happened?”
“I don’t know. I was sitting watching television with Queenie when I saw someone pass by the front window. I thought it was Dad and that he’d come back early to check on me. But when I peeked out the window, I didn’t see his truck. So I figured it was someone from the trailer park walking by. A few minutes later, I smelled smoke. When I couldn’t find anything inside, I went outside and saw that the side of the trailer was on fire.”
Dixie wasn’t sure she believed her. As a kid, Dixie had told more than one lie when she’d messed up and didn’t want to get in trouble. Once, Dixie and her friend had made a blowtorch with Winona’s hairspray and caught the gardener’s shed on fire. A kid stunt like that made more sense than someone purposely setting the trailer on fire. But Cheyenne looked so distraught that Dixie didn’t push it.
“Well, we’ll figure it all out later.” She glanced around. “Where’s Queenie?”
Cheyenne’s face fell. “That’s another problem.” When Dixie looked back at the trailer with wide eyes, Cheyenne shook her head. “No, she’s okay. Well, sorta. She got a little excited when everyone came out and started shouting and turning on their hoses. She jumped out of my arms and ran up a tree.”
Dixie followed Cheyenne’s gaze to the huge oak tree. There was her cat sitting on one of the top branches. Dixie wasn’t too concerned. It wasn’t like Queenie hadn’t climbed a tree before—at least, she wasn’t concerned until she noticed the tree was on fire. Two of the branches that hung over the trailer were smoldering. Cheyenne must have noticed it at the same time because they both yelled the cat’s name and raced to the tree.
“Get down, Queenie,” Dixie yelled up at the cat. “I mean it. Get down right now, you ornery cat, or you’ll get no tuna with supper tonight.” But Queenie didn’t even look at her.
“I’m so sorry, Dixie,” Cheyenne said. “I didn’t realize the tree was on fire. I’ll climb up and get her.”
“You’ll do no such a thing. I’ll go.” Dixie grabbed a low-hanging branch. But before she could pull herself up, strong arms encircled her waist and set her back on the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” Lincoln asked.
“I’m getting my cat out of a burning tree.”
He glanced up and heaved an exasperated sigh. He released her and yelled at the neighbors. “Get some water on this
