hope, if you were out in the fields.”
“No,” Jeremiah said. “Praise the Lord. That’s where all of us are—forming a line between the fire and fields and the rest of the ranch. We haven’t lost any animals or structures.” He looked past Bishop. “If it gets to the houses over there….” He trailed off, but Bishop heard the regret and agony laced in his voice.
“They’ll make sure it doesn’t,” he said to reassure Jeremiah. He turned back to Wade, who was just now lifting the drone into the air. “Maybe you should dump that on the other side of the road, other side of the fire. Keep it from burning down the road toward the houses there.”
Wade nodded, and he raised the drone into the air. Bishop moved over to the truck and transferred the bags of retardant he’d brought to the Rhinehart’s truck. He called Cactus and told him the fire had jumped the road, and they needed eyes on their northeast borders to make sure the fire didn’t burn onto their land.
He finished a phone call with Ward, who’d been on his way down but turned back when Bishop said there wasn’t much to do down here.
He’d just sighed when Montana came marching toward him. She wore a look of fury on her face, and Bishop paused. She was absolutely stunning with that fire blazing from her eyes. The red and orange flames had made the normally-blue hue in them seem navy and purple, and Bishop waited for her to come closer.
She had a storm preceding her, and he felt her energy ram into him and flow over and around him for a few steps until she arrived. “They’re saying the road is going to be closed for hours now.”
“I’ll bet,” he said.
“I can’t stay on this side of the line,” she said. “I have to—I have—” She glanced at Jeremiah, her distaste growing. Bishop looked at him too, and if he felt the animosity Montana Martin had for him, he didn’t show it. Perhaps he didn’t care.
Bishop assumed he was simply overwhelmed with that evening’s events, and he met Montana’s eyes. “We have plenty of room at Shiloh Ridge. My cousin’s suite is empty.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “There has to be another way back to Three Rivers.”
“If you go all the way down to Pampa, you can come back north on the fifty-seven,” Jeremiah said. “A couple of turns, and you get to the forty-two, which comes in on the east side. It’s probably over two hours.”
“You can’t drive for two hours tonight,” Bishop said. “It’s really fine. There are tons of bedrooms at Shiloh Ridge.” He didn’t understand the panic pouring from her. She was like a sieve, though; he could feel everything she did.
“I’m not worried about a bedroom,” she said, her teeth clenched. She turned her back on Jeremiah and took a few steps away. Bishop went with her, his curiosity rising with every breath he took.
He put his hand on her lower back and pressed in close to her. He wished he was doing so only a moment before whispering something sweet and flirty in her ear, but he’d have to save that for another time.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
She shook her head, a long sigh coming out of her mouth. “You’re going to find out anyway.”
Bishop just waited, his mind whirring. Maybe the source of her anxiety was the same reason she’d have odd hours on the job.
Montana tilted her head and looked up at him. Oh, she was close, and she somehow smelled like something he wanted in his life, despite the ash and smoke and flames. The heat flowing through him wasn’t all from the fire now burning on both sides of the highway.
“I have a daughter I need to get home to.”
“Oh,” Bishop said, surprised but not to the point where he needed to freak out. He’d dated single moms before. “You don’t have a neighbor or someone you can call?”
“I don’t need to,” Montana said. “We live with my aunt and uncle.” She dropped her chin toward her chest then, and Bishop slipped his hand along her waist and into hers.
He didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet. This was a new skill he’d started working on in the past couple of months. He’d lived most of his life trying to get his voice heard. As the youngest in a large, loud family, he’d had to fight for his opinion to matter.
As