High-Stakes Inheritance. Susan Sleeman
her for causing the crash that took her mother’s life.
“Mia, will you promise not to tell?” Jessie tugged on Mia’s arm, bringing her back.
Mia wanted to give this poor motherless child anything she asked for, but she couldn’t. “I don’t need to tell anyone, Jessie. They already know you were in the barn, or you wouldn’t be in here with me.”
“I could say I came in to save you.”
Mia’s counseling instincts shot into action. Jessie was hiding something. Her pained expression conveyed there was much more at stake than her father learning she’d been somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.
“What’s this really about?” Mia clasped Jessie’s miniature hands.
She shook them free, and her eyes took on a defiant tightness. “I’m sorry about the barn, okay? I didn’t do anything bad. I didn’t start the fire. I was just reading. Wally used to let me read in the barn whenever I wanted to.”
“I don’t think the fire was your fault. It must have been an accident. Maybe electrical.”
“Uh-uh. A man started it.”
“What?”
Jessie trembled. “A really big man drove a truck into the barn. He got out and poured something stinky on the hay. Then he threw matches on it. He said, ‘This ought to scare her.’ Then he laughed and left.” Her eyes scrunched as she rubbed her hands together. “Do you think he meant me? To scare me?”
He didn’t mean Jessie. He meant Mia. This was what the letter warned her about. But who was this man? Had her father hired him? Or perhaps the letter wasn’t from her father after all?
“Jessie,” Ryan called from the open doors. “Are you sure that’s what you saw?”
“Uncle Ryan.” Jessie’s voice held relief. She hopped up and moved slowly toward the back. “Honest, that’s what I saw. You’re not mad that I was in the barn?” She peered at Ryan until his face broke in a warm smile, and he beckoned her closer with his finger. She charged into his arms.
Mia sat up, and her eyes connected with Ryan’s troubled expression. He pulled Jessie tighter and stared at Mia with the implication of Jessie’s words stamped on his face.
The fire was no accident.
Still dressed in his turnouts, Ryan sat on the bench running the length of the ambulance. Even with his boots firmly planted on the floor, he bounced on the seat from the rhythmic beat of the tires spinning over rough pavement. The space was tight, but Jessie had begged him to ride with her to the hospital. Dupree had succumbed to Jessie’s pleas and she’d moved things around to accommodate the four of them.
Jessie rested on his lap, reclining back with her head crooked in his arm. He stroked her sooty hair. He’d do anything to distract her from the residual terror in her eyes. Her emotional state was tenuous at best.
Then there was Mia.
He raised his head and subtly checked her out. She’d closed her expressive eyes and breathed through the oxygen mask. He let his eyes linger on the uncharacteristically quiet woman. What a brave front she displayed for Jessie. She kept it together, but the creases in her forehead exposed her internal pain.
The EMT said Mia should physically recover after a short course of oxygen. She was lucky. She’d lived when others died. He’d dragged her from a near death. From searing flames.
He let out a shaky breath and raised his head.
Thank you, Lord for sparing Mia’s life.
But was she out of danger?
Had the fire merely been the first of a chain of events that would escalate until she left Pinetree or was killed for staying? How could she refuse to seek Russ’s help, and forbid Ryan from doing so?
Especially after Jessie confirmed the fire was an act of arson.
He had to find a way to get Mia to talk to Russ before the danger he was certain lurked around the corner caught up with her.
Mia felt the warmth of Ryan’s gaze, and she wanted to open her eyes to see what his face might reveal about his thoughts. But she wouldn’t look, couldn’t look, in case she saw the same horrified expression that had consumed his face when Jessie confirmed the fire was set on purpose. If she did, her fear would ratchet up to an unbearable level.
A stranger wanted her gone.
But who and why? The only logical explanation was that her father didn’t want to get his hands dirty so he hired the baldheaded guy to torch the barn.
He was going to extreme lengths to get her to leave Pinetree, but as much as she was afraid of what might happen if she stayed, she wasn’t going home. She owed it to Uncle Wally—the only man who truly loved her—to fulfill his last wishes.
Yes, she would stay in Logan Lake even though staying meant living near the man whose eyes were burrowing into her right now. Not just any man. Ryan. Her one-time protector. The man who made her feel safe again as he carried her securely from the barn. His strength almost let her believe he could make this horrible day go away. That she would be okay.
His phone pealed, and she flashed open her eyes, catching his tender gaze fixed on her. She felt her cheeks flush and a warmth spread through her body.
“It’s the ringtone for work, and I have to take the call.” He smiled wide revealing teeth that hadn’t needed any dental assistance to be perfect. He’d often used this cute little grin when she’d glanced up and caught appreciative looks from him in the past.
As he pulled the phone free, she closed her eyes again. He may have saved her life, but he was still a man and like all men, he’d hurt her once. He’d do the same thing again if she gave him a chance.
As Ryan had expected, caller ID identified Ian Davis, his assistant at Wilderness Ways. Ryan was the director of the outdoor counseling program for wayward teens, and no matter the turmoil in his life, responsibility for the students dictated he answer.
He clicked Talk. “Ian, what’s up?”
“We have a problem.” Ian’s serious tone set Ryan on edge. “Paul just called. His mother slipped into a coma this morning, and he won’t make the first week of the program, if he comes at all.”
Man. This was all Ryan needed. With the drop in funding, he’d already had to cut one staff member, and up the ratio of students to counselor. One less counselor and the kids had a better chance of ending up back in juvie than working through their issues, ultimately dooming this pilot program for juvenile offenders.
Not wanting to increase the anxiety level cutting through the ambulance, Ryan fought to keep the turmoil out of his voice. “How’s Paul holding up?”
“Says he’s okay, but you know, man. He’s hurting.”
“Make sure he knows we’ll pray for him.”
“Already done.” A breathy intake of air and long exhale followed the clipped words. “We have to figure out what to do. There’s no way we can function being down another counselor.”
“You have any ideas?” Ryan asked.
“One, but I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.”
Ryan tucked the phone under his chin and used his free hand to massage a tight muscle in his neck. “Tell me about it. Doesn’t matter if I don’t like it.”
“Okay, but hear me out before you shoot me down.” Ian paused as if he thought Ryan might object.
Ryan would consider anything if it helped the kids. “Go on.”
“The other day when we were talking about that Mia chick taking over Pinetree, you said she was a counselor. I know there’s some sort of history between the two of you, but you could ask her to fill in until Paul gets here.”