Chapter 5
Cheyenne
Bright morning light peeked in through the curtains when I woke after a strange and deep sleep. The smell of smoke was still thick in the air. I could smell it everywhere—on my bedsheets, my clothes, and my skin. It was still there.
Hot grief rolled in waves over me. The sights, smells, and sounds from the night before flashed before me—the barn ablaze with blue and orange flames, the smell of burned timbers, the terrified look in the eyes of the horses, the sounds, those horrible sounds. And Colt, pulling me from the barn before it all gave way and quietly taking care of things as I sat there numbly, unable to move. It was all too much to think about, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing those horrible images to go away.
The house was silent. It was quiet outside, too. I had no idea if Colt was still even around. I last saw him when he came in and told me to go to bed. I couldn’t even bear to look at the barn after the fire department had shown up. There wasn’t anything left to see besides wet and charred wood.
My hands throbbed from being curled in fists all night. I sat up with a hiss to look down at them, the gauze pads soaked from the oozing blisters. Dark smudges covered my bed sheets. I would have to wash everything later, and it was a good enough excuse to avoid going outside. Except I needed to feed the horses, plus they needed water. They needed comfort too. They weren’t the only ones.
Tears flooded my eyes. What was I going to do now? My parents would be furious to know the little money I had saved up was gone. Up in smoke within a matter of minutes. They would demand justice, and they’d drive down here in a heartbeat to tell me it was all some stupid dream of mine. I could just hear it. “Oh, Cheyenne. You’re just so sensitive. If you could save the whole world, you would do it.”
I had nothing left now that the sanctuary barn was gone, and my gut blamed it on Bill Coates. That sense of dread had followed me for the past two days. This isn’t over.
I cinched the belt of the robe securely around my waist before stripping the bed down. Ignoring the pain that shot up through my hands, I bundled everything together to throw it into the laundry room downstairs. I had reached the bottom stairs when the sound of snoring caught me off guard. Passed out on my living room couch, with his long legs propped up on my coffee table in front of him, Colt was fast asleep.
The pit of my stomach did that flutter thing again as I lingered on the bottom step, well aware of the fact that I had soot on my skin and unwashed hair. Go figure that a man like Colt would see me at my worst. My eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying all night, but Colt was also the reason I felt this way. In that moment of clarity, I realized I was alive because of him.
I set the pile of soot-covered bed sheets and blankets on the ground next to the stairs. Colt’s chiseled face was utterly peaceful and relaxed, his blond hair a tousled mess. His cowboy hat was perched on the couch cushions next to him. Though he slept, his muscles were coiled and taut, ready for action at a moment’s notice. Rushing into the fire hadn’t even phased him. He was just as fearless as his sister.
And so handsome. Damn. My cheeks burned at the direction of my thoughts. Any woman would kill to wake up with Colt asleep on their couch clutching his gun—ready, willing, and oh so able to protect them at any sign of danger.
A rush of heat crashed over me, making my skin feel tight against my bones. It’d been too long since I had last felt the touch of a man, and my body craved that comfort.
The sound of my phone ringing from the kitchen startled the both of us. Colt jerked awake, his fingers curling tighter around his gun. His eyes immediately shot to where I stood at the base of the stairs.
“You better get that,” he said, his voice husky with sleep. “It’s probably Tiffany wondering if you’re okay. Everyone in Green Point probably knows about the fire by now. Maybe even your parents.”
I tightened the belt of my robe nervously. “It’s probably Tiffany. My parents wouldn’t have any idea about it unless I told them.”
Colt gave me a strange look as I rushed out of the living room to answer the phone ringing madly on the wall. “I’m fine, Tif. I’m not hurt, I promise.”
“Thank God. I was so worried when I heard. How bad is it?”
“Bad,” I told her, tears filling my eyes. “I can’t even look at it, Tif. The stallion—he’s gone. I couldn’t get him out of the stall, and then it all crashed in.”
Tiffany breathed sharply into the phone. “Oh, honey. I’m coming over to help you. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Your brother is here,” I said. “He was the one who woke me. He pulled me out of the barn last night before it collapsed. If he hadn’t come, we—we would’ve lost everyone, Tif. And maybe me too.”
“What have I been telling you, huh? My brother is a good man to have around! Tell him I’ll bring him some fresh clothes.”
I hung the phone up and started a pot of coffee. The sound of boots thumping against the floorboards drew my attention to Colt entering the kitchen. His expression was grave when he looked out the kitchen window. I turned away to hide the tears in my eyes when he glanced over at me with one hand resting above the window.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” I asked, my voice quivering. “I know it’s bad, but I’ve been scared to look.”
“There’s nothing left, Cheyenne. I’m sorry.”
I sucked in a wavering breath. “Are the rest of the horses okay?”
“I was able to put them into a pasture last night, figuring nothing would settle them down more than to be able to graze on some good grass,” Colt said. “It was dark of course, but it didn’t look like they were burned or hurt. They were spooked badly of course, but they are happy to be grazing in the pasture. We’ll want to check them over in the light of day though, and probably tie up the ones we can handle and see if we can repair or rig up some paddocks today. You’re not going to want to leave all of them in that pasture.”
“I don’t have any oats or hay for them. Everything was in the barn. All my tack and—”
“I’ll take care of all that for you,” Colt interrupted, as I turned around to give him a surprised look. “I’m serious. I’ll donate supplies if you’re protesting about me buying anything. We have more than enough at the ranch.”
“Are you sure?”
He gave an affirmative nod. A surge of gratitude flowed through me, and I would have hugged him on the spot if his phone hadn’t started ringing. Colt glanced down at it in annoyance before giving me an apologetic smile.
“Excuse me. I’ve got to take this call real quick.”
I nodded. The front door opened a second later before Colt’s muffled voice cut through the morning. I glanced up at the clock above the stove: two minutes until ten. This was the first time in years, and certainly since owning the sanctuary, that I had ever slept in. Despite the pain in my hands and my heart, I had been able to sleep deeply, even though the remnants of the barn smoldered beside me. The knowledge that he was there had somehow allowed me to get restorative sleep.
Since Colt was occupied, I took advantage of the interruption to rush upstairs to shower. I let the hot water splash over my skin and ignored the pain in my hands. The skin beneath the gauze pads was bright red and raw when I peeled everything away, skin included. I washed every inch of my skin, watching the black water and soap bubbles swirl around the shower drain, before slipping into a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved sweater.
Colt was still outside on the phone near his truck when I glanced out the living room window. His .9mm was now holstered on his hip, and he adjusted his hat on top of his head. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have a man like Colt around. For more reasons than one.
I pushed that last wicked thought away. He was just looking out for me because I was close friends with his sister. From all I had heard, their parents had been kind and compassionate people. Their children were no different.
Grabbing the phone from the wall, I stared down at the numbers for a time. I had to call my parents to tell them what had happened. My grants would be terminated now that I didn’t have the proper place and materials to care for the horses. All the documentation for the previous adoptions was gone too, plus I was already behind on the mortgage for my house. This fire was just a cherry on top of an already shitty situation.
“A fire? What do you mean there was a fire?” my mother asked, aghast after I dialed their number to tell them what had happened. “How did it start?”
“I don’t know, Mom. It was in the middle of the night.”
“Something doesn’t sound right about this, honey. Doing this work puts you at odds with some bad people. Do you think someone could have started it on purpose? Did someone light your barn on fire?”
A headache pounded hard in my temples. “To be honest, Mom. Yes. I think it was a man that confronted me two days ago. The stallion he wanted back had been abused and mistreated. The local vet told me of other things he had seen from this man. I called PETA and asked that he open an investigation.”
“It sounds like he had something to do with it,” she said. “I’m telling your father about this as soon as he gets back home. Do you need us to come out there?”
“Cheyenne.”
I turned around to find Colt standing in the kitchen, phone in hand. He smiled apologetically when I jumped.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, or interrupt,” he said. “I can see the sheriff coming down the road. I’m hoping that it’ll be Paul.”
“Who is Paul?” I asked.
“A friend of mine who is trying to fight against the influence Bill Coates has on this town,” Colt replied and turned to go back into the living room.
“I have to go, Mom. The sheriff is driving up.”
“Who was that man talking in the background?”
I rolled my eyes at the question. Of course that was the one thing my mother was most curious about. Honestly.
“I’ll call you later,” I said, avoiding the question. “Call my cell if you don’t get me on the landline.”
I quickly hung up before she could say anything else. Colt was standing at the front window with his arms crossed over his chest.
“It’s Robert Jones,” he said tersely. “I should’ve known it’d be him because I said something about Bill Coates.”
“He’s the one who’s friends with Bill?”
“Closer than blood. Try to keep your cool.”
Keeping cool turned out to be harder when the older man stepped into my living room, nodding at Colt in acknowledgment before assessing me with critical eyes. He didn’t look to be in great shape to be a sheriff either, based on his hanging gut.
“It’s good to see you both are getting close here,” Robert said as he shot Colt a sly look. “I should’ve known one martyr would save another martyr.”
“It’s what I do,” Colt replied coolly. “What did the fire marshal tell you?”
Robert hooked his thumbs on his belt loop as he turned his gaze to me. “They reported gas cans near the barn when they arrived.”
“It wasn’t me who did it,” I said immediately. “Why would I keep gas next to my barn?”
“It was just a simple question,” he said, and the tone of his voice grated on me. “They are investigating the cause of the fire. However, I am certain it won’t be easy given that Cheyenne has created some enemies here in Green Point and the surrounding areas.”
My jaw dropped open.
“Enemies? For rescuing abused animals?”
“Yes, enemies,” Robert said steadily. “Do you have any idea who could’ve done this other than Bill Coates?”
“It was him,” I spit out through clenched teeth. “He barged in here two days ago about his horse, mad because I refused to give it back.”
“Where is this horse at?”
To my horror, hot tears flooded my eyes again. Strong and calloused fingers touched my shoulder, and I looked up at Colt, whose gaze was fixated pointedly on Robert.
“The stallion perished in the fire,” Colt said. “We couldn’t get him out of the stall. He was too afraid to move.”
Robert frowned.
“I know Mr. Coates, personally. He wouldn’t have started a fire with the intent to kill his own horse. Who would do that?” I opened my mouth to reply, but Robert held his hand up. “Rest assured, there is an investigation underway. We’ll get to the bottom of this. I just wanted to make sure that you both were okay.”
Colt’s fingers tightened on my shoulder. It took all my strength to not lean into his strong and tall body, to absorb some of his strength instead of using my own for once.
“We’re fine,” Colt said. “Just do an investigation, Robert. You and I both know who is at the top of the list.”
The edges of Robert’s lips twitched as he adjusted his hat. He nodded once at me before opening the front door, pausing to look at us both.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said. “Call me if you hear anything that needs to be looked into.”
Colt let go of my shoulder the second the front door closed. He peered out the window before turning to look at me.
“Bastard,” he said flatly, adjusting his hat and running a hand through his hair. “The guy is a piece of shit. I hate dealing with him, yet he always manages to get voted back in somehow.”
Light-headed, I sat down on the edge of the couch and ran a hand through the damp strands of my hair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I mumbled, relishing the soft silkiness of my hair. “What am I going to do?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Colt said. He was in front of me then, crouching lithely on the heels of his feet as he gently held my hands in his own. A jolt went through me at the simple but assuring touch of his strong fingers around mine. “Green Point takes care of everyone, and I’ll help you with whatever I can.”
My eyes slipped closed because I didn’t want Colt to read any of the emotions there. I was just grateful he was there—even if we were complete strangers. He had risked his life last night and was still here vowing to help me.
“Thank you,” I whispered.