“Miss Linx, Miss Linx!” a small voice shouted at Linx as she wheeled her grocery cart out of the general store.

Jessie ran up to her with her mother, Jean Patterson, in tow. “I told Mama you have superpowers, but she says we have to pray to God. God has bigger powers than you.”

Linx knelt down to Jessie’s level and hugged her. “Your mother’s right. God has superpowers.”

“But I did pray to God, and Betsy’s still lost.” Jessie’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“We’re trying our best to find her.” Linx stroked the little girl’s silky hair. “I put up a reward, and Betsy’s on our website.”

“Right next to the puppy!” Jessie’s eyes brightened. “Mama says we can get a puppy.”

“Only if we don’t find Betsy,” Mrs. Patterson cut in, giving Jessie an indulgent look.

“We’ll find Betsy,” Linx reassured. “We have posters everywhere. I’m sure some nice person will find her and bring her back.”

The odds were against Betsy ever being found, but Linx had to keep the child hoping. There was nothing worse than the “not knowing.” At least no one had reported a dog hit by a car who looked like Betsy.

“If I get the puppy, then will Betsy be lost forever?” Jessie’s eyebrows twisted and she looked like she was trying to solve a difficult puzzle.

Linx glanced at the girl’s mother for guidance. She didn’t want to set any expectations, and besides, she didn’t think getting a puppy should be tied to whether Betsy was lost or found.

“Let’s not bother Miss Linx,” Mrs. Patterson said to her daughter. “She has to go home and feed her dogs. See that big bag of dog food she has?”

“Okay, bye, Miss Linx.” Jessie dutifully waved her hand the way small children did by wiggling her fingers.

“Bye, Jessie,” Linx said. “I’ll send out another search party for Betsy today—ask around the campsite. Maybe someone saw her.”

After Jessie turned toward the store, Mrs. Patterson whispered to Linx. “Don’t get her hopes up. Betsy’s been missing over a week. I’m trying to get her to accept another puppy.”

“It’s too soon,” Linx said. “She needs closure for Betsy.”

“I understand, but I’m wondering if Jessie can come by the rescue center and get acquainted with the other dogs. I heard your brother found a basset hound with puppies.”

“Sure, I’d love to have her volunteer.” Linx’s heart leaped and a smile broke on her face. “I can teach her how to take care of a dog.”

“Great. I have to prepare for Vacation Bible School, and you know how it is at her age. Jessie’s always asking me questions, and I can’t get my work done. How about twice a week to start with?”

“Bring her by any time.”

Linx drove back to the center in high spirits, but when she opened the door, the uneasiness she’d woken up with returned.

“Cedar, Ginger,” she called. “I’m home.”

Instead of coming to the door and greeting her, Cedar lay on the sofa and looked out the window. Her nose parted the curtain as if she were a woman pacing on a widow’s walk watching and waiting for her seafaring husband to return.

She wagged her tail weakly as Ginger made small noises from a playpen Linx got from the thrift shop.

“You miss him, don’t you?” Linx rubbed her dog’s back. “So do I, but at least he loves you—if he remembers you.”

Cedar had been moping around the cabin ever since the morning Grady had shown up and teased her, tapping on the door.

What kind of unfeeling monster would take a beloved pet away from its owner?

Someone like her, obviously.

Keeping a lost dog was all kinds of wrong when the owner still held out hope for it. It was only a step away from kidnapping.

Linx wanted to punch herself for being that kind of unforgivable person. Story of her life. She acted out of anger and never considered the other person’s point of view. Except Grady hadn’t truly looked for his dog.

That was the only shred of an excuse she had, so she clung to it. He was so eager to disappear from her life that he’d never visited her rescue center or emailed her about Cedar.

Now that he was putting roots in this town, her excuses had run out.

Why was she holding onto Cedar?

It wasn’t as if she could bring the past back—the times when she and Grady would snuggle in his cabin with Sasha lying on the rug in front of the fire. Times she’d imagined were happy. Only, she’d built a lie around herself, feathered it with childish stories about charming knights and white picket fences. Swing sets and playpens, playing baseball and hopscotch. Summer barbecues and winter snowmen.

Both she and Grady thrived on adrenaline and the rush of firefighting, but what they had that fire season wasn’t based on anything other than lust and thrills.

He was over her as soon as the season ended, but she couldn’t deal with rejection. She never dealt well with rejection. Who did?

She hadn’t even realized she was pregnant—at first, because she continued her harsh physical workout during the off season. Her body adjusted to working out hard and her periods became irregular, so she’d lost track until the pressure inside of her was too big to ignore.

It was Salem who’d first suspected Linx was pregnant, and she’d made her buy a pregnancy test. Salem had been injured during rookie training. After she recovered, she’d rented a room in town and was Linx’s training partner. They worked out together and she pumped Linx for information about every detail of her season and was determined to try again.

Now, Salem was dead. It had to have been a freak accident. The wind could change on a dime and the fire itself created its own weather. One errant gust was all it took to push the parachute the wrong way.

As for Grady and Salem.

Saying their names together was like licking the bitter dregs on the bottom of a moldy cup of coffee.

She had no claim to Grady, and if it were true that Salem’s baby was Grady’s, it could explain why Grady gave up smokejumping.

Linx never wanted to pity Grady, and he would be upset if he ever detected a whiff of pity from her, but truly, Grady had sorrows she knew nothing about.

Keeping Cedar was the least of it.

“I’m so, so sorry I kept you from him.” She buried her face in Cedar’s mane to hide her suddenly wet eyes. “Even though it’ll break my heart, I have to let you go.”

* * *

Grady woke with a start and shot up from his trailer bed perched over the fifth wheel. He was back at his property and an unsettled feeling ate at his gut.

The night was pitch black and quiet—too quiet.

He fought a chill from jiggling down his back and pushed aside the curtain on the side toward the building site. He’d taken delivery of the rocks for the foundation and the logs for the walls of the cabin.

The digging had been hard work, but he had nothing else to do. There had been no leads to the arson at his parents’ property, and he’d spent the last few days helping with the cleanup.

Grady pulled the curtain shut and turned onto his side, closing his eyes. He could still see his small cabin the way it was. It was the last place he’d seen Sasha, the last place he’d felt like a whole man, the last place he’d made love—with Linx Colson, before she’d turned into a raging lunatic.

How had it gone so wrong?

Sure, she was a temptress, and she’d hoped to use his influence as drill instructor to go easy on her. She’d been disappointed when he gave her the hardest time, but she’d surprised him by passing—despite the rope burns, the tangled chutes, and the hard landings.

Then she went nuts.

She’d expected him to change his plans after that first fire season—assumed too much. She’d followed him to the airport, begging him to let her either come along or to stay home with him for the winter.

Five whole freaking months later, she pulled the pregnancy stunt.

Like she had to wait that long before figuring it out?

That was when he’d blown up—screamed at her over the phone and told her in no uncertain terms that she was not to contact him again.

She’d gone stoic on him and promised he would never hear from her—and she’d done exactly that.

Around her supposed due date, he’d called her once to check up on her. Asked her about the baby, and she’d denied everything—accused him of getting her confused with some other woman.

I was never pregnant. You must have dreamed it up. I never threatened to sue you. You’re nuts, Grady. It wasn’t me you knocked up.

And that was that. Except for the telltale quaver in her voice, she’d played her innocent role well.

So, why was it now so important for him to stay away from the Mountain Dog Rescue?

She wasn’t hiding a baby there, was she?

He groaned as the pieces snapped together.

Big brother Todd turning overprotective meant there might have been smoke.

Where there was smoke, there was fire—the possibility she’d actually been pregnant and her family believed it was his.

Heck, she must have believed the baby was his, because otherwise, why all the drama? There was no baby now. No lawsuit. No threat of harassment, especially since he was no longer on a fire crew this season.

He sat up too fast, hitting his head on the canopy above him.

Damn. That was the only thing that made sense.

If she was pregnant, then she’d gotten rid of the baby—a late term abortion. His baby. Killed.

Unless she hid him or her at the dog rescue center.

With the noise of dogs barking, no one would hear a baby cry.

Crap. Was he dumb? His kid would be almost six by now. It wasn’t a baby he should look for, but a little boy or girl.

Grady flicked on the flashlight he kept near his bed and pulled on his clothes. He couldn’t sleep anyway, so he got dressed and got into his truck.

As his truck bumped its way down the dark, rutted dirt road, Grady couldn’t help the guilt swarming through his gut.

If he’d listened to her and came home, if he’d gone with her to the doctor and verified her pregnancy, then waited for a DNA test, she wouldn’t have killed the baby—or hopefully, hidden it.

His eyes blurred, and he yanked his steering wheel hard, barely avoiding a tree.

And if it had all been a fake, he would have known also and been able to rest easy. Why hadn’t he followed up?

Dawn broke over the eastern sky as Grady pulled into town. The little town of Colson’s Corner was nestled in a small river valley between two parallel ridges of granite. A river ran through the center of the town, forded by a steel bridge.

Grady pulled out his cell phone and stared at Linx’s last text message.

We need to talk.

Four words from Linx that could mean everything and nothing.

His heart thudded like the thunder following dry lightning strikes—the kind that ignited forest fires. Was Linx going to finally fess up, and if she did, would he believe her?

His gut twisted and he wondered if he’d been too hard on her. She had been a nineteen-year-old who acted a whole lot older. She’d worked her way up the fire crews until she nabbed a smokejumping training spot.

The woman was fearless and wild, and she carried her load without complaint. She’d wielded the saw, swung her Pulaski, and did her fair share of mop-up duty. Other than her bad temper, “Short Fuse” was an asset to the team, and she never cut corners—unlike Salem who was careless with her equipment and depended on her jump partners to double-check her chute and rigging.

Grady turned the corner and barreled up the dirt road leading to the Mountain Dog Rescue Center. The only reason Linx wouldn’t allow him inside her cabin, despite being so turned on she could have combusted on the spot, was because she was hiding something—most likely his child.

This time, he wasn’t leaving until he got what he came for.

He slid to a stop in front of the cabin, and his heart threaded into his throat.

Linx’s SUV was gone.