Deke and Fort parked their trucks a half mile past the cabin into the deep woods and hiked their way in, Deke splitting off to go toward the creek and railroad tracks.

Large thunderheads rolled across the sky, making the midday hour feel more like evening. Fort guessed the temperature dropped at least ten degrees. If he was to take the dark sky as an indication of how today was going to go, he'd cancel. Stay home with Cori, doing easy things like feeding the horses or changing out salt blocks. His gut was the second indicator that today was going to bring trouble. Like he'd known a building in Afghanistan was rigged, he knew this day would bring bad shit.

He picked his way around the cabin, looking for signs of people moving about, coming or going. Fort stopped and waited every few feet, being as still as the woodland animals, which was another bad sign. The wind whipped the tree branches around in all directions but the birds and animals were quiet.

The plan was for Fort to approach the cabin and confront the guys for illegally using the place. Force them into action. Last night, Fort had read Tinsdale in on the situation, and the sheriff had contacted neighboring county sheriffs. Deputies were strategically placed on all roads out of Wolf Creek in hopes of catching these guys red-handed.

Deke texted. 6 head down by creek. No tags or brands.

The question to ask was if someone was bringing more heads as Deke and Fort waited, or was this the haul and tonight they would load it on the train?

Fort hunkered down next to an evergreen, hoping the branches would provide some relief from the impending rain. He glanced at the sky. He needed the rain to hold until these guys made their move. Twenty yards in front of him was the cabin. Parked beside it was the same beat-up white and blue truck Witty and Brody had been seen in. Inside, he could see a shadow moving around. Fort guessed they were using candles based on how the light flickered. It was too difficult to tell if there were one or two people inside.

All he needed was the go-ahead from Tinsdale before he could make his move. He checked his phone often, fearing he might miss a message since he'd put it in silent mode.

Thunder shook the earth, and Fort counted between the sound and the flash of lightning. Two seconds. The storm was upon them. He stood, moved so he was positioned facing the door, and pressed himself against a tree, hidden in the shadows. He supposed that was a silver lining from the storm.

He was given the go-ahead by Tinsdale and stepped out of the woods.

He walked briskly to the cabin. He was ready for this to be over. He banged on the door with the side of his fist. “Sheriff's Department,” he called out.

He heard someone swear inside.

He went to bang on the door a second time when thunder boomed so close Fort thought it might be on top of him. Immediately following was a loud crack, much like the sound of a shotgun discharging, and Fort hit the ground.

Someone inside the cabin yelled.

The small hairs on Fort’s neck and arms stood on end. The ground trembled beneath him and lighting cracked across the sky.

The cabin door was flung open and Conway ran out. He jumped over Fort and kept going straight to his truck.

Shocked, it took Fort a second to process what had happened. He sprang up, then ran into the cabin as Witty was peeling out.

No one was inside, but the back portion of the roof was on fire, as was the back wall, the bedroom engulfed in yellow flames. Fort ran to the kitchen. Under the sink was a fire extinguisher. He jerked it out, then ripped the plug out while running back to the fire. Flames were already nipping at the living room walls. Smoke filled the air and burned his eyes. Every breath ended in a cough, and his lungs screamed in pain. Covering his mouth with his sleeve offered no relief. There was no point in trying to save the cabin, half was already gone.

Fort did a quick sweep for people and escaped out the front door, gasping as he drew in fresh air. The sky split open. The storm that had been rushing toward him had arrived, and the cold drops of the rain were refreshing. He skirted the perimeter, spraying the grass that was on fire, working his way to the far back of the cabin where disaster waited for him. The fire had spread ten feet from the house, and a handful of trees were engulfed. Fort sprayed what he could, but the fire was jumping across the land, the conditions primed. The severely dry land was kindling. What rain falling would do little to bank the fire once the fire grew larger, and that was moments away. It would take hurricane level rains to control it. He whipped out his phone and called the fire department, ignoring an incoming call from Cori only because of the urgency of his situation. He made a mental to note to call her first chance to make sure everything with her was okay.

Flames licked at the walls of the cabin, burning it to the ground. His cabin. Going up in smoke. Another ten minutes, and it would be nothing more than ash and timber. A loud crack echoed through the space, and a large evergreen split, falling on what was left of the cabin.

After calling in the fire, Fort called Deke and warned him. Then, with a hurried pace toward his truck, he called Tinsdale to fill him in. Once off the phone, Fort ran the remaining distance to his truck. The rapid growing pace of the fire was frightening, and no amount of rain unless it was a flood, would extinguish it now.

In his truck, he called his stepfather with the warning and Mrs. Z since both homes lay in the path. The information now with them, the telephone tree would be activated. He also knew the fire department would have sounded the alarm.

As fate would have it, and heaven knows they needed a little help from the universe right about now, Witty was on the side of the road with a flat tire.

Fort came to a screeching stop behind him and jumped from the truck. Witty was leaning against the hood, head in his hands. He jumped when he heard Fort.

“Where were you going so fast back there, Conrad?”

“Listen here, Deputy—”

“No, you listen here. Did you start that fire?” Fort thought he knew the answer, but wanted to see how Witty would respond.

“Hell no. That was lightning. Hit that cabin with such force the whole place shook. Fire just appeared. Scared the bejesus out of me.”

“So you ran instead of trying to put it out.” Fort pointed over his shoulder where gray plumes of smoke filled the sky. It was then he noticed matching plumes on the other side of town. “Shit,” he said. There was no time.

He grabbed Witty by the shoulder and spun him around. “I'm taking you in.”

“I told you I didn’t start the fire,” Witty cried and tried to struggle, but the attempt felt halfhearted. Fort slapped a cuff on quickly then steered him toward his truck. “I'm arresting you for trespassing and destruction of property.” He read him his Miranda Rights.

“I told you I didn't start that fire, and I was told I could stay there by Deke.”

“You really going with that seeing as how we're gonna be seeing Deke in about five minutes?” Fort helped Witty into the truck and buckled him in. Witty's lips were pressed tightly into a thin line, his eyes averted.

“All right then,” Fort said, slamming the door. When he got into the driver’s seat, he waited until they were cruising above the speed limit before continuing the conversation. “It was a real gamble to come here pretending to be a campaign manager when the guy you're working for is a deputy. Must be something real important to make you do that.” He glanced in the rearview mirror.

Witty's mouth opened then closed, returning to his tight-lipped stance.

“We know you're here rustling cattle, Witty. We've got the evidence, and it stacks up high against you. When I get you back to the station, I'm gonna run your prints. I'm betting that'll give me a whole treasure trove of information. Nails in the coffin for you. Right now, I've got an arm’s-length list of crimes to charge you with and one is gonna stick. Back to the pokey for you.” Witty's gaze shot to Fort's. He knew that would get the man's attention. He'd taken a stab at Witty’s previous jail time, but the man's expression confirmed his suspicions.

“What do you want?”

“I want the name of the man in charge of this ring. I'm willing to pretend you didn't cooperate at all if it helps you save face. But your cooperation will go a long way.” If he was going to name Cori's dad, it would be best if Witty said it now when she wasn't around to hear. He figured if there was bad news, it would be best coming from him.

Witty jerked his head in frantic disagreement. “He'll kill me anyway.”

“He can't reach you in jail.”

Witty's laugh was a short, brittle sound. “Jail. That's where he'll have it done. No.” Witty wagged his head adamantly. “No.”

They took the turn into town on squealing tires, Fort only slowing when he was close to the station. The truck hadn't come to a complete stop when he threw it into park and cut the engine. The town was empty. Businesses were closed. Many, it looked, done so hastily as their signs still read OPEN.

He jerked Witty from the truck and hustled him to the station. “Think fast, Witty. Time for you is running out regardless. If you think this person can reach you in prison, then you're a dead man anyway. Might as well do something right for a change. A good deed. Maybe it'll lighten the dark smudge on your soul.”

Inside, Cricket and Cori were waiting. They brought him up to speed on what had happened out by the springs.

“And Brody was there,” Cori said. “He shot at us.”

Fort saw red. He wanted Brody something fierce. Fort turned to Witty, gathering his shirt in his fist and lifting, Witty going up on his toes. “Tell me where to find him!”

Witty met Fort's gaze with a panic-filled one of his own. “I already told you. He'll kill me.”

Disgusted with Witty for being a coward and not having a definitive answer as to whether Cori's father was directly involved or not, Fort took out his frustration on Witty and shoved him into a cell without processing. He'd get to it. Right now, there were bigger issues.

Deke ran into the station. “We've got two fires, spreading in both directions.” He pointed east and west. “They're gonna meet in the middle, Fort. That's you, Tinsdale, Mrs. Z and the Williams’, plus, the handful of ranchers on the other side of the river. You need to get home and do what you can. I'll start notifying the other counties. This thing is gonna spread fast. The fire department is asking for manpower.”

Cori gasped and brought her hands to her mouth.

Fort took her in his arms. “We don't have time to be sad or scared right now. People need to be evacuated.”

“I'll go get Mrs. Z,” Cori volunteered.

Fort held her tighter. “It's too dangerous. I'll go.”

“You need to help with the fire. I'm going if I have to steal a car.”

He set his jaw, searching her face. “Take my truck and bring her to Ma's. They will take care of her if they have to evacuate. Be very careful. You're gonna have to drive past the fires. If it’s close to the road or has jumped the road, turn back. You understand?”

Cori nodded.

“If you get cut off after picking her up, drive out of here. Go someplace safe. Got it?”

She nodded again.

He pressed a desperate and firm kiss to her lips, holding her for all he was worth, wishing he didn't have to let go.