Page 41 of Sweet Beginnings

The dog had disappeared from sight. Preston slowed, scanning the surroundings.

“There!” Sarah pointed to the dark shadow ahead from a mound of dead wisteria. The white fangs and whites of frantic eyes could be seen peering out at them from between the barren twigs.

Once again the Jeep hadn’t come to a complete stop when she bolted. He was going to have to talk to her about that.

Grabbing a large blanket from the back seat, Preston trotted around the front of the hood and grabbed her arm, gently yanking her to a halt. “Let me. I’ve worked with Brady, and if he lunges, at least I have some protection.”

A jagged ray of light stretched from sky to ground at the same moment the clap of thunder sounded overhead followed by the cracking sound of breaking wood. Lightning had struck a nearby tree. A dead tree. The crackling sound continued until a loud thud of a branch slamming against the ground filled the air. And something else.

Even Samson sensed it. All three had raised their noses to the air. The smell was unmistakable. Smoke. And fire.

Flames shot up high from the struck tree, sparks began flying in every direction. Like a match on gas-soaked kindling, fires erupted left and right, rivers of flames traveling from dry spot to spot.

“Damn it.” Preston surveyed their surroundings. The fire was spreading fast, too fast. If they didn’t move, and soon, they’d be trapped. “We have to go. Give me the leash, I’ll get the dog. You take the Jeep and I’ll catch up.”

“No. We’ll do this together.”

“Sarah Sue.”

“Look.” She pointed ahead. “He’s coming out.”

“Smart dog. Now go. I’ll handle this.”

“Together. We’ll handle this.”

“Sarah Sue. Please.”

Ignoring him, she inched closer to the dog, only this time, instead of raging with fear and anger, the dog was slinking slowly forward, his gaze darting from them to the flames expanding around them. This was so not good.

Chapter Fifteen

She should have listened. Even though her instincts had told her that Samson would calm down with her, Preston was right, she should have let him have her back. Maybe then they wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a fast-growing brush fire with a traumatized dog.

“Smoke’s getting thick.” Preston stared into the distance. “I’m going to circle around and toss the blanket on Samson. Then I’ll scoop him up and we’ll both head for the Jeep. Agreed?”

As much as she hated it, she shook her head and pointed to the vehicle now parked on the other side of the blazing fire.

Eyes blinked shut, Preston blew out a sigh. The blanket balled under one arm, his other fist clenched at his side.

Samson whimpered, easing closer.

“He seems calmer.” Though she had absolutely no idea why an animal that moments ago was frenzied with stress now seemed to be focused and absurdly calm.

Black smoke was growing thick and strong.

“This smoke can overtake us in a heartbeat. We need to get down.” Tugging her to the ground, the way Preston’s gaze darted about, she knew he was doing the same thing she was—debating how the heck they were going to get out of here.

Another bolt of lightening flashed in the sky accompanied by the crash of thunder, but unlike before, Samson remained settled, calm, his nose twitching from the scents around him. Suddenly, the animal tipped his head back, howled, and ran circles around the two of them. Could it be possible the fire had driven the dog completely over the edge and off his rocker?

“What do you have in your pockets?” Crouching on his knees, he pulled out one of the bottles of water his mother had given them.

“Treats, water, and a pocket knife.”

“Pocket knife?”

She shrugged. “You never know when it might come in handy.”

“Right now I’d kill for a shovel.”

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