Leaving the comfort of the couch, she padded to the kitchen for a drink of water, searching for the source of her unease. Filling a glass with the tap from the sink, she stared out the window, seeing nothing but the murky darkness of night. Black, like an impending doom. An electrical current of anxiety raced along her nerves.

King's Ransom.

The stallion's name whispered through her mind without provocation. A chill eddied down her spine. A strong, niggling intuition propelled her into action. Setting the glass on the counter, she started for the front door, stopping for a second at the den.

She stuck her head in the doorway. "I'll be right back, Laura."

Frowning at Caitlan's brusqueness, Laura stood and followed Caitlan down the hall. "Where are you going?"

"To the barn," she said over her shoulder, jogging down the porch steps. "Stay here."

Laura dogged her steps. "Dad said we shouldn't go anywhere alone."

"Stay in the house!" Caitlan ordered, her boots crunching on the gravel.

Laura ignored her. "I'm not letting you go to the barn alone. Dad's gonna freak when he finds out we went down there."

Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. Caitlan could feel it in her bones; her intuition so strong, so overwhelming, it nearly smothered her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a large silhouette slink around the side of the barn, then disappear behind the structure.

"Hey!" Caitlan yelled to get the person's attention. A blur of shadowy movement took off toward the bunkhouse. Knowing she'd never be able to catch up to the person, she let him go.

"Who was that?" Laura asked, her voice full of bewilderment.

"I don't know." A horse's high-pitched cry, full of terror, rent the night. King. Caitlan broke into a run toward the barn, apprehension rippling through her. Flinging the door open, a cloud of smoke billowed out. The biting, acrid scent of burning wood slipped up her nostrils.

"Oh, God, Laura. The barn is on fire!" Caitlan's heart pumped furiously and she automatically pushed Laura in the opposite direction, out of harm's way. "Go back to the house and call Frank, and then your father."

Laura's eyes widened, her expression frightened. She clutched at Caitlan's sleeve, tears of fright filling her eyes. "Don't go in there-"

Caitlan stole a precious moment to smooth a reassuring hand over Laura's cheek. 'I'll be fine, I promise, but I need you to call for help."

Bottom lip trembling, Laura nodded. "Please be careful." Whirling around, she ran back toward the house, her long hair flying out behind her.

Once Caitlan assured herself of Laura's safety, she rushed into the barn. The crackle of fire devouring wood reached her ears. Unable to see more than three feet in front of her for all the smoke hazing the area, she guessed the blaze to be at the far end of the barn.

Swallowing back the alarm crowding her throat, she started unlatching stalls and quickly guided the terrified horses, one at a time, out the side door leading to the open pasture. With each horse she released, the heat, smoke, and snapping fire intensified.

King's scream shattered Caitlan's concentration. His fear and panic squeezed her heart like a tight fist. Please let him be okay, she silently prayed, her only request for divine intervention.

Smacking the last mare on the rump, sending her into the pasture with the other horses, Caitlan headed toward the echo of King's terrified screams. Searching frantically through the cloud of churning, pungent smoke, she finally located King's stall and found the true source of the fire.

The empty stall next to King's was an inferno of hungry flames, the bright orange flares eating their way into the stallion's pen, lapping the walls of King's stall and sparking the hay covering the ground. King thrashed wildly, trying to escape the blaze consuming his stall.

She moved forward, grabbing an old towel someone had draped over a wooden bench. The smoke made it difficult to find the coiled lead rope hanging near King's stall, but her searching fingers finally found the nubbly cord. Eyes stinging, she threw open the stall door. Tossing the towel over King's head to shield his eyes, she quickly clipped the hook to his halter and guided the screaming and terrified horse from his burning stall.

Struggling against King's urge to flee, she blindly found her way through the barn. Smoke choked her. Every breath she took burned her lungs.

Her grip on the lead rope slipped, and King took advantage of the slack and shied away, his high-pitched neigh of fright piercing the air. A battle of wills ensued. Caitlan jerked him forward, but he was a powerful animal, driven by fear. He tugged on the rope and danced about, neighing. Thick smoke curled around them, making it difficult to see King, or the entrance.

The crackle of wood splintering sent chills up Caitlan's spine; then a deafening crash shook the ground beneath her, sending King into another fit of panic and throwing her off balance. She knew King's stall had collapsed and the fire was rapidly spreading. In the distance she heard urgent shouts for help from the hands, and tried to focus on the sound, to use it as a guide to lead them out of the barn.

Disoriented from King's thrashing, she started forward. The roar of raging fire filled her head. Scorching heat seemed to surround her from every angle, closing in like a monstrous shark feeding frenzy. She stopped short, trying to find a familiar landmark, but was unable to see anything through the murky smoke. King jerked wildly against the rope and she stumbled.

A helpless sound escaped her raw throat. The structure seemed to close in on her, snatching the breath from her lungs. Head spinning and stomach rolling, she groped for the medallion beneath her sweatshirt.

Heaven help her, she'd lost all sense of direction.


Bringing his truck to a skidding halt in front of the house, J.T. jumped out of the driver's side before the dust and gravel had a chance to settle. His feet hit the ground running, too anxious to wait for Kirk, who'd pulled up in his truck behind J.T.'s.

When Laura had called him, sobbing, and told him the barn was on fire and Caitlan was in it trying to save the animals, his heart had stopped beating. All he could remember thinking was that if he lost Caitlan in that fire he'd never be the same again.

Laura's plea of, "Hurry, Dad, I'm scared" propelled him to hang up the phone and yell the message to Kirk before bolting out of the house to his truck. The drive had taken him less than three minutes.

Now, adrenaline and gut-wrenching fear for Caitlan's life ruled him. Shoving aside his worry, he ran to the barn, his gaze scanning the area for Caitlan. His men were just arriving on the scene. Frank shouted orders as he opened the storage shed off to the side, flipped on a flood light to illuminate the area, and began tossing out buckets for the troughs, extinguishers, and water hoses.

Oh, God, where was Caitlan? Stark terror twisted in his heart as he neared the barn. Smoke spewed out the doors, the windows, and even slithered through minuscule cracks in the structure. The sinister sound of flames enveloping wood, and anything else in their path, breached the night. More adrenaline surged through his body at the thought of Caitlan being trapped in there.

"Dad!"

J.T. whipped around. Laura stood away from the activity, all alone, her arms wrapped around her stomach. The floodlight shone off her tear-streaked face. Relief poured over him at seeing her unharmed, only to be replaced by dread. "Where's Caitlan?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

A sob broke from Laura. "She's still in the barn!"

J.T. swore profanely, hating the fear that made his blood run cold. He despised even more the horrifying memories of another woman's tragic death. And that he'd been helpless to save her.

Not this time, he vowed, racing toward the barn. He wouldn't lose Caitlan. Not without a fight. Not after she'd insinuated herself in his life and made him fall in love with her. Especially not after she'd made him feel and need and care so deeply again.

Thinking only of Caitlan, he pushed aside his men and entered the barn first. The darkness of night, mingled with the hazy smoke, momentarily blinded him. He swallowed to ease the rasp in his throat, unsure if the bitter taste in his mouth was fear or smoke.

"Caitlan!" he bellowed, charging into the thick of it.

He heard her cough weakly, and King's sharp cry of alarm, just yards away from him. Breathing shallowly, he moved forward and nearly ran into her. He found her clutching that damnable medallion of hers like a lifeline in one hand and the rope secured to King in the other.

She looked up at him, gratitude touching her features. "J.T.," she rasped, then coughed.

Torn between throttling her and hugging her, he took the rope from her fingers and grabbed her arm, navigating her and King around his men rushing to put out the blaze.

Once outside, J.T. didn't give King a chance to put up a fight or turn wild on him. Keeping up a steady, fast-paced stride, with Caitlan jogging to keep up, he dragged the skittish stallion to an empty corral. Letting go of Caitlan long enough to unlatch the gate, he removed the towel from King's head, then led the horse inside and set him free.

Then he turned toward Caitlan.

Now that the crises was over his blood ran hot in his veins and his pulse beat erratically. Knowing Frank and his men could handle things without his assistance, J.T. focused on the more important matters pressing in on him.

Needing to affirm that Caitlan was truly alive and unharmed, he dropped the towel and took her face in his hands. He cupped her warm, smooth flesh, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, her nose, her lips. Reassured by her presence, giant shudders of relief rippled through his body.