Jack strode to his vehicle and Emma trotted after him, fear still pumping through her veins. She’d seen June angry but never to the point where she’d lost control.
“You didn’t court me,” Emma said.
“I didn’t have to because you chased me.” Jack started his work vehicle and backed from their driveway. “Ring Samuel now.”
A loud crash sounded above the engine. Smoke poured from their kitchen window.
“Fuck,” Jack muttered.
“Fire! Our house! Crap, what is she doing?” Emma hit speed dial, prayed Samuel would answer. “S-Samuel! June set our house on fire. You have to come. She’s furious.”
“Are you inside with her?” Samuel demanded.
“No, we’re outside.” Emma gaped at the flames licking across the window frame.
“She hurt you?”
“The house is on fire,” Emma snapped.
“I’m on my way. Leave it to me.”
“I’m calling Manu next. This is all his fault. If our house burns down, you will pay for a new one. I’m not claiming insurance for fire by dragon.” She ended the call. “She won’t burn our entire house. We should go back.”
“It’s too dangerous.” Jack’s grimace dug deeper, and he kept driving toward the office. “She’s likely to hurt you if she’s this out of control.”
“I didn’t do anything. I love our house.”
“Don’t worry. Samuel will calm the situation and pay us restitution.”
“But it’s our house,” Emma wailed.
“I know, sweetheart.” Jack’s tone was grim. “I’ll be voting for Manu to take over at the next tribe gathering. No one threatens my mate without consequences.”
* * * * *
Matthew strolled through the paddocks, stopping now and then to check the buds on the female plants. They were in perfect condition, pest-free and ready for harvest. He rang Herbert.
“Harvest tomorrow,” he said as soon as his employee answered. “This one is ready. The other crop needs a week before it reaches maturity.”
Herbert grunted. “The woman has disappeared. Still can’t find her. She has checked out of the motel.”
“If she is with the man, that will work to our benefit. A romance will keep her busy.” Matthew continued walking through the head-high plants. This weed should yield high prices. “Keep up the search,” he ordered. “Tell me when you locate her.”
“You don’t need my help with the harvest?”
“No, I’d rather keep tabs on the woman. The harvest is organized. I can’t see any problems. Talk to you later.” Matthew hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. Not long until his plan came to fruition, and he’d be free of his ex. He couldn’t allow Cassie Miller-Pope to get in his way.
* * * * *
Two nights later, Cassie prepared for her spot at the show. Hone had said it was a short drive to the vineyard, and it was almost time to leave. Nerves—the good kind—bounced in her stomach. Pure apprehension would take over if she let it, but applying her stage makeup and dressing in her Katie-Jo clothes calmed her and helped her to don her stage persona. She became a professional singer. She slipped on her strappy sandals.
Hone had practiced with her several times and confidence soared within her, even though she intended to perform two new songs.
As if she’d conjured the man, he wandered into the bedroom.
He came to an abrupt stop. “I wouldn’t recognize you if I walked past you in the street.”
“That’s the beauty of my disguise,” Cassie said lightly. She swiped a final coat of mascara over her lashes. The heavier eye makeup and the lip gloss took her from ordinary to mysterious. The bright pink wig was an awesome touch. If she decided to go back to performing in the States, she’d keep this wig.
