“Just for a little while,” Blaze said, rubbing her back gently. “I’ve got to...I’ve got to do something first.”
Her grip tightened on his sleeve. “Don’t go. Please. Don’t leave me.”
He swallowed hard. “Rachel, listen to me. You’ll be safe here. Safer than if you’re running out there with me. I’ll come back for you. I swear it.”
Tears slid down her cheeks. “But what if you don’t?”
“Then I’ll haunt this town until I find my way back,” he said. “You’ll never lose me.”
Rachel clung to him, sobbing. Blaze held her tight, his own eyes burning. Then he gently eased her into Kane’s arms.
“You’ll keep her safe,” Blaze repeated.
Kane nodded. “She’ll be like my own blood.”
“Make sure she is,” Blaze said.
Kane’s eyes glimmered in the firelight, a faint smile curling his lips. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of her.”
Blaze’s gut twisted, but he forced himself to nod. He squeezed Rachel’s hand one last time, then straightened, his body trembling with exhaustion and rage.
“I’ll be back,” Blaze said, voice steady. “Wait for me, Rachel.”
She nodded through her tears, clutching the blanket. “I’ll wait.”
When he turned for the door, Kane was watching him closely.
“Where will you go?” Kane asked.
Blaze paused, his hand on the latch. “I’ll find Wilder.”
“Alone?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“For now,” Blaze said. “He started this. I’ll finish it.”
Kane smirked faintly, though he tried to hide it. “You’ve got your father’s fire. Just don’t burn too bright too quickly.”
Blaze opened the door, dawn spilling across the porch. He looked back once. Rachel was huddled by the fire with Kane’s shadow falling over her. Not a second later, he stepped out into the cold morning, the dust of Red Rock Crossing crunching beneath his boots.
Chapter 7
The desert lay pale and harsh beneath a mid-morning sun. Blaze moved with his hands jammed deep in his pockets. The Colt at his hip was a cold weight he had not meant to carry so soon. The gun had felt like an heirloom before; now it sat on his hip like a promise he hadn’t wanted to make.
Every mile between Kane’s place and the ranch burned into him.
His boots scuffed over hardpan, slipped down dry gullies, and crunched across the crust of frozen soil. He wrapped his arms around himself, and his breath clouded in the cold, but his mind burned too hot to feel it.
Images of Rachel clung to him: her wide eyes, her trembling voice, the way she’d begged him not to go. He saw Kane’s look again, sharp as a blade, and wondered if he’d done right by leaving her there.
“You’ll be safer,” Blaze muttered to himself, jaw tight. “Better there than out here.”
But even as he said it, he wasn’t sure he believed it.
Hours dragged. His legs ached, and his shoulders sagged, but the black shape of the cottonwoods finally rose against the horizon. Smoke still lingered in the air, carried on the morning wind. His chest tightened.
He crested the last ridge and looked down into the hollow where the ranch had stood. His breath caught.
The house was a ruin. The roof had caved, and the walls were charred black. The barn was gone, only ash and broken beams scattered where it had been. The corral fence lay half-burned, collapsed like bones around a grave.
