Free High Stakes Bride by Fiona Brand Page A

formed a neat edging along the path, she drew back her arm and threw it.
    It bounced.
    With a fluid movement, she retrieved the rock and brought it crashing down on the panel. Glass shattered in a web like the windscreen of a car. As forceful as she’d been, the hole she’d made was the size of a walnut.
    She couldn’t believe it. Tom had laminated glass in his kitchen door.
    Lifting the rock, she hammered at the glass until she’d knocked out enough to reach through and unfasten the door, but precious minutes had passed. Seconds later, she had emergency services on the line.
    Struggling to stay calm, she reported the fire and supplied the address, then clamped down on her impatience when the operator asked her to supply her own name and details and requested she stay on the line.
    The slow tick of the clock seemed preternaturally loud as her gaze swung around the kitchen. She noticed that something red speckled the glittering shards of glass and the trail ran from the door to the counter. Blankly, she registered that the slow drip of blood came from her. A long, shallow cut ran along the inside of her wrist; she must have cut herself when she’d broken the panel.
    The popping crackle as timbers exploded jerked her head around. Stomach tight, she stared out of Tom’s tiny, pristine kitchen as a thick column of smoke darkened the sky. The steady roaring of the fire had increased until it drowned out the slow tick of the clock, and fear gripped her. It would take a fire crew a good ten to fifteen minutes to get out here, by then it could all be over. Fingers slippery with blood, she fumbled the receiver back on its rest, grabbed a tea towel to wrap her wrist, using her teeth to knot it tight as she ran to the barn. She had given the operator all the information required. There was no way she could just stand in Tom’s kitchen and watch while his place went up in flames. She could at least try to save his tractor and after that, she would do what she could to save the house.
    Oily black smoke billowed as she entered the barn, the heat almost driving her back. The tractor was easy to find. Tom was very precise in his habits—he always parked his tractor in the same place—backed in so that it faced the door. Eyes stinging, lungs aching from holding her breath, she pulled herself into the driver’s seat and felt for the keys. Her fingers brushed metal already hot from the flames licking at the back wall of the barn. Her heart plummeted. The keys weren’t in the ignition, which mean Tom must have them either hidden or hanging somewhere.
    Dragging her shirt up around her mouth and nose, she sucked in a breath and almost choked as acrid air burned her throat. Coughing, she swung down from the tractor and made her way to the door. The smoke was so thick she was having trouble breathing, let alone seeing. A blast of heat sent her reeling, a split second later she stumbled outside just as a vehicle drove into the yard. She had a glimpse of Tom’s nut-brown face and wispy grey hair as he reversed, gravel spitting, then she doubled up in a paroxysm of coughing.
    A gnarled hand gripped her arm. “Are you okay?”
    â€œI called emergency services then I tried to get the tractor. Couldn’t find the key.”
    Tom’s expression was grim. “I’ve got a spare.”
    â€œTom, wait. ” Dani’s heart clenched as the old man disappeared into the smoke. Tom was as tough as rawhide, but if he didn’t come out soon, she was going in after him.
    Seconds later, the stuttering rumble of a tractor starting was followed by the dull gleam of smoke-blackened metal as Tom, equally blackened, drove his tractor, with a trailer hitched behind, out of the barn.
    As Tom parked the tractor beside the truck in the paddock, a vehicle slid to a halt, gravel spraying.
    Carter.
    His gaze touched on hers, cold and brief as he swung out of the truck, then shifted to Tom. “Got sick