Page 88 of The Cowboy's Second Chance Bride

We were in the car, heading to the airport, when I said, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Cal rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not one for believing in coincidences, but maybe that’s what this is.”

I knew he wanted that to be true. The guilt would be huge if this could be traced back to his father.

“You are not responsible for the actions of another person.” I took his hand and squeezed. “I love you. Whether it was an accident or not is irrelevant because all of us are safe. That’s all that matters.”

He was leaning in for a kiss when his phone rang. It was Morgan. He put her on speakerphone. “You’re up early,” he said.

“Cal, there’s been a fire in Brynna’s barn. An explosion really.” Her voice quivered with emotion.

“Is everyone okay?” He met my worried gaze with one of his own.

“One of the hands was in the pasture with some cows when the barn exploded. He was hit with debris. He has some burns and a head injury. He was airlifted to the hospital in Cheyenne. Fort is on his way with a fire inspector. Brynna is devastated.”

“You have to go home,” I told him.

He was torn, but a person couldn’t be in two places at once. “After we go to your house.”

“That’s not all,” Morgan said. “I was served papers last night. Your father has filed for divorce and is asking for the ranch.” She choked back a sob. “The nerve of that guy.”

Cal filled in Morgan about my house fire. I gave Cal the look—the one that said he needed to be with his mom more than he needed to be with me.

“He’s splitting us up. You see that, right? I think he wants you to be home alone,” Cal said.

“Then I’ll ask Nick to come with me. Just because we aren’t together doesn’t make us weak,” I said.

“You’ll take Nick and a bodyguard. And, Mom, I’m sending a few people to the ranch as well. He’s not taking the ranch today, but he has taken away our sense of safety, and I can fix that immediately. I’m headed home, Mom. Don’t do anything until I get there.”

As he disconnected the call, I was already on my phone, calling Nick. I gave him the quick rundown and asked him to meet me at the airport. He was already headed to his car when I made my request. That was how good a friend he was.

Cal called Optium and had two executive protection agents sent to the ranch and one sent to me. The plan was that as soon as I talked to the inspector and could leave, I would head back to the ranch. Cal was worried about all of us not being together.

Then, just when we thought it couldn’t get worse, a video of me socking Kathy in front of her child made the gossip sites. The image was not from a leaked county camera but captured on someone’s cell phone. I became an instant meme and GIF. Neither of which were flattering. The vitriol was awful. Many questioned how I could ever think I should be a mom when I’d done that in front of a child. I had to admit, that hurt. It wasn’t something I hadn’t thought myself. Not only was Dalton pulling us all in different directions physically, but he was pulling our attention into all directions as well.

At the private airport, Cal waited for Nick to arrive before leaving me to catch a charter. “I don’t like this,” he said, pulling me into a tight hug.

“We’ve been through worse. Physical distance is nothing so long as we’re on the same page.”

“Let me know as things unfold, and get out as soon as you can. I know that’s asking a lot, but I would feel a lot better being with you and knowing you’re safe.”

“I would question whether your dad could stoop so low, but I remind myself that nothing is off-limits to him.”

We kissed goodbye, and Nick and I boarded one plane while Cal went to board another, and we went in opposite directions.

Exactly four hours later, I was standing in my yard with Nick, Detective Pham, a bodyguard, and the fire inspector looking at my mostly destroyed house. The fire had caught at the garage, and both the garage and my SUV were toast. No pun intended. Or heck, maybe the pun was intended because the space was nothing but charred remains. Unlike toast, the burned parts couldn’t be scraped off to salvage the space.

The fire had taken my home office, which included guest quarters for clients and consisted of a kitchenette, bathroom, living room, and bedroom space. When clients were leaving everything they knew and had opted for an arranged marriage in search of freedom, I tried to make that transition as comfortable as possible. It wasn’t the loss of the space I mourned but the pictures I had put on the walls—images of happy couples, some with their children. Proof that what I did actually made people happy and gave their lives meaning. And losing that felt symbolic, like Dalton was trying to destroy all of it.

From there the fire traveled into my bedroom and living room. My kitchen was the only room with four walls.

I had to prove to the inspector that I had been out of town for the last ten days. Seeing as there appeared to be evidence that the actual living space of my home had been ransacked before the fire was started added evidence to the findings of arson. He walked me through where the fire had begun and how it had progressed.

“Do you know what they were looking for?” Detective Pham asked.

I shook my head. We did several walk-throughs, and with such a mess, there was no telling what might be missing.

“It’s going to take weeks to get this squared away,” my insurance guy said. “But it’s a total loss. I’m sorry, Sabrina. I’ll leave you to it.”

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