She hesitated, wanting to tell him everything. She couldn’t completely trust him, so she remained silent.
“Christmas trees are big business, big money.”
“I read an article about it online.”
“Thirty-four million Christmas trees sold last year,” he said.
“That’s a lot.”
“Takes a lot of land to grow them.”
“Guess Texas makes sense for that business.” She felt as if her new red boots were tightening every time he took her another step down this path.
“That’s my land on the right.”
“Beautiful.”
“You can see the difference, can’t you?”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “But isn’t there room for both types of use on all this land?”
“Sure is. But Texas Timber wants to buy my family’s ranch and turn it from what you see on the right to what you see on the left.”
“That’d be a shame.”
“Glad you agree.” He pointed right again. “Wildcat Ranch has been in my family for generations. Some of the land is still pristine, and it’ll stay that way come hell or high water.”
“I take it you don’t plan to sell.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
“Makes sense. Why sell if you don’t want or need to do it? Like you say, there’s other land for tree farms.”
“You sure?”
She felt a chill run through her body. Now they were getting down to what was bothering him. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”
“You’ve never heard of Texas Timber?”
She shrugged, not willing to commit to anything.
“I saw your website.” He flicked his eyes toward her as he slowed his truck on the road. “Troubleshooter. Vague kind of business.”
Now she really wished she’d driven her SUV. She felt her unease explode. He had her alone in his truck on a lonely road headed to his isolated ranch. And now she understood he was going to give her the third degree. But why his sudden distrust?
She felt her mind spin backward, desperately searching for something, anything that’d explain his abrupt change. And then her memory hooked, spun, and caught. In the gazebo, he’d reached her phone first and handed it to her. Could he have read “Texas Timber” in the millisecond before she’d grabbed her cell? Oh, yes. That’d explain why he was different today.
“Are you sure you’re on vacation?” He stopped the truck and turned to focus on her. “I wouldn’t want my family and friends upset or hurt.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m not beating about the bush.”
“Do you think I’d deliberately hurt your friends and family?” She hated the idea that he’d even consider it.
“No, I don’t.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “But somebody’s causing trouble around here.”
“Well, it’s not me.”
“But you’re not what you seem, are you?”
She turned away from him, not wanting to see the accusation in his gaze. It’d all blown up in her face. She needed to come clean, but could she trust him enough to do it?
“Misty, help me out here. I need answers.”
She took a deep breath and turned back to him. “I would never—not in a million years—do anything to jeopardize your loved ones.”
He nodded, still searching her face as if trying to read deep into her very soul.
“If you won’t believe me then—” She reached down and tried to tug off a cowboy boot. It stuck like glue.
“You’re not giving back the boots.”
“Trey, I’m not in a position to discuss—”
“What are you? And don’t give me that vacation malarkey. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
She took a deep breath. She either trusted him or she didn’t. She couldn’t stay stuck on the fence. She glanced out the front window.
Smoke spiraled into the sky.
Chapter 24
“Smoke!” Misty pointed over Trey’s shoulder, feeling her hand shake slightly from the strong emotions that were flooding her.
He frowned at her as he shook his head. “I’m not falling for that. We’re going to get to the root of why you’re here.”
“I’m serious.” She slipped her phone out of her pocket and hit speed dial for 9-1-1. Nothing. She tried again. No bars.
He gave her a narrow-eyed look before he whipped his head around to look out the window. “Oh, hell!”
“I’m trying to get help.”
“Coverage is spotty here, if there’s any at all.” He hit the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. “Let’s go see what we’ve got. Maybe I can contain it.”
“You’ve got firefighter stuff?”
“Some. In back.” He gunned the engine, and the truck rocketed toward the smoke.
Misty’s pulse accelerated along with the pickup. She took slow, deep breaths. Somehow, she would handle this fire situation. She simply had to do it.
Trey hit the brakes hard, threw open his door, leaped from the truck, and ran a short distance down the road. He looked to the left toward the smoke, put his hands on his hips as if considering the danger, and then jogged back. He jerked open the back door on his side of the truck.