Read Online Maggie's Mountain by Mya Barrett - Free Book Online Page B

possibilities, all of them grim. What if she was trapped in the cabin? What if she was watching her only home being eaten by flames? What if she were being an idiot and trying to save her house with a garden hose and a prayer?
    He whipped the Mercedes into her paved drive, searching for a glimpse of the fire truck, the fire personnel, and Maggie. Slamming on his brakes, he came to a full stop behind a blue Toyota Corolla with the trunk open. The cabin wasn’t in flames, thank God, but it was impossible to miss the bright red truck that had wheeled itself around back. The fire personnel were scrambling around, looking surprisingly competent for volunteers. But he didn’t see Maggie. His heart was pounding so hard he wondered if it would hop right out of his throat. He was halfway around the other car when he finally spotted her.
    She was rushing down the ramp, balancing boxes in her arms before shoving them into the trunk of the Camry. He took a deep breath, clenched and unclenched his hands, all in a bid to find his composure.
    “What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing?” he bit out.
    She didn’t even bother to stop when she answered. “Baking a cake. What does it look like I’m doing?”
    She disappeared inside, her round, jean clad bottom rocking provocatively in her hurry. Of all the times for his libido to send up a roar, now was not the best. Sucking in a full breath, he lunged up the front stairs and through the door.
    “The woods are on fire, Maggie Mae,” he said, trying to sound calm and reasonable.
    “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” She spun to shovel boxes into his arms and he took them without thinking. “Take those to the car.”
    “Damn it! You should be up at the main road at the very least. Back at the farm would be better.”
    “I’m not leaving my home. No matter what happens to it, I’m not abandoning this place.” She heaved up another stack, this one of sturdy plastic tubs rather than the shipping boxes he held. “This is the last load. Once I have these in the car, I’ll drive up to the end of the driveway and wait.”
    She didn’t give him time to argue as she swerved past. Exasperated, Hale followed, acting like the pack mule he was while she piled her things into the backseat. Once his arms were empty he grasped her upper arm and slammed the door shut.
    “You’ve got your things. Let’s go.”
    He slid her into the drivers’ seat and strode to his own vehicle. He didn’t bother to start his car until he saw the Toyota come to life. With careful backing he made his way up the rise, stopping with enough room for her to park in front of him. Seconds later he was leaping out to confront her.
    “Of all the stubborn, idiotic—”
    “Shut up, Hale.”
    Anger born from fear exploded, sending him around to grab her by the shoulders. “You’re supposed to be an intelligent woman, but instead of taking off, getting out of the way of the firemen, you stay and pack like you’re going on vacation.”
    Her lavender eyes flashed hot with indignation. “That’s my life. Sad that it can all fit into a few boxes in the back of a sedan, but it’s all I have. Most of it is other people’s work, the things I sell. You should know how important it is to save what you can of your money flow.”
    “Work? You stayed behind for…? Damn it, Maggie, if this was about your job then somebody needs to shake some common sense into you.”
    She wiggled in his grasp and he pressed his hands tighter. “It wasn’t all work. I grabbed the boxes that had my mother and Chris’s things in them.”
    He conjured up the image of her scampering around the cabin, gathering things from drawers and closets while the fire crept closer. He barely recognized the fingers of dread that skimmed his spine.
    “You could have died while you were busy shoving things into boxes.”
    “They were already packed,” she protested. “I don’t leave their things just lying around. I’m not that