She glanced at her watch, then stood up with a jerk. She couldn’t believe how fast the time was going. Hurriedly, she stripped off her wrinkled clothes and dived into the shower, delighting in the cleansing sprays of warm water. Although they had opened the gym showers at the school to the displaced refugees, Shannon had declined to push her way into the line of people waiting to use them. Personal privacy had always been important to her, and having been raised in an affluent family as the only child, she’d always enjoyed her own things and her own space.
She sighed with utter contentment as she bathed with her favorite scented soap and shampooed her hair. She stepped out of the shower, refreshed, and quickly dressed in tailored slacks and a matching soft blue knit top. She towel-dried her shoulder-length hair and secured it in a clip at the back of her head.
She deliberately ignored the moving hands on her watch as she began packing her suitcases, giving careful attention to a small canvas overnight bag that she would keep with her. She hadn’t unpacked the boxes that had held her books and laptop computer. She took them out to the car and stowed them in the trunk, along with her suitcases. She made one last trip to fill some kitchen sacks with foodstuff she didn’t want to leave behind.
When she was ready to lock the front door of the cottage, she dared a look at her watch. She couldn’t believe it! Already a half hour past the two-hour limit. Lifting her head, she quickly searched the mountain skyline. There seemed to be more dark smoke thickening on the horizon.
She bounded down the front steps, opened the door to her car and was about to climb in when she heard some commotion behind her. She swung around. A small black dog with white feet scurried toward her, his tail wagging furiously as he greeted her enthusiastically with a friendly, puppy-size bark.
There was no doubt in Shannon’s mind that he was Pokey. She laughed as the puppy danced around her feet and put his paws on her legs. As she picked the fellow up, his little legs shot out in all directions, and his pink tongue was like windshield wipers gone berserk as he washed her face with jubilant kisses.
“I know someone who’s going to be glad to see you,” she said, chuckling as she opened the back door of the car and put him inside. “Lie down, Pokey,” she ordered, but the puppy stood on the back seat, his head cocked to one side and his tail wagging as fiercely as ever.
She tossed her shoulder purse on top of her small overnight bag and hurriedly backed out of the gravel driveway.
There was no sign of other cars on the narrow winding road ahead, and she kept glancing in the mirror to see if there were any stragglers behind her. The road was pointedly empty. She couldn’t believe everyone else had observed the time limit. Well, it didn’t matter. Once traffic was allowed on the highway to Elkhorn, she’d be on her way out of here.
She was lost in thought when suddenly, without warning, Pokey suddenly leaped from the back seat into the front, sending her purse and the small canvas overnight bag flying.
“No, Pokey, no!” she protested as the dog tried to scramble into her arms. In her effort to shove him away, she turned the steering wheel too sharply.
The car left the pavement.
Frantically she tried to bring it back on the road, but the wheels failed to gain any traction on the narrow dirt shoulder. The car began to slowly slide downward.
Panic-stricken, she fumbled with her seat belt. Before she could get it unfastened, the car sounded as if its insides were being torn out, and it stopped with a jolt that threw her forward. Only her seat belt kept her from crashing her head against the dashboard.
What was happening? The back end of the car slanted downward, and the road lay about fifty yards above. Any moment she expected the car to start sliding again.
The dog was dancing all over the seat, trying to get into her arms. “No, Pokey, we have to get out.”
The door wouldn’t open. She shoved as hard as she could, but it was wedged shut. She saw then that none of the doors would open wide enough for her to get out. All were jammed against huge boulders that had momentarily snagged the car.
She was trapped, and even the slightest movement seemed to rock the car on its precarious perch.
Ward glanced at his watch for the tenth time in less than five minutes. He was positioned at the bottom of the mountain road, checking off the names of residents who had homes in that area. Every name had been crossed off his list but one, Shannon Hensley.
“Why am I not surprised?” he asked himself. She was already an hour late. As he waited at the checkpoint, his irritation and disappointment over her disregard for instructions turned into just plain anger.
Knowing he was needed in a dozen different places, he answered his cell phone curtly when it rang, “Dawson, here.”
“Everybody off the mountain, Ward?” asked one of the fire chiefs watching Prospect Ridge.
“Not quite. We’ve got one left. A woman.”
The chief muttered something under his breath. “We’ve got trouble up here. The wind’s shifting, and our fire line on the ridge may not hold. If the sparks jump across the ridge, the whole mountain could be threatened. Get her out of there if you have to drag her.”
“Right. I’ll get on it.”
“I’ll bring her down kicking and screaming if I have to,” Ward said under his breath as he climbed into his pickup truck and headed up the mountain, driving at a speed only someone who knew the road would dare.
As Ward silently rehearsed all the sharp things he was going to say to her, he was suddenly filled with a strange impulse to slow down. He’d learned to trust an inner voice that often guided him when he needed it most, and paying heed to it at that moment proved to be a blessing once again. If he’d been driving at his former speed, he would have whipped right by the white car that was off the road without even seeing it. As it was, he glanced down the slope of the rocky hillside and did a double take.
“What in the—” He slammed on his brakes. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The fancy white sports car was precariously hung up on a shelf of large boulders a good distance below the road. Only rocks and low shrubs dotted the hillside.
Bounding from the truck, he started down the steep slope, slipping and sliding all the way. He fought to keep his balance as he scrambled over loose rocks and thickets of scrub oak.
The closer he came to the car, the tighter his chest got. He saw that by some miracle, it was caught precariously in the midst of some large boulders. If the boulders hadn’t been there, there would have been nothing to stop the car’s plunge into the deep ravine below.
“Thank you, Lord,” he breathed.
Even before he reached the car, he began to weigh the situation. How deeply were the rocks rooted in the ground? How long would they hold against the heavy downward pull of the car? Could he get Shannon out without disturbing the precarious balance that held the automobile? As these questions flashed through his mind, he saw another complication. Huge rocks hugged the sides of the car.
Shannon’s stricken pale face was clearly visible through the windshield. As he neared the car, she waved frantically to him as if he might suddenly decide to go away.
He was sure his eyes were deceiving him when he saw what looked like a dog in the seat with her. She hadn’t said anything about having a pet.
As he peered through the driver’s window, he gave her as much of a reassuring smile as