blond hair and beautiful green eyes that didn’t seem to miss even the tiniest of details. As he watched, she took away an empty dish of guacamole and replaced it with spicy salsa and blue corn tortilla chips.
“That’s Kim Nelson. Do you remember her from high school?”
“I never met her. If I had, I would have remembered,” Rick said without hesitation.
“She was a freshman when you were a senior,” Gene said. “To hear her talk when we were discussing the plans for tonight, I think she used to have a thing for you. Kyle says it’s because you were quarterback, but I fail to see the reasoning. You hand off or throw the ball, take some hits and run the option once in a while. Barely got your jersey dirty most games.”
“Jealous, bro?” Rick said, and laughed.
“Nah. I’m the one who ended up with the prize,” he said, looking across the room at the pretty brunette watching the match. “Lori’s the perfect wife for a cowboy like me.”
“You were born to be a rancher,” Rick said. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
As Gene went back to join his wife, Rick found he couldn’t take his eyes off Kim. Even the way she moved caught his attention. The woman possessed a presence; a dynamic combo of grace and confidence that kept him searching the dining room for her.
Finally he forced himself to look away. He didn’t need this now. Though he’d never been the ladies’ man his brothers thought him to be, he’d never had trouble finding company. Now that his face was marked by a scar that ran across his nose and cheek, a leftover from a deadly knife fight, things would undoubtedly be different.
As Kim worked the room, smiling but definitely staying in the background, he noted the way she’d sometimes glance in his direction. He was about to seek her out when she came over.
“You’re the guest of honor tonight, Mr. Cloud. Is there anything special I can get for you?”
“No, I’m good, thanks,” he said. She had spectacular green eyes that stayed on his, never shifting for a quick look at his scar. Kim couldn’t have missed it, yet she still focused on him.
“I’m Kim, the events coordinator here at the Brickhouse.”
He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. And call me Rick.”
“Your brothers wanted to make sure every detail of your homecoming was perfect, Rick. That’s one of the reasons I stayed to handle things personally. The other, I’ve got to admit, is because I was curious to see you again. I knew who you were back in high school, but I don’t think you ever noticed me,” she said with a little smile.
“Definitely my loss.”
She smiled. “When Preston Bowman came to book the restaurant for the private event, my uncle and I knew we had to make this evening super special.”
His brother Preston, the lead detective on the Hartley, New Mexico, police department, had a way about him that intimidated most people. “Preston carries that much weight?”
“Actually he does, with me and my uncle, that is.”
Something in her tone of voice caught his attention, but before she could say anything more, they heard a loud thump in the kitchen and the rattle of a pot or pan bouncing on the floor.
Kim jumped. “I better go see what happened,” she said, excusing herself.
“Wait,” he said, reaching for her hand. Something felt off. He took a shallow breath and caught the familiar scent of rotten eggs. It seemed to be growing stronger with each passing second.
“That’s a gas leak,” he told Kim, then called out to his brothers. “Everyone outside! Quickly.”
“It’s getting stronger,” Daniel said. “Let’s go, people!” He pulled his wife, Holly, toward the front door.
Rick’s other brother, Paul Grayhorse, got there first but the door refused to budge. “It’s locked!” He turned the knob and shoved, but the door didn’t open. “No, it’s stuck or jammed.”
“Force it,” Gene shouted. “Kick it open if you have to!”
“I’ll check the back,” Rick said, turning toward the kitchen.
“I’ve got to check on my uncle!” Kim rushed past him. She started coughing as she pushed through the double doors to the kitchen. “Uncle Frank? Where are you?”
As Rick caught up to her, they found Frank Nelson lying on the floor beside a long counter, blood oozing from the back of his head.
Kim knelt beside her uncle. “He’s unconscious. We have to get him out of here,” she cried out.
Out of the corner of his eye, Rick noticed movement. It was a flexible metal gas line against the wall behind the stove. Cut in two, it was fluttering slightly from the outflow of methane. Nearby lay a pair of heavy-duty, red-handled bolt cutters.
“We’ve got to get out of here before a spark sets off an explosion,” Rick yelled. “Help me pull him out the back.”
Her eyes narrowed as the foul stink of gas flooded the kitchen, but she didn’t panic. Kim took her uncle’s arm and Rick the other, and together they dragged Frank toward the rear exit.
Rick then pushed the left half of the double doors hard with his shoulder. It creaked, but only opened a few inches before it stopped with a rattle.
He looked down into the gap between the doors. “They’re chained from the outside,” he said, nearly gagging from the strong outflow of methane.
Putting his back into it, Rick pushed even harder. The doors squealed, but held tight.
“We’re trapped! Maybe the front door?” Kim looked toward the dining area.
Following her gaze, Rick could see his brothers all leaning into the door. Slowly they forced it open enough to give Erin, Kyle’s wife and the smallest of the women, room to slip through the gap.
“We can’t wait. I’ve got to break the doors down.” Rick pulled the unconscious man aside, lowered him to the floor and then took a step back. Bracing his arm against his body, he rushed the left door with a yell.
Rick’s two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle crashed against the doors. The brass handles broke with a loud snap and the doors flew open. Rick stumbled halfway across the loading dock and crashed into the guard rail before he could stop himself.
Racing back into the kitchen, he reached Frank and Kim, who was down on her knees beside her uncle. Glancing through the kitchen toward his brothers, Rick saw Daniel, the last of the party, just ducking out.
“Time to leave,” Rick yelled. He put Frank Nelson over his shoulder and strode quickly down the steps of the loading dock. “Hurry,” he added, looking back at Kim.
Kim slipped under the guard rail, jumped off the edge of the platform and met Rick at the bottom of the steps. Just then, Kyle and Preston came around the corner of the Brickhouse, running toward them.
“Get back!” Rick yelled, jogging toward the street with the injured man over his shoulder. “The place can blow any second!”
With Kim beside him, Rick angled left, heading for the corner of the next building over, a former theater turned furniture store. He wanted a solid structure between them and the upcoming blast.
As he reached the sidewalk, he saw his family, en masse, racing across the street in a loose cluster. They had no time to find cover. “On the ground!” he yelled.
Rick dropped to his knees and lowered Frank to the sidewalk. Pulling Kim down and against the wall of the building, he covered her with his body.
Suddenly the earth shook, shaking him back and forth as a massive concussive wave and flash of light swept out into the street. A blinding ball of hot air and flames followed, shooting out of the alley