Angelika's SUMMER

On a dark, moonless summer night, with only occasional bolts of heat lightning to relieve the blackness, Angelika stretched her stiff long legs as best she could while driving the rented 2006 KIA Optima. All her worldly possessions were stuffed behind her as she made the long five-hour trip to her new life. She turned left onto a paved gravel road—almost there now, almost to her new home in the country outside Jasper, Texas.

Off in the distance, an orange, yellow, and red glow flickered on the horizon.

A fire.

“Oh no…”

Angelika pressed harder on the gas as panic shoved aside exhaustion. She pulled into the long, rough driveway just as flames leaped skyward, dancing in the wind and devouring the old weathered barn. That barn was supposed to be the animal shelter… and her new residence.

Her heart dropped.

It felt like she was watching her fresh start burn alive.

Something cracked inside her chest. What kind of sign was this? Was God warning her that she’d made the wrong choice?

She shoved the car door open and ran toward the blaze. The heat slapped her like a wall—she could feel it curl the ends of her dark brown hair as smoke thickened, choking, blinding. Before she could get any closer—

She collided into something solid.

A chest.

A body.

A brick wall wearing a T-shirt.

Her knees buckled.

“Whoa, princess,” a deep voice murmured.

Large, steady hands clasped her shoulders, guiding her back out of the dangerous heat.

Angelika blinked through tears and smoke. The voice… that voice. Rich, low, a baritone that felt like velvet dragged across gravel.

His gray eyes locked onto her hazel ones. Even through the soot, even in the orange flicker of firelight, his gaze widened in a way that stole her breath.

Or maybe it was the smoke.

Something wriggled between them.

Kittens.

He was carrying armfuls of whimpering kittens.

He thrust the bundle into her arms. “I’m Isaiah.”

Then he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face before stepping back—a quick gesture, gentle but firm, as though touching her had startled him.

“You must be Angelika. The new vet.”

He didn’t wait for her reaction. He turned and sprinted back toward the burning barn.

Angelika gathered the kittens safely on the grass as fire engines barreled into the driveway. For the next frantic minutes, she watched Isaiah dive in and out of the inferno—rescuing the mother cat, then two more strays, then a limping goat that brayed in protest.

The firefighters contained the blaze in record time, while one of them led her toward a large ranch house at the end of the lane.

“Owner says you can keep the rescues here for now,” the man said.

Angelika washed the smoky scent off the kittens one by one, her mind racing.

What now?

Where would she sleep?

Where would she work?

She’d never spoken directly with the vet she was supposed to partner with—only the man he was replacing. She didn’t even know her new partner’s name.

God, what a disaster.

Only two hours ago, she’d been excited. Hopeful. Ready.

Now she felt like she’d walked into a warning sign flashing TURN BACK NOW.

She’d just set the kittens in a soft towel nest when the air shifted.

A presence.

A familiar warmth.

That voice—a little rougher, cleaner now—spoke behind her.

“You doing alright?”

She turned…

And her mouth actually fell open.

The soot was gone. The grime was washed away. The man standing before her was… breathtaking. Light brown hair still damp from a shower, skin golden from the sun, shoulders broad enough to carry half the barn if he had to. His grey eyes held kindness, humor, and something else that made her pulse skitter.

This couldn’t be the same dirt-smudged stranger she collided with earlier.

But he smiled at her—slowly, knowingly.

“Angelika?”

Wow.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to speak. “I—I’m fine.”

Isaiah leaned back against the wall, hands sliding into the pockets of his dark denim jeans. The move was casual… but the effect wasn’t.

“Glad to hear it,” he said.

She cleared her throat—twice.

Think, Angelika. Words. Use them.

He held out a hand. “Isaiah Arango, W.B.B., at your service.”

She took it. His hand swallowed hers, warm, calloused, steady.

It took effort to pull away.

He studied her face. “You’re rattled.”

She snorted. “I arrive and the shelter burns down. Some omen.”

Isaiah stepped a fraction closer. “We’ll rebuild.”

“Where will I stay until then?” she asked softly.

“Oh.” He shrugged. “Here.”

Angelika blinked. “Here? As in—this house?”

“Yup.” He nudged his chin toward the hall. “Plenty of rooms. Pick one.”

She opened her mouth to protest—and then froze.

Right.

Everything she owned was still in the car outside.

She had run toward the fire without grabbing anything.

She blurted, mortified, “Oh no.”

Isaiah frowned. “What?”

Angelika covered her face with both hands. “I didn’t bring anything in with me. Not my overnight bag, not my clothes, not even my phone charger. Everything’s still in the rental.”

He laughed softly—warm, not mocking.

“Angel… you ran into a burning barn. I think you get a pass.”

“But I smell like smoke. I look like I rolled in ashes. I don’t even have a brush—”

“I’ve got a spare charger,” he said gently. “And you can borrow some clothes tonight.”

She stared at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” His voice dropped, turning rough. “I’m not letting you sleep smelling like a campfire.”

She glared weakly.

He grinned.

Isaiah motioned toward the hallway. “Come on. Pick a room. I’ll grab towels. Tomorrow, we’ll get your bags out of the car.”

Angelika nodded, fleeing down the hall before her blush could betray her.

As she disappeared into the guest room, Isaiah watched her go.

Feisty.

Beautiful.

Braver than she realized.

A blessing he’d never expected—but one he wasn’t about to question.

He smiled to himself.

“Welcome home, Dr. Angelika Summer.”