Wild Fire by Linda I. Shands

mentioned a brother back at Thurston Springs. He was the one who’d found the book on the Yana tribe at Anne’s house and sent it to her on one of Mark’s charter flights. But she hadn’t ever said a word about her mother. Kara was about to ask when Anne spoke.
    â€œOur mother died when I was ten.”
    â€œOh.” Kara wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry.”
    She wanted to continue the conversation, but just then the screen door slammed twice and the babble of voices coming from the dining room sent Anne into a flurry of activity.

D URING THE NEXT FEW WEEKS , the summer weather ignited an explosion of guests. The cabins were booked solid, and there was always something to be done. Twice Kara started to read the book Anne’s father had written, but she had to put it down after only a few paragraphs .
    One afternoon in late July, she actually found time to write Tia.
    Be glad you’re not here. It’s so hot even the lizards are looking for shade! It hasn’t rained in weeks, and everything’s turning a yucky brown. But none of the guests seem to mind. They all lay around the deck getting fried. Pretty dumb, huh?
    Colin had to stop the afternoon trail rides. He does mornings and that’s it. I haven’t seen much of him lately, but he asked if I’d ride with him tomorrow. There’s a couple of really novice riders, and he could use some backup. I can’t believe how psyched I am. I’d really like to go out with him. For real, you know?
    Kara put down her pen. There wasn’t much chance of that. They were way too busy, and there was always a mob of people around. Besides, she knew Dad wouldn’t let her go on a real date. Not until she turned sixteen.
    She addressed the envelope, then slipped into her sandals. If Mark was still at the lodge he could take the letter to Tia now.
    She crossed the empty rec room and opened the front door. One look told her Mark’s plane had gone. She heard the rumble of thunder in the distance, then a flash lit up the eastern sky.
    â€œDry lightning.”
    Anne was standing at the wall of windows in the dining room and staring off across the mountains. She nodded and handed Kara the newspaper Mark had brought in that morning from Lariat. “The devil’s matches.”
    Kara read the headline out loud: “Fire Destroys Wildlife Refuge.”
    Below the caption was a picture of several volunteers herding small animals into cages. A firefighter, his face black with soot, held an injured raccoon.
    Dad walked up behind them. “It’ll get worse unless we get some rain.” He looked at Anne. “I don’t want to frighten either of you, but we need to be careful, even with the barbecue. And we should practice an evacuation plan.”
    For the rest of the week they monitored the radio. So far fires burned in Idaho, California, and southern Oregon, nothing close enough to worry about, but Dad cautioned the guests not to roam too far and told Colin to cancel the trail rides. “It’s too hot for the horses anyway.”
    Kara tried to hide her disappointment, but Anne picked up on it right away. “There will be other rides. This will not last.”
    By the second week in August, the afternoon thunderstorms had stopped, and they had two days of steady rain. Dad turned off the radio. “Fires are under control.”
    â€œWe will have barbecue tonight,” Anne announced as she dug packages of steak out of the freezer.
    â€œAll right!” Ryan raced for the door. “I get to dump the charcoal in the pit.”
    Kara laughed. “Slow down, Ry. We have to dig out the old ashes first.”
    Colin was reaching for his hat. “Can you do that later? The horses need exercise, and I could use some help checking out the trail to Otter Lake.”
    Ryan spun around and planted himself in front of Colin. “I can come.”
    Kara bit her lip and launched a pleading