“Fine. She wants all the paintings I can do.”
He held the stirrup for her to mount. “And she’s dealing fairly with you?”
Noelle swung into the saddle. “She’s compiling an exclusive collection of my work. She has great expectations.”
Under his breath Rick muttered, “I’ll bet.”
Noelle started to argue, then stopped. It was nice for him to be concerned. Destiny had developed a sore tendon, so they hadn’t trained him in days, and she missed their interaction. Destiny’s progress was remarkable, though it now felt as though Rick’s training was directed more at her. “Try to think like a horse,” he’d said the last time they were out. His was a gift, a true empathy toward the animal, and though she tried, she couldn’t break through as he’d done.
Not that she wouldn’t keep trying. It gave her a new focus. Not quite “anything you can do I can do better,” but certainly if Rick could accomplish it, she could too. He had been busy with the new influx of guests, basic equestrian instruction, and long days of horseback tours for nonstaying guests as well. Those could be the most frustrating for him because such riders didn’t have time at the ranch to understand the flow or Rick’s style.
“You were kind to that boy this morning.”
“Peter? He just needed direction.”
Noelle tipped her head. “You’re patient with ignorance.”
He shrugged. “Ignorance can be cured. It’s willfulness that’s hard. He’s a good kid.”
“I don’t know that his mare thought so.”
Rick rested his hand on Aldebaran’s rump. “Well, that’s why I help them improve. Saves the horses discomfort. I don’t think I’ll let him take off on his own, though.”
She didn’t expect he would. Very few of the guests were given the privilege of taking the horses alone. She was grateful for that right, and now she knew and appreciated Aldebaran’s value. The other mares geldings were so docile as to serve well in a trail line but not much fun to direct on her own. The stallions he didn’t rent out, and Orion was Rick’s workhorse.
He mounted him now, gave her a brief touch of his hat, then turned Orion’s head and clicked his tongue. Where was he going? She could have asked to ride with him but didn’t. Except when they worked Destiny, Rick gave no indication he craved her company. So she watched him go, then started off herself. She wanted to paint something small, not grand and sweeping.
The ground crunched beneath the horse’s hooves. She spit the fine chaff that caught in her lips from a gust of wind and searched the landscape for a small vignette to paint quickly. She was determined to paint every day if she couldn’t train Destiny. She noticed a dip filled with rose brambles and columbine. It was unremarkable except for the dry, crumbly cut in the bank above, where hung a shaggy veil of hair-like roots, desperate for moisture. She liked the contrast between that and the shaded columbine and roses, almost a subclimate beneath the parched pine trunks. That would do.
Because of the wind, Noelle held the paper clipped to the easel board in her lap and sat cross-legged on the ground, where she was somewhat sheltered by a boulder and three large pines. The sun was high overhead, shrinking the shadows to nearly nothing. She studied the scene: pale pink petaled flowers, deeper rose buds with curled emerald sepals. She listened to the drone of the bees and the rustle of birds in the tops of the pines.
Noelle caught her breath as a fat-chested mountain chickadee flitted to the springy patch of dusty roots, its black-and-white feathers pristine against the dull brown veil. Even though the bird took wing a moment later, she would include it. She sketched quickly, then used the paints.
The scene proved a good study, and Noelle appraised her effort. This one might have a place in the exclusive collection. And that would make it worth more. She laid the painting across her knees, looked up through the narrowing boughs above her to the sea blue sky, and felt deeply satisfied.
Mr. Vogel, her old art instructor, would be disappointed to have her thinking so prosaically. “Beauty for the sake of beauty.” How many times had he said so? Well, that was fine until you needed to eat and pay the rent—which she managed now with the sales of her work, the rest her cash dwindling. She packed up her supplies and returned to the house.
Orion was in the yard, still saddled, but she didn’t see Rick. She unsaddled Aldebaran and put her into the corral beside the barn. Then she went into the house and placed the painting in tissue to take to the gallery tomorrow. Her room was stifling; at least the gusting wind outside moved the air. She went back out and settled into the porch swing.
Marta’s humming came through the upstairs window like a cat’s constant purr. A honeybee buzzed the asters at the steps. She looked up the long meadow to the base of the mountain, then up the wooded slope and over to the next crag. Something caught her eye, something different, something…
Leaning forward, she stared, squinting in the bright sunlight. “Rick?” she called. He must be close, with Orion standing ready that way.
“In here.”
She hurried to the barn and found him rummaging through a toolbox. “Rick, I think I see smoke.”
He spun. “Where?”
“High on the next mountain over from your crag.”
He strode out, his expression grim. “It’s high, but the wind could drive it down.” He took out a cell phone she hadn’t realized he owned, placed the emergency call, then tucked the phone back into his vest. “I’ve got to get the stallions.”
She pushed the hair out of her face. “Can I help?”
He glanced at Aldebaran in the corral, but she was no longer saddled. “I can manage.” He mounted Orion and galloped off.
As Noelle watched, the puff of white on the mountainside spread up into the flawless blue sky, the orange glow beneath leaving no doubt to its source. She imagined the dry, rust-colored needles bursting into flame. It was far from the pasture, farther still from the ranch—not on Rick’s land, but with a shift in the wind it could be.
Rick returned with Destiny and the stallions in tow. Noelle helped him corral them. The horses nickered and shied as Rick confined them, back-stepping uncertainly. All the animals were agitated, smelling smoke and sensing danger.
Rick led Orion over to where Noelle stood. “I was afraid of this.”
“Is it bad?”
He slapped the dust from his thighs. “After two dry years, the trees are basically tinder.”
“But we’ve had rain.”
“Not enough to raise the sap content in the trunks.”
“Can Juniper Falls fight it? I didn’t see a fire station.”
“It’s a volunteer outfit. But smokejumpers and others’ll come to fight it together.” He turned to remount Orion.
“Where are you going?”
He looked up the mountain. “To check it out. We need to know what we’re up against.”
“But Rick, you can’t—”
“I can at least get close and scout the terrain and conditions. Fire will follow the easiest path in the direction it’s blown.”
A truck with six forest service workers pulled into the yard. A volunteer fire vehicle came directly behind. Noelle backed off as they got out and spoke with Rick. Of course, his ranch would be the most accessible place to mount an attack, from what she’d seen on her jaunts. Above and surrounding the meadows of the ranch were mostly forested slopes, crags, and gullies. The base of the burning peak had a meadow of its own, but getting there would be difficult.
Rick nodded and rejoined Noelle and Marta, who had come out from the house. “They’ve put Juniper Falls on standby to evacuate. If the word comes, you’ll want to pack up your things and be ready to leave within an hour’s time.”
Noelle’s mind staggered. Leave? For where? And how? She had no transportation and nowhere to run. She couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t. Rick put a hand on her shoulder, no doubt reading her concern as he did his animals’.
“It’s just a first alert. That fire needs to c
over a lot of territory for that, and if we catch it now …” His gaze returned to the graying column of smoke.
“Will you leave?”
He shook his head.
A wash of relief. “Then I’m not either. They can’t make me, can they?”
“No, but I can.”
She looked up into his face. Would he? For her safety, she was sure. How could he know she was only safe there at the ranch? Well, she’d find a way to stay. Unless the fire burned down the meadow and headed directly for the house, she was not going anywhere.
“Marta, alert the guests—the Andersalls first, with all those kids. They should pack up right now, just in case.” He turned to Noelle. “If you get the word to move, you and Marta can take her car and head for town. They’ll direct you from there.”
Noelle had no intention of going to town or anywhere else in Marta’s Ford compact, but now was not the time to argue with Rick. “What about the horses?”
“Once I scout out the fire, I’ll worry about that.”
Noelle nodded. As though he could do everything by himself. “Should we soak down the house or something?”
Rick looked at the house, then up the valley. “We’ll play that by ear. I’ve got to go.” He mounted and brought Orion around.
It was true Orion would get up into the area more easily than any motorized vehicle on the ground. How long did it take to organize something like this? The two trucks followed Rick to the uppermost edge of his meadow; then she lost sight of him in the trees but whispered, “Be careful.”
The thought of the flames devouring the brittle grasses and parched bracken, growing and bursting with destructive power, frightened her.
The thought of Rick riding into the midst of it frightened her more. But the thought of leaving was the worst fear of all. She just wouldn’t do it.
Marta drew a single breath. “We need to pray.”
Noelle snapped, “You think prayer can stop a forest fire?”
Marta’s sharp eyes darted from the mountain to her. “God created both the forest and the fire.”
Then why allow one to destroy the other? Noelle watched the fire grow and spread with terrifying speed. Marta headed for the cabins to warn the guests to prepare for evacuation. Noelle refused to believe they would have to leave. If God was such good friends with Rick and Marta, surely …
But what was she thinking? This was nature, not some superstitious hocus-pocus. The training and knowledge of the teams amassing at the top of the meadow would stop the fire, not whispered words to a mythological God.
Another team arrived, and another. They would need a base to support them with food and water at least. Couldn’t she and Marta do that much? That was a reason to stay. A surge of gratitude filled her. Gratitude toward whom?
CHAPTER
14
Under the direction of the smokejumpers, Rick trenched the base of the mountain, creating a dirt line as wide as the tallest trees that might fall. Some with chain saws cut and dragged trees from the natural break they’d chosen. No sense trying to clear the forested land farther up. Those trees would burn. Aspen would regenerate from underground roots. Conifers would have to start over from seed, unless the initial tree survived the burn. Some would if the bark was not burned through.
Until they got air support, they couldn’t fight the worst of the flames, could only hope to contain the spread. Their goal—to trench a line too broad for the fire to jump. The volunteers without gear worked at a greater distance than the smokejumpers, who had parachuted in to begin the containment. Thanks to Noelle’s quick eye, they had gotten to it sooner than many fires of its kind, but already the mountainside crackled and groaned. Inside, Rick groaned as well.
Fire. In the dry years the danger was always high. For the last weeks he’d looked out for it, praying for rain as the state banned campfires and even propane stoves. But this one, it seemed, nature started on its own. The sun’s heat beat down on his back; ash and smoke billowed him with the acrid smell only a wildfire made. Sweat stung his eyes, rolled down the back of his neck, and moistened his hands in his gloves.
High on the mountain, pines blazed like beacons, towers of flame that leapt from treetop to treetop as whole trunks exploded, sending fireballs hundreds of feet. The carpet of pine needles kindled, and fire roared along the ground. Everywhere smoke rolled like a choking fog, and he gasped for clean air even at the fringe. But he dug tenaciously, breaking the ground, clearing it.
One thing in their favor was the wind direction. It took the flames up and away from Juniper Falls. If the direction changed, the valley would form a tunnel the flames would rush through like a blowtorch. His throat constricted at the thought. His land, his home … all gifts. He had to remember that. And the Lord’s will be done. But it was hard to relinquish control, to accept even as he fought.
Lord, all this is yours. I won’t resist if you need to take it. But until then, I’ll fight with all I have. You command the wind and the flame. Help us now. He jammed the shovel into the earth and dug.
Taking a break from their efforts inside, Noelle paced the yard, straining to see progress on the mountain. A slurry bomber passed over, dropping red clouds of water, fertilizer, and fire repellant just ahead of the blaze. Earlier a helicopter with a bucket on a long rope had begun dipping in nearby reservoirs and dropping water into the heart of the flames. But the fire engulfed more and more.
She jumped at the blast that jolted the ground, slapped the crags, and echoed back. Another followed, and fresh clouds of smoke and dust blurred the base of the mountain. The fire fighters must have set those charges themselves. A bulldozer chugged up from the meadow, cutting its own access as it went, making way for water tankers to follow. Would any of it be enough? The sky was a sickening brown, the sun a red orb as it sank behind the peaks.
Where was Rick? What was he doing up there in the smoke and fury? Was he afraid, or did he just trust his invisible God? She went to the porch and watched from the corner. Smoke stung her eyes and nostrils. Ash floated like snow. She tasted it in her teeth. But she stayed outside, waiting to hear, waiting for Rick, and hoping she would not need to leave the ranch. The very thought drained her.
The Andersalls had gone, rather than risk an emergency departure. Both the other families were ready to do the same, though they hadn’t decided to actually check out yet. The Elams from the second cabin stood outside now and watched with her.
A medical team had set up a first aid station in the main room of Rick’s house, as his was the nearest shelter. The smokejumpers had their own camp, but they came down to the house for food and supplies. With help from Red Cross volunteers and people from the town, Marta made sandwiches and kept a steady supply of coffee brewing, along with pitchers of water and bottles of Gatorade for the fire fighters to quench their thirst. Other supplies like sunscreen, lip balm, gloves, and bandanas arrived, and Noelle helped distribute them to fresh teams of fire fighters.
As a pickup truck brought a team down to rest, she went inside to help Marta and the others. This was the smokejumper team, who had been brought in to plan the attack because of the fire’s proximity to developed land and communities. Noelle handed a plate to a woman with a thin blond ponytail clipped up in the back and asked, “How’s it going out there?”
“I’ve seen worse.”
That was encouraging, wasn’t it? “So we won’t be asked to evacuate.”
“If the fire reaches the first trigger point, this whole area will be put on voluntary evacuation. By the second trigger point, it won’t be voluntary.”
“But it’s not moving this way.” Noelle prodded for the assurance she knew the woman could give.
“The conditions could change in a moment. If you’re worried, you should go ahead and find a safer place.”
Noelle’s throat tightened. Did she look so ineffective? This was a woman who flew around the country stabbing the throat of dragons. And Noelle was afraid of leaving the ranch? Why? How had she been p
rogrammed, disabled? She knew how—Daddy’s overprotective sphere and her own nightmares.
The man next to her took the plate Noelle handed him. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Um, have you seen Rick Spencer up there?”
“Is he on one of the teams?”
“This is his ranch. But he’s working on a containment line, I think.”
“He’d be with the volunteers, then.” He glanced at his smokejumper colleague.
She shook her head. “Sorry.” They went to the main room to join their team members, who sprawled and ate and talked through much-needed, though probably too-short, break. Noelle caught bits of their conversation, reminiscences of worst moments they’d faced, fires so massive they created their own weather, even snow—though how that worked she couldn’t imagine. Maybe this one would make it rain.
Noelle went back outside. Rick hadn’t come in to eat or rest. The sun set, smoke-dulled stars appeared, the night grew dark. Emergency teams used the third cabin and the extra rooms to sleep in shifts while others continued their vigilance. Noelle couldn’t sleep, so she dozed on the swing, then woke at the sound of hooves on the gravel. She sat up. Rick slid from the horse and led Orion to the stable. He had to be exhausted and hungry, but it was a while before he emerged. He had taken care of the horse first.
He climbed the stairs, and she jumped to open the door. “Are you all right? What can I get you?”
He just shook his head, went in, and collapsed on the couch. The main room was empty. The Elams and Johnsons had gone to bed, confident they’d be notified of any danger. Though a volunteer waited in the kitchen, Noelle got Rick a roast beef sandwich herself. She poured him a glass of cold water and carried them into the other room.
He took the water and drank. “Thanks.” His voice rasped.
“You went all day without eating.” She held out the sandwich.
“No thanks.” He rubbed his face with grimy hands.
“Marta would scold you into eating something.”
A Rush of Wings Page 17
