by Deb Kastner
He slides back down the ravine to rescue the woman. He knows it’s not safe to try to move an injured person, but the car is still on fire. Do cars explode in real life like they do in movies?
He doesn’t know. Can he wait, not knowing for sure?
The police are almost here. The fire department. Paramedics. They will know what to do.
But the fire.
The fire.
“Ma’am?” he yells. “Can you walk, if I help you?”
She nods and mumbles something in his ear but he can’t understand her. Reaching under her shoulder, he supports her while she climbs out of the car. He walks her step by careful step up the embankment.
She’s repeating something over and over, but the rain washes the sound away.
“What?” He leans closer.
“My baby. My baby.”
A baby. Is there a baby in the car? Or is she talking about the little boy?
He slides down the hill and forces himself into the backseat of the car. The storm is dark. There is no moon. He searches blindly with his hands for another child.
The engine explodes. The car lists and then overturns. Jax is flung forward, rolling over the backseat and into the front. His head strikes something hot. The last thing he remembers before passing out is the searing pain of skin on hot metal.
“Jax!” Faith was pulling on his arm, desperately trying to get his attention. He didn’t know how long his shock had lasted. A few moments at least. “Do you see it? The fire?”
He nodded. The grass fire looked to be somewhere around the third meadow, probably caused by lightning. It might be hampered by the rain, but it was a real threat nonetheless. Fires like this could flare out of control within minutes.
And fire was Jax’s worst nightmare come to life.
“What should we do?” Faith asked, wringing her hands. “I’ll call 911 as soon as I get back in the barn.”
“Yes, that should be the first order of business. I think the fire department should be able to take care of this grass fire fairly easily, but fire is a tricky thing. It’s unreliable and has a mind of its own.”
Unconsciously, he ran a finger across the scar on his face.
“Oh, Jax.” She laid her hand on his scarred cheek and then hugged him fiercely.
“I’m fine. Look, we’ve got the rain in our favor. I’ll get the Bobcat going. I don’t know how much trenching I’ll be able to do but every little bit helps, to keep the fire from crossing the line and destroying more of your land. And if you can find me a shovel, that will help, too.”
“Should I go with you?”
“No. You need to look after the horses. Take Alban and see if you can find the herd and drive them into the corral. They’ll be frightened so they may be more difficult than usual, but I know you can do it. It’s time to prove your skills, Faith. The horses are going to be pretty stressed. Do whatever you can to keep them calm so you can get them where it’s safe.”
Faith stepped inside the barn and pulled out her phone, speaking with a 911 operator at the same time she retrieved a shovel for Jax.
He had the Bobcat running by the time she returned. He couldn’t tell whether the moisture on her face was from the rain or from tears. He wiped her cheeks with his palms and kissed her forehead.
“Your horses will be fine, Faith. And don’t worry. I’ll save as much of your property as I can.”
She squeezed him so hard he lost his breath.
“I don’t care about my stupid land,” she said with a sob. “Promise me you’ll stay safe. Promise me, Jax.”
He framed her face with his hands. “We’ll get through this, Faith. Together. God didn’t bring us this far to leave us hanging now.”
She nodded and set her jaw in determination. “Go.”
He hopped into the Bobcat and made it about five feet before he stopped the vehicle again. He strode back to where Faith was still standing and kissed her long and hard.
“I love you.”
She placed a palm on his cheek. “Go.”
This time he continued down the road on the Bobcat, wishing the vehicle went faster. His good ear strained to hear anything above the roll of the storm and the hum of the engine, trying to make out the sound of stray horses or the sirens of rescue vehicles.
But all he could hear was his own ragged breathing cutting up the night air, growing shorter and more rapid as he drove closer and closer to the one fear he could never quite overcome.
He might not be able to do much to save the land, but he refused to quit now. He would fight with everything in him and do whatever he could. Faith had worked too hard to lose it all now.
And he wasn’t going to allow himself to think about what would happen afterward.
He had declared his love for her, which had surprised him as much as it must have done her. She hadn’t said she loved him back. He refused to be crushed by that knowledge. She had good reason to guard her heart. He hadn’t yet offered her anything permanent and stable that she could trust, that she knew she would be able to depend on forever.
But he would—even if he had to walk through fire to do it.
* * *
Faith spent more time than she should have watching Jax leave, bobbing down the road in the little tractor. Courageous didn’t even begin to describe his efforts, heading off to face his worst fears straight on.
She didn’t have that strength. She had waited until Jax was back in the Bobcat before she’d whispered her own vow—
“I love you, too.”
There was no way he could have heard it, and that was for the best.
She shook her head to regain her focus and ran back into the barn to grab her horse. She didn’t bother tacking Alban up. She bridled him as fast as she could and mounted bareback. It would be a slick, dangerous ride in the pouring rain, especially in the dark, but she had to make sure her horses were safe and there was no time to spare.
She clicked her tongue and urged Alban into a gallop as soon as she had passed through the corral gate. She wished she’d thought to bring a flashlight, but she wouldn’t have wanted to take the time to run back to the house to try to find one. She wasn’t even sure she owned a flashlight.
Yet another mark on her record. Her learning curve was atrocious.
The storm clouds covered whatever moon there might have been, but the sky lit up with lightning often enough for her to find her way. She knew her property like the back of her hand, so even in the dark she felt confident in her direction.
Hearing the frightened nicker of a horse nearby, she pulled up, trotting toward the east fence where she thought she’d heard the sound.
She suspected it would take her a long time to round up all the horses, especially if they’d spooked and scattered. She prayed none of them had been caught up by the fire.
And she especially prayed for Jax, who had put himself directly in the path of those dreadful flames, just to help her. The physical part of it was bad enough without considering the fight of his life he was probably battling inside his head.
She’d seen his expression when he’d first caught sight of the fire, and she’d recognized the way his gaze faded into the past.
She’d lost him for a good minute as he’d probably relived the horrors of his accident. And now he was facing a fire again. A different sort of fire, and hopefully not one that would put him in personal danger, but as he’d said, flames were unpredictable and could take on a life of their own.
What if Jax got caught up out there?
If something happened to him, she would never forgive herself. He already had enough scars—inside and out—to last him a lifetime.
He had to stay safe. He’d told her he loved her, and she knew he didn’t take those words lightly. It was hard for her to believe she’d eve
n heard him right.
But she couldn’t afford to think about that at the moment. His declaration had caught her completely off guard, and it had probably surprised him, as well. It would take her whole mind, body, soul and spirit to work through all the implications.
Right now she needed to keep her head in the game. She had to save her horses and hopefully most of her land.
The sky lit up, and she saw a flash of silver moving in the distance near the east fence in the second meadow, right near where she’d thought she’d heard the sound of horses. The area was about as far away from the fire as the horses could get without access to the corral.
Fuego.
She nudged Alban forward, happy to see her herd’s stallion safely out of the way of the fire, even if she wasn’t entirely certain he would take her direction to get back to the corral. She wasn’t sure she possessed that skill level yet.
But she was all Fuego had, and she would have to be enough.
As she drew nearer she realized it wasn’t just Fuego but her entire herd huddled together, with nearly every last horse present and accounted for.
Thank You, Lord.
Performing a quick head count, she realized there was only one horse missing, and she wasn’t immediately sure which one. She wouldn’t have time to do a full equine roll call until she had them all locked safe in the corral.
Fuego was running around the outside perimeter of the herd, neighing and snorting and keeping his mares and foals all together.
“Well done, Fuego,” she said, although she wasn’t sure he could hear her voice over the sound of the wind and rain.
Now was the hard part—communicating to the wild horses that they needed to be moved to the corral for their own safety until the fire was extinguished and they could return to the land.
If Fuego bucked her authority, the others would most certainly follow his lead.
She gritted her teeth. If that was the case, then she couldn’t let him challenge her.
She adjusted her reins and pulled up beside Fuego, holding out her free hand for him to sniff. She could see the whites of his eyes and realized how close he was to spooking. His grunting was just short of frantic.
She held her breath and ran her palm down his neck. “It’s okay, boy. We’ve got this all under control. You and I have to get your mares and foals to safety. You know that, right, Fuego? This is your band. It’s up to you.”
She didn’t possess Jax’s lyrical voice, but Fuego pricked his ears and tossed his head, making snorting noises that almost sounded like speech.
“All right, then. Let’s go.” She rode to the back of the herd and waved her hands in large back-and-forth motions. “Let’s go. Let’s go now.”
She weaved Alban back and forth a few times and managed to get the herd trotting in the right direction. Fuego seemed to be leading, although he occasionally swung around to urge a straggling colt or mare along.
They made surprisingly good progress, and it wasn’t long before they crossed into the first meadow. Now was the hard part. The corral gate didn’t have a big enough opening to accept all the horses at once, and she didn’t have any help to keep them in any sort of line. She’d have to herd in a few at a time and hope the others didn’t wander away.
But it turned out she did have help, after all. As she worked, Fuego watched over the rest of his band, keeping them together in a loose circle. It was almost as if he understood what she was doing and he was working with her.
It took her a few minutes, but she was finally ready for the last three horses—Willow and Pilgrim, the first two horses she’d received at Untamed, and Fuego himself.
But when she turned to herd them through the gate, only Willow and Pilgrim remained.
Fuego was gone.
Chapter Nine
Jax stood with his back against the Bobcat and watched the Serendipity Fire Department put out the last of the flames. Though he was standing in the rain, sweat drenched his forehead and salt stung his eyes. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, making the smoke look like a misty haze instead of the deadly threat it had felt like last night.
He’d used the small tractor to create as long of a trench as he could and as fast as possible to keep the fire from spreading. He had continued to help once the fire department arrived, but by the end of the night he could see what little good it had done. Despite his best efforts, Faith had still lost close to a hundred acres of grazing turf to the fire. It made him sick to think about.
Chief Jenkins, the fire chief, assured him that if it hadn’t been for his efforts, the damage might have been a whole lot worse.
Jax wasn’t satisfied with that answer. The damage was bad enough, and it would set Faith back substantially. If he’d been able to move faster, or if he had carved his trenches closer to the base of the fire...
“I’m going to drive the Bobcat back and check on Faith and the herd,” he told Chief Jenkins, who shook his hand.
“You did well, Jax. We appreciate your efforts. The department will finish up things here, and then I’ll come up to the house and let Faith know how things stand.”
“Thanks for all you’ve done. I know Faith will want to express her gratitude, as well.”
The Bobcat moved at a snail’s pace, unlike the previous evening when it seemed to carry him to the fire much faster than he could handle. His heart had been beating out of his chest last night, trying to get to the fire and stop it from attacking Faith’s property even as every instinct in his body told him to get as far away from the flames as he could. Now his heart was aching even worse, knowing he had to tell her the bad news about the destruction of her land before Captain Jenkins beat him to it. Better that the information come from a friend than from the fire chief.
He wondered not for the first time how Faith was handling dealing with the herd. He had every belief in her abilities. He just hoped she was aware of how good she was.
He hadn’t seen her since they’d split the evening previous, nor had he spotted any stray horses lingering around, so he hoped all had gone well in that regard.
At least God had seen fit to save the house. And hopefully all the horses.
And most important of all, Faith herself.
He’d meant what he’d whispered into her ear the night before. It wasn’t some kind of disaster declaration, made only because of adrenaline and the drama of the moment.
He was in love with her. It had started the moment she bid on him at the auction, even if it had only been because she felt a backward sense of compassion for his sorry mug. She’d been by his side through every catastrophe since then—one after another—and they’d had a few beautiful moments, too, such as the times they’d spent together with the twins and the incredible kiss they’d shared.
He’d grown used to having her in his life, helping her with her burdens and letting her help with his, being by her side, enjoying the way she offered up her own brand of strength and compassion, whether he asked for it or not. She was always there for him, no matter what.
And he wanted to be there for her, to protect her, provide for her and love her with his whole heart. If she’d let him, he wanted to take the savings he’d earned over the years as a horse trainer and partner with her to make Untamed everything she imagined it could be, and then some. If it was in his power, he wanted to make her dreams come true.
He also wanted to give her a family no one could take away from her—the family she’d always dreamed of. Wanted to fully entrust to her the care and love of Violet and Rose, giving her the opportunity to open her heart up to the children she’d longed for, completely without fear. He wouldn’t be opposed to hearing the pitter-patter of even more little feet somewhere in the future, babies with Faith’s hazel eyes and sweet smile.
He wanted to give her the world.
But was she willing to accept it from him? Did fear have too strong a hold on her heart for her to consider opening it to him? She didn’t seem to want to fall in love again—and who was he to change her mind? A battered, scarred wreck of a man. But a man who loved her with all his heart. Would that be enough?
With nowhere else to turn, Jax decided to hand the situation over to God. When he’d become a father, it had given him a whole new outlook as to who God was as a Father, and Jax found himself turning to the Lord more often for help and guidance.
He prayed now as he drove, asking God for all the right words to express the feelings in his heart. All of this meant nothing if he couldn’t convince her she could trust him with her heart, if she couldn’t finally lay her past to rest and realize she could truly hope for the future with him and the twins.
He of all people knew how hard it was to keep the past in the past, especially since his past seemed to keep popping back up in his life. But he also knew he couldn’t let fear keep him from living his life to the fullest.
Last night Faith hadn’t shared his sentiment, or at least she hadn’t said the words aloud. It was his own fault that he’d picked the least opportune moment possible to make such a declaration.
His hopes were sky-high as he approached the ranch house, but he also felt as vulnerable as he’d ever been in his entire life. Faith was a kind woman, but even a compassionate rejection might be more than he could handle right now.
He was tired of hiding from life for fear of rejection. And Faith held that in the palm of her hand. If she didn’t love him, then so be it. He would have to try to find satisfaction in being her friend. And he would keep trying to earn her trust and respect.
Just as long as she stayed in his life.
He spotted her long before she saw him. She was leaning against the corral fence, speaking to the horses. Alban’s back was bare and his reins loosely tied to the fence.
At first glance it looked as if she’d managed to round up the entire herd. He was impressed with her skills, but then, he’d known she could do it. Even in the dark, and even in the pouring rain. When she set her mind on something, she accomplished it.
