by Kim Redford
He passed the road leading to the house and continued toward the barns and outbuildings on a rise to the east. He could see the fire was eating at the horse barn, but no cowboys were in sight, which meant they were out in the pastures. They’d have seen the smoke and would be making their way back as quickly as possible. He knew there was no point in trying to contact them, since they had no phone reception out there. He could only hope they arrived soon, along with Slade and Sydney.
For the moment, he and Fern were the first and only line of defense. He wouldn’t be able to put out the fire, so the best he could do was try and contain it. If sparks hit the hay rolls stacked nearby, the dry grass would go up in flames and spread to other structures. And if he didn’t get that fire under control, it would blaze a trail impossibly fast up to the house. At that point, there wouldn’t be much of the ranch left except the land. And that was totally unacceptable.
When he neared the horse barn, he groaned at the sight of fire licking up the south wall as it sent black smoke spiraling high into the sky. He hit the brakes, not about to get close enough to endanger the truck in case they needed it for a fast exit. He hated to even think about the expensive ranch equipment in the nearby shop or the cow barn or… He stopped his thoughts. He had to focus and focus fast or risk losing it all.
“What do you want me to do?” Fern clenched her hands in her lap but looked ready to leap in any direction he named for her.
“Two canisters are in back. If you’ll get those, I’ll pull more out of the shop and meet you at the barn.” He took the jacket and pants from her. “But whatever you do, don’t put your life in danger. Nothing is worth losing you.”
She leaned toward him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Same to you. I’m not about to lose you now.”
He opened the door, stepped out, and heard the sound of horses kicking the doors of their stalls and neighing in agitation. He froze in horror for just a second before he changed his plans.
“Fern, get the blankets and towels.” He quickly pulled on the pants, jerked on the jacket, and slipped on the gloves. He needed headgear, so he opened the back door, grabbed his hard hat, and slapped it on his head. His cowboy boots would do to protect his feet and ankles, so he was as ready as he was going to get.
“What?” She looked at him in confusion for just a second before she glanced toward the barn, obviously hearing the horses. That galvanized her. She leaped out, jerked open the back door, grabbed the blankets and towels, then ran around to him.
“I still need you to bring the cans.”
“You can’t go into that burning barn.”
“I won’t leave the horses. The structure isn’t fully engulfed, so there’s still time.” He took the blankets and towels from her.
“Please, no…if anything—”
“Go get the cans. I want you to stand guard outside, so if anyone arrives you can send them in to help. If it looks like I’m going to get trapped in there, try to spray me an exit through the flames.”
“Oh, Craig, this makes me sick.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then took off running. Not that he could outrun a fire, but if he could get through the open double barn doors before the blaze spread to the interior, he could win this one. He hoped.
He skidded to a stop just inside the barn. He could smell hay, feed, and leather above the rising stench of smoke. And he could hear the horses. He ran down the center aisle, checking each stall as he went, thanking his lucky stars every time he found an empty one.
In the center, he found Sheba, a wild-eyed buckskin mare, kicking and neighing in a desperate attempt to escape the coming fire. He didn’t want to do it, but he left her there. He had to know how many horses were located in which stalls in case the smoke got so thick it cut down visibility. If he could do it, no animal would be left behind. Across from the mare, a sorrel gelding named Winston put his head over the door to his stall and nickered for help.
He wanted to stop and reassure both horses, but he continued to the end of the barn, checking inside each stall in case a mount was down and couldn’t be seen otherwise. He was relieved to find only the two horses. He could handle that small a number, but at the same time, he heard the roar of the fire getting closer and the stench of smoke getting stronger. He was losing visibility due to the thickening air and was having trouble catching his breath. He could drop to his knees and get better oxygen, but the horses couldn’t do it…not if they were to get out of the barn. He had almost no time left to bring them out alive.
He draped the two towels around his neck and dropped the blankets to the floor. He ran back to Winston, grabbed his halter with one hand, and opened the door with the other. He led the horse out of the stall, not taking the time to cover his eyes and hoping it wasn’t a mistake. As he passed Sheba, she neighed and kicked the door, determined not to be left behind in the burning barn.
He coughed as he headed out, leading Winston, lowering his head to get more oxygen and better vision, but it didn’t help much to relieve the growing problem. Winston shied, nickered, and bumped his shoulder with his nose, but the horse remained fairly calm all the way to the entrance. Once outside, Winston threw up his head, prancing sideways, wanting to escape, but Craig stayed in control as he led the horse away from the barn and to a nearby corral where he opened the gate and shooed Winston inside.
“Craig! Are you okay?” Fern ran up to him, carrying a canister in each arm. “Is that the only horse?”
“No. I’m going back for one more.”
“You can’t. Look at the fire.”
He glanced around. From outside, it looked even worse than from inside. Flames were spreading fast, licking toward the barn entry.
“Hedy called me. The rig will be here soon. Please wait.”
“Can’t. I won’t leave Sheba in there to die…not while I have breath in my body.”
“Okay. I understand. But I’ll stay near the entrance with the cans.” Fern followed him until she stopped at a safe distance.
He ran back into the barn. Smoke was thick now. Flames were licking around the entry. Sheba was frantic, neighing as she tried to kick her way out of the stall. No way would he lose her, but the barn was already a lost cause. All the hay, feed, and wood would feed the flames like throwing gasoline on the building.
He bent low to get more oxygen as he held the towels over his nose. Visibility was so limited he couldn’t depend on eyesight any longer. Instead, he ran a hand down the row of stalls, feeling the wood, counting doors as he made his way to Sheba. She was wild by the time he reached her. He wasn’t sure if he could control her, so he reached up and let her smell his hand. That seemed to help a little, because she recognized him. He stroked up her nose, feeling her shiver in fear, but he had no time to do more for her. They had to get out and get out now.
He unlatched the door to her stall but didn’t open it as he grasped her halter with one hand while he wrapped the towels around her eyes with the other. And all the while, his eyes were burning, tears streaming from them as he struggled to get enough oxygen to stay on his feet.
He eased open the gate as he backed up slowly, hoping to keep her calm enough so she didn’t knock him down. She jerked up her head, almost pulling the halter out of his hands, but he hung on and headed back the way he’d come. Now he could see light at the entry, but it was cold comfort because it was the bright orange-red of a raging fire.
And in that instant, he heard the shrill siren of a Wildcat Bluff Fire-Rescue booster with a 250-gallon water tank getting closer and closer.
Chapter 26
In despair, Fern sprayed the last chemical out of her second canister on the burning boards around the barn’s entry, even as she knew it couldn’t stop the fire from closing off Craig’s exit, but it was all she had left to save him…until she heard the booster’s siren.
She whirled around, hope springing ali
ve in her heart. She’d never been so glad to see a sight in her life as the bright red rig with siren wailing rocket up the road toward her. If anybody could save Craig, it was the volunteer firefighters of Wildcat Bluff.
She hurried to one side, breathing hard and fast, as if she took in enough oxygen, she could somehow get it to Craig through her own lungs—she knew he had to be only moments away from falling unconscious beside his beloved horse. And she couldn’t stand the thought.
When the booster stopped in a cloud of dust near the front of the barn, Slade and Sydney—dressed in protective, yellow firefighter turnout gear—leaped out and ran to Fern.
She pointed toward the barn’s entrance. “He’s in there, trying to get Sheba out.”
“How long?” Slade demanded, blue eyes flashing determination.
“Too long.”
“I’ll get Craig,” Slade said. “You two pump and roll.”
“I don’t know how.” Fern felt horrible that she didn’t know enough to help save Craig or the barn. When this was over, she was going to train as a volunteer firefighter.
“I’ll show you.” Sydney grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the back of the booster.
“No.” She dug in her heels. “I don’t care if the barn burns. I just need to see that he’s safe and in my arms.”
“Right.” Slade exchanged an understanding look with his sister. “Sydney, start without me. Fern, you come with me.”
Slade grabbed an SCBA tank with compressed air in a backpack that he slipped on and adjusted over his shoulders. He let the face mask dangle in front as he headed for the barn.
Fern kept up with him, feeling more alarmed by the moment because Craig still hadn’t come out.
“Stay back here.” Slade stopped and gave her a hard look. “I’ll bring him out. And the horse, too, if I can.”
“Thank you. Stay safe.”
“Always.” He gave her a nod before he pulled on the face mask. He took long, purposeful strides to the barn, where he passed through the burning entrance into the darkness beyond and disappeared from sight.
She clenched her fists, shivering all over as she waited…and waited…and waited. Everything intensified around her, as if she were straining all her senses to pick up Craig’s heartbeat which she couldn’t possibly do. Instead, she heard Sydney stretch out the hose from the pumper, crows caw to each other in the pasture, the horse rub against the gate inside the corral, and above and beyond all the normal sounds came the hissing, crackling, roaring of the raging fire.
And finally—after what seemed like an aeon—Slade emerged from the inferno, slowly but surely leading a blindfolded buckskin that threw up her head, sidling, shying, trying to break free so she could run away, but he held her firmly with two hands as he brought her away from the fire.
Fern felt her breath catch in her throat. Sheba was alive, but where was Craig? Had Slade been too late to save him, so he’d brought out the only living entity in the barn? Tears burned her eyes. She had no reason to hang back now. If Craig was still in there, she was going to bring him out herself, no matter what it took to do it.
She launched her body toward the barn, but Slade jerked down his face mask before he caught her with one arm and held her back.
“Fern, I’ve got him!”
She was so focused on the blaze that at first she didn’t understand what he was saying to her. “Here?”
“Check the horse’s back,” Slade said. “Craig couldn’t walk, so…”
She didn’t hear anything else he had to say as she ran around him. Craig lay facedown across the back of Sheba, but he was so very, very still that she felt her heartbeat thud hard in her throat from anxiety.
“He’s alive,” Slade said. “Come on. Help me.” He walked the buckskin over to the corral, removed her blindfold, and led her through the gate. He gently lifted Craig from the horse’s back, carried him out of the gate, closed it behind them, and carefully laid Craig on the ground.
She knelt beside him, brushing sweat-wet hair back from his soot-encrusted face. He blinked, looking up at her in confusion. And then her tears came, running down her cheeks in relief that he was still with her.
“Fern, let me help him. Get back,” Sydney called.
She glanced up to see Sydney barreling toward her with a bright red, soft-sided emergency case with an oxygen tank and mask inside slung by a strap over one shoulder. She also carried a bottle of water.
Fern moved back slightly to make room, but she still kept a hand on Craig’s shoulder.
Sydney quickly covered Craig’s nose and mouth with a mask. “Let’s keep him on oxygen till he comes around. As soon as he can do it, get him to sip water. He’s dehydrated from the heat.” She held out the water.
Fern gladly took it, anxious to help Craig any way she could to help him quickly recover. “His lungs?”
“Don’t know yet.” Sydney stood up. “Watch him. If you see his condition worsen, call me over. For now, Slade and I need to contain the fire.”
“Do you want me to ask Hedy for backup?”
Sydney glanced up and assessed the situation. “No. We can handle this fire with the booster, but the barn’s a lost cause.”
“That’s okay.” She rubbed Craig’s chest, then looked at the two horses. “We got what’s important out of it.”
“Right.” Sydney stood up.
“You’re okay.” Fern smiled at Craig as he opened his eyes. “You’re fine. The horses are fine. We’re all fine.”
He appeared as if he wanted to speak, but she shook her head to remind him to remain calm and still so he could recover.
“In a little bit, if you feel up to it, I’ll help you sit and you can sip water. For now, please just relax and breathe the oxygen.”
He gave her a slight nod, then glanced toward the barn.
“I regret to tell you, but it looks like a total loss.”
He looked toward the ranch house.
“Sydney says they can contain the fire, so the only building you’ll lose is the barn. I know it’s not good, but it’s not the worst it could be.”
He nodded again, then closed his eyes, taking deep breaths.
She rubbed his chest with the palm of her hand. “Please…please don’t ever do that to me again. I can’t tell you how scared I was when you didn’t come out of there.”
He slowly sat up, leaned back against the white wood slates of the fence, and pulled down the mask. He jerked off his gloves, then raised a hand and rubbed the tears from under her eyes.
She grasped his hand and pressed a soft kiss to the palm.
“Sorry I worried you,” he finally rasped as he cupped her face with long fingers, smiling at her.
“I know, but oh my…” She couldn’t speak for a moment as emotion welled up in her. “You did save the horses. I’m proud of you.”
“My concern,” he started to say, then stopped and massaged his throat.
“Oh, I forgot.” She cracked the bottle of water and held it out to him.
He took several small sips, then swallowed. “My concern is…I might not be able to sing at Wild West Days.”
“Oh, Craig, don’t give it another thought.”
“But—”
“You’re alive and well. That’s all that matters.”
“I can still play…my guitar.” He sipped more water.
“Yes, you can, but please don’t think about it now.”
“Okay.” He smiled as he looked at the rig. “Is that all they could spare me?”
She chuckled, realizing he had to be feeling pretty much himself if he was going to give the firefighters a hard time about sending nothing but the booster. “That’s all you asked for and you know it.”
“Yeah. I can still rib them later, can’t I?”
“I suppose they’ll even expect it.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “It looks like they’re getting the blaze under control. Will they have enough water in the rig?”
“Sure.” He sipped more water. “I knew we wouldn’t need the tanker. That’s best for a really big job.”
“Your barn looks like a really big job to me.”
“I know, but they’re containing it. In a minute, I’ll get up and help them.”
She put a hand on his chest again. “No. We’re either going to the emergency room in town or putting you straight to bed.”
He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “I opt for going straight to bed.”
She just shook her head at him. “Sleep is what I had in mind.”
“It’s not on mine.”
“Really. How are you feeling?”
“Better all the time.” He put the mask to his face, took several deep breaths, and then glanced at the barn. “I admit it was close, but I knew the booster was on its way. It’s just that the fire was faster.”
“Aren’t they always?”
“Seems that way.”
She turned back to watch Slade and Sydney laying down a line of water defense that appeared to be bringing the fire completely under control. As if they’d heard her thoughts, Sydney jogged over while Slade continued his water bombardment.
“We’re about done,” Sydney said.
“Looks like you’re doing good. I think I can help now.” Craig made as if to get up.
“No you don’t. It’s pretty much contained.” Sydney glanced over her shoulder, then back again. “Slade’s finishing up. And don’t worry about later. We’re both staying the night to make sure that fire doesn’t break loose again.”
“The cowboys will be back soon, so they could keep an eye out.”
“You know better.” Sydney gave him a dismissive look. “We have the equipment and know-how. We’re not leaving till it cools off.”
“Thanks.” Fern patted Craig’s chest again. “Do you think I should run him to Wildcat Bluff to the clinic?”
Sydney cocked her head to the side, considering Craig. “How do you feel?”
