Storm Chaser

by Chris Platt

  Jessica pulled out the rubber curry comb and rubbed it in circles across Rusty’s swayed back. The gelding cocked his hind leg and sighed. Jessica lost herself in thought while she swirled the curry over the horse’s body. She knew her aging friend wouldn’t be rideable for much longer. She had overheard her mother and father talking about getting her another horse when they could afford it. She smiled. Maybe it would be that pretty black-and-white filly.

  She closed her eyes, imagining the feel of wind in her hair as she galloped through the valleys on the swift little paint. She’d be able to keep up with Duncan if she were to get the new filly, no problem.

  Rusty blew through his lips, bringing Jessica back from her daydreams. She looked into the old gelding’s soft brown eyes, feeling guilty for even thinking of replacing him. She threw her arms around his neck again, breathing in the warm horse scent, then kissed him on his whiskered muzzle. “We’ll keep riding as long as you feel up to it,” she promised.

  Jessica glanced at her watch. She had just enough time for a quick visit to the corral before she had to wash up for dinner. She put away the brush box and grabbed the last carrot, then headed out the barn door to the large pen that stood on the east side of the barn.

  The young horses tossed their heads and snorted when Jessica approached. They trotted nervously to the other end of the pen and stood with their heads high, their nostrils distended to catch her scent.

  Jessica looked over the fifteen beautifully muscled animals that stood in the corral, pawing the ground and eyeing her suspiciously as they milled about the enclosure.

  Wyatt and Gator, under the guidance of their father, were the horse breeders for the reservation. They knew the animals well and chose their stallions and mares with care. The resulting offspring were perfect examples of American quarter horses and paints. The young horses had broad and well-muscled chests, short strong backs, and powerful hindquarters. Their small, perfectly formed heads had pronounced jaws and kind, intelligent eyes.

  Most of the ranchers in the area owned Lightfoot horses that her father and brother had trained. They proved invaluable for ranch work. Their ability to carry a rider all day and twist and turn sharply to work cattle made them a favorite of local cattle ranchers.

  “Easy, there,” Jessica said. The skittish animals’ ears flicked back and forth at the sound of her voice. Several of the horses pushed deeper into the herd, but the little paint filly took one step forward, her petite muzzle extending to catch a better scent of the carrot Jessica offered.

  She held the carrot out for several minutes, but the filly refused to come any closer. Jessica sighed and tossed the carrot into the pen. The little filly jumped when it hit the ground near her hooves. Jessica backed up a few steps and watched the paint lower her nose to the ground, poking at the carrot before biting off a piece.

  The filly bobbed her pretty head and spit parts of the carrot back onto the ground. Jessica covered her mouth to keep her giggle from spooking the filly. “Don’t worry,” she whispered as she turned toward the house. “Someday you’ll learn to love carrots.”

  She ran across the backyard, covering the distance to the house in no time. At least she had made a connection with the beautiful paint—if only to offer the horse a treat she didn’t like. It was a start.

  The family was just sitting down to dinner when Jessica entered the back door. Already her parents seemed to be in a heated debate. She stopped short. It was unusual to hear her parents argue.

  “Hurry up, Jess,” her father said, noticing her in the doorway. “You’re late.”

  Jessica hurriedly washed her hands and slipped into her spot opposite her brother. Duncan’s blue eyes bounced back and forth between their parents as they discussed turning the Wild Hawk into a guest ranch.

  “I won’t have it,” their father said as he heaped a large portion of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “As long as we can make a living running cattle and selling some of our hay crop, I won’t have strangers staying on my land—cold cash or not.”

  The lights flickered and everyone glanced at the ceiling to see if they would stay on. The wind had picked up heavily and there was no longer a doubt that a major storm was on its way.

  “All right, enough of this conversation,” Mrs. Warner said, handing a plate of chicken-fried steak to Jessica. A loud clap of thunder shook the walls of the house. “Let’s worry about getting dinner eaten before the lights go out. Are all the horses in?” Mrs. Warner asked.

  Duncan nodded, stuffing a big bite of broccoli into his mouth.

  “All except the new horses,” Mr. Warner said. “But they’ve got that big tree that hangs over part of their pen. They can gather under that just like they’d do if they were living wild back on reservation land.”

  “The cattle are in the outer fields,” Mrs. Warner said. “Will they be okay there if the storm hits?”

  Mr. Warner nodded. “They’ll be safe enough. I’m glad they’re not out on the range, or they could spook and scatter all over the mountain. The last time that happened, it took us a month of searching to gather them all up, and we lost a few of them. We can’t afford to lose a single head this year.”

  The meal ended with the din of shutters banging in the high wind and more flickering from the lights. A few drops of rain hit the window, but for the most part, this was a dry storm full of wind, thunder, and lightning.

  When the lights finally went out for good at about nine o’clock, Jessica decided she might as well go to bed early. Her parents weren’t doing a lot of talking after their argument over the guest ranch, and Duncan never was much of a conversationalist.

  “I’m going to check the horses before bed,” she called as she lifted her jacket from the peg in the hallway and pulled on her boots.

  “Be careful,” her mother cautioned. “Would you like your brother to go with you?”

  Jessica shook her head. “I’ll take Shep.” She signaled the Border collie to follow and stepped into the dark, stormy night. Standing on the back porch, she lifted her nose to sniff the air. The wind whipped through her hair, blowing it into a tangle. Jessica loved the pungent smell of the high desert after a light rainfall. It smelled of earth and growing things. She hugged her jacket close to her and ran to the barn.

  When Jessica attempted to open the heavy barn door, she wished she’d brought Duncan instead of the collie. The door screeched on its hinges as the wind caught it, almost dislodging it from its mooring.

  Jessica stepped inside and quickly pulled the door closed. She paused for a moment, listening to the creaks and groans of the old barn as it stood firm in the wind and breathing in the sweet smell of the newly cut hay. She grabbed for the flashlight her father stored near the door and clicked on the light, pointing the thin beam around the enclosure.

  Rusty trotted into the stall from his connected paddock, his eyes rolling wildly in his head. Duncan and her father had locked their saddle horses in, but Jessica had left Rusty a choice, knowing the old gelding became nervous when the wind was high. After a calming word to the horses inside, she stepped out into the storm to check the new stock. Just as her father had predicted, they were all huddled under the overhang of the tree. She couldn’t see the little paint filly at first, but she finally spotted her near the center of the herd.

  When she was sure all of the horses were okay, Jessica secured the barn doors, pushing with all her might as they flopped wildly in the wind. Drops of rain pelted her face and she ran for the house, Shep close at her heels. As she sprinted across the yard, several bolts of lightning flashed across the sky, temporarily turning the night into day. Jessica let out a frightened squeak and flew up the back porch steps and into the house.

  Duncan sat at the table with a lit candle in front of him. He raised a brow and hid a grin as she slammed the door shut behind her. Jessica felt her cheeks color, knowing that her brother must have heard her cry of fright. She punched him good-naturedly on the shoulder, then went to kiss her parents goodnight befo
re going upstairs.

  Between flashes of lightning, she quickly changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up around her neck. She loved Nevada storms, the way the thunder and lightning crackled and rolled, but they scared her too.

  She snuggled deeper into the blankets and worried about the horses. She hoped Rusty decided to sleep in his stall instead of crowding up against the outside barn wall like he usually did. Maybe she should have locked him in like her father and brother had done with their own mounts.

  Lightning continued to illuminate the darkened room. Jessica counted the seconds between the flashes of lightning and the loud claps of thunder. The storm drew closer. She clamped her teeth together to keep from screaming when a particularly loud rumble shook the house. She pulled the covers over her head and tried to block out the sounds of the raging storm. It seemed to continue for hours, thundering and blowing, but after a while, despite her fear, Jessica found her eyes growing heavy.

  She wasn’t sure exactly when she fell asleep, but Jessica woke to the sound of scratching at her door. She lay in bed, trying to get her bearings. Shep whimpered outside her door, then scratched again. She sat up, sniffing at the strange acrid smell in the air. An odd flickering of light cast an eerie glow outside of her bedroom window.

  Jessica slipped from her bed, noting the silence of the night. The storm had passed. She tiptoed across the room and peeked through the curtains, then gasped as her heart tumbled in her chest. The odd glow of light illuminating the night was the orange flicker of flames rising from the old wooden barn. Wild Hawk Ranch was on fire!

  THREE

  Jessica stumbled in the darkness of her room, her heart climbing into her throat. “Mom!” she cried. “Dad! Duncan!” She fumbled for the light switch. Her fingers found the switch and light flooded the room. At least the electricity was back on.

  “What is it, Jess?” Duncan pushed open her door, his eyes sliding to the window where the eerie light flickered in the reflection of the glass.

  “Duncan, get Mom and Dad. The barn’s on fire!” Jessica grabbed her jeans and shirt as her brother’s footsteps pounded down the stairway. Her hands shook so badly she had trouble dressing herself. She shoved one leg into her jeans and shifted off-balance, almost falling to the floor. Dragging the shirt over her head, she ran down the stairs after Duncan.

  Shep barked furiously. Her mother and father were just leaving their bedroom when she reached the bottom of the staircase. “The horses are in the barn!” Jessica cried.

  “Call 911, Jess!” Mr. Warner shouted as he ran across the room. He grabbed his hat off the wall peg and slammed it down tight on his head, shouldering the back door open. “It may be too late for the barn, but we might need the fire department for the house.”

  The house? Jessica felt her stomach turn inside-out and her legs go weak. Her dad was right. They were a long way from town. The barn would probably be gone by the time the fire trucks arrived.

  Duncan grabbed her shoulder to steady her. “Don’t worry, sis, the barn is a ways from here. The house should be okay. I’ll help get the horses out. The cattle will be all right where they are.” He turned and ran out the back door.

  Jessica’s throat squeezed closed. Duncan had just spoken more words in one standing than he’d said all day. That alone told her they were in deep trouble. It would be bad enough losing the barn and next winter’s feed supply, but what would they do if they lost the horses and their house, too? What if she lost Rusty?

  She walked across the floor to the phone, feeling as if she were moving in slow motion. Her feet seemed to be filled with lead. She lifted the receiver and punched in the emergency number. Her hands trembled so much, she wasn’t sure she’d hit the right buttons, but a moment later, the calm voice of the emergency operator spoke up. Jessica gave the woman the information she requested, then hung up the phone and ran to join her family outside.

  When she came face-to-face with the awful reality of the raging barn fire, she froze in her tracks, choking as the wind shifted, blowing the billowing dark clouds of acrid smoke toward them. She rubbed her eyes, trying to peer into the bright flames. How much of the building was on fire?

  Sparks and ash rained down on Jessica while her eyes traced the line of flames. The fire seemed to have started at the back of the stable. A cold sweat dampened her forehead when she realized that the horses were in that part of the barn. And Rusty was one of them!

  Fear roared in her ears, drowning out the awful sound of the crackling pops as the old wooden structure continued to succumb to the voracious fire. “Rusty’s in there!” she screamed, racing forward to open the barn doors.

  Jessica felt strong hands around her waist and her feet lifted off the ground. Her father carried her back and set her none too gently next to her mother. “Stay here,” he commanded. The sound of frightened whinnies floated on the night air as she stared into her father’s worried face.

  “You can’t go in there, Jess!” Mr. Warner yelled over the roar of the spreading flames. “It’s too dangerous!”

  “B-but…the horses…” Jessica stammered.

  Her mother hugged her tightly. “Hush now, Jess,” she said.

  Then a movement over her father’s shoulder caught Jessica’s eye. A black shadow headed toward the front of the barn. She widened her eyes in the darkness, trying to make out the shape.

  The front doors of the barn flew open. Jessica knew her brother was going to try to save the horses. “Duncan!” she cried.

  Mr. Warner’s head snapped around when Jessica shouted her brother’s name. He gave her a look meant to keep her rooted to the spot, then turned and ran toward his son. “Duncan, don’t you go in there!” But it was too late. Duncan’s shadowy form slipped into the burning barn.

  Jessica turned to her mother, seeing fear leap into her eyes. “What do we do?”

  “Grab the hose!” her mother ordered. “I’ll get the one from the outbuilding. We’ll water down the front of the barn so they’ll have a place to come out.”

  Jessica could sense the terror in her mother’s words even though her voice remained calm and steady. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her own fears. She had to be brave, too. Her brother’s and father’s lives could very well depend on it. She hurried to the faucet and turned the water on full, then stretched the hose to the front of the barn, aiming the spray at the opening.

  “Somebody’s coming,” Mrs. Warner nodded toward the long dirt road that led to their property.

  Jessica saw the wildly bouncing headlights as the vehicle came pell-mell up the bumpy road. “I think it’s the Lightfoots coming to help,” she said.

  “Good,” Mrs. Warner directed her spray of water toward the barn. “I just hope the fire department gets here soon.”

  Jessica could hear the frightened neighs of the horses trapped in the barn. Her heart went out to them. What if they were too scared to leave the barn? But she knew her father and brother. They would find a way to bring the horses out safely. She chewed at her bottom lip, praying her father and Duncan were okay.

  Another terrified whinny pierced the night and Jessica immediately recognized it. Rusty!

  “Don’t worry, honey.” Mrs. Warner laid a reassuring hand her daughter’s shoulder. “Duncan and your father will get all the horses out.”

  Tires skidded on gravel as the old blue pickup braked to a halt and Wyatt, Gator, and their father jumped from the vehicle to help.

  “Thank goodness!” Mrs. Warner cried. “Jake and Duncan are in the barn, trying to get the horses out. We’re keeping the doorway watered down so they’ll be able to make it out.” She stared at the building that was now half in flames. “We’ll have to hurry. That roof won’t hold out much longer.”

  Gator took the hose from Mrs. Warner. “Why don’t you get a couple of blankets we can wet down in case the guys need them when they come out?” He peered into the roaring inferno. “If they’re not out in another minute, my dad and I will go in after
them.”

  Mrs. Warner grabbed the young boy by the arm. “Gator, I can’t let you and your father risk it. There are already two men in there. It’s too dangerous to send anyone else in.” She jumped as the barn creaked and several boards from the loft broke through to the bottom floor in a flurry of sparks and flames. “They’ll be out soon, I know it!”

  A siren wailed in the distance. Everyone turned to see flashing red lights making steady progress toward the ranch.

  “The fire engines are coming!” Wyatt hollered over the roar of the fire.

  Just then a shout erupted from the barn. “Stand clear!” Mr. Warner’s voice rang out. “One horse coming out!”

  The small crowd outside the barn scattered as Mr. Warner’s big bay bolted from the barn, his eyes rolling in terror as he raced away from the burning building. A moment later, the two men emerged from the barn. Duncan led his blindfolded horse while his father pushed from behind. The panicked animal stumbled through the doorway, making it forty feet from the barn before collapsing onto his side in the grass, his breath coming in great, labored gasps.

  With her family safe, Jessica’s spirits soared. But her eyes quickly scanned the confusion, looking for the last horse. “Where’s Rusty?” she cried.

  The fire engines roared into the driveway, sending up a cloud of dust that mingled with the heavy smoke from the burning barn.

  “Is everyone accounted for?” the first firefighter on the scene asked, signaling his men to unroll the large hoses.

  “We’re all okay,” Mr. Warner answered.

  Jessica took several steps toward the barn. “My horse!” she screamed. “Rusty is still in the barn!” Fear seized her, choking the breath from her body. She couldn’t let Rusty die like that. She took several more steps, feeling a blast of hot air as several more boards from the loft crashed to the main floor, bringing down burning bales of hay in a shower of sparks.

  “Jessie!” Duncan grabbed her from behind, picking her up and carrying her backward. “Rusty wouldn’t come out, Jess. He was too scared.” Duncan broke into a coughing fit, doubling over and resting his hands on his thighs. When the fit passed, he raised his soot-covered face to his sister. “I tried my best, Jess, but he wouldn’t go through the barn.”