“Can I make it back to town?” Tori, in her black court suit and stiletto pumps, was already headed for the door.
“If the fire’s jumped the main road, you could be driving right into it,” Will said. “You’ll be better off coming with us to the Rimrock.”
She looked stricken. “Erin—”
“She’ll be all right. Call her before she hears about it. Tell her not to worry.”
“I’ll come with you folks.” Reverend Sykes was in his sixties but still fit and active. “Since Tori was the one who gave me a lift, I can’t get back either. Might as well make myself useful.”
Beau was already outside. They could hear his vehicle starting up. Sky stood with Lauren, knowing he had to leave, too. “Go,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”
“You can’t stay here,” he said. “If the fire comes this way, this old wooden house will go up like a torch. Go with Clawson to the syndicate headquarters. There’ll be plenty of water there and people who can evacuate you if it comes to that. I’ll have my hands full with the horses. I can’t be worrying about you, too. Promise me you’ll stay safe.”
“I will.” She took his hand and squeezed it hard. “And you stay safe, too. Now go.”
I love you, Lauren. Sky felt the words, but this wasn’t the time or the place to speak them. All he could do was tear himself away from her and race outside to his truck.
The reverend piled in beside him. Through the row of tall Lombardy poplars that formed a wind break around the house, they could see columns of smoke rising against the hot, blue sky.
“Looks like a big one,” Reverend Sykes said. “Too big.”
“Any fire’s too big.” Sky stuck the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine made a clicking sound and died. Sky swore and tried again. This time the engine coughed, turned over, and started. Sky revved the motor to give it plenty of gas and charge the battery. The truck shot across the yard toward the road.
“Sounds like maybe a low battery or a bad solenoid,” the reverend said.
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to replace both. But who’s got time these days?” Sky used one hand to drive and the other to call the cowhand he’d left in charge of the horses. “Start loading them up and trucking them out,” he told the man who answered. “Mares and foals first. Like we talked about.”
“Got it. Trailers are hitched up and coming around now,” the man answered.
“Thanks, I’m on my way.” Sky ended the call. When he’d gone over the evacuation plan with the hands, he’d never imagined how soon that plan would have to be carried out.
Reverend Sykes gazed at the smoke through the open window. “Don’t see any sign of air support yet,” he said. “I heard tell there’s a big blaze down south of here. Maybe that’s where the planes and choppers are.”
“Well, until they come, I guess we’re on our own.” Sky swung onto the turnoff to the Rimrock, tires squealing in a cloud of dust.
“Are you scared, Sky, when you think of what could happen?”
“Scared?” Sky eased off on the gas as the house and barns came into sight. “Hell—excuse me, Reverend—if I let myself think about it, I’d be scared spitless. So I don’t think. I just do my job. Right now that’s all I can do.”
“Hurry, Lauren! Blast it, we’ve got to get out of here!” Randall Clawson’s wife and daughter, luckily, were out of town, but he was anxious to get away and get back to his duties. Lauren couldn’t blame him. The smoke was close enough to sting their eyes and nostrils. A single spark, carried on the high wind, could turn this house into an inferno, destroying everything in it and around it—the stately poplars, the garage with her grandfather’s priceless vintage auto collection, and the history of a family.
She’d encouraged Clawson to go on ahead and let her follow in the Corvette when she was ready. But the good man had insisted on staying until she was safely out of the house. If she wanted to take her little car then, she could follow him.
The funeral director and catering staff had packed up and taken the back road to the main highway, bound for Lubbock. Lauren had changed into her jeans and filled a valise with a change of clothes, some personal papers and jewelry, and a few toiletries. But she knew she could be seeing this house for the last time. She wanted something else—a memory to keep. As soon as she laid eyes on it, she knew what it had to be.
“Step on it! The fire won’t wait!” Clawson stood framed in the open front doorway, his car keys in his hand. Smoke was drifting into the house. Lauren could taste it, bitter and burning in her throat.
“One more thing and I’m coming.” She raced to the dining room and seized the framed photograph that showed her grandparents, her father, and Sky’s beautiful mother. More than all the expensive furnishings in the house, this picture was the one thing she wanted to save for her children. “Let’s go,” she said.
As they came out onto the front porch, Lauren could see the hellish glow of the fire through the trees. The shifting wind was blowing it straight toward the Rimrock. She imagined Sky, working feverishly to load the horses as the flames swept closer. So many horses—and they were like his children. She knew Sky wouldn’t leave until every last one was out of danger.
As she sprinted out to her car, her lips moved in silent prayer. Please . . . please keep him safe.
With nothing in its way, the wildfire stampeded across the tinder-dry grassland. Searing flames leaped higher than a man’s reach. Smoke billowed upward, darkening the sunlight. Swift-moving animals—rabbits, coyotes, and deer—plunged ahead of the burning grass in a desperate search for safety. Snakes, lizards, mice, and prairie dogs took refuge under the ground. Birds took to the air. Some animals would survive. Many would not.
On the Rimrock, the mares and foals and the first of Sky’s colts had been loaded into the two longest trailers and were on their way up to the fenced pastureland on the caprock. It would be rough going, the gravel road steep and narrow, the loaded trailers heavy, the horses frightened.
While they waited for the trucks to bring the empty trailers back down, Sky and his crew of a half-dozen men loaded the stallions into the smaller vans. The horses snorted and tossed their heads, smelling