the smoke and sensing the danger. Some panicked, bucking, screaming, even biting. Others refused to budge.
Alert for any sign of trouble, Sky moved among them on foot, pausing where he was needed to soothe a terrified animal, prevent an injury, or coax a stubborn horse up the ramp. Vaquero, the champion chestnut stud, wanted nothing to do with the one-horse trailer that would haul him to safety. Eyes rolling, ears laid back, he was snorting and dancing, becoming more agitated by the second. The two mounted cowboys holding the big stallion on double lead ropes were in danger of losing control.
“Easy, boy.” Sky stepped to his head, one hand clasping his halter, the other stroking his powerful neck. “I know you’re scared. We all are.” Leaning toward Vaquero’s ear, Sky murmured the horse song his Comanche grandfather had taught him. It was a song the stallion had heard many times before and recognized as a signal. Be calm like the water. Be steady like the earth. All will be well. All will be well. . . .
Vaquero lowered his head. His ears pricked forward. With a last defiant snort and a swish of his tail, he trotted up the ramp into the trailer.
Sometime soon, Sky thought, he would teach that song to Erin.
With the stallions loaded and the trailers waiting for the trucks, Sky took a moment to catch his breath and glance around the yard. Tori’s station wagon was parked at the back corner of the house with Bernice, Jasper, and the dog inside. Dressed in baggy jeans, an old shirt, and work boots—most likely borrowed from Jasper—a rumpled Tori staggered into sight lugging a wire cage full of Bernice’s precious red laying hens. She was smudged head to toe with dirt and chicken manure. Sky could imagine her chasing down each one of those hens and herding them, or stuffing them, into the cages. Bernice would have wanted her to save them all.
After hefting the cage into the back of her vehicle next to another one like it, Tori closed the tailgate, piled into the driver’s seat, and headed off toward the road that climbed the escarpment.
From across the yard Will had paused to watch her load the car and drive away. The boss of the Rimrock seemed to be everywhere at once, coordinating things in the yard, directing the men hosing down the house and outbuildings, and using a walkie-talkie to communicate with Beau on the fire line and the men up on the caprock. The preparations he’d made ahead, which both Sky and Beau had viewed as his usual overmanaging, were paying off.
Now he stood with fiery smoke billowing behind him into a sky still empty of any help from the air.
Sky walked over to his side. Will was gazing after Tori’s wagon as it vanished up the road. “She’s quite a woman, isn’t she?” he said. “Chicken poop up to her eyebrows, and she wears it like a million dollars. Take my advice, Sky. If you ever find a woman like that, don’t be as stupid as I was. Hang on to her. Don’t ever let her go.”
Sky kept silent, thinking of Lauren, wanting to call her but forcing himself to wait. “What do you hear from Beau?” he asked.
“The fire hasn’t reached the break yet, but it’s moving fast. Beau’s crew’s working to beat back the new flare-ups with shovels, but they can only do so much. Best they can hope for is to hold it off till help gets here.” He glanced upward through the smoke. “If help gets here.”
“How much water have they got?”
“Tanker truck’s full. But that’s all, and it’s not much. They’ll be saving it in case the fire jumps the break.”
Will sounded as if he could be talking about the weather or a story he’d heard in town. But Sky wasn’t fooled. Behind his easy manner the man had to be heartsick. Even before the fire, the ranch had been in trouble. Now, even with insurance, he’d be forced to sell off the cattle and most likely the horses, too. Will had given his life to the Rimrock. Now, in a matter of minutes, everything he and his family had worked for over the years could go up in flames.
The two long horse vans were rolling into the yard. Sky sprinted back to help unhitch them and hook the small trailers to the trucks. While the stallions were being relayed up the road, the crew would be loading the rest of Sky’s colts-in-training. Those would be followed by the older horses, the paddock cows, and Pedro, the old donkey who kept the stallions company in their barn. Only when the last animal was safe would Sky feel free to look to his own needs and worries.
The wind had risen to an ungodly howl, driving the flames faster than any man could run. Glancing up, Sky could see the hellish glow spreading across the horizon as far as the Prescott ranch. Anytime now, Lauren’s old home could become a torch. There was no way she’d be there, of course. He had to believe she’d fled to safety. The thought of anything else would have driven him crazy.
A pale shape flashed by as Quicksilver, the finest of his pupils, thundered into the trailer. The cowboys were moving the horses fast now, shouting and waving their hats to herd them up the ramps as the smoke billowed overhead. Sky led gentle old Belle into the last empty spot. This would be the final run for the long trailers. The mounted cowhands would ride their horses up to the caprock. Then the remaining animals—the paddock cows and Pedro—would be loaded into the smaller trailers and carted to safety.
Once the animals were gone, Sky would join Beau’s crew on the fire line, doing what he could. If the blaze jumped the firebreak—and it would unless help came—the men would have to be evacuated, too. After that there’d be nothing left except to watch the ranch burn.
Beau’s cell phone rang. He thrust his shovel blade into the ground and slipped off one grimy glove to fish the phone out of his pocket. The caller was Natalie.
“Beau, are you all right?” He could barely hear her voice over the roar of wind and fire. Flying sparks had burned holes in his clothes and peppered his skin. His eyes stung so bad from the smoke, he could barely stand to keep them open. The other men were the same.
“Hang on. I’ll find a quieter spot.” He walked a dozen paces back from the fire line and turned up the volume on his phone. The last time they’d spoken was right after he’d left the Prescott place. Conditions here had turned nightmarish, but he didn’t want to upset her. “I’m fine,” he said. “But I can’t talk long.”
“I understand.” And Beau knew she did.
“We’re trying to hold the line till the fire crews arrive,” he said. “But don’t worry, we’re not taking any chances. If things get too bad, we’ll pull back.” They were already too bad, but he wasn’t going to tell Natalie that.
“I talked with Tori,” she said. “Now I can’t get through to her phone. When you see her, tell her I’ve got Erin here with me.”
“Does Erin know her foal’s all right?”
“She does. We’ve been watching the news, but it’s all about the big fire down south. Nothing about the one at your place.”
Beau muttered a curse. Where the devil was the press when you needed them? “Gotta go,” he said.
“Be careful, Beau.”
“I will. I love you, Natalie.”