Shimmering reddish light from the fire crept inside on a cloud of black smoke. Quickly she wedged the doors open to the protected side of the stable where the paddock was long and deep with a gate at the far end, should she need to evacuate the animals.
She started back inside.
BAM!
She jumped.
The door at the far end of the building, the one through which she’d entered minutes earlier, slammed shut.
“Hey!” she shouted, but there was no answer. Her heart, already thudding, kicked more frantically. Either the wind had caught the door or the stranger, whoever he was, had shut it.
But why?
Oh, Jesus, she couldn’t worry about that now. She had to get these damned horses to safety.
Holding the extinguisher under one arm, she started working her way along the corridor, retracing her steps. Unlatching first the stall on her right, the box that housed Nate’s black gelding, she said softly, “Come on, boy,” but the big horse needed no further coaxing. In a blur of lathered black hide, he shot out of his box, steel-shod hooves echoing on the concrete, black tail billowing behind him.
One down, seven to go!
Sweat ran down her face and arms. She unlatched the stall across the corridor and a feisty little roan bolted. So frantic was the mare that she scrambled on the concrete, getting out of the stall, scraping her side and almost losing her footing as she, too, galloped outside.
So far so good.
The air was thick and Shannon was beginning to cough, but the horses were escaping. As she reached the next stall she heard the dogs barking and hoped fervently that the stranger who had appeared in the parking area was releasing them.
Who in God’s name was he?
Why was he here, seemingly waiting for her in the parking lot?
Had he set the fire?
Oh, for the love of St. Mary, Shannon, don’t think about that now. Just get these animals out!
She unlatched the stall on the left side and a white mare with a gray muzzle and stockings flew through the opening. Two more followed quickly.
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she kept at it, unlatching the stalls one at a time, avoiding a stampede or getting run over by the horses. Two bays, plus a black and a gray shot out of their boxes, horseshoes clanging on the cement over the crackling roar of the fire.
Just one more!
Thick clouds of smoke roiled inside and she was coughing—half-blinded as she reached the final stall. She opened the door and expected the frightened mare to bolt through, but the horse cowered in the corner, backing up and trembling, her dun coat awash with sweat, lather flecking her hide.
“Come on, girl,” Shannon said, slipping inside and setting down the extinguisher to free both hands. She could always come back for it. Right now it was crucial to get the horse out of the building. “Time to get out of here.” The mare snorted and shook, ears flicking nervously, eyes wild. Softly, Shannon clucked in encouragement, easing forward, intent on reaching for the mare’s halter.
She reached up.
Crash!
A window blew, spraying glass.
The horse squealed and lashed out with a foreleg. Shannon sidestepped the blow. “Nuh-uh, Molly. Calm down…come on now.” She talked low and evenly, showing no fear, when inside she was screaming for the buckskin to get out, to run with the others, to follow the damned herd! “Let’s go,” Shannon said, her boots crunching on the shattered glass, the heat searing her skin.
In the background, over the ghastly roil of flames she heard the first faint shrill of sirens. Emergency vehicles! Thank God! Hurry! Before it’s too late!
Moving slowly but steadily, she held the horse’s gaze, then lifted her hand to the halter. She didn’t have time to find a lead, she just had to get the frightened mare out of the damned box and outside. “Here we go,” she said and grabbed hold of a leather strap.
The horse flung her head up.
Shannon didn’t let go.