I got up, too, slipping into the sweatshirt that Romeo had left behind and my snow boots, and nothing else.
When I got outside it was to see Romeo leading all of the horses out of the barn.
I went to the side of the barn where the water hose was and cursed the fucking weather.
Everything was locked down for the winter…
“Leave it,” Romeo said. “Lead them to the round pen over there. It’s not bad. I just need to put the small fire out and air it out.”
I left it and called to the horses, hoping they’d follow me in their frantic state.
My legs were freaking freezing as they all followed me—thank God.
They went into the round pen with zero issues, and I turned to see Romeo pushing all the barn doors open—still naked except for his old work jacket—with a fire extinguisher in his hand.
I would find this freaking hilarious—his getup—if things weren’t so serious.
When I saw he had it covered, I went back inside and dressed appropriately.
When I came back out with a pair of sweatpants, boots and a sweatshirt for him, he was coming out of the barn.
I handed him the clothes, and he shoved everything on, caked dirt-covered feet and all.
He looked at the barn with anger lighting his eyes.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
I placed my hand to my pounding heart. “That could’ve been so bad.”
“I know,” he repeated, looking back into the barn. “I’m going to muck out their stalls and feed them while I’m out here. Then I need to look at my cameras that I have inside to see if I can find out what happened.”
The thought of someone setting the fire never occurred to us until thirty minutes later we were watching a man try and fail to set fire to a stack of hay bales.
“Fuckin’ a,” he said. “That’s Skeeter Johnson.”
“That is,” I confirmed.
Skeeter Johnson was the groundskeeper for the golf course/country club my mother and father frequented.
“We need to tell the police,” I whispered in horror. “Is he still here?”
“No.” Romeo switched cameras and showed the old man leaving once he’d thought he’d gotten the fire started. “Why didn’t the cameras alert you?”
“They did,” he admitted. “But we were sleeping.”
I grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
He smoothed his hand down my wild hair and said, “They’re okay. And it wasn’t your fault, baby.”
Still, that didn’t stop the guilt from nearly swallowing me whole.
Romeo pulled his phone out and placed it to his ear. “Gentry, I’m sending you some camera footage. I need you to do your thing.”
I heard a male’s reply, but that was about it.
When he hung up, Romeo scrubbed his hands over his eyes. “Fuckin’ a.”
