The smoke was getting thicker. Matt made two trips into the parking lot, leaving the crates as far away from the building as he dared. His lungs burned with each breath, but he couldn’t stop. The kittens went in last, their tiny mews barely audible over the roar of flames that was growing louder by the minute.
Next were the dogs in the front kennels. A beagle named Buddy, two terrier mixes, and an elderly golden retriever. Matt pulled them out, clipping leashes to their collars and urging them to his truck. As fast as he could, he tied their leads to the trailer hitch and raced back inside the shelter.
Each trip back into the building was harder than the last. The smoke was now so dense that it made it nearly impossible to see. Matt felt his way along the familiar walls, counting doorways and kennel gates by memory. His throat felt raw, and his eyes burned so badly he could barely keep them open.
The heat was intense as he reached the back corridor where the large kennels were housed. Flames licked along the ceiling, eating through electrical conduits and wooden support beams. In the farthest kennel, huddled together in terror, were the five wolfdog puppies.
Baker and Rainier were pressed against the kennel door, whimpering. Helena and Granite cowered in the back corner. And Star—tiny, fragile Star—was frozen in the center of the kennel, her golden eyes wide with fear, her body trembling so violently Matt could see it even through the smoke.
“Come on, babies,” Matt called, fumbling with the latch. His hands were shaking from adrenaline and smoke inhalation, making the simple mechanism seem impossibly complex. “We need to go. Now.”
Baker and Rainier bolted past him the moment the gate opened. Helena and Granite followed more reluctantly, but they followed. Star didn’t move.
Matt lunged forward and scooped up the paralyzed puppy, tucking her against his chest as he ran after her siblings. Behind him, he heard the ominous crack of timber beginning to fail.
The four larger puppies had scattered when they reached the lobby. Matt left Star in his truck and spent precious minutes herding her siblings, grabbing them one by one and loading them into the vehicle. His vision was starting to blur from smoke inhalation, and his legs felt unsteady.
But he couldn’t stop. Not yet.
There were still animals in the building. Mrs. Chen’s ancient cat, Whiskers, who’d been boarding while she visited her daughter. The rabbit that some kid had surrendered yesterday. An injured hawk that was recovering from a wing fracture.
Matt made two more trips, his movements becoming increasingly unsteady. The heat was overwhelming now, and the smoke was so thick he was navigating purely by touch. When he finally emerged with the last animal—Whiskers, who’d been hiding under a desk—his legs gave out.
He collapsed beside his truck, gasping for clean air, Whiskers clutched against his chest. The sirens were getting closer, but they were still too far away. Matt’s vision was darkening at the edges, and his chest felt like it was filled with broken glass.
With the last of his strength, he managed to get Whiskers into a cat carrier and secure it in the truck bed. The wolfdog puppies were whimpering in the cab, pressed together for comfort.
Matt fell to the ground and closed his eyes. The heat from the building was intense, even in the parking lot. Windows exploded, and somewhere in the distance, the fire trucks’ horns and sirens cut through the night air.
The last thing he remembered was the sound of heavy boots running across gravel and urgent voices calling his name. Then there was nothing.
CHAPTER 27
The shrill ring of Lynda’s phone jolted her out of a deep sleep. She fumbled for it on the nightstand, squinting at the display. It was half past one in the morning. Carol’s name glowed on the screen, and Lynda’s heart immediately began racing. Emergency calls at this hour never brought good news.
“Carol?” Lynda’s voice was thick with sleep and growing dread.
“Lynda, thank goodness you answered. There’s been a fire at the shelter.” Carol’s voice was strained, barely controlled. “Matt’s at the hospital in Kalispell. He got all the animals out, but he’s hurt. You need to come.”
The words hit Lynda like a physical blow. She sat up abruptly, her mind struggling to process what she was hearing. “How badly hurt?”
“He has some burns, but the doctors are more worried about his lungs. His daughter’s on her way here, but she’s still at least half an hour away. The animals are all safe. Every single one. But the building...” Carol’s voice cracked. “It’s gone, Lynda. Everything’s gone.”
Lynda was already out of bed, reaching for clothes with shaking hands. “Which hospital was Matt taken to?”
“Logan Health Medical Center. I called Sarah, and she’s looking after the animals with the other volunteers. Matt got them out of the shelter, but she’ll check them for smoke inhalation.”
Lynda was grateful for Sarah’s help. “Thanks for calling. Are you okay?”
“I’m just shocked,” Carol told her. “The police couldn’t contact Stephanie, so they called me. I followed the ambulance to Kalispell in my truck to make sure Matt had someone with him. It’s been a stressful night.”
Lynda grabbed a jacket and her car keys. “Matt will appreciate you being there. I’ll drive to the hospital and meet you there.”
“Be careful on the road,” Carol warned. “Matt’s being looked after.”
“I will,” Lynda promised. She ended the call and stood frozen in her darkened bedroom, working through what Carol had told her. Matt was injured, the shelter was destroyed, and the wolfdog puppies and the other animals they were looking after were traumatized and homeless.
A soft knock at her door interrupted her paralysis. Kathleen and Amy were standing in the hallway.
