The last thing they needed was to have to rebuild the barn from the ground up. A new roof would be hard enough. And what if the flames leaped to the chicken coop?
He forced his focus back to the mare crowding the rear corner as he stepped into the stall. “Easy, girl. Let’s get you out of here.”
He approached with the rope, but Willow’s eyes rolled white with terror. The smoke was thicker here, and the roar of the flames louder. Sweat ran down his back beneath his damp shirt.
When he reached the mare, he slipped the rope over her neck, then moved the cord higher to a position where he would have more leverage. “All right, girl. Come out where you’ll be safe.”
He tugged the line, but she balked, throwing her head up. “Easy, girl.”
A flash of light outside the stall made her jerk back, and Enoch spun to see the source. A timber fell from the roof, landing on the packed dirt. Flames still licked the fallen wood. Willow probably wouldn’t step foot from her stall with the fire right in front of the opening.
He left the horse and strode from the box to kick the wood out of the way. When his boot struck the timber, it skidded across the barn floor, embers scattering in its wake. He should stop and put the flames out, but they had to get the horses free before he fought the fire.
As he turned back to the stall, a cracking sound split the air.
He looked up as another burning timber dropped from the ceiling. He couldn’t make his feet move fast enough, but his body twisted sideways as he scrambled out of the way of the falling wood.
Pain exploded across the back of his head and his left shoulder and spine as the timber slammed into him, forcing him to his knees. Heat seared his ear, and he rolled, frantic to get away from the flames. Were they going out? He could only feel oppressive heat. Had his shirt caught fire? His hair? His beard? The haze of smoke clouded around him, clogging his mind and chest.
Hands pulled at him, lifting him. He fought to get his feet underneath him. His left arm ached like the skin had been scraped off with a knife, but he used his other hand to swipe over his head and make sure no flames still lingered.
His hair crinkled, but that might have been straw he’d picked up from the barn floor.
He was on his feet now with his brother gripping one arm.
He shook Robert away, walking on his own. “Are all the horses out?” Maybe he should tell his brother to leave them. They couldn’t risk Robert getting caught by falling wood either.
“Mrs. Beaumont has the last one.”
If he was a swearing man, those words would have brought on a curse. “Get her out of here!” The smoke made his voice rasp.
He couldn’t let her get hurt. He turned back to find the woman himself, but Robert grabbed his good shoulder. “She’s coming. There.”
Enoch blinked to clear the smoke from his eyes. When he opened them, Mandie was leading the broodmare he’d been trying to free. Willow walked beside her, though the mare’s nostrils and eyes flared wide with each step.
Enoch let the pair pass, then trudged toward the barn door with Robert. Men’s voices shouted outside.
He forced himself to stand straighter. To walk faster. Now that the animals were safe, they had to do everything possible to put out the flames.
CHAPTER 12
Mandie’s eyes stung as she stumbled into the house. The bedraggled Balfour brothers filed in behind her, and a glance at them all showed they were as dirty as she and must be just as exhausted. They’d finally put out the last of the fire, and the steady patter of rain would hopefully douse the remaining coals and smoke. The lightning had stopped, and they’d caught all the horses from the barn and secured them in the pasture nearest the house.
In the morning, there would be more to do, but for now, they could clean up and rest.
She sent a look toward Enoch. He must be worried about the loss of the barn. His head and shoulders sagged with more exhaustion than the others. Probably a great deal of pain too.
She could still see him in her mind, knocked to the barn floor with flames leaping from his hair and shirt.
He must have terrible burns. If they weren’t cleaned and treated, they would fester quickly.
Bea wasn’t here, so Mandie should be the one to tend him. Or at least make sure the job was done correctly.
She turned to him, keeping her voice low. “Enoch, your burns need bandaging. Tonight, before infection sets in.”
Enoch lifted his head slowly, as if the very act of meeting her gaze required monumental effort. The weariness in his eyes, the tightness around his mouth, spoke volumes of the agony he was enduring.
He shook his head. “I’ll manage.” His voice scratched so much the words were hard to make out.
