We need to get the horses out, yes, but there’s no way to do that without getting too close to the fire. It’s spreading too fast.
“Clint, hold up!” I grab his arm, stopping him.
He looks at me, eyes blazing bright as the fire itself.
“We don’t have time for this!” He’s furious, trembling from the strain.
“We can’t just rush in there!” I yell back, the heat getting unbearable now. “We need a plan. We need to?—”
Then I hear it. The crack of wood splitting.
“Shit!” I shout, my heart leaping into my throat.
I yank Clint back as part of the wall collapses in a burst of embers and dust.
We stagger back, both of us gasping as we watch the flames consume the building. The barn’s going to go up entirely soon.
Sawyer’s already on his way over, his face pale as he takes in the sight. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just watches, a grim kind of understanding in his eyes.
The flames roar loud as a wild animal, twisting and snapping. I hear the cracking and popping of wood as the barn burns, the smell of smoke heavy around us, searing my throat.
It’s a damn nightmare unfolding in real time, and I can’t help but think that this might be the beginning of something worse.
Sawyer’s face is pale, his eyes locked on the inferno, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a quiet urgency.
“We’re not gonna be able to save it,” he mutters, his voice lost in the crackling of the flames. “No way we can fight this ourselves.”
I don’t argue with him. He’s right. The ranch hands are already scrambling with shovels and water barrels, fighting a battle we’re clearly losing.
Clint’s already moving again, pushing through the smoke, heading for the barn’s back door.
“Clint, wait!” I shout. But he’s not listening. He’s too far gone.
I grab his arm, stopping him before he runs headfirst into the inferno. “You don’t have a plan, man. You can’t just rush in there?—”
“Then what the hell am I supposed to do, Reid?”
I nod. We don’t waste any more time with words.
The horses are skittish, their instincts picking up on the danger. I can hear them whinnying in panic, some of them pacing in tight circles, others standing frozen, eyes wide with fear.
We need to calm them down, get them moving, but the smoke’s thick now, and it’s hard to see anything clearly.
I run to the nearest stall, trying to move fast, my hands reaching for the first horse I can get to. A big bay gelding, already pawing at the ground nervously.
I throw a quick glance over my shoulder. Sawyer’s at the next stall, working to get one of the mares out.
“Come on, boy,” I mutter under my breath, sliding the halter on the gelding and leading him out of the stall.
The animal resists at first, but I’m not about to let it freeze in panic. I move quickly, gently pulling the horse forward, guiding him toward the safety of the back pasture.
The smoke burns my eyes, and I can barely see through the haze, but we have to move.
Clint is already heading out with one, but Sawyer is still wrestling with the mare, her hooves kicking out in fear. He’s doing everything he can, but there’s no time to waste.
“We need to go faster!” I shout.
The heat is too much, but Sawyer’s not backing down. He finally gets the mare under control, leading her toward the pasture as the smoke thickens.
