Texas Tough (28 page)

Now he stood with fiery smoke billowing behind him into a sky still empty of any help from the air.

Sky walked over to his side. Will was gazing after Tori's wagon as it vanished up the road. “She's quite a woman, isn't she?” he said. “Chicken poop up to her eyebrows, and she wears it like a million dollars. Take my advice, Sky. If you ever find a woman like that, don't be as stupid as I was. Hang on to her. Don't ever let her go.”

Sky kept silent, thinking of Lauren, wanting to call her but forcing himself to wait. “What do you hear from Beau?” he asked.

“The fire hasn't reached the break yet, but it's moving fast. Beau's crew's working to beat back the new flare-ups with shovels, but they can only do so much. Best they can hope for is to hold it off till help gets here.” He glanced upward through the smoke. “
If
help gets here.”

“How much water have they got?”

“Tanker truck's full. But that's all, and it's not much. They'll be saving it in case the fire jumps the break.”

Will sounded as if he could be talking about the weather or a story he'd heard in town. But Sky wasn't fooled. Behind his easy manner the man had to be heartsick. Even before the fire, the ranch had been in trouble. Now, even with insurance, he'd be forced to sell off the cattle and most likely the horses, too. Will had given his life to the Rimrock. Now, in a matter of minutes, everything he and his family had worked for over the years could go up in flames.

The two long horse vans were rolling into the yard. Sky sprinted back to help unhitch them and hook the small trailers to the trucks. While the stallions were being relayed up the road, the crew would be loading the rest of Sky's colts-in-training. Those would be followed by the older horses, the paddock cows, and Pedro, the old donkey who kept the stallions company in their barn. Only when the last animal was safe would Sky feel free to look to his own needs and worries.

The wind had risen to an ungodly howl, driving the flames faster than any man could run. Glancing up, Sky could see the hellish glow spreading across the horizon as far as the Prescott ranch. Anytime now, Lauren's old home could become a torch. There was no way she'd be there, of course. He had to believe she'd fled to safety. The thought of anything else would have driven him crazy.

A pale shape flashed by as Quicksilver, the finest of his pupils, thundered into the trailer. The cowboys were moving the horses fast now, shouting and waving their hats to herd them up the ramps as the smoke billowed overhead. Sky led gentle old Belle into the last empty spot. This would be the final run for the long trailers. The mounted cowhands would ride their horses up to the caprock. Then the remaining animals—the paddock cows and Pedro—would be loaded into the smaller trailers and carted to safety.

Once the animals were gone, Sky would join Beau's crew on the fire line, doing what he could. If the blaze jumped the firebreak—and it would unless help came—the men would have to be evacuated, too. After that there'd be nothing left except to watch the ranch burn.

 

Beau's cell phone rang. He thrust his shovel blade into the ground and slipped off one grimy glove to fish the phone out of his pocket. The caller was Natalie.

“Beau, are you all right?” He could barely hear her voice over the roar of wind and fire. Flying sparks had burned holes in his clothes and peppered his skin. His eyes stung so bad from the smoke, he could barely stand to keep them open. The other men were the same.

“Hang on. I'll find a quieter spot.” He walked a dozen paces back from the fire line and turned up the volume on his phone. The last time they'd spoken was right after he'd left the Prescott place. Conditions here had turned nightmarish, but he didn't want to upset her. “I'm fine,” he said. “But I can't talk long.”

“I understand.” And Beau knew she did.

“We're trying to hold the line till the fire crews arrive,” he said. “But don't worry, we're not taking any chances. If things get too bad, we'll pull back.”
They were already too bad, but he wasn't going to tell Natalie that.

“I talked with Tori,” she said. “Now I can't get through to her phone. When you see her, tell her I've got Erin here with me.”

“Does Erin know her foal's all right?”

“She does. We've been watching the news, but it's all about the big fire down south. Nothing about the one at your place.”

Beau muttered a curse. Where the devil was the press when you needed them? “Gotta go,” he said.

“Be careful, Beau.”

“I will. I love you, Natalie.”

“Don't . . .” Her voice broke. “Hearing you say that just scares me.”

Shouts were coming from down the line. Beau ended the call, dropped the phone in his pocket, and ran in that direction. Fifty yards down he saw what he'd dreaded most. A shower of sparks, blown by the wind, had crossed the firebreak and ignited the dried grass stubble on the near side. The men were shoveling dirt on the fire. It had worked with smaller flare-ups, but this time it wasn't enough. The fresh blaze roared to life, racing over the ground in a widening pool of flame.

“It's moving too fast!” Beau shouted. “Go! Get out of here now!”

Hearing his order, the men grabbed their tools and fled back toward the ranch yard. Beau watched them go. He'd done the right thing, he told himself. The fire had become too dangerous. He couldn't risk losing even one of their lives.

He pressed the talk button on the two-way radio. “We're done here, Will,” he said. “Fire's jumped the break. I'm sending the crew in. I'll be along shortly. Over and out.”

Beau knew he didn't have much time. But there was one chance left, and he had to take it. The tanker truck stood a hundred yards back, ready to be brought in if needed. The tank was meant for small blazes and didn't hold much more water than a horse trough, but if he moved fast, there might be enough to douse the fire on this side of the break.

He dove in the truck and drove it as close to the fire as he dared, jumped out, and unwound the hose. While he had two legs to stand on, no fire was going to burn the ranch his family had worked so hard to build—the ranch that meant so much to the people who lived and worked on this land,
his
land and his children's land.

With the pressure on full force, the hose was hard to handle alone, but he directed the stream at the fire and held it steady. He should have known better than to try. Within ten minutes the tank was empty, the fire still spreading. And now the flames were racing toward the tanker truck. With no time to get to the vehicle and move it, Beau could only back away and watch as the truck began to blaze.

Only then, as the gas tank went up in a
whoosh
of flame, did he realize the trouble he was in. By now the fire had jumped the break in other spots and was roaring toward him. For a short distance he might be able to outrun it. But he couldn't run forever and he had nowhere to escape.

Natalie's face flashed through his mind. He had to get away, had to be there for her and their child. Beau's legs sprang into action. In high school he'd been all-state in track, but that had been decades ago, and now his lungs were burning from the smoke. The fire was already gaining on him. With each stride, he felt his legs getting weaker. This was the race of his life, and he was losing.

“Beau!” The familiar shout reached his ears. Will's bulky form, running toward him, materialized through the smoke. “You damn fool!” Will's strong arms caught him, pulled him toward the pickup that waited ahead. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

“Trying to . . . save your ranch. But I couldn't . . .” Beau was out of breath. His feet stumbled as Will dragged him the last few yards and piled him into the pickup.

“
Our
ranch, you knucklehead,” Will growled. “We can talk about that later. Right now let's get us both out of here.”

Seconds later they were rocketing back toward the ranch yard with a wall of smoke and fire towering behind them.

 

From outside the barn, Sky watched the fire sweep closer. The last of the trailers had vanished up the road, the men from Beau's fire crew riding along in the trucks. But there was still no sign of Beau, or of Will, who'd gone looking for him.

The blaze was a monster now—an unstoppable juggernaut, burning everything in its path. It was time to get out of its way. But he couldn't leave without knowing what had happened to Will and Beau.

Relief swept over him as Will's pickup burst through the smoke with two men in the front seat. The ranch might burn, but at least his brothers were alive and safe.

Will swung the pickup close to where Sky stood, hit the brake, and rolled down the window. His smoke-reddened eyes were like burning coals in his soot-black face. “Jump in. Let's get out of here,” he said.

“Go on,” Sky said. “I want to check the place one last time. I'll follow you in my truck.”

“Fine. Don't take long.” Will gunned the engine and disappeared up the road to the caprock.

Sky raced through the barns, checking each stall to make sure no animals were left inside. Jasper's ATV was in the shed behind their duplex. Sky would have liked to save it for the old man, but he didn't have the key and the fire was roaring close now. There'd be no time to rig the ramp and push the ATV into his pickup. There were some valuable saddles in the tack room but no time to take them and load them in the truck. Flames were shooting up beyond the bunkhouse and the commissary. Soon the sparks would ignite the barn and the wooden roof of the house. He could smell the acrid smoke, taste it. His stinging eyes burned with it. He had to get out—now.

His silver-blue truck was parked in the open. Sky grabbed the key ring out of his pocket. Flinging himself into the driver's seat, he thrust the key into the ignition, touched the gas pedal, and gave the key a turn.

There was a faint
click,
then silence.

He pumped the gas pedal, jiggled the key, and tried again.

Nothing.

CHAPTER 20

L
auren's babyhood home was gone. From the shelter of the brick and metal syndicate office, she'd watched the flames in the house shoot up higher than the tall poplars. Then the trees themselves had caught fire, blazing like candles around an altar.

Losing the house saddened her. But it was Sky's safety that had her frantic. She'd tried again and again to reach his phone but had gotten nothing but his answering message.

Finally, after several desperate tries, she managed to call Tori on the caprock. “Everybody else made it out ahead of the fire,” Tori told her. “But we're still waiting for Sky. He wanted to check the barns before he left.”

“Can't somebody go back and make sure he's all right?”

“Not anymore,” Tori said. “The fire's burned past the bottom of the road. We can only hope he's headed up here or that he got out some other way. Don't worry, Lauren. Sky's too smart to get caught in the fire. As soon as he shows up, I'll have him call you.”

Minutes after the call ended, Lauren's phone rang. She shook with relief when she saw Sky's name and heard his tired voice. “I saw the smoke when your house went up,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“I'm fine. I'm at the syndicate office. I've tried and tried to call you.”

“Sorry, I've been busy. And I left my phone in the truck.” Something in his voice set off a warning. A cold premonition crawled up her spine.

“Where are you?” she asked. “Tori said you weren't with the others.”

“I'm still at the ranch. But I don't plan to be here long.”

The fear sharpened, cutting deep. “Sky, what is it? Are you all right?”

“I'm fine.” In the background, behind his voice, she could hear a sound like wind, but more than wind. “I just wanted to tell you something, that's all. I'd planned to wait till everything was perfect and I could get down on one knee with a diamond ring in my hand. But I think I need to say this now. I love you, Lauren. I'll always love you. Whatever happens, never forget that.”

“Sky, what's going on? Tell me—”

But there was no reply. She'd lost the connection. When she tried again there was no answer.

Lauren's heart slammed. She should have sensed the truth the instant she heard his voice. Sky had known he was in life-threatening danger. The call had been his way of saying good-bye. By now he could be dying, or even dead.

The urgency was a scream inside her. Whatever it took, she had to go to him.

Her Corvette was in the parking lot, but the low-slung car wasn't made to go off-road, and if it got too near the fire, it would burn. She'd have to take a horse.

She ran to the metal-roofed stable, where she grabbed a saddle and a bridle with side-blinders from the tack room. One horse was hers to take—a horse strong enough to carry her where she needed to go. But that horse had a strong will of his own. She could only hope Storm Cloud was in a mood to behave.

She'd used a silk scarf to tie back her hair when she'd left the house. Pausing, she pulled it free and stuffed it in her pocket. There was a chance she'd need it to blindfold the horse. She couldn't risk letting the wind blow it away.

 

The big, black gelding was in his stall. He was nervous, most likely spooked by the smell of the fire, but he allowed her to saddle and bridle him and to climb on his back. She walked him out of the stable and looked around to make sure the way was clear before digging her heels into his flanks.

Storm Cloud responded as if a gunshot had gone off behind him. They rocketed out of the yard. Lauren crouched over his back like a jockey, planning her route as she rode. Trying to pass through the smoke and flames would be too dangerous, and the ground already burned would be too hot to cross. She would have to circle wide and come into the Rimrock from the north, ahead of the fire. That would mean trusting that the wind would hold—a risky bet, but one she would have to take.

“Hey! What're you doing!” a male voice shouted somewhere behind her. “Come back here, you crazy woman!”

Without a backward glance, Lauren kept on riding.

 

After calling Lauren, Sky had taken the loaded revolver out of the glove compartment and stuck it in his belt. He'd rationalized that he might find some poor burned animal and need to put it out of its misery. The real reason for having the weapon was one he didn't like to think about. If the flames cut him off from all hope of escape, a quick bullet to the head would be better than burning to death.

But things hadn't come to that yet. He still had a fair chance of surviving this fire. All he had to do was find it.

The well and reserve tanks had been drained in an effort to water down the house and barn. Turning on the outside tap, Sky wet himself down from the trickle that remained. Blown by the wind, the fire was burning from east to west. The escarpment on the west would be the safest place, but he'd never make it on foot. No man could hope to outrun a roaring, windblown fire for any distance. There was an unburned break to the north, but even if he could make it that far, the fire would get there first.

The bunkhouse was already burning, and the water-soaked roof of the long barn had begun to steam. Soon it would be smoldering. Staying in the open, away from the buildings, wasn't an option. When the full force of the fire swept through, it would suck all the oxygen from the air.

Sky scanned the yard for shelter. The house was stone, but once the roof caught it would be an inferno. The same for the sheds and the duplex he and Jasper called home. Was there a root cellar? Lord, he couldn't remember. Even if he could find it, would it give him enough protection? Would anything?

Sky's frustration exploded in a string of curses. He didn't want to end his life like this. He wanted to live out his years with his brothers in this place that gave him all he could ever need. He wanted to build a home on his land, to marry Lauren and fill her sweet belly with their children. It wasn't right that it should all end here—he couldn't let it happen. Dammit, he
wouldn't.

An unexpected sound made him turn. There, galloping hell for leather down the open strip to the north, was a big black horse. At first he couldn't make out the rider, but when he caught a glimpse of flying red hair, he knew.

Lauren was risking her life to come for him.

The unburned gap was narrowing. Anytime now, with a fresh breath of wind, it would close. Lauren could be trapped by the flames.

What if that were to happen? Sky had the pistol. He could shoot the horse if he had to. But could he shoot Lauren?

“No! Lauren, get back!” Sky raced toward her, trying to wave her to safety. But she kept coming, urging the horse ahead. Sky could tell Storm Cloud was terrified. He could easily throw her to the ground and bolt.

With the fire closing in, they met halfway. Still gripping the reins, Lauren slid to the ground. Sky caught her close, but only for an instant. He knew they were running out of time. Without a word, Lauren handed him the reins. The black gelding was tossing and snorting, on the verge of panic.

Springing onto the saddle, Sky pulled Lauren up behind him. As she settled into place, her arms around his waist, he spoke to calm the horse. “Easy, boy, it's all right.” Storm Cloud seemed to recognize his touch and voice. His agitation lessened. But when Sky turned the horse back the way Lauren had ridden, he saw the danger. The unburned gap had closed. They would have to leap the fire to get away.

“Protect your head,” he told Lauren. “Press your face against my back and hold on tight. We're going through.”

He took an instant to pat the gelding's lathered shoulder. He knew he was asking a lot of the horse. He could only hope Storm Cloud would trust him. “You can do it, boy,” he said. “Let's go!”

Communicating with his knees, weight, and hands, Sky urged the horse to a thundering gallop, then to a soaring leap that carried them over and through the flames. A searing breath of heat brushed past them. Then they were clear and running, the fire blazing behind them.

Sky swung the horse toward the safety of the escarpment. They were gaining distance on the fire now, but Storm Cloud was tiring. Sky slowed the gelding's pace to an easy canter. They had a little time now.

He freed a hand to reach back for Lauren. Her fingers caught his and held on tight. Later they would talk and make plans. Right now no words were needed.

They were nearing the escarpment when the whirring, droning sound of aircraft reached their ears. “Sky! Look!” Lauren cried.

Sky turned the horse. Behind them, above the ranch, planes and choppers were swarming in to dump their loads of water and fire retardant. Sirens wailed as the ground crews moved in from the far side of the fire. The flames were already losing the battle.

As the sun set over the caprock, Sky halted the horse in a shadowed canyon by a spring, dismounted, and gathered Lauren into his arms. The fire had done plenty of damage. But grass would grow again. Fences and buildings could be repaired. Only lives were irreplaceable. Lives and love.