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“Ash. From his paws and fur.” She looked up, unable to keep the smile from her face. “Gander was with Bennett,” she explained.

“No kidding.”

“Do you know how to find him, boy?” she asked.

Gander ran three circles in the dirt, then sprinted toward the north fields. Maggie was close on his heels, hope propelling her on.

“Okay, buddy. Show me the way.”

“I’ll call my mom and we’ll meet you out there.”

Maggie could only nod as she ran toward Bennett.

Please, please, she begged. Let us make it in time.

*

The oppressive heat built against the walls of the canyon, turning the valley into a seven-mile-long convection oven. Bennett wet his bandana in the creek and put it over his mouth and nose. He coughed, the smoke already scratching his lungs.

He needed to find the release valve on this side of the property and get the hell out of here. And quick. If this thing snaked out of the protection of the stone walls, it would devastate Deer Creek, if it stopped there. All of Travis County was at risk.

“Johnny, you lazy sonuva—”

But it wasn’t just Johnny. Yeah, the guy had messed up. Big time. But it wasn’t like Bennett had offered him a leg up or anything. Taught him how to do things right. Supported him and thanked him for helping Maggie, even if his intentions had been suspicious.

Nah. He’d let his own biases get in the way of doing the right thing.

And now Bennett and the rest of the town he loved were about to burn for Bennett’s own ego.

A flash of orange above him made him jump.

The fire leapt from the tip of one birch tree to another. It was getting smart. The sandy beach wasn’t gonna help it spread, so it’d taken on new resolve.

Bennett’s time was running out.

He trudged upstream through the cool waters of the creek until he got to the fork in the canyon where the water system had been installed.

“Thank God,” he whispered. The dusty footprints of the firemen’s boots still hung on the stone pathways up the rock face—that was how new this thing was.

“I don’t care if it’s new so long as it works.” As if to emphasize that point, a fireball sprung from a nearby spruce and landed not ten feet away from Bennett, spraying him with sparks.

Maggie’d been the brainchild behind the infrastructure, so it had good bones. The only question was whether the county fire team had done the install correctly.

“Could’ve used you right about now, Jove,” he muttered, looking up at the structure, the first three rungs of which glowed orange with heat. He’d sent his horse back when he was confronted head-on by the flames and regretted that. “But I’m glad you’re safe on the other side of this.”

The metal ladder that had been erected for anyone who needed to use the valve stood fifteen feet tall against the sandstone cliff. Staring at the base of the ladder, Bennett couldn’t recall why they’d needed the pipes to be so high.

“Dang it. This is gonna hurt.”

Bennett took off his flannel button-down, soaked it, and wrapped it around his hands. That the fabric connected in the middle wasn’t convenient, but he couldn’t exactly afford to be picky, could he?

Garnering any courage and physical strength he had left, he got a running start and heaved himself at the ladder. His aim had been to clear the first few rungs that were scorching from the blaze.

He did it.

His covered hands wrapped around the fifth rung and clung to it like it could save his life. Because, well, it could.

Pulling himself up was another thing altogether. Exhaustion tugged at his bones, his muscles, his thoughts, weighing him down. Between the morning prep and then spending half the afternoon fighting through a burning canyon, he didn’t have much in his reserves tank.