Page 85 of A Cowboy's Claim

He hauled Grace into his arms and sprinted with her to the nearest wall, the area clear of all signs of the fire. “See the open door there? Run straight for it, got it? Help’s coming. I’m going for Sydney.”

She nodded, coughing again, tears streaking the soot on her face. She pumped her legs and sprinted.

In spite of every nerve screaming for him to move, Declan waited until she reached the door before he turned and ran.

The stairs to the stage groaned beneath his weight. The heat was a wall now, blistering his skin. Flames licked at the rafters. Somewhere overhead, beams snapped. He grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and sprayed a path ahead, just enough to get through.

“Sydney!”

She looked up this time. Her face was streaked with ash, hair damp and plastered to her cheeks. “Go back!” she rasped. “You can’t?—”

“Like hell,” he growled, pushing toward her.

She tried to rise again and failed. Her ankle was already swelling—badly twisted or broken. Declan crouched, slung her arm over his shoulders, and half-carried, half-dragged her as he turned to retrace his path?—

A section of ceiling groaned then crashed to the floor in front of them. Their way out vanished in a cloud of smoke and cinders.

Panic clawed at his chest. No time. No space. No way.

“Sydney—”

“Declan!”

He turned toward the voice.

Jinx.

She was crouched behind a gap in the back wall of the stage, eyes wide, one hand waving them forward.

“Crawlspace! This way! Move!”

Declan didn’t hesitate. He tightened his grip on Sydney and all but dragged her toward the hole. The passage was barely high enough to crouch through—some kind of maintenance corridor under the stage, dry and dusty, but cool and sheltered compared to the inferno above them.

Jinx led the way with the flashlight on her phone, ducking and weaving.

“Almost there,” she panted. “The path hooks behind the dressing rooms.”

The narrow passage opened into a utility door, and sunlight poured in the open door that led onto the back side of the hall.

The fresh air hit him like a blessing, and he stumbled out, Sydney still held tightly in his arms.

Jinx bolted ahead, waving down the fire crew as they prepared to rush into the building.

“We’ve got her!” she shouted. “We’re out!”

Firefighters surged forward, some dragging hoses, but one glance at the roof and their grim expressions said it all. They weren’t going to fight the blaze. They were there to stop it from spreading.

Declan lowered Sydney to the grass. Grace rushed over and threw herself into Sydney’s arms, crying again. Sydney hugged her tight despite the pain.

Jake arrived seconds later, driving one of the ranch trucks. He took one look at the smoke rising into the air, jaw tight.

“You okay?”

“I’ll live,” Sydney said, her voice raw. “My ankle’s messed up, but I think it’s a sprain, not a break. Grace has got some scrapes. Everyone else stay safe?”

“The kids are shaken but fine. Jinx kept them clear.” Declan looked over at the girl in question. “Until you left them to come get us. I’m thankful…and pissed.”

Jinx glared back. “I made sure the kids were all far from the doors. Then Grace mentioned Sydney was stuck on the stage, and I remembered about the crawlspace from when I did that school drama night. Some of the kids found it and figured it was a cool secret tunnel.”