Page 12

CHAPTER 12

brADYN

T he last couple of days have gone by in a blur as we prepare for the storm, and by the time we finished prepping for it, I was exhausted.

If only my brain would settle down long enough for me to get some sleep.

A fire crackles in the hearth before me, bright orange and yellow flames dancing while they fend off the chill that even my heater can’t seem to touch. It’s been a cold winter, colder than in recent years. And the storm that hit just over an hour ago still rages on, deepening the chill.

While I don’t mind the cold, I’m definitely more than ready for the warmth of spring. Bible open to Job , I go back to reading through the trials and tribulations God’s faithful servant suffered through. I’ve read this particular story in the Bible countless times, and every time, I notice something I missed before. A message that was embedded in the text that finally sinks in.

And nights when I can’t sleep, this is the only way I can pass the time without completely losing my mind in the past. The devil loves to trap me there, taunting me with mistakes and pain.

Especially on nights like tonight when I’m plagued with exhaustion and the wounds are still so fresh.

I set my Bible aside and head into the kitchen to make some chamomile tea. Here’s hoping Mom’s old remedy will do the trick tonight. Otherwise, I’m not sure how I’ll function tomorrow.

Given the amount of ice we’ll likely be dealing with come morning, I need to be at the top of my game. Especially if I plan on working with Arthur any. Which, after seeing him actually start doing a decent job the last day or so, I’ve decided to do.

Maybe I can get him on the right track.

Either way, it’s going to be a long day of breaking ice out of water troughs and cleaning stalls.

Bravo raises his head from where he’s lying on the couch beside me. His ears perk up, and he tilts his head to the side.

Something crashes down outside. It’s distant, and if I’d had anything but the fire going, I likely wouldn’t have heard it. Abandoning my electric kettle, I head over toward the front door and pull it open.

The moment I do, I know something is wrong.

Beside me, Bravo lets loose a whine.

Even from my house, which is a few miles away and out of sight from my parents, I can see smoke billowing up into the night air.

I rush toward the hall closet and pull on my boots and jacket, grab my beanie, and sprint out onto the porch. Bravo tries to follow, but with how cold it is, letting him out in the snow for an undetermined amount of time could be detrimental to his paws without the booties I don’t have time to put on.

“ Bleib ,” I order. Stay.

He lies down inside, and I close the door to keep him in before making the mad dash through freezing rain to the UTV. As I race down the path, I have to maintain a careful speed since some of the water has already frozen.

The closer I get, the thicker the smoke. As I crest the hill between my parents’ house and mine, my stomach turns into a pit. Flames are licking the sky, shooting up from the barn. Chaos ensues as the ranch hands are frantically trying to free the horses.

My phone rings. “I see it,” I tell my mother.

“Your brothers just got here,” she says into the phone.

“I’m nearly there.” I end the call and pick up speed, moving as quickly as I can without sliding down the icy hill. Since my house is closest to my parents, it’s not unusual for my brothers to stay with them whenever there’s a particularly nasty storm heading our way. It’s a precaution for them and the animals.

And thank God for that.

Arthur has Midnight on a lead and is rushing the wide-eyed, terrified horse out of harm’s way. Elliot is doing all he can to guide Juniper, our newest rescue mare, away from the flames as she stares back at them, so terrified I can see the whites of her eyes even from a distance.

“How many horses are left?” I yell toward my dad, who’s standing the closest. He rushes over to me, wearing pajamas, a heavy jacket, and boots. Freezing rain beats down on us. It slicks my clothing to my skin and the beanie onto my head.

“Your mother called the fire department. They’re trying to get out here, but we’re not the only ones who called for help. Tree took down the power line,” he says, gesturing toward the pole that once stood on the other side of the barn. “My best guess is it sparked when it hit the barn.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“The horses?”

He’s in shock; I can see it all over his face. But the barn is coming down any moment, and we need to make sure it’s empty.

“Right. Sorry. We have seven out.”

“Seven? We’re missing three.”

He nods. “Three of the horses got out, thanks to the damaged paddocks. Rev is one of them,” he adds quickly.

“They’re not in the fire?”

He shakes his head. “Stalls are empty.”

Thank God. It’s unfortunate that they’re out in the storm, but if we can get this fire out, we can go after them at first light. It’s far too dangerous to go out right now. Not until the fire is under control and this rain lets up. They’re better off seeking their own shelter in one of the run-ins scattered throughout the pastures.

Tucker rushes forward, his cheeks red and ash-stained. “Sammy’s not back.” He coughs.

“What do you mean, she’s not back?” The blood in my veins chills, and not because of the storm around us.

“She went after the runaway horses on foot. Leon tried to stop her, but he just got back. Said they lost each other somehow.”

“She’s out there alone?” Dread coils in my belly as I look off into the distance. She couldn’t have been dressed in protective clothing. Nothing warm enough to brave a few hours out in the ice.

He nods.

The rain lets up just enough that it’s not pounding down on us.

What’s left of the roof crashes down, and sparks fly into the air.

“Get all of the horses into the east barn. Get them settled and fed. Make sure there aren’t any injuries needing tending ASAP.” I head toward the UTV parked off to the side.

“Where are you going?”

“To get Sammy.” I climb into the UTV and fire it up. Lights illuminate the barn, highlighting that the entire thing will have to be rebuilt.

“Here.” My father tosses me a med pack they must have pulled out of the barn before the entire thing went up. “Stay safe. We’ll head out after you as soon as we get the horses settled.”

“Want backup now?” Elliot asks, rushing over.

“No, I’ll get her. Make sure the horses are safe.”

He nods. “We told her not to go. She took off after them anyway.”

Anger heats my veins even as the rain continues to chill me to my bones. “Get everyone else inside and warm as soon as the horses are situated,” I tell Elliot. “If I’m not back in an hour?—”

“Come find you. Got it.”

Thinking of all the ways this could go horribly wrong, I take off down the path that leads around the barn and toward the back pasture. Thankfully, the UTV’s roof is covered, but both doors are wide open, giving the freezing rain a perfect chance to pierce the side of my face like needles.

I drive slow, knowing Sammy is on foot, but as the storm picks up steam again, I lose all visibility. Adrenaline kicks in.

If I don’t find her, she’s going to freeze to death out here.

Why in the world would she go out alone? It’s insanity!

God, please let me find her.

I stop the side-by-side just in front of some downed fencing. It’s fresh, that much I know since I rode through all of our pastures before the storm hit. Grabbing the emergency flashlight we keep inside all ranch UTVs, I step out into the rain and, using the flashlight and the headlights from the vehicle, study the fence.

Blood and hair are stuck to the wire. Horses must have taken the fence down out of fear. Dread coils in my stomach as the need to find both Sammy and the injured horse grows stronger.

Muddy hoofprints continue into the pasture. Rushing back toward the vehicle, I retrieve a pair of fence clippers so I can take down the rest of the fence and get the vehicle through when the thing dies.

Rain hammers down on me.

“No. This cannot be happening.” I get in and try to fire it back up, but the engine won’t turn over. It’s completely dead, leaving me stranded. “You have got to be kidding me.” I pocket the pliers and the flashlight then head out on foot.

I should go back for help. For another UTV. But if I do that, I’m wasting time getting to Sammy. She couldn’t have gotten much farther than me, so instead of turning back, I press on. My cheeks sting, and I can’t feel my toes, but I keep pushing forward.

And then the beam of my flashlight hits a loafing shed, and I see Sammy inside, crouched in front of a downed animal, her hands moving swiftly in and out of the medical bag beside her. Two other horses are inside as well, both huddled in the corner, trying to get as far away from the storm as possible.

Shifting my direction toward them, I slow down just enough that I don’t frighten the already terrified animal. Rev. His eyes are wide, his nostrils flared. He tries to get up, so I quickly kneel down at his head, pressing both gloved hands down onto his wet neck.

As my beam of light rests on the injuries, she removes the small pen light she’d been holding in her mouth and sets it to the ground before returning to her work. “I’ve got you, boy,” she tells him. “I’m not interested in your lecture right now, Mr. Hunt. Feel free to hit me with it later. Right now, I’m busy.”

Mr. Hunt. I swallow down the furious words I want to throw her way, just grateful that she’s okay. Refocusing my attention from anger—for now—I scan Rev’s body. There are no burns on his body—thank God—but his leg is covered in lacerations that Sammy has already cleaned with iodine. The brownish-red liquid stains his white hair, and as she works to bandage the ones she can, I note the way her hands are steady.

The way she moves without thinking.

Was she a veterinarian before she came here?

As she works, I remain silent, trying not to let myself be too concerned with the storm outside as it continues to gather steam. The sleet is coming down so hard I can’t see past the edge of the overhang above us.

Fixing Rev’s injuries is only part of the problem now.

Getting out of here is going to bring a whole other wave of problems. I might be able to get Sammy back to the side-by-side and try to get it going, but doing so could lead to hypothermia for both of us should we get lost in the storm. I know this ranch like the back of my hand, but when you can’t see twelve inches in front of you, it’s easy to get turned around.

And if we leave, get turned around, and end up farther away from the main house, my brothers won’t be able to find us.

Staying here as the temperatures continue to drop presents the exact same problem, though it keeps us in one spot long enough to either be found or wait the storm out until it dies down enough that we can safely make the journey back to the side-by-side.

So, what do we do?

“Okay, that’s the best I can do right now,” Sammy says as she stands. I release Rev’s neck and the horse thrashes to his feet. Keeping the injured back leg off the ground, he moves away from us the best he can.

“Now do I get to lecture you?” I snap.

She turns toward me, fight in her eyes. “He was hurt. I helped him.”

“At the risk of your life and mine.”

“You didn’t have to come after me!” she yells.

“I don’t make it a habit of letting my people wander off in a freezing rainstorm alone.”

“So you’d rather your horse be in pain? Die? His injury might not have been life-threatening, but for all I knew it could have been,” she snaps.

“Oh, you knew he was injured then?”

“Yes. There was blood outside of his paddock. I grabbed the med bag and went after him because he needed me. He was hurt, scared, and bleeding.” There’s something in the frantic tone of her voice. Buried pain, a memory she’s trying to suppress, maybe. Whatever it is, it shuts me up.

“You shouldn’t have run off alone. It was foolish.”

“PJ followed after me.”

“He went back to the barn.”

“Well, that’s not my fault.”

I let out a breath in frustration. “If you had waited for me, we could have gone together.”

“You’re here now.”

“Except the UTV is dead, and now we might freeze to death.” I shake my head and survey the storm outside the shed.

“Look, I—” She hisses in pain, and I whirl on her, all anger draining from me in an instant as I take in the sight of her favoring her right leg.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s just a sprain,” she insists. “I tripped over the downed wire.”

But even as she says it, I’m already kneeling down at her feet and lifting the leg of her flannel pajama pants. Blood has crusted to her skin, thanks to a gash about three inches long on her shin. “You’re cut, too. Come over here and sit.” I guide her carefully away from the horses just in case they get scared. Last thing I want is to add a trampling to tonight’s bingo card.

Then I rush back over and grab both the med bag Dad gave me and the one she had. After opening it up, I clean the area with iodine and wrap it with white gauze. “You said your ankle is sprained?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I can’t put much weight on it.”

“You shouldn’t have gone after them. The horses could’ve waited until the morning.”

“Rev could have died.”

“He would’ve been fine until we could get to him.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I wasn’t going to risk it. Not when I didn’t know how badly he was injured.”

“No, you’ll just risk your own life even though you’re no good to them dead.”

Her jaw tightens, and I sense she’s holding back. Whether it’s out of respect for me as her employer or something else, I’m not sure. But she clenches her hands into fists at her sides. “Fine. But I’m not sorry for what I did.”

I glare down at her. “You will be if it kills us.”