Page 12 of Smokin’ Situation (Masked Men of Sage Springs #3)

Tristan

The radio clipped to my belt crackled, a rough transmission from the dispatch office to the emergency rigs on the far side of the ridge catching my attention.

Why in the fuck would someone be on a deserted bypass through the woods right now when it was in the middle of the mandatory evacuation zone?

There shouldn’t even be cars that far north of town because there was a blockade preventing traffic from accessing that part of the ridge.

I should know. I’d help set it up before the chief had sent me back to the ranch until they needed me.

When I’d protested, he’d shoved a radio at me and told me I was only to report back to the mobile command center if they called all hands on deck.

Feeling useless, I’d headed back to the ranch to plot out a mitigation plan if the winds shifted and the fire turned toward us. So far, the winds had stayed north of us, but the haze that was creeping closer and closer had my senses on high alert.

I’d seen enough fires turn to know when the climate was right for absolute chaos to be unleashed.

And as the smell of charred forest and lingering ash floated in the distance, it was a genuine possibility that this entire area could be engulfed in the next twenty-four hours.

But I’d fight like hell before I let that happen.

“Dispatch, we’re on the wrong side of the ridge to respond,” Baker’s deep voice echoed over the radio, followed moments later by several more rigs reporting in with similar responses.

My heart thumped heavily in my chest as I thought about what it meant for the person caught in that car.

The horse shifted underneath me, pawing at the ground while I continued to stare at the radio in my hand, waiting for someone to call in that they were en route.

“I know, you’re fine, Phi. It’s okay, pretty girl.” Running my palm down the side of her neck, I tried to calm her, knowing she was picking up on my anxiety.

Seraphina and I were still getting to know each other, but when I’d been given the option between a younger, stronger horse and the scarred, solemn beauty that I was currently atop, it hadn’t been a tough decision.

We’d been kindred spirits from the start.

“What’s going on?” Marty asked, sidling his horse Ajax next to where I’d stopped after noticing I was no longer following him on the ride we’d taken around the western perimeter of the ranch. We’d been coming up with a game plan in case the fire jumped the ridge and headed in this direction.

Which was a possibility if the erratic winds kept up, but I was hoping they’d be able to keep it contained.

“There’s a car stranded on the old 24 bypass.”

“What in the hell would possess someone to take that route? That section has been closed for years. It’s probably totally overgrown. That road was shit before it was abandoned.”

“I’ve been asking myself the same questions, but I wasn’t sure if there was something you knew that I was missing.”

He shook his head, gripping the top of his hat and settling it on his lap before he pulled a bandana from his pocket and wiped away the sweat that was beaded along his hairline .

Martin West was probably only a decade and a half older than me, but a life involving outdoor manual labor had already carved deep lines across his forehead.

Despite being the owner of the West Ranch, he had spent his career being hands on with the operational side of things. But now that I was lined up to be his new ranch manager, he was starting to hand over the reins for me to step more into his role.

I’d thought for sure that his daughter Charley would want to continue the family legacy and run the ranch, but he’d told me she was working for her aunt and uncle in Butterfly Ridge doing event planning.

I had a feeling you could never really keep a career cowboy from the life , but I think he was cursing this wildfire for throwing off his transition plans. Especially with the real danger of it affecting his land and his livelihood.

“They gonna send someone out to get ‘em?”

The radio in my hand had been silent for a few minutes, but it wasn’t looking good. I knew the Chief had the evacuation and containment measures handled, but none of the crews had confirmed they could stop what they were doing to find this person.

Pulling the radio toward my mouth, I depressed the button on the side, knowing I shouldn’t be interfering but also unable to stay quiet if I could help.

“Dispatch, this is radio twenty-seven. Is the call still open for the stranded motorist on 24?”

Marty shot me a concerned glance, clearly thinking the same thing as I was. One of us was going to have to find this idiot if no one from the county fire service could.

“Affirmative, twenty-seven. I have not received confirmation to reroute any of the ongoing evacuation plans.”

“Radio twenty-seven, you were told to stand down,” a deep baritone cut in over the line, the static barely distorting the sound of my other boss’ voice. “This channel is open for active rescue personnel right now. ”

“I understand that, Chief, but I’m currently within the vicinity to respond if needed.”

I’d have to pick my way through the woods to find them, but I knew Phi could get me there.

“Harding, you’re not supposed to be operating a vehicle in the evacuation zone. I can’t afford to have you getting stranded while you’re out playing hero.”

“Not in a vehicle, Chief. Currently on horseback inside the perimeter of the West Peak Ranch.”

The line went silent, and I waited, hoping I wasn’t about to get fired via radio transmission for not following the explicit orders he’d given me the last time I saw him.

“Alright, cowboy. You wanna prove yourself? Find me that motorist and get them back on the east side of the ridge. Dispatch will send you a pin of their location.”

Marty patted a gloved hand against my shoulder, nodding as I gripped the radio tighter in my hand, waiting for further instructions.

It appeared our plans would have to wait; a rescue mission was about to throw my entire day into disarray.

“Twenty-seven waiting for instructions, ready when you are dispatch.”

The woods were eerily quiet, the usual sounds of birds chirping replaced by the howling winds and an ominous haze rolling in that almost looked like fog.

Marty had shoved all the water he’d had stashed in his saddlebag, a bandana, and an extra horse blanket at me before he’d led me to the trail through the woods that’d get me closest to the GPS coordinates of the truck.

Its last reported location was three miles north of the pasture we’d been in when I intercepted the radio call.

My breath echoed in my ears, the wet bandana tied across my face obnoxious, but necessary as the smoke blowing through the trees became denser the closer I got to the blue dot on my phone screen.

Thank fucking God for modern technology.

When I’d gone on my first search and rescue, GPS pins hadn’t been a thing, and you were left to scan sizeable portions of wooded areas like this with just a fanned-out crew and a handful of prayers.

Phi was moving at a pretty good clip, and I knew while I had my face covered, she didn’t, so I needed to find this person and get the hell out of here. But I didn’t want to push her into a trot because the ground was uneven and the last thing I needed out here was a horse with a broken leg.

Scanning the trees, I looked for the signs of flashing lights, knowing turning on the hazards would be the first thing the dispatcher told them to do if the vehicle was still running. Which I hoped it was. Because blue dot or not, the quicker I got out of here, the better.

Phi kept moving forward, huffing as we got closer, and the smell of burning wood that had permeated my gear for years catching my nose through the bandana.

Despite the winds, it was hot as fuck, since I was covered from head to toe with my hat securely on my head.

I knew I had to be getting close to the fire line with the size of the ash floating in the air.

“Fuck,” I exhaled, seeing the little dot blink on the screen, the corner of my phone showing that cell service was no longer available in this area. I pulled back on the reins, halting Phi for a moment as I thought about what I should do next.

Knowing I had little room for error, I tilted my hat backward and scanned the tree line, hoping for a sign I was in the right area. The traffic on the radio clipped at my side had been steady, but dispatch hadn’t called me off, so I was the best hope this person had to get out of here.

“God dammit, where are you?” Phi shifted, walking off the path into a grove of trees and I held on to the end of her leads tight but gave her her head, hoping she’d sensed something I couldn’t see and would lead us there.

As she broke through the dense brush, I exhaled, seeing a familiar gray truck tilted at an odd angle on the broken asphalt, my pulse picking up when I recognized the numbers and letter combination on the Colorado tags.

What the fuck was she doing out here?

My calm cracked, and I urged Phi to walk toward the truck faster. Slowing her down once we were right beside the tailgate, I slid sideways off the saddle, keeping her leads gripped tightly in my hand, so she stayed right with me.

She was typically an even keeled horse, but now that I’d dismounted, I didn’t want to risk anything startling her. Even the most docile horses could panic in a moment of danger.

“Where is she?” I whispered, scanning the driver’s side window, using my glove to wipe off the fine layer of ash that’d accumulated since she’d been stuck out here.

The front of the truck was empty, and my stomach sank, but there was no way she would’ve ignored the dispatcher instructing her to stay in the vehicle.

I cleared the back window, peering inside and exhaling in relief when I saw a blanket with a Rhey sized lump curled up underneath it in the footwell.