Mack’s chest heaved. He glanced to the fire. “Some of the calves were penned in. He went to get ’em.”
“No,” I breathed.
“He got three out, but there are a couple more.”
I stared at the wall of smoke and flames. “Go get in the truck, Mack.”
“What’s that?” he yelled, cupping his ears.
My gaze snapped to him. “Go get in the truck! Take it back to the big house,” I yelled back.
A nod, and he was gone.
For a moment, I stood there, frozen by indecision. With the cattle in a stampede, I’d only endanger the farmhands and myself if I ran in. And the fire … there was no knowing, no seeing, no finding him.
There was nothing to do. So I stood there, dragging labored breaths, staring at the fire while I prayed to every god I knew that he’d appear.
“Miss, you’ve got to get back.” A firefighter took me by the arm.
“He’s in there.”
“I know,” she yelled back. “Your man doesn’t listen for shit.”
A laugh surprised me, tears rushing to my eyes too fast to notice until I felt them hot on my cheeks. My smile faded instantly.
“You’ve got to get him,” I yelled.
She shook her head. “It’s not safe.”
“I fucking know it’s not safe—that’s why you need to go get him!”
“He’d only go back in.” She tried to step me back, but I shook loose.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said with such ferocity, she conceded.
She glanced over her shoulder at the fire. “The grass is short here, and we got to it before it got out of hand. It’s gonna burn out quick. Stubborn as he is, he’ll get out.”
“Millie! Grab a shovel and go with the guys!” someone called from the fray.
With an understanding nod to me, she ran off.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, poised to run into the mayhem. Looking back, I thought it was only a few seconds. It felt like a year.
He was a shadow first, emerging from the smoke like a ghost. Smudged with soot from top to toe with a shirt tied around the bottom half of his face, he charged out of the fire as fast as he could with a bucking calf in his arms.
I ran for him, meeting him just as he set the calf down at the mouth of the chute funneling the animals into the next pasture, and she ran off, screaming bloody terror toward the barns.
I flung myself at him like a rag doll, boneless and crying.
He caught me, squeezing me so hard, my ribs ached. His breath was labored, his trembling so intense, my teeth rattled.
He didn’t let me go for a long, long time.
When he did, it was on the heels of a yelling firefighter, shooing us toward the fence like the cattle. Jake took my hand and towed me to the fence, lifted me over, climbed over himself, and we edged back, turning to stare at the carnage.
Neither of us could breathe. We just watched the pasture burn.
“How did this happen?” I asked after a long while.
“It started with a bale in the hayfield, and the whole field went up in a handful of minutes. It crossed the fence so fast, we didn’t even get here in time. Not until the herd was nearly surrounded. Bunch of us ran in, scared them out. Jimmy got knocked over. I think he broke his arm.” They’d become flat, distant sentences as he stared at the fire. “It coulda been worse. We hosed down before we got here, second we saw the fire. But a couple of the little ones wouldn’t go. They just … stopped. I brought two of them out, but the third …”
My breath hitched. There wasn’t enough air. Panic tightened my ribs.
Jake’s eyes snapped to me, sharp with adrenaline. “Liv. Livi, breathe.”
I dragged in air, tugged off my bandana, hinged as my vision dimmed.
Jake grabbed me and ran for the barn.
“You’re all right,” he said with a calm certainty. “I’ve got you. Everybody’s safe, and so are you. Okay? Hold your breath.”
I tried.
“That’s it. Hold it again.”
I tried harder.
“Good girl,” he panted.
A whistle split his lips, and I heard a truck slide to a stop. He set me down in the bed and climbed in after me, pulling me into his lap as we took off.
“I …” I gasped. “I’m sorry.”
I lay cradled in his arms, staring up at the vision of him cast against endless sky as we bumped and bounded toward the big house. A smile tugged at his lips.
“Are you apologizing for having a panic attack?”
I chuckled and closed my eyes, nuzzling against his chest. “I stopped too,” I rasped, my throat raw from smoke. “Like the calves. I just stopped.”
“If you’d come in after me, I would have yelled at you like you have never been yelled at before, Olivia.”
“I thought you … I didn’t know if you’d …”
His arms tightened. “I know. I shouldn’t have gone back, but I couldn’t leave them.”
My eyes were still closed, the smell of smoke in my nose because it was all over him. “In a few hours when I can breathe, we’re gonna talk about how you just ran out of a fire with a baby cow in your arms. Shirtless.”
A raspy laugh rumbled out of him, and he kissed the top of my head. “You’re not making a calendar out of me. I don’t care how much you beg.”
“But you rescued a baby cow. I don’t know how you can turn your back on the millions we’d make.” A dry cough shook me so hard, I couldn’t say anything else.
“Don’t talk. You can convince me later.”
I leaned into him. “Don’t ever do that again.”
And he held me closer, saying soberly, “I won’t.”
22
The Winding Path
JAKE
The day went by in a blur.
When we reached the house, I deposited Olivia into one of two ambulances, staying with her while they checked her out, though they insisted on looking me over too. Other than being scuffed up, I was fine, as was she. She’d caught her breath, settled down.
Scared the shit out of me.
Wasn’t hard in the moment. I’d been razor sharp and looking for danger to throw myself into.
When the EMTs released us, we hopped back in the truck and headed for the barn where we’d put the cattle.
It smelled of smoke and fear. The herd was wide-eyed and jittery, snuffing and braying and in constant motion. One of the guys had the good sense to leave a tractor running outside the barn, blotting out the noise in the hopes we could get them calmed down. One of our girls, Pinky, sat on a post, singing Led Zeppelin at the top of her lungs with a hose in her hand, spraying a fine mist on the stock. The herd was dotted with snouts up and long tongues extended to taste. Miguel watched them, making notes on a clipboard, waiting for them to calm down before venturing in.
We’d only lost the one calf—a miracle—a hayfield, and a pasture. The patch of land was a smoldering blight, a mark we wouldn’t erase for some time. We’d lost months’ worth of hay. But the truth was, it could have been much, much worse.
Flashes of the fire shot through my mind without warning. The smoke stinging my eyes, filling my nose and mouth. The crackle and roar of flames, the scream of the heifer I couldn’t save. And I was thankful for Olivia at my side. For the unexpected moments when she’d slip her arms around my waist and hang on to me, tethering me to the present. But we operated as a team, the two of us rolling through the farm, taking stock of everything to make sure we had the whole picture.