Chapter 11
Rain pounded against Enoch’s body as he slowed his horse at the barn doors, then jumped to the ground to open one wide enough for his and Thomas’s horses to enter.
The storm had descended without warning, a torrent of rain and wind whipping across the pasture where the two of them mended a fence. They’d ridden hard for the barn, the horses’ hooves churning the rapidly muddying ground.
A clap of thunder sounded as he closed the barn door behind the horses, and his gelding jerked its head up with the sound.
“Never seen a storm roll in that fast.” Thomas led his horse to its stall.
Enoch did the same, moving down to the end of the row. “Hope the others are back.” Robert had taken Mandie’s telegram to town, and James rode out to the north pasture, the fenced land farthest from the house.
It took little more than a minute to strip the tack and settle the horses. Especially since Robert and Thomas had cleaned the stalls and thrown fresh hay as part of their chores that morning.
“Ready to make a run for it?” He met Thomas at the barn door.
At his brother’s nod, Enoch pushed it open, and they both jogged up to the house.
Lightning split the sky as they reached the porch, and thunder crashed the next second. He took the steps in two strides, then slowed on the porch to catch his breath and take off his wet gear.
He shook off his hat, then bent to pull off his boots. Were she here, Mrs. Wang would send him back outside if he stepped foot on the rug with so much dark mud coating his shoes.
Even though he’d worn a hat, the driving wind had soaked his beard, which dripped water down into his shirt collar. His clothes were plastered to his skin. Probably not a suitable condition for a lady to see, but this was the nature of ranch life.
Hopefully he wouldn’t meet Mrs. Beaumont on the way to his room. Especially since he only wore stockings.
As he and Thomas were still prying off their muddy boots on the porch, the door swung open, and the woman herself stood in the frame.
“You’re both soaked through. Come in and get warm.”
She looked far too pretty…and far too fancy in her lace-trimmed dress compared to their bedraggled, mud-soaked clothes. He kicked off his last shoe, then followed Thomas inside. “We’d best get out of these wet clothes first. The others back?”
“Robert’s in the study and James is drying off too.”
He studied her expression. “Did your telegram get an answer?” If she’d heard from her parents, communicated her injury, would they be coming?
She shook her head and showed only a little disappointment. “He waited an hour, but my parents must have been out.”
He nodded. “Every so often, a telegram goes awry out here.” He focused on pushing off his last boot.
Mandie stepped aside for them to enter the house. “After you’re both changed, come to the kitchen. I have warm tea and biscuits ready.”
When he reached his room, he stripped off his soaked shirt, the stubborn fabric clinging to his skin. In its wake, gooseflesh prickled his arms.
He reached for a dry shirt from his drawer and pushed his hands into the sleeves.
A shout sounded from the front of the house, but the pounding rain drowned out the word.
He tensed, listening so he could make out anything else.
“The barn’s on fire!”
His blood turned to ice, and he jerked the shirt over his head as he pushed for the door. He sprinted down the hall, toward the front door.
Thomas was running down the stairs. Good. A glance through the front window showed red mixed with the brown of the barn, but with the sheeting rain, he couldn’t make out more.
God, no! If lightning struck the barn directly, all that dry hay might go up in flames before the rain could douse the fire.
He jerked open the door, then forced himself to stop and push his feet into his boots before charging down the stairs and to the barn. They had to get the stock out, then stop the fire from spreading.
Someone must already be working to free the horses, for the barn doors stood wide open.
He raced inside, barely registering the searing heat that hit him like a physical blow. Flames licked across the ceiling, consuming the dry timber with terrifying speed. It had started in the loft as he’d suspected, and now a large hole in the roof was allowing rain over that section.
Maybe it would douse enough fire to stop the blaze’s advance.
Smoke was already pushing lower in the air, stinging his eyes and lungs. James led Robert’s mare out of the closest stall.
Enoch aimed for the next stall down where they’d been keeping one of the three-year-olds in training that had injured itself. The gash had started to fester, so he wanted the animal close so they could apply salve twice a day.
That stall door already stood open though, and he peered into the darkness to see if the animal was still inside. A person stood with the gelding, reaching high to wrap a rope around the frightened animal’s neck.
Mandie.
What was she doing? Between the flames and the panicked horses, she would get hurt—maybe killed.
He charged in to help and reached for the rope she’d managed to secure. “I’ll take him. Get back to the house.”
“Go help the rest of the horses. I’ve got him.” She pushed Enoch aside with her body as she tugged the horse forward.
The woman had pluck. And maybe she wasn’t a greenhorn with horses, for the colt took a tentative step forward.
If she could handle this one, he could go save the other three animals. He stepped around the pair to the stall door. “Once you get him out, stay there with him.”
She might be hard-headed, but he didn’t have time to molly-coddle her.
Robert was working to get Enoch’s gelding out, so he moved down to the broodmare in the last stall. Willow was due to foal any day. Hopefully this ordeal wouldn’t put her into early labor. This was to be her first foal since they purchased her, and he had high hopes for the offspring.
He grabbed a rope and jerked the stall’s latch open.
As he pulled the door wide, he sent a glance upward to see the fire’s progress.
On the back wall—not far from where he stood—the flames were eating down the wall.
The ceiling hadn’t fully burned through there, so the inner side of the wood was still dry.
God, stop the fire. Please.
The last thing they needed was to have to rebuild the barn from the ground up. A new roof would be hard enough. And what if the flames leaped to the chicken coop?
He forced his focus back to the mare crowding the rear corner as he stepped into the stall. “Easy, girl. Let’s get you out of here.”
He approached with the rope, but Willow’s eyes rolled white with terror. The smoke was thicker here, and the roar of the flames louder. Sweat ran down his back beneath his damp shirt.
When he reached the mare, he slipped the rope over her neck, then moved the cord higher to a position where he would have more leverage. “All right, girl. Come out where you’ll be safe.”
He tugged the line, but she balked, throwing her head up. “Easy, girl.”
A flash of light outside the stall made her jerk back, and Enoch spun to see the source. A timber fell from the roof, landing on the packed dirt. Flames still licked the fallen wood. Willow probably wouldn’t step foot from her stall with the fire right in front of the opening.
He left the horse and strode from the box to kick the wood out of the way. When his boot struck the timber, it skidded across the barn floor, embers scattering in its wake. He should stop and put the flames out, but they had to get the horses free before he fought the fire.
As he turned back to the stall, a cracking sound split the air.
He looked up as another burning timber dropped from the ceiling. He couldn’t make his feet move fast enough, but his body twisted sideways as he scrambled out of the way of the falling wood.
Pain exploded across the back of his head and his left shoulder and spine as the timber slammed into him, forcing him to his knees.
Heat seared his ear, and he rolled, frantic to get away from the flames.
Were they going out? He could only feel oppressive heat.
Had his shirt caught fire? His hair? His beard?
The haze of smoke clouded around him, clogging his mind and chest.
Hands pulled at him, lifting him. He fought to get his feet underneath him. His left arm ached like the skin had been scraped off with a knife, but he used his other hand to swipe over his head and make sure no flames still lingered.
His hair crinkled, but that might have been straw he’d picked up from the barn floor.
He was on his feet now with his brother gripping one arm.
He shook Robert away, walking on his own. “Are all the horses out?” Maybe he should tell his brother to leave them. They couldn’t risk Robert getting caught by falling wood either.
“Mrs. Beaumont has the last one.”
If he was a swearing man, those words would have brought on a curse. “Get her out of here!” The smoke made his voice rasp.
He couldn’t let her get hurt. He turned back to find the woman himself, but Robert grabbed his good shoulder. “She’s coming. There.”
Enoch blinked to clear the smoke from his eyes. When he opened them, Mandie was leading the broodmare he’d been trying to free. Willow walked beside her, though the mare’s nostrils and eyes flared wide with each step.
Enoch let the pair pass, then trudged toward the barn door with Robert. Men’s voices shouted outside.
He forced himself to stand straighter. To walk faster. Now that the animals were safe, they had to do everything possible to put out the flames.