Chapter 24
JULIAN
I bought this property five years ago, and each wildfire season, I’ve counted my lucky stars that it’s remained unscathed.
Apparently, my luck has finally run out.
The sky is dark, smoke blocking out the sun.
Sirens wail in the distance. The stench of everything burning is so thick my throat aches, and my eyes burn.
The order to evacuate came through about twenty or so minutes ago, and I’ve been panicking ever since.
Princess Pinecone whines, pressing her head against my thigh and panting anxiously.
“I know, babe. I’m working on a plan.” Not that there’s much to plan for.
We got an evacuation order, which means we need to get the fuck out of here.
No time for cutesy expressions or anything fun.
We’re fucked. “Okay, we can do this.” I feign confidence, although I’m frozen to the spot as I try not to have a panic attack.
My brain is throwing a dozen suggestions at me all at once: get PP in the truck and hightail it out of here, hook up the trailer and load up the rest of the animals, figure out where Butler ran off to after breaking down his fence again…
Is curling into a ball and flat out hyperventilating an option? Because that’s about where I’m at.
Like an angel sent to answer my prayers, Ranger’s truck rolls into my driveway just as I’m about to fall to pieces. He throws the thing into Park, then jumps out, leaving Benny, panting as anxiously as PP is, in the cab.
“J, are you okay?” He rushes over to me in long, steady strides, his shoulders squared, and his face etched with a calm authority I’ve never seen there before. “Breathe,” he says firmly, putting his hands on my shoulders as soon as he’s in front of me.
I drag in a deep breath, the heavy scent of smoke filling my nostrils and making my heart flail even more wildly, the animal part of my brain screaming at me that there’s danger.
“I don’t know what to do,” I mutter helplessly, looking out over my fields. The eerie glow of the approaching fire lights up the sky, which grows darker with smoke by the minute.
“I’m running point. Got it?” he says, and I bob my head in agreement, relief washing over me at the fact that he’s level-headed enough to take control right now. “I’ll put PP into my car. Did you pack like I told you to last week?”
I nod numbly. When the fires started getting closer, Ranger told me to have a “go-bag” ready in case we needed to leave without prep time. I shoved a few handfuls of clothes into a bag, a photo album, important documents, and general irreplaceables.
“My animals.” Again, I desperately glance at my field, where my horses are pacing, tossing their heads, neighing loudly.
“We have to turn them loose. I know it sucks, but it’s their best chance at survival. We’ll never get them all loaded into a trailer in time.”
“I can’t leave Doc.” I don’t want to leave any of my animals, but there’s no way Doc would make it on his own.
The horses have a chance, albeit a slim one.
And Butler’s already taken his survival into his own hands by running off, whether I like it or not.
But I can bring Doc. “And my chickens.” They won’t make it either.
The smoke is already too much for them, and they’ll never outrun the fire if it makes it here.
“Fuck,” Ranger mutters. “Okay, you have a trailer for him?” I point toward the side of the barn where I keep the small horse trailer. “Grab your stuff. I’ll hook up the trailer, and then we’ll try to get Doc. If he won’t cooperate, though, I’m sorry we’ll have to leave him.”
My heart squeezes, but I nod. It only takes me a second to get PP into Ranger’s truck, meeting an exciting Benny. Then I run inside to grab my bag. Everything else I leave behind with a silent prayer the house will make it.
When I get back outside, Ranger has the trailer hooked up.
I toss my stuff into the cab of my truck and then haul ass to open all the gates.
The horses are worked up enough that they take off immediately.
Tears spring into my eyes, and I can hardly breathe not just from the thick air but also from not knowing whether I’ll see my horses again.
The girls are next. They flap wildly and wiggle in my arms as I carry them two at a time out to the truck.
I always have a dog kennel strapped down in the bed of the truck in case of an emergency.
I toss Dorothy and Blanche inside, then go back for Rose and Sophia, the latter pecking at me aggressively.
When I rush into the barn, Doc is snorting and pacing inside his stall, banging against the gate frantically.
There’s no way I’ll be able to get a harness on him, so I’m hoping he’ll cooperate and run straight into the trailer just outside the barn entrance.
I cross my fingers and throw open his gate.
He brays and gallops past me. I let out a sigh of relief when I hear the thunderous echo of his hooves on the trailer ramp.
I grab his harness and lead rope off the wall and sprint out of the barn. Ranger is closing up the trailer with my donkey inside.
“Where are we going? Your place?”
“Can’t. We haven’t been given official orders to evacuate yet, but they said on the radio when I was driving over that it’s likely coming for my county in the next few hours.
Let’s head a few hours north and find somewhere to stay for the night.
Follow me. You have your cell in case we lose each other? ”
I pat my pockets until I find it. “I’ve got it.”
“Good. Let’s get going.”
He turns, but I grab his shirt to stop him, pressing a fast but hard kiss to his lips. “Thank you. You saved the day.”
“I’m not good for much, but staying level-headed in a crisis is one area I excel in.”
If I were in any frame of mind to flirt right now, I’d tell him he seems to be good at plenty of things. As it stands, I let him usher me to the driver’s side of my truck. He opens the door and helps me inside.
“Drive safely,” he says firmly.
“Yes, Ranger,” I emphasize his name, his title he’s very much living up to in this moment.
I follow his truck in a bit of a daze, glancing into my rearview mirror frequently to see the wildfire.
It’s both a relief and the strange feeling of missing a step when it’s no longer visible.
I know we’re getting farther away, going somewhere safe, but it’s as if the danger exists in a completely different universe.
I just drove away from my home, from all the things, all the living creatures that mean the most to me, and I have no idea if I’ll ever see them again.
Something tells me I shouldn’t hold my breath for it.
I’m not even sure what city we’re in when Ranger pulls off the highway two hours later, but I follow him blindly. He turns into the parking lot of a motel. It’s empty enough that there’s plenty of room to park my trailer.
Ranger gets out of his truck. PP jumps out as well and barrels past him, while Benny politely waits like a good boy. At least he’s proof I’m a decent trainer.
I sag against the side of my truck, squatting down as PP reaches me and wrapping her in a hug. She presses her head against my chest, her way of hugging me back, and wags her tail.
“I’m going to go check us into a room. I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks,” I say, the word muffled by PP’s fur. Doc brays loudly as Ranger walks away, and I give my dog one more kiss on the head, then stand up and peek through the slats of the trailer. He looks like he’s doing fine, but I need to get him water as soon as possible.
Ranger comes back a few minutes later, a room key clutched in his hand.
“We’ve got the room at the very end.” He points at the last door.
“That’s perfect. I’ll pull the trailer around to the side of the building there. I need to find some water for Doc, and then once it’s dark, we can sneak him into the room.”
“I’m sorry. We can what now?”