Sixty
Peter
Ilost my patience.
What had started as a gentle wash escalated into hot passion within seconds. Sarah pushed against me, her thigh clenching as I consumed the desperate sounds coming from her lips. Our mouths and hands were open, roaming, and greedy. And every single time she moved I grew dizzy with need.
My tongue swept over hers as I kissed her deeply, squeezing her tighter as she melted in my arms.
She dropped her leg, launching up to anchor herself around my neck.
Somehow, in all the movement, we knocked the curtain behind us, which caused a cool wave of air to enter the shower.
And a very strange smell.
Even though I was still kissing Sarah, the smell pulled me out of the moment.
Annoyed, I lifted my head. Maybe my brain was just playing tricks…
Sarah clamored for me, her dazed voice slurring, “Wait—come back down here.”
“Hang on.” I tapped the curtain again, and sure enough, there was the smell.
I took a deep drag of the air, instantly recognizing it.
A campfire.
I blinked, confused.
Sarah stood up straighter, releasing her hold on me. “What’s wrong?”
“I smell a campfire.”
“Oh. That’s weird. Do guests sometimes have them?”
I shook my head. “Never. On certain nights, there will be a fire pit for guests to roast marshmallows and stuff, but that’s after dinner. It’s what? Close to ten o’clock probably?”
“Huh. That’s weird.” Her hands came back to my shoulders, ready to put it out of her mind. But as I leaned down to kiss her, I smelled it again. This time, I didn’t even have to open the curtain.
I pulled back. “Sarah, something is on fire.”
She hesitated. “Do you want to go check?”
“Yeah. I think I need to make sure everything is okay.”
“Alright.” The disappointment in her voice was unmistakable, but I didn’t stop to comfort her or make promises about resuming in a few minutes. The smell distracted my brain, sending tiny surges of adrenaline into my blood stream. Red flags whipped around in my gut, and I had to find out why.
I’d wished I’d slowed down long enough to take off my jeans before washing Sarah, because they hung heavy on my hips, resisting my legs. Stepping out of the shower, the smell overcame me. I dropped to my hands and knees, looking for the shoes I’d tossed. “Sarah!” I yelled, suddenly frantic.
She stepped out.
“Do you see anything? Smoke? Flames?” I found a shoe.
“It’s so dark…uhm…oh, wait! Oh no!”
“What?!” Yanking it onto my wet foot, I found the other.
“There’s smoke! It’s coming from the other side of the big house.”
“Like from the barnyard?”
“Yes! The barnyard.”
“Dammit.” I knew that should not be. “Put on your clothes and go get Bea.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find the fire.” With that, I turned and took off, up the gravel driveway, thankful I’d had the chance to travel the path a hundred times before.
By the time I had passed the cabins, Sarah’s footsteps crunched up the driveway behind me.
And by the time I turned the corner of the big house, Sarah was banging and calling, “Bea! Bea! There’s a fire! ”
In the barnyard, I slowed, gathering my bearings.
Smoke hung heavy in the air and the licking of flames popped and crackled. Heat radiated from my right side, the fire big enough to feel from a distance. A horse whinnied and banged against their stall.
The barn.
The barn was on fire.
Digging my heels in, I sprinted toward the bunkhouse, hoping no one had parked in an unusual spot. Bursting through the door, I yelled. “Get up! The barn’s on fire.” I smacked my hand on the light switch.
Groans of protest filled the space.
Harlan moaned. “What’s goin’ on?”
“The barn is on fire. Hurry!”
Men started moving, ripping back blankets, putting feet on the floor.
Surprised I hadn’t heard Cooper, I moved to his bunk to shake him.
But his bed was still made—empty.
A flash of panic shot through me. “Where is Cooper?”
“Oh, no.” The dread in Harlan’s voice was palpable as he put two and two together. “I think he was reading.”
I swore and bolted back through the bunkhouse door, catching myself on the railing as I stumbled over the threshold.
Yelling his name, I neared the barn doors, only hesitating long enough to establish that the fire was at the front of the barn, climbing up the wall of the grooming wing on the right side.
That meant I should be able to use the ladder.
Which was right next to my barrel.
I knew exactly how many steps were required.
Counting aloud, I plunged through the doors.
Four steps deep, ten steps down the left wing.
My fingers immediately found purchase on the ladder and I threw myself up the rungs, shouting his name the entire time.
The grooming wing shared a wall with Tillie’s stall and, based on where Cooper typically moved around when he was reading, I gauged his favorite spots to be right above Tillie’s stall and right at the opening of the loft doors.
Either way, depending on how big this fire was, Cooper was close.
Too close.
Didn’t Ben tell me once that toxic fumes put people into a deeper sleep? And smoke inhalation was the leading cause of fire-related deaths?
The idea of Cooper sound asleep above a raging fire…
I climbed faster.
Finding the loft floor, I pushed up, launching myself in. The smoke up there was dense, and I wished I’d put my hoodie back on so I could use it to protect my airway. All I could do was hold my breath, taking little sips of air only when absolutely necessary.
“Cooper! Where are you?” Staying low, I crawled on all fours, swiping the hay as I beelined across the empty space, angling my trajectory toward the front of the loft.
“Cooper!” The boards beneath my hands grew hot, vibrating.
The air scorched my skin, beading sweat around my neck.
I didn’t sense any active flames in the loft yet, but I knew the moment the fire reached the hay, the entire top half of the barn would instantly engulf in flames.
Swallowing me and Cooper with it.
My throat began to tickle.
I forced myself to just focus. “Cooper!”
Shouts gathered near the door of the barn. I recognized Harlan’s voice barking orders.
A stall door banged open and then came a yah! yah!
Hooves pounded.
I started to cough.
My hand struck a boot, and my fingers instantly curled around it, not wasting any precious seconds trying to rouse him. I found Cooper’s other boot then moved my hands to his knees, dragging him backward to the ladder.
Sarah yelled my name.
Harlan’s voice materialized at the bottom of the ladder. “Peter, I’m right here!”
I nearly melted with relief.
“Three more steps,” Harlan said.
One…two…three.
I stopped, dropping Cooper’s knees and Harlan tugged from his stance on the ladder, easily pulling Cooper down and easing him to someone below.
I realized Rudy was down there, too. I followed them down and out into the barnyard where I took a deep breath of fresh air as they laid Cooper flat on the gravel.
Sarah rushed forward and dropped to his side.
Bea and Hollie were both there, each talking on the phone.
Bea said, “It looks like he fell asleep. No—no, I don’t see any burns—”
Yah! Yah!
More hooves pounded through the barn.
Having a bit of first aid training, Sarah leaned down, hovering her face over Cooper’s for a few long beats. She exhaled a sigh of relief. “He’s breathing.”
“Come on,” I hissed. “Wake up, buddy.”
“Recovery position,” Sarah said. “Just in case.”
Familiar with the position since it was protocol after a seizure, I helped Sarah roll Cooper to his side, propping his knee against the ground and his arm under his head.
Gently lifting his head onto his bicep, I touched his hair for the first time.
Instead of finding a short cut like most men I knew, my fingers touched long strands, knotted at the base of his neck.
Did he have long hair when I met him at Bea’s wedding?
I couldn’t remember.
I recognized the smell of hose water as Hollie called out, “Harlan, they’re too far. It’ll take fifteen minutes—at least.”
Harlan panted at the air as water jetted into the gravel. “It’ll be gone by then.”
Gone?
Sarah rubbed between Cooper’s shoulder blades, softly encouraging, “Just keep breathing. You’re doing great.”
As if Cooper had heard her, his entire body rattled with a deep, wheezing breath. A coughing fit bent him at the waist, his head rolling onto the gravel, sucking in oxygen.
“He’s waking up,” Sarah said.
Then Cooper moaned, the sound interrupted by more violent gasps. “Ah—ow—what—what happened?”
At the sound of his voice, my head fell forward with relief.
He tried to sit up. “Ah—my head—agh.”
I pushed him back. “Stay down.”
“What—happened?”
“The barn’s on fire.”
“What?” Coughing again, he twisted on the gravel in order to look behind him. “The barn!”
“Yeah, you fell asleep up there.” I shook my head. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“The barn…” His voice was hollow.
As I stood up to find a way to pitch in somehow, I painfully realized the former commotion had screeched to a halt. No one was running, yelling, screaming, spraying water. The only sound filtering out of the dark was the hungry pop of violent flames.
“Where’s Harlan?” I asked, breathless.
“Right here.” He stood about ten feet to my left.
“What do we do?”
“Nothin’—there’s nothin’ we can do.” A fwooosh sound over our head proved that the loft was in flames. The crackles came from deep in the corridor now, the fire was spreading inward—front to back. A groan, like a log snapping in two, pierced the night, followed by a loud tumble.
Sarah sniffled beside me. “The roof—it’s caving.”
“What about the fire department?” I asked.
Hollie said “It’s volunteer run. They’re sending a truck, but…”
It might be too late.
Sarah’s hand slipped into the crook of my arm, and I placed my hand over hers. My chest was suddenly so tight I couldn’t breathe.
Bea softly cried.
Hollie’s voice shook as she spoke up. “Is everyone okay? Anybody hurt?” Once Hollie was satisfied that we were all safe, she attempted to lift the morale. “We got the heartbeats out—that’s what matters. Tag has good insurance. It’s going to be okay, guys.”
Tag.
I didn’t want to think about him.
Or the fact that his grandfather’s barn was turning into a pile of char.
Sarah broke the silence. “Cooper needs to go to the emergency room.”
“What?” Rocks skittered as Cooper rushed to stand. “No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. Smoke inhalation is the main reason people die from fires.”
“I’m not going,” Cooper’s voice rumbled with sudden rage. “And no one is making me.”
My head reared back in surprise at his tone.
Sarah protested. “You could seem fine for up to two days before respiratory distress starts—”
“I don’t care, Sarah.”
Hollie said Cooper’s name, but he stalked off toward the bunkhouse and slammed the door behind him. A frown pulled into my brow—why the hell was he being so touchy?
Hollie’s voice softened, talking to us now. “Dispatch is sending an ambulance. I’ll go talk to him.” Her footsteps trailed after Cooper.
Harlan instructed everyone to watch the perimeter of the barn.
Even though the hose wouldn’t save the barn, it would be useful if the fire tried to spread.
Sarah, Hollie, and Bea stood watch while the cowboys disappeared to pasture the horses.
When they returned to take over, Bea called Tag, tearfully filling him in as she paced the driveway.
The rodeo had just ended, and Jesse and Tag were scheduled to leave early tomorrow and arrive home late morning, but Tag promised to head back tonight—as soon as they got the horses loaded up.
Sarah and I waited awkwardly, hand-in-hand, wanting to support somehow. Even from a distance, the flames warmed my face.
“Peter, this is so sad.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“Honestly, Bea and Hollie are pretty upset. Maybe we can check on the kids for them.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Sarah and I walked down to the cabins, starting at the Holmes’. A quick peek down their hallway proved the girls were blissfully unaware of the commotion outside the cabin. But the moment we stepped onto Bea’s porch, we heard tiny wails coming from inside the house.
“Oh no!” Sarah rushed down the hall and pushed open the nursery door. “You poor baby!”
But Wren cried louder. “Uh Pee! Uh Pee!”
“She wants you.”
I reached for her. “Hey, Wren. It’s okay.”
She threw herself into my arms, immediately curling into my shoulder, her cries quieting a little. “Mama?”
“She’ll be back soon. Want me to rock you?”
She nodded, starting to suck on her fingers.
“Can you grab her blanket?”
“Yes.” Sarah pulled it from her bed then tucked it around Wren.
I eased into the rocking chair, patting her little back as I launched into a slow rocking motion.
Quiet wooden groans filled the quiet, and pretty soon Wren’s breaths deepened, and her slobbery fingers slipped out of her mouth. Loving the way Wren’s little body perched against my chest, I dreaded leaving, lingering longer than necessary.
“You like this, huh?” Sarah whispered.
“I do.”
She hummed. “Shirtless and holding a baby is a good look on you. I’m getting wild thoughts right now.”
“What kind of thoughts?”
“Thoughts like I need your baby in me—immediately.”
My lips twitched with a smile. “You never told me if you want to keep that appointment, by the way.”
“Oh, I thought me throwing myself at you was a clear answer.”
The snark in her voice made me chuckle. Returning to our usual banter felt great. “I’m pretty sure I understood.”
She moved through the dark, closer to me. “I’m excited for it.”
“Me too.”
Her face appeared at my shoulder as she looked at Wren. “I wonder if our baby will be this beautiful.”
“With you as a mom? Absolutely.” With my free hand, I reached up to slip my hand around Sarah’s chin. Gently, I drew her face to mine, kissing her warm and eager lips.
She pulled back. “You know…the fire was very rude to interrupt us like that.”
“Mm. It was.”
“When do we get to resume?”
I placed one more tender kiss on her lips. “I think we should stick around to help first.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
At that, I put Wren back in her crib and grabbed the baby monitor that Bea had left on the kitchen counter. Then we returned to the barn to find flashing emergency lights, a team of men, and a jet stream of water hitting the dwindling flames.