Cowboy Heart (Historical Western Romance) (Longren Family series #3, Kitty and Lukes story) (12 page)

             
"We're all going.  We have to get the herd out."

              The fire chased us back to the ranch.  I'd have given a lot to have it in front of us rather than behind.  Running from it was terrifying.  Phantom flames flickered from the corners of my eyes.

             
Not always phantom.  The fire was coming, out of control, jumping fire breaks.

             
"What about the ranch?" I asked Juan because he was beside me.

             
"There are breaks all over," he said. "Rock walls. Barren spots. The yard is mostly dirt."

             
"There are breaks in the trees, too," I said.

             
He nodded but didn't answer.

             
Back at the ranch, the ranch hands yelled back and forth to each other, each seemingly knowing what he was meant to do.  I remained on my horse, confused, until Luke shouted to me to go inside and get William and Sarah and pack anything I needed to take.

             
I'd come to Big Sky with almost nothing.  There was nothing I needed to take except family.  I rode all the way to the porch and left the horse tied off there.  My boots sounded loud on the porch.  My thoughts were with Robert.  He'd gone with the Sheriff, after a man who had shot Sarah's husband.  I wanted to be wherever he was, know what he was going through.

             
"We're taking the cattle," I said, as if I were a part of that.  I had no idea how to drive cattle. 

             
Sarah looked up from where she sat with William.  "I have to get the documents," she said.

             
William swung his legs off the davenport and stood, clearly in pain but neither drunk nor on any kind of morphine.

             
"I'll get the horses," he said.

             
"You can't," Sarah and I both protested.

             
He didn't answer, just went out.  Sarah said, "Help me," and ran for the kitchen.

             
"Where are you going?"

             
"Documents," she said and dug into the cold pantry, digging them out of piles of earth and potatoes.  "Mortgage, loans."

             
"Clothes?  Guns?  Food?" I asked.

             
"We can stay with friends, eventually family.  If we have to, we can drive the cattle to Alturas, stay with Mother's parents."

             
"What can I carry?"  Almost everything I owned was back in Virginia City.  I could do without different clothes, could wait until we arrived somewhere.  I could carry for her.

             
"Photos," Sarah said.  "The trunk by my bed.  You should bring a wrap and blankets for us.  It's cold at night."  She took just enough time to stare at me.  "Do you have a dress?"

             
"Yes," I said
with no intention of getting it
.  I went for her photos, blankets and wraps for both of us—the blue one Cynthia Getties had handed me on the trail was thrown across Sarah's bed. 

             
William had reappeared when I came downstairs.  Sweat stood out on his forehead.  Just moving jostled his shoulder and pained him.

             
Outside, the smoke was becoming worse, coiling up into the blue sky in black waves.  Thick billows of gray drifted into the yard.  William had brought Mike and one of the wagons.  The hands were coming out of the ranch house carrying packs, everyone running.  Horses were being saddled, dogs were running wildly, barking.

             
"You go with Kitty," William told Sarah, and kissed her in a way that made me long for Robert—and strangely, for Luke.  The thought of both of them made me start up in panic.  I didn't know where either was.

             
Sarah took the reins.  William had hitched two of the faster horses.  I piled in beside her.  All over the yard, men were yelling, mounting horses, calling to the dogs and getting ready to ride the herd.

             
The smoke was bad.  "Go that way," I said, pointing to the east exit from the yard.

             
"This is faster," Sarah said, grimly.             

             
"I want to see."  I was craning my neck as if I could see around the buildings, spot what was happening in the east and north pastures, whether I could see any of the hands I could identify.

             
Sarah sighed.  "I do too."  She turned the horses, drove us in that direction.

             
Flames were heading down into the north pasture, just beginning.  Big Sky was going to lose grazing land. 
Not anything else,
I prayed.  This was Sarah's life.

             
She turned the horses again, started for the front gate.  Men were pumping water now, bringing up buckets, getting ready to stave off the fire as long as they could.  Other hands were in the pens, freeing the cattle, starting the drive.

             
We made it to the end of the first approach to the ranch before I grabbed the reins in Sarah's hands.  "Stop!"

             
She batted at me, stared, appalled. "What are you doing?"

             
I was already jumping from the wagon.  "The two calves!" I shouted.  They'd been separate, the calves and their mothers.  "I'm going back."

             
"Kitty, you can't!" She was trying to turn the horses but they balked, refusing.

             
"Just go, Sarah."  I turned and ran, scared that I was too far away, scared that something would happen—Sarah would follow me, William would get hurt, fall from his horse because his arm wouldn't support him, something would happen to Robert or Luke, I couldn't stand the thought of either being hurt.  There were too many people I cared about all of a sudden, nothing at all like the day I'd come to Big Sky when I'd felt abandoned by everyone in my life, Johnny gone, Sissy triumphant, Sarah too far away, my mother engaged and busy.

             
I ran.  I heard a voice behind me.  "Go, Sarah, William's counting on you getting out, go to Lord's Acres."

             
Then, behind me, I heard hooves drumming hard and fast.  I moved off the track, spun to look and saw Luke bearing down on me.  He reined to a stop, held out his hand, gave me a stirrup.  I shoved a boot in, grabbed his hand, pulled myself up behind him, and he kicked the horse instantly, flying forward.

             
"Where are you going?" he shouted.

             
"There are two calves and their mothers
in the small barn, they—"
              "I know the ones." 

             
Wind in my face where I clung to him, I stared over his shoulder.  The distance fell behind us.  I felt utterly safe behind him, like he'd never let me fall.  I could see the ranch house, the bunkhouse, the outbuildings and barns.  No fire had reached them yet.  There were ranch hands and dogs everywhere, getting the animals out, riding backlit by the storm clouds lowering and the fire burning down from the north ranch.

             
The flames were coming down fast, burning through the pastures.  The barn with the calves and their mothers was farther than some of the other outbuildings.  Sarah had wanted to keep the calves separate from the other cows, less fear of the weak young things becoming sick. The barn the milkers were kept in was just north of the ranch house and east of the bunkhouse.  The stream Getties kept damming ran from the north behind the milk cow barn.

             
The barn with the calves and their mothers was to the east.  A line of fire rapidly approached it.

             
"Faster," I whispered to Luke.

             
He gave no indication of hearing me.  The horse galloped, jumped the creek easily.  I slid from the horse before Luke had completely reined it in.  He was right behind me, leading the horse, which jittered, nervous from the oncoming flames.

             
The barn door was shut.  I heaved at it, got nowhere, and felt Luke behind me pressing the reins into my hands so he could use both arms to spring the door open. 

             
The air inside was heavy with smoke.  I could hear the calves bellowing, the mothers lowing and pacing.  They were in the closest stall. 

             
"Stay with the horse.  Get back on!" He moved away from me in the haze of smoke and thick sunlight.  Clouds were gathering heavier, thunder rumbling but a good distance off.  Another dry thunderstorm might spell the end of Big Sky Ranch but rain would be a godsend.

             
I clamored back onto the horse, held the reins, and waited for Luke while stepping the horse around out of the way of the cows that came barreling out now, all four of them bellowing, charging past me, heading for the escape promised by the open barn door.

             
Luke remounted instantly, slapped the horse forward, following the cows and their calves, guiding them toward the herd that streamed southward. 

             
Lightning struck again.  There was another long pause before the thunder.

             
"If it rains?" I yelled.

             
"Pray," Luke yelled back.

             
The black and white dogs began harrying the cows, barking and guiding, forcing them forward.  Luke pushed them, moving so surely with every move, cutting the horse in and out, harrying the cows toward the herd until they saw the rest of the herd moving in a stream of brown and white and ran to join them, the calves staying close to their mothers.

             
We didn't have the same luck. A gust of wind came up, fanning the flames, and the horse shied back.  In seconds, the yard was cut off, fire moving south and east, taking out the pastures, the wind blowing it away from the structures but keeping us penned in.

             
I slid down from the horse.

             
"What are you doing?" Luke demanded.  "We have to get out."

             
"Horses in the corral!"  I could see them beyond the blowing smoke, three of them, maybe saddled for the trail team that hadn't ridden out. I didn't know and didn't care; I just needed to get to them.  "We'll move faster with two horses."

             
Luke nodded, wheeled the horse around, and followed me.  The three in the stall whinnied and thrashed.  I saw another hand coming back for them, there were still ranch hands running everywhere on the ranch property.  We converged at the corral with Luke right behind me.

             
"Go," the hand said, simply, and picked me up as if I weighed nothing, slinging me onto the saddle.  I grabbed hold and nudged the horse sharply.  Luke turned again, facing south, letting the flames lead us.  The houses were still untouched, might remain so if the wind didn't change.

             
Or if it rained.  Thunder again, closer this time.  I followed Luke, staying to the west of the stream, to the west of the line of fire burning down to the south, staying just on the other side of the stream, the last of the fire breaks to actually hold.

             
We made the gates of the ranch at the tail end of the herd when the lightning and thunder split overhead simultaneously and the deluge began.  Within seconds, I was soaked, trousers clinging to me, shirt cold and clinging.  Luke wheeled around and I saw the wildness on his face again, and I began to laugh.

             
Ahead of us on the trail, heading south and west, probably to David Lord's property, the herd plodded, no longer running.  Mud splashed up where the last in the herd trod.  Rain streamed down, thunder and lightning sounding over and over.  I'd never felt so wet, or so free.  I pulled the horse around, rode in a circle around Luke, who stared at me as if I'd gone mad and, yes, we needed to follow the herd, and, of course, I had to stop laughing eventually, even now the Big Sky Ranch could be threatened, but surely the fires were out by now or going out, they couldn't sustain themselves in the rain that slashed down, now driven by wind, could they?

             
Luke, watching me, his head tilted, expression wary, slowly began to smile.  The smile transformed his face, from somber and tan to bright and handsome.  I'd missed his smile, missed him, truth be told, I was used to having a friend who was male, used to Johnny, and Luke had filled that space.

             
A thought that made me pause.  Had he?  Filled that space? 

             
"Kathryn—" he started.

             
"—Kathryn Collins!"  The bellow came from behind us, someone riding back up past the herd, from the south.