“I think he loves you, too.” Nate led boy and horse to the fence. “Thanks for being patient, Emily. You can ride again, and then we’ll unsaddle Buckwheat and let him out into the field so he can graze, okay?”
Emily smiled bright as sunshine, clambered over the fence, and waited for Nate to lift her into the saddle. He adjusted the stirrups and then gave her the reins.
“You’re all set.
Emily had been riding since she was four and didn’t need his help. She moved Buckwheat smoothly into a walk and then a trot, her laughter making his heart constrict. It was one of the most beautiful sounds in his world.
Emily and her mother had accepted him despite the terrible scars that disfigured half his face and body. They’d brought him back to life when he’d thought he had no reason to live. No, Emily wasn’t his biological child. He had adopted her when he and Megan had gotten married, and he loved her every bit as much as he loved his son.
Her biological father had been a drug dealer who had used and abused Megan, fueling her heroin addiction, getting her pregnant, then abandoning her and her unborn baby to prison. Emily had seen that bastard only once, though she’d had no idea who he was. He’d broken into Megan’s home demanding money. Emily had seen him hurt Megan. She’d also witnessed his death. Nate had found him about to rape Megan and had ended the son of a bitch’s life with a double tap. One day, when Emily was older, Nate would have to explain to her that the man he’d killed that terrible night was her biological father.
But not today.
Chase climbed up on the fence beside him to watch his cousin ride, a big smile on his face. He looked so much like his father—a mini-Marc.
“Uncle Nate said you could stay here for a week if you want to,” Sophie said. “Do you think you’d like that?”
Chase gaped at his mother. “Hell, yes!”
Nate tried not to laugh. “He’s been spending too much time with my old man.”
Sophie shook her head. “I think he may have gotten that from his father.”
Then Nate saw Chuck, the foreman, hurrying toward them.
“What’s up?”
“The fire—it’s grown a lot in the past few minutes. It’s not a column of smoke now. Looks to me like it’s turned into the real thing.”
“Shit.” Nate followed Chuck to the other side of the corral where buildings wouldn’t block his view of the mountains.
Chuck pointed, but Nate didn’t need help finding it.
“Holy hell.”
What had been a wispy column of smoke had grown into a wall.
“Get on the radio and get the men moving. My father will want us to head up to Scarlet with every horse trailer we have before they close the highways. They’ll be evacuating the areas west of town, I’m sure, and some folks won’t be home to move their horses. They’ll need our help to save their animals.”
“On it.”
Nate turned back toward the corral to give his daughter the bad news that her ride was being cut short. He would be driving one of the trailers.
But Sophie stood behind him, her gaze fixed on the smoke, fear in her eyes. “Marc and Julian are still up there.”
Nate knew what Sophie had been through this past year and a half. He’d grappled with PTSD himself thanks to an IED and third-degree burns. He knew how it felt when your mind believed you were just another breath away from some new terror.
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “They’re with McBride and Sheriff Pella. They’ll be safe.”
Chapter 7
Brandon worked the hose,dousing spot fires, while Hawke drove the brush truck. The air was choked with smoke now, the heat intense as upcanyon winds breathed life into the blaze.
He heard in his earpiece when Hawke again pushed Robertson and Sheriff Pella for state and federal support.
“We’re losing any hope of containing this thing. Initial attack is going to fail. We need a couple of type-one crews and aircraft now!”
This time Roberson agreed. “We’ve got ladder fuels igniting, spot fires popping up across the road and—”