My eyes water from the smoke, and my chest aches from all the coughing.
Brandon has his side done before Sam and I clear ours, and it’s enough space for a horse. As three of us disperse in unison to unlock the latches on the stalls, I hear the blare of a fire engine horn.
Gracias a Dios.
A beam overhead lets out a long groan. I look up just in time to spot glowing embers raining down from the rafters.
“Look out!” I shout and shove Sam to the side as a burning board crashes where he’d been standing moments earlier.
The first horse I come to is Willow, a chestnut mare with white spots all over her hindquarters. “Easy,niña,” I say in hopes of calming her, but it doesn’t work. Instead, I lift and slide the latch. Willow kicks the gate open and sprints to the way out. Duke follows Willow. Bandit nearly knocks me over trying to get outside.
When we’re done, I follow the same path the horses took. My ribs ache from coughing. Every breath burns from the thickening smoke.
Being the last to exit, I stumble out and fall on my knees in the snow.
A breath of fresh air has a whole new meaning for me now, as I finally breathe in untainted oxygen.
I’m almost tackled to the ground as a pair of feminine arms enwrap me in a desperate embrace, and the scent of amber, sprinkled with vanilla, fills my nose.
Blake.
When she pulls back, I search every inch for an injury. “Are you okay? Let me look at you.”
Her brows almost lift off her face. “Me? You’re burned.”
Blake’s statement brings the pain to the front of my mind. A few spots on my arms feel as if they have the world’s worst sunburn, but they’re nothing compared to my right palm. My hand throbs in a way I’ve never felt before.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Blake reaches for my wounded hand and carefully flips it over. Her motions reveal the blisters covering my palm.
“This looks like a second-degree burn.”
“That’s all?” I question sarcastically.
Blake doesn’t laugh at my humor. “Come on. The ambulance just pulled up.”
Sure enough, the red and white truck comes to a stop behind the fire engine.
Blake helps me to my feet, and I suppress a groan. Every muscle in my body is sore. Blake places my arm across her shoulders and attempts to carry my weight.
I take a rough swallow and ask, “Did everyone get out?”
“You got everyone. Man and horse,” Blake assures me.
As we hobble in the direction of the ambulance, Hudson jumps out of the cab and rushes toward us. Hudson takes my other arm with my injured hand and helps us the rest of the way.
Glancing around, I find the entire fire department present, rushing about to put out the fire.
My eyes snag on the burning building, and it hits me.
My barn is gone.
My father built half of this place with his own hands. I grew up here. My mother walked those aisles every day.
Now it’s gone.
And someone tried to kill the woman I love.
