Page 144 of The Fire Line

“Smartest thing you ever did,” Harris said.

“Probably.”

The affection was so effortless that Jay’s hand moved toward the camera before he stopped it. The brothers had already given the documentary their labor, decisions, history, and fear. The film did not require every unguarded proof that they loved each other.

By late afternoon, smoke had thickened enough to turn the sun into a pale circle without edges. Horses called across the corrals, and the cattle still in the east section had become harder to move as wind drove smoke through the trees.

Harris came out of the barn carrying two bridles. “We need to bring the east group down.”

Evan looked toward the sky. “I can go.”

“You need to finish loading the north trailers.”

“I’ll do it,” Jay said.

Both brothers turned toward him.

Jay gestured at the bridles. “I know enough to follow instructions.”

“That’s debatable,” Harris said.

“You took me into the mountains twice. Legally, that constitutes confidence.”

Harris assessed him briefly, capability measured against risk with no allowance for pride. “Red’s saddled.”

Jay nodded. “My old colleague.”

“Rain’s with me.”

“You told me she’d earned retirement.”

“Well, she keeps disagreein’.”

The choice made sense when Jay saw the mare waiting beside Red. Rain was older, but she stood more steadily than any of the younger horses while smoke moved across the yard. Harris was not choosing speed. He was choosing the horse least likely to panic when everything became unfamiliar.

Ten minutes later, they rode east while Eli filmed their departure from beside the barn.

* * *

The remaining cattle were bunched against a tree line, agitated by wind and smoke. They pressed together too tightly and repeatedly turned away from the downhill route.

Harris moved Rain along the herd’s outer edge. Jay followed on Red and did exactly what he was told, without creative interpretation.

“Hold there.”

Jay held.

“Come left.”

He moved left.

“Not that close. Give ’em room.”

Jay widened the gap, and the cattle nearest Red stopped trying to break toward the trees.

Gradually, they pushed the herd downhill, closing openings when animals tried to split away and directing them toward the lower-pasture gate.

Smoke moved through the timber in thin sheets. Red stayed tense beneath Jay, reacting to every shift in the smoke and wind.