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Megan looked him in the eye and brought her lips together, kissing him fully as she placed her hands on the muscles of his bare chest. She loved him. His strength, his kindness, his gentle side, his sense of duty. He was made for her.
To prove her point, she pressed her body against his, chest to chest, and pulled him back down with her so they got swept up again in the love of each other’s bodies, pushing to new heights until they collapsed together in each other’s arms.
They lay entwined together for several minutes, each trying to catch their breath as they panted in unison.
“I can see your heart beating.”
Megan glanced down and smiled to herself. “A mile a minute.”
He leaned over and planted a reverent kiss right on her breast where the muscle was pumping under the skin before resting his head there with his eyes closed. His breathing changed, and she could tell he was falling asleep.
“Let’s get some sleep, you,” she said, taking a big breath when he raised his head above her.
He smiled and kissed her again before clicking off the light. Megan got up and found her pajamas on the floor and tugged them on before looking out at the night sky again.
That’s when she saw the all too familiar orange glow coming from the barn.
CHAPTER50
The cats scattered out of his way as Troy ripped open the door. The cold dark air hit his bare legs as he sprinted in his sleep shorts and boots following Megan’s shadow, two steps ahead of him, over the ground toward the barn.
This was his nightmare. The horses were trapped, just like Simon. They would either burn, suffocate, or kill themselves trying to fight against their stalls for freedom.
The orange glow from the barn flicked in the night, greedily consuming all of the dry wood and hay stored inside. It had to be the damn trough heaters. Maybe a squirrel, frayed wire…hell, it could’ve been lightning for all he knew. Barn fires were a rancher’s worst nightmare. Fire was his own worst nightmare.
Images of Simon came back to him, his eyes looking out with terror while his mouth stretched in a scream. He tried to fight it back, struggling to stay grounded and not give in to the panic. Flashes of his mom, Adam, his dad, and the horses all swirled together in a looping, racing thought that rivaled the pounding in his head. Troy stumbled, caught himself, but dropped his phone somewhere in the dark. Troy fell to his knees to search the cold, hard-packed grass.
Megan stopped and called out, but he didn’t answer her, hearing her double back to check on him. She slid down and started searching as well. He thought she asked him if he was okay, but again, he didn’t answer.
Troy was searching and searching, counting the seconds while trying to stave off the memories from the past, channeling that energy to ground him. The ground was cold, hard, and damp, just like a can. He could feel the sharp blades of grass pulling him back down to the moment into the emergency at hand. Finally, his hand touched the smooth surface of glass. After a quick exhale of relief he snatched it and was running again.
Megan nodded once and did the same. It had been only a matter of seconds in a moment when every second mattered.
The smell of smoke burned the inside of his nose, and he tried to dial while running. His hand was shaking and full of sweat. Giving up, he just hit the button three times on the side, triggering the emergency call. Troy held his phone to his ear.
“911 what’s your emergency?”
“My barn’s on fire,” he shouted while running. “Horses are inside.”
“What’s your location?”
Troy rattled off the address through panting breath, reaching the pool of light emanating from within the old structure. Paint was peeling off the old wooden walls, and the sound of steam was coming from somewhere. The frantic whinnies of the horses trapped inside echoed through the dark night in a scream for mercy. Sounds of banging and splintering wood mixed with pops from the flames.
Megan reached the structure first and threw open the barn door, and a stream of smoke fled the scene, racing up to the dark sky. The rush of cold air fed the flames, which grew right in front of them. His heart pounded at the sight while the thrum of blood raced through his ears, making him dizzy and sick all at once. He stood rooted to the spot and swayed, holding his head to try and keep the nightmares and memories at bay.
Megan turned to him, dark in the night, lit from behind by the flames of hell. Gone was the shy, ethereal girl. He was looking into the eyes of a warrior who had seen hell and was willing and ready to go back. He knew those eyes and had seen them in seasoned veterans before. The wind from the fire pushed her red curls around her head in a fiery halo. She stood tall, her shoulders set, her arms tensed, poised and sprung for a fight.
He already knew what was about to happen. Just like Simon. It was just like Simon. He couldn’t lose her too.
Troy reached out and grabbed her arm to pull her close to him and never let go, but the look in her eyes did more to stop him. It steadied him and soothed his panicked soul. He let go of her arm and watched her movements.
The world slowed, and it was as if someone turned down the volume of the fire and horses.
Megan somehow knew what he needed. She turned to face fully toward him, never taking her gaze off him, her shoulders shifting with the weight of her responsibility, training, and experience. She was made for this moment.
She stopped right in front of him and looked directly into his eyes. “I’m going to go in there and get them out.”
Her voice was calm and steady, and all he could do was nod his head, still clutching the phone somewhere near his hip. He had no idea if the dispatcher was still listening or not.
