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Megan nodded once and turned on her heel, sprinting into the fire. Only then did he realize she was barefoot.
As if someone had taken their finger off the pause button, all of the noise came back at once. The roar of the flames, the screams of the horses, the pounding of their hooves against the stalls.
A searing pain shot from behind his eyes, and he pressed his shaking hand against his head to stop the pain, fighting to breathe through the smoke and memories and keep an eye on Megan’s outline in the barn before it disappeared into the smoke.
CHAPTER51
Megan threw the first two latches without a problem. The metal must’ve been scalding, but for all she knew it was mildly warm and gave her a tingly sensation. The real problem was trying to coax the crazed animals out of the pens that they associated with safety and urge them to run toward freedom, even if that meant running through fire first.
The smoke was quickly overtaking the barn, and the panic that the animals were in meant they were sucking in even more. She had to move fast. For their sake and for hers. The heat didn’t bother her, but the smoke did. Her lungs were already getting scratchy. She tried to pull up her pajama top over her nose, but the neckline was plunging and wouldn’t go. She was stuck, and time was not on her side.
The first two had stopped bucking long enough for them to realize the door was open, fleeing toward the exit where she hoped Troy would be able to catch them later.
That wasn’t a today problem. Horses were herd animals and would eventually group up somewhere on the ranch. She threw another latch, and this time the animal didn’t even flinch.
She ducked inside the stall, grabbed the big bay by the bridle and steered him toward the open door. Despite it being a large door, the smoke obscured everything, making it hard to see the massive exit. The door being opened had literally fueled the flames.
The fire was climbing to the roof now. The corner that housed the tack room was totally engulfed. That was where the switch was for the main trough heater. It must have been that. That was the only change. From there, the flames were greedily climbing toward the roof and spreading over other stalls.
A gust of cold wind fanned the flames even more, but caught the bay’s attention who lurched forward when she threw her arm into the bridle.
Three down, three to go, and her lungs had gone from scratchy to burning now. Megan tried to swallow past it and keep going. The pounding of hooves against the stalls and frantic whinnies echoed through the roar of the flames. She headed back toward the other three, fighting her way through the thick black smoke. Sparks and bits of hay on fire were floating upward on the draft, creating a look of descending into hell despite standing right where she was.
Megan reached the next stall and threw the latch. Not waiting for an invitation, the horse was gone. The next one, a horse with a beautiful copper coat, had almost broken the stall door completely and was close to working his own way to freedom.
“Stop, stop, stop!” she cried out to the crazed animal, desperate for freedom. One big brown eye rolled over, exposing the whites before it centered on her.
“Stop!” The pounded ceased, and she threw the latch and pressed herself flat against the stall out of the way, holding it open. As the copper gelding ran by, she could see the sheen of sweat shining in the glow of the fire as the animal bolted for freedom. She knew it was warm but could clearly see it must have been scalding inside.
She was gasping now, fighting to breathe through the smoke. Her chest was burning, which was ironic.
One horse left.
Megan tugged up the thin flimsy fabric of her pajama shirt, which did nothing to stop the burning in her chest. She had to get this last one out and run for herself.
A loud crack above her was a sure warning she had to go. Her body’s own fight or flight was kicking in now with memories of Buzz screaming in her ear to get out and let it go. She had pushed it too far last time and had taken heat for it. God, would he be pissed if he knew about this. He would want her to go.
But the last horse was Braxton. Troy’s favorite. She had no choice. Megan pushed off the wall and tried to run to his stall.
Braxton was the biggest, strongest, and meanest horse. The pummeling of the stall was a testament to that, and the fact that the latch was still holding strong had earned it a five-star endorsement.
“Stop!” Megan tried to yell over his frantic whinnies, but it came out like a cough as she dragged in breath from the effort, only pulling in more smoke.
She tried to pull the latch, but the constant pounding wouldn’t let her throw the catch.
Braxton was frenzied, and sweat was dripping down his dark coat. The whites of his eyes were clearly visible, showing his stress. They were the farthest back from the exit, and he wouldn’t stop moving.
Her hands fumbled with the catch again and again, until she yanked it free and pulled it back, but nothing happened.
The other one. The one that Troy’s dad had been so adamant on installing held firm.
Nearly blind, Megan fumbled over the frantic kicking, each powerful thrust throwing the door without the first catch, until her hand touched the warm metal. She tugged once, readjusted, and with a clang threw the door back, getting smacked in between it and the wall as he bolted into the smoke. His coat was the same color as the smoke in the air around him, and she couldn’t track him or anything else anymore.
The smoke was pervasive. There was no exit, no steam.
With all of the horses out, she dropped to the ground in a desperate attempt to grab any oxygen she could. By now, most of it had been consumed by the fire raging around her.
Megan dragged in another breath and started crawling, pulling herself through the bits of hay, ash, and sparks of fire raining down and swirling around the inferno.
