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My throat tightened with fear.
I gripped the reins, urging the horse into a swift gallop. The stallion’s muscles tensed under me, its hooves slipping on the wet ground. I leaned forward, whispering words of encouragement.
We had to keep going; Anna needed our help. The thought that she was alone, scared, and hurt drove me forward. I pushed against the wind, my mind focused solely on getting to her.
As we approached Harrington Ranch, the familiar sight was obscured by sheets of rain, I dismounted, the mud soaking into my boots as I landed. I ran to the gate and pushed it, but it was locked.
My heart sank. Time was running out, and every second seemed to drag on.
I clambered over the gate with clumsy movements and landed heavily on the other side. The rain continued to pelt down, soaking me to the bone. I unlocked the gate from the inside, remounted my horse, and galloped towards the ranch house.
Every second counted now.
The moment I got to the house, I pounded on the door.
Beth swung the door open, shining a flashlight in my face. The second she saw me, she looked from left to right. Her eyes filled with surprise.
“Max, where is Anna? I thought she was with you.”
“Anna is hurt. She is in the shed here,” I said, my voice strained. “I need a flashlight, first aid supplies quickly, and something we can use as a makeshift stretcher.”
Her eyes widened in shock. She handed the flashlight to me.
“I’ll call Ethan and Jake right away,” she said, her face pale.
She rushed into the house.
I couldn’t wait for her to return because every moment was critical. I turned and ran to my horse, leaping onto its back and galloping to the shed.
The storm raged towards me. The wind howled like a wild beast and the rain was unrelenting. The path to the shed was now littered with branches and debris, making the ride treacherous.
But I focused on reaching Anna in time. I urged my horse on, my heart pounding.
The debris littering the ground increased as we approached. I moved closer to the shed, then shone my flashlight at it. The building was barely recognizable. Its structure was twisted and broken. Part of the roof had caved in, and the walls were buckling under the strain.
A cold knot of fear formed in my stomach for Anna.
I jumped down from the horse and ran to the door. When I finally forced it open, I noticed the debris barricading it. Desperation took over. I scaled the partially intact section of the shed, maneuvering myself onto the roof. The structure groaned under my weight.
I lowered myself through the jagged hole in the roof, my boots landing on the unstable floor with a thud.
“Anna,” I called, looking around.
The interior was a mangled mess of broken wood and scattered belongings. Panic clawed at me. But I forced it down to focus on finding Anna.
Then faintly, I heard it – the sound of singing. Anna’s weak voice drifted to me from under a table.
I rushed over, breathing heavily.
She was lying down there, her face pale and drawn.
My first aid training kicked in. I quickly knelt beside her and assessed her condition. The tourniquet around her leg was a crude but effective measure. I checked the wound to make sure the tourniquet was tight enough to stem the blood flow but not so tight as to cause further damage.
“Anna, it’s Max. You’re going to be okay,” I said.
She was shivering, shock setting into her body. My coat was wet, so I couldn’t help her with it. I wrapped the blanket tightly around her body, layering the part close to her chest to provide extra warmth.
“Max,” she whispered.
