Page 97 of Knox

The wind that gusted into the barn from the open doors fueled the flames, and they licked into the sky.

Reuben grabbed a pitchfork and headed up to the loft.

“What are you doing?”

“Throwing the burning hay out—we need water up here!” he yelled to no one in particular, but probably Knox.

But Knox had opened Gordo’s pen, walking through it to the other side. The animal shoved at him, panicked, but he pushed him away, opening the doors. “Get out!”

“Knox!”

The animal bolted into the yard, and Knox closed the pen and ran down to the end.

“I have to get Daisy and her bull!” Oh, why hadn’t he put them out to pasture already? He’d meant to, but he liked having the bull in the barn where he could keep an eye on his growth.

Now, smoke turned his eyes gritty, and he grabbed a railing, doubling over, coughing.

“Put something over your face!” Reuben yelled, also coughing. He was pitching hay out the window, even as water dripped down the side of the barn from Tate’s—and now probably Wyatt’s—hoses.

Knox covered his mouth with his arm and groped his way to Daisy. She was in a panic, slamming against the gate, and he opened it, flung it back.

She lunged out, and he went after the bull. It lay on the hay, its eyes wide. Knox jerked it up. “C’mon, little guy.” And in a second, the bull found its legs.

Tufts of hay dropped from the mow overhead and flamed in the middle of the barn, crackling, sizzling. Knox barely dodged it, pushing the bull out of the way as they escaped the building.

He grabbed the hose curled by the door, turned the water on full, and doused the mound of hay.

“Up here! We need some water. The fire’s getting into the rafters and if it reaches the ridge pole, it’s all over!”

Knox coiled the hose and tossed it up to Reuben, who caught the unraveling snake with one hand. He got a good view of his brother in that moment, backdropped against the smoke and flames, wide-shouldered, fearless, almost more alive in the middle of the flames than Knox had ever seen him.

Was he sure he wanted to give up his life on the edge of wildfire for…well, they might not have anything left after tonight.

He climbed up the ladder, took the hose from Reuben, and kept spraying the rafters as Reuben grabbed up the pitchfork again and tumbled the rest of the smoldering hay out the window, separating it from the unburned green mounds. The smoke clogged the mow, and with the steam, Knox could barely see Reuben, who kept shouting at him, pointing at glowing cinders and new burns.

The sound of bleating rose, churned panic through him, but he could do nothing for the family of baby goats.

His mother’s shouts rose, mixed with a male voice he didn’t recognize.

Oh, Hardwin, helping to rescue his mother’s pets.

The flames finally sizzled out, steam pouring through the barn, through the windows, water dripping from the hay mow, a summer’s work ruined. Sweat ran down Reuben’s face, but he grabbed the hose and ran water into the rafters, a final sousing.

They stood, breathing hard, meeting each other’s eyes, the water dripping out of the hose.

“How did this happen?” Reuben said.

“I don’t know.” Knox climbed down the ladder, stood in the shadows of the barn. He bent over, gripping his knees.

Reuben followed him down and laid a hand on his back. “You okay?”

“We could have lost Gordo. And the baby bull out of Hot Pete…” He blew out. “If you’re going to take over the ranch, you should probably know that we’re just on the line here. When Dad died, he left a double mortgage on the house. We had a number of cows who were bred out, and our only bull couldn’t keep up. Dad’s insurance went into the herd, and I took the rest and bought Gordo. And we’ve slowly climbed out of the red. But…” He stood up. Water saturated his arms, his shirt. “I had a lot riding on Hot Pete. His purses, his future straws. He paid off our first mortgage over the past two years. But we need the insurance on him to keep the ranch afloat, acquire another breed cow.” He sighed. “Not rebuild a barn.”

“The barn is insured, I hope.”

Knox nodded. But he let out another long breath.

“You’re overwhelmed.”