Page 57 of Branded By the Cowboy

The main barn door is jammed. The metal is warped from heat. I try the side door. It’s locked—melted shut.

I throw my shoulder into it—once, twice?—

Tom grabs my arm. “You can’t?—”

“She’s in there!”

That’s all I need to say.

He lets go.

I rip off my coat, press it to my mouth, and kick the door with everything I’ve got. The third time, it bursts inward. Fire explodes out like a dragon’s exhale.

I dive into hell.

Smoke claws at my lungs. Heat melts the edges of my vision. My skin prickles and singes. I drop low, belly to the dirt, crawling, teeth clenched, heart pounding like a war drum.

Get her. Get her. Get her.

My eyes water. I can’t see shit. Everything sounds wrong—roaring and cracking and the high whine in my ears that could be tinnitus or terror.

“LUNA!”

I scream again, voice raw and useless.

I hear a hoarse shout coming from the feed shed adjoining the barn. “In here!”

I dive toward it, searching, searching…

Then—

A shape.

Small. Huddled. Tucked behind the tool bench.

I scramble forward. My knees hit the floor hard.

She’s curled around something.

A goat.

Fucking Cheese Puff.

Luna’s hair is singed. Her sleeves scorched. Her eyes flutter open when I reach her, and that’s when I break—split wide open inside.

“You came,” she breathes.

“I’ll always come for you.”

I scoop her and the goat into my arms and stagger to my feet. Her hands fist in my shirt. She coughs hard—dry and raspy.

“Hold on, baby,” I murmur, voice cracking. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

I move fast. Blind.

The rafters catch. Fire races like it’s chasing us.

The side door is a tunnel of light. Smoke swirls in fury around it. We burst through it just as the roof caves in—heat lashing my back like a blowtorch.

---