Page 20 of Smokin' Situation

The line went silent, and I waited, hoping I wasn’t about to get fired via radio transmission for not following the explicit orders he’d given me the last time I saw him.

“Alright, cowboy. You wanna prove yourself? Find me that motorist and get them back on the east side of the ridge. Dispatch will send you a pin of their location.”

Marty patted a gloved hand against my shoulder, nodding as I gripped the radio tighter in my hand, waiting for further instructions.

It appeared our plans would have to wait; a rescue mission was about to throw my entire day into disarray.

“Twenty-seven waiting for instructions, ready when you are dispatch.”

Thewoodswereeerilyquiet, the usual sounds of birds chirping replaced by the howling winds and an ominous haze rolling in that almost looked like fog.

Marty had shoved all the water he’d had stashed in his saddlebag, a bandana, and an extra horse blanket at me before he’d led me to the trail through the woods that’d get me closest to the GPScoordinates of the truck. Its last reported location was three miles north of the pasture we’d been in when I intercepted the radio call.

My breath echoed in my ears, the wet bandana tied across my face obnoxious, but necessary as the smoke blowing through the trees became denser the closer I got to the blue dot on my phone screen. Thank fucking God for modern technology. When I’d gone on my first search and rescue, GPS pins hadn’t been a thing, and you were left to scan sizeable portions of wooded areas like this with just a fanned-out crew and a handful of prayers.

Phi was moving at a pretty good clip, and I knew while I had my face covered, she didn’t, so I needed to find this person and get the hell out of here. But I didn’t want to push her into a trot because the ground was uneven and the last thing I needed out here was a horse with a broken leg.

Scanning the trees, I looked for the signs of flashing lights, knowing turning on the hazards would be the first thing the dispatcher told them to do if the vehicle was still running. Which I hoped it was. Because blue dot or not, the quicker I got out of here, the better.

Phi kept moving forward, huffing as we got closer, and the smell of burning wood that had permeated my gear for years catching my nose through the bandana. Despite the winds, it was hot as fuck, since I was covered from head to toe with my hat securely on my head. I knew I had to be getting close to the fire line with the size of the ash floating in the air.

“Fuck,” I exhaled, seeing the little dot blink on the screen, the corner of my phone showing that cell service was no longer available in this area. I pulled back on the reins, halting Phi for a moment as I thought about what I should do next.

Knowing I had little room for error, I tilted my hat backward and scanned the tree line, hoping for a sign I was in the right area. The traffic on the radio clipped at my side had been steady, but dispatch hadn’t called me off, so I was the best hope this person hadto get out of here.

“God dammit, where are you?” Phi shifted, walking off the path into a grove of trees and I held on to the end of her leads tight but gave her her head, hoping she’d sensed something I couldn’t see and would lead us there.

As she broke through the dense brush, I exhaled, seeing a familiar gray truck tilted at an odd angle on the broken asphalt, my pulse picking up when I recognized the numbers and letter combination on the Colorado tags.

What the fuck was she doing out here?

My calm cracked, and I urged Phi to walk toward the truck faster. Slowing her down once we were right beside the tailgate, I slid sideways off the saddle, keeping her leads gripped tightly in my hand, so she stayed right with me.

She was typically an even keeled horse, but now that I’d dismounted, I didn’t want to risk anything startling her. Even the most docile horses could panic in a moment of danger.

“Where is she?” I whispered, scanning the driver’s side window, using my glove to wipe off the fine layer of ash that’d accumulated since she’d been stuck out here.

The front of the truck was empty, and my stomach sank, but there was no way she would’ve ignored the dispatcher instructing her to stay in the vehicle. I cleared the back window, peering inside and exhaling in relief when I saw a blanket with a Rhey sized lump curled up underneath it in the footwell.

Banging on the window, I almost laughed as she peeked out, her eyes widening when she saw me. She threw the blanket off her shoulders and moved to open the door, but I shook my head, holding my hand up.

Tying the reins on the handle of the driver’s door, I reached over to pull out a bottle of water and the extra bandana from my saddlebag. When I returned to the door, I motioned for her to slide to the opposite side. Once she was in place, I yanked open the door and slid inside, slamming the door behind me to minimize the smoke I let into the cab.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed as she stared at me wearily.

Fighting the sudden urge to either shake her or kiss her, I went into emergency response mode, taking the cap off the water and dumping half of it over the bandana, using the last of the bottle to re-wet the one tied around my face.

“I’m gonna tie this around your head.”

My voice was muffled, but Rhey didn’t seem scared by the large, masked man wearing a cowboy hat raising a bandana toward her face. She held her hair back so I could quickly knot the material behind her head.

“Pull the blanket over your hair and wrap it around your shoulders. I’ll get the horse untied and lift you onto her back first.”

She nodded, shoving her phone into the back pocket of her shorts.

“I’m gonna close the door, but I’ll be right back. I promise. Turn the truck off and get anything else you need.”

Quickly slipping out of the door, I closed it behind myself and untethered Phi.

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