Page 51 of Wild Heart

Olivia stepped forward. “Natalie, please…”

But Natalie shook her off. “Don’t. I need air. I need... space.”

She turned and walked out, her boots thudding against the hallway floor. Mason chased after her and Davey left through the back door. And Olivia, left behind, leaned against the wall, her eyes closing, her breath shaking. Her heart pounded like thunder in her chest, each beat louder than the last.

Natalie had just reached her room, hands still shaking from the confrontation with Olivia, when another flash lit up the entire hallway like daylight. An instant later, the thunder followed, louder than any before, rattling the windowpanes and setting her nerves alight. She froze. Then, through the small opening in her window, the unmistakable scent reached her, sharp, acrid. Smoke.

In the kitchen, Olivia straightened, her back stiff as she sniffed the air. She turned toward the window and saw it: a bloom of orange rising over the eastern ridgeline, flickering just above the tree line.

“Oh no,” she whispered as a shrill alarm cracked through the silence, followed by the pounding of feet on the wooden floors. Outside, the rain fell harder, the thunder booming now, closer, enraged. The wind howled through the gap in the window frame, whistling like a warning.

Mason reappeared, his quest for Natalie forgotten, flashlight in hand. His face was taut, lips pressed into a grim line. "We’ve got a fire in the east woods. Lightning must’ve struck one of the dead pines."

Natalie joined them, panting from the run from her cabin, her thoughts now focused on the storm outside, the one inside could wait. "How far?"

“Too close.”

Olivia took command, her voice clear despite the panic rushing through her chest. "Mason, notify the volunteer crew and get everyone to the safe zones. Natalie, get the small animal enclosures started on evacuation protocol. I'll alert emergency services."

Mason gave a nod and turned toward the lodge’s emergency panel.

Natalie moved, her adrenaline overriding the hurt in her chest. The argument could wait. The truth could wait. Right now, there were animals in danger. Minutes blurred. The sanctuary staff gathered in the main clearing, faces illuminated by the growing red glow on the horizon. Ash rained down like snow. The trees hissed with embers.

The smoke moved like a creature, slithering low through the brush, hungry and reaching.

“We’ve trained for this,” Mason barked, handing out radios and flashlights. “Stay in teams, check for stragglers. Prioritize the vulnerable pens first. Use the lower trail to move crates toward the south gate.”

The words were clipped, practiced, but beneath his calm command, worry gnawed loud.

Olivia coordinated from the command post with a map of the property pinned to the table. Her fingers trembled as she relayed positions to the fire department, her voice never cracking. "We’ve got thirty minutes before it hits the outer perimeter. That’s our window."

Natalie and Mason found themselves working side by side. They loaded injured birds into carriers, clipped tags to recovery cages, counted heads with practiced precision. Time seemed elastic, rushing forward and dragging back.

“I need that fox crate!” Natalie shouted over the crackle of the radio.

“Coming!” Mason hoisted it over the fence, their hands brushing for only a second.

Even then, through the smoke and chaos, the sting of everything unsaid hung between them. As the fire drew closer, the heat thickened the air. Trees groaned. A distant pop marked the fall of a scorched pine.

“Fence line’s catching!” someone yelled.

Olivia's voice came over the radio. "Pull back to the western compound. The fire team will try to hold the ridge."

Animals were moved into trailers and trucks. The sanctuary staff formed a chain to hand off food, crates, blankets. The air burned every breath. The earth itself seemed to moan.

And then came Davey. He emerged from the far side of the barn, his face streaked with ash, sweat glistening at his brow. His eyes were wild but focused, pupils sharp, body braced with a raw kind of clarity.

“What do you need?” he barked at no one in particular, grabbing a cage of recovering squirrels and heading toward the caravan of waiting vans.

Olivia spotted him from across the clearing and froze. It wasthe first time she’d seen him since their conversation—since she’d told him the truth.

“Davey!” she called.

He paused, cage in hand. Their eyes met. She took a step forward.

“I need to help,” he said, cutting her off. “We can talk after.”

Her throat bobbed with the words she couldn’t say. She nodded. He turned and ran.

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