Page 93 of Second Start: Family
He went over the fence, hollering to Kenzie that he’d found them as he went. He crossed the corral at a run and went over the far fence, now able to see that there was water in the old trough.
Molly stood, water streaming from her, but she didn’t climb out. Lizzie and Bobby remained sitting in the water, which came about to Bobby’s chin.
“What on earth are you — no, it doesn’t matter. Just get out and—”
“We can’t get out,” Molly said.
“Actually, we can but we don’t want to,” Lizzie said.
“I don’t care if you want to or not.” They’d run a hose from the pipe to the trough. Smart, but that water had to be cold as hell. “Get out. Now. And where’s Dan?”
“He’s stopping the fire. He came back and said he was going to drive us to town. I told him and told him he’s not supposed to do that. He said this time it was okay.” Worry bunched her eyebrows and creased around her eyes, but her blue lips had to come from the water.
“Okay, now get out of the water.”
But Molly was in full explaining mode. “He tried to start the truck in the barn, but it wouldn’t start. He told us to put water in the trough and get in and stay here and not get out until he came back and told us the fire was all out. And if the fire comes we’re supposed to duck down and hold our breath under water. Benji and Crafty, too. Even if we have to hold their heads under.”
Hall noticed for the first time the unhappy faces of the dogs, peering up from either side of Lizzie.
It wasn’t a bad plan. And the troughs were a good spot, with the only wood around them the fence posts.
“But first he let all the horses out,” Lizzie said. “Except Buster. He rode him back toward the fire. Dan took bunches and bunches of rugs and a shovel. Only after a while, Buster came running back over the hill—” She pointed to the ridgeline behind the house. “—then he went that way—” She pointed away from the fire. “—same way the other horses went.”
Dan was afoot. Voluntarily or—? No time to speculate.
“Get out now. Dan did good telling you to stay here, but—”
“That’s not why we can’t get out,” Lizzie said. “If we get out, it’ll be colder when we get back in.”
“You’re not getting back in.”
Kenzie sprinted around the far corner of the new corral. “Oh, thank God— but where’s Dan?”
He didn’t answer. He lifted Bobby, water sluicing off him and his still-crossed legs and put him in Kenzie’s arms. “Get to the truck.” She staggered a bit, but immediately headed back the way she’d come toward the truck.
He grabbed Lizzie, setting her on her feet before hoisting her over one shoulder. As soon as she was balanced, he plucked Molly out of the water and settled her across the other shoulder.
Lizzie’s protest came from behind his back. “But, Daddy, what about Crafty and Benji?”
“They’ll just have to follow.”
“Here, Benji. Here, Crafty,” she called from over his back.
As if the dogs had needed that encouragement. As soon as she’d let go of them, they’d popped out of the water and after taking only enough time to shake out their coats, they rushed past Hall to catch up with Kenzie.
He and the dogs passed her, reaching the truck first. He deposited the streaming girls onto the seat, ordered both dogs in, then turned to take Bobby from Kenzie.
“Get them out of here. If the fire’s across the road, backtrack and go north at the V by the big rock. That follows the river. Get in the middle of the water if you have to.”
“But what about you—? Dan?”
She’d answered her first question with her second one.
“You kids do what Kenzie tells you, understand?”
There were nods among the chattering teeth. “But Daddy—?”
“I’ll find you as soon as I can. I love you.” He looked at each face. Allowing himself a second, only a second. Ending with Kenzie. “I love you all.”
