Page 73 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
She pulled harder, unable to understand why it wasn’t opening. Usually, it slid smoothly along its tracks. She yanked again, but it didn’t budge, not even shifting a fraction of an inch.
Could it have swelled from the heat, making it stick? She kicked it, frustrated, and felt a dull pain in her booted foot, but the door stayed stubbornly shut. Dropping her hand, she forced herself to think again. As she fought with the door, Maya was breathing in more smoke, and it wasn’t getting them any closer to escaping the barn.
Turning, she moved to the other door on the opposite end of the aisle. Her head spun, and she knew that she shouldn’t be breathing so much smoke, but there was no way to crawl while carrying Maya—besides, that would be too slow. As it was, her shuffling steps felt nightmarishly difficult and snaillike, their escape slowed even more by having to open each stall to free the trapped horses.
She moved closer and closer to the blazing tack room, and the smoke thickened, creating an opaque wall between them and the door. Holding her breath, she plowed through the choking blackness, keeping her gaze focused forward, trying to ignore the flames flickering in her peripheral vision. Her mind kept wanting to take her back to that night in her workshop and to each subsequent nightmare—the ones where she never got out of the fiery room.
Stop it.She slammed a mental door on those thoughts. Her lungs were squeezing with a lack of air, and she was forced to drag in a bitter, painful inhale. Her breathing was wheezy now, threatening to send her into a coughing fit at any moment. She forced one foot to move and then the other, clinging to Maya desperately. She refused to think about the little girl breathing the same harmful smoky air.
When she reached the door, Camille was too light-headed and terrified to rejoice. Grimly, she yanked at the handle. This time, she wasn’t shocked when it didn’t move. She’d almost been expecting that, and she didn’t waste time with futile struggling. She and Maya didn’t have any time to lose.
Get Maya out. Get Maya out.The mantra repeated in her head as she tried to think, despite the fear and smoke clouding her brain. The doors were useless, so what was next? A window? All the windows were set so high up that they were essentially vertical skylights. Swallowing the terrified sob that wanted to escape, Camille mentally scanned the barn in her mind.
The Dutch door! In her panic, she’d forgotten it. Stumbling back toward the center of the barn, she saw that flames had climbed the wall and were spreading to the feed room. A small pile of a half-dozen hay bales stacked in the aisle next to Maybelle’s stall had caught fire, and Camille knew they didn’t have much time before the barn was completely alight.
She coughed, her lungs burning, and realized they didn’t have much time…period.
Reaching the door, she unlatched the top and bottom portions and pushed, half expecting it not to open, like the other two. When it swung open, bringing a wave of fresh, cold air, she gasped with relief. A horse shrieked with fear behind her, and she turned her head to see that they were bunched against the door she’d first tried to open, crowded in a terrified mass in the only place they knew to go—the door they went through every morning to get out to the pasture. Q was the only one not milling frantically in their huddle. Instead, he was trotting back and forth behind Camille, snorting in fear.
“What…What’s happening? Camille?” Maya’s hoarse voice, more coherent than before, almost brought Camille to her knees with relief. As she’d carried the girl through the flaming barn, a part of Camille had been dreadfully sure that Maya wasn’t going to make it. At the sound of her voice, cracked but coherent, a new, desperate plan formed.
“Maya?” Rushing outside, Camille crouched and carefully slid her off her shoulder, catching her when Maya started crumpling to the ground. “Are you with me?”
“What’s going on?” With Camille’s support, Maya caught her balance, although she swayed as she stared frantically into the barn.
“The barn’s on fire. I need to get the horses out.” She caught Maya’s face in her hands, holding her gaze. “You need to ride Q away from the barn. Go to the house and get help. Understand?”
“You want me to ride Q?” Maya started coughing, and Camille released her. When Q made his next pass down the aisle, she looped her arm under his neck, grabbing a hank of mane. The pony slid to a stop. After a couple of half-hearted attempts at trying to free himself from her hold, he stilled, and Camille led him through the door to where Maya was waiting.
“Get on,” she said, and Maya automatically moved to the pony’s side. Camille gave her a leg up, tossing her onto Q’s back. Maya gripped the pony’s mane, sliding off-center as he sidestepped nervously, still anxious about the burning barn so close behind them. Camille gave Maya’s leg a tug, centering her again. “Now ride carefully. Don’t go too fast. I don’t want you hurting yourself trying to get help.”
Maya’s face was starkly pale in the moonlight, her gaze terrified but finally clear. “You’ll get the other horses?”
“Yes.”
Maya nodded, and Q leapt forward into a fast canter. Camille’s heart squeezed as Maya was jostled sideways before she regained her balance. The wind whipped Camille’s hair around her as the pony and his rider disappeared into the night.Maya’s out.Camille’s knees went soft, but she forced them to stiffen, turning back to the barn. The black and red interior, so ominous and frightening, made her want to run to safety, but a horse’s shrill scream sent her rushing back into the inferno.
The horses were in full panic, bumping and shoving each other in a frantic rush to escape. They didn’t see the open Dutch door, too focused on the closed one at the end of the aisle. Camille stared at the churning mass as flames roared higher, creeping too quickly down the row of stalls toward the terrified horses.
She didn’t know what to do.
A flash of gray caught her eye through the smoky haze, and she saw Buttercup standing slightly apart from the others. Although her head was high and her tail clamped down in fear, she didn’t seem as panicked as the others, and the vague outline of a plan formed in Camille’s mind.
Grabbing a rope off one of the stalls, she hurried toward the mare, wanting to run but knowing that it would just spook Buttercup and the others even more.
“Hey, Buttercup,” she said, her voice rough and shaky. The mare snorted nervously as she approached but didn’t move away as Camille reached her side. “You need to be the boss mare for me now. Show the others what they need to do.”
Looping the rope around Buttercup’s neck right behind her ears, Camille moved toward the open door. The mare didn’t move at first, and Camille had a moment of fear that she wouldn’t cooperate. The horse was huge, taller than Camille at the shoulder, and she knew she couldn’t force Buttercup do anything she didn’t want to.
“Come on,” she begged, her eyes stinging from tears as much as the smoke, and tugged at the rope circling Buttercup’s neck. The mare stepped forward, one huge hoof after another, and Camille felt dizzy with relief. “Good girl.” Raising her voice, she called to the other horses. “Let’s go, guys!” She had no idea if it would help, but she just hoped they would see the big mare leaving through the Dutch door and figure out that was the way to escape.
A small shape darted out of the group toward Buttercup, and Camille recognized Maybelle. As soon as the goat glimpsed the open door, she shot ahead of them out into the night. Two more—Harry the draft horse and a pony she didn’t recognize—broke off from the milling herd to follow.
Camille started to think that her plan would work. As they reached the open doorway, she pulled the rope away from Buttercup’s neck and stepped back, afraid that both she and the horse wouldn’t fit through the opening. The big mare charged outside, followed by the other two—and then five more in quick succession.
Tears flowed freely down her face now as one horse after another escaped the burning barn. Wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand, she peered into the gloom. The smoke had thickened, and the barn was getting darker even as the flames grew, casting light that created demonic shadows.
Only one horse remained against the closed sliding door, pacing back and forth across the aisle, his head up and eyes wild, completely panicked now that he was alone. The flames reflected off his sweaty coat, turning the horse a devilish red. With the rolling smoke surrounding them and the roar of the fire, the cozy, comfortable barn had transformed into a frightening hellscape. Everything inside Camille wanted to run, to flee the inferno, but she couldn’t leave the panicked horse to die.
