Page 75 of Rocky Mountain Cowboy Christmas
The padlock on the door sent a fresh surge of fury through his veins, and he snipped the thick metal as if it were baling wire. Yanking the remains of the lock off the door and throwing them violently to the side, he reached for the handle and jerked the door open.
The flames roared at the influx of oxygen, and Steve was glad he was still wearing his bunker gear. He’d been so anxious to get home to Camille and the kids that he hadn’t wanted to delay by changing at the station. Without his SCBA gear, the heat and smoke felt alien, the air harsh and deadly as he pulled it into his lungs.
Pushing away all of his thoughts, all of the alarms screaming at him to wait for the other firefighters, the ones who’d have the gear for this, he stepped into the burning barn. The heat was overwhelming, and the smoke scratched at his throat, reminding him of his unprotected, vulnerable lungs. It didn’t matter. Camille wasn’t safe, either, and she’d been in there too long already.
He jogged down the aisle, trying to see through watering eyes and the thick smoke. The entire barn was ablaze, and a small part of him mourned for the building, one he’d been in thousands of times since his childhood. To his dawning surprise, he saw the stalls were empty. Buttercup, Freddy, Q, Maybelle…none of them were trapped and burning.
As he grew closer to the end of the aisle, his hope rose. Maybe Camille had gotten out when she’d freed the horses. Doubt tugged at him, though, making him move faster. If she’d gotten out, she would’ve been with the others. She never would’ve watched as he’d run into the barn without trying to stop him, especially when there wasn’t anyone left to save.
He reached the end of the aisle, but Camille wasn’t there. His stomach dropped as his frantic gaze darted around the barn, trying to peer through the thick smoke and darkness to see where she might be trapped. Where could she be? He’d checked all the stalls and the full length of the aisle. The feed room? The tack room? Had she gotten turned around and was passed out in a corner somewhere, hidden in the shadows?
Terror choked him worse than the smoke. Coughing, he crouched lower and rushed back toward the other side of the barn. He tried to cling to his usual calm logic, but it slipped out of his grasp, panic fighting its way into his thoughts as the fire grew wilder and Camille was still nowhere to be found.
A movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye. Turning, he squinted, peering through the haze of smoke and the disorienting shadows caused by the leaping flames. A figure was outlined by the darkness outside the gaping Dutch door, and Steve lunged in that direction. His heart squeezed with hope, even as his brain told him that the form was too big to be Camille.
The light from the fire bounced off the person’s jacket as he turned sideways and stepped through the opening. Steve recognized the reflective stripes as bunker gear, just as he noticed the firefighter was cradling a smaller figure against his chest. His heart leapt again, jolting almost painfully. Backup had arrived, and one of the firefighters was saving Camille.
“Camille!” he shouted, and the firefighter jerked his head around. The face shield and SCBA gear hid his features, so Steve couldn’t recognize him. As Steve rushed toward them, the firefighter ducked through the door out into the night. Stumbling over the remains of a fallen board, Steve caught his balance and surged toward the opening, overwhelming relief whipping through him. Camille was out of the barn. The firefighter, whoever he was, had gotten her out, and an EMT would be there to help her.
She’d been so still, though. He ruthlessly shoved the thought out of his head, refusing to consider how limply she’d lain in the firefighter’s arms. Coughing, he ran through the opening and looked around, blinking his watering, stinging eyes as he tried to see where the firefighter had carried Camille.
Something was wrong, though. There was no rescue truck, no flashing lights, no crew of firefighters swarming the area. Except for the roaring flames behind him, everything was quiet…too quiet.
Just as the realization that backuphadn’tarrived was starting to take root in his mind, he saw the firefighter from the barn. He was jogging toward the flaming trees, Camille still in his arms, his gait rough and uneven. Steve wasn’t sure if the firefighter had an injury or was thrown off-balance by the person cradled in his arms. All he knew was that he needed to get Camille to safety,now.
“Get back here!” Steve bellowed, but the wind and his ravaged lungs conspired against him, and his words were barely audible over the background noise. He started running after them, his brain fogged with fear for Camille. Why was the firefighter carrying her toward the burning evergreens? It didn’t make any sense.
Steve chased after them, but the unshoveled snow was too deep, slowing him down to a frustrating slog. His body protested every movement, wanting to stop and cough, but he pressed on. Despite his ragged breathing, he was gaining on the fleeing figure. As they got closer to the tree line, Steve sucked in a hard breath. The fire was spreading quickly, the wind sending sparks and flames from tree to tree before whipping the inferno into a fury. Snowflakes and embers bit at his face, the contrast between hot and cold strange and terrible.
The destruction hit him low in the gut, but he pushed it away. He needed to get to Camille. That was the priority right now.
The firefighter paused at the edge of the fiery trees, looking over his shoulder. For a split second, Steve thought that he’d stop and wait, that he’d end this chase that made no sense. Just as he started to hope, the firefighter ran into the trees.
“No!” Steve yelled, agony filling him as he watched the two dive into the rows of trees. He couldn’t lose Camille, not now that he’d just found her. He ran after them, heading straight toward the smoke-clogged forest. His agonized lungs and the deep snow slowed him down to a nightmarishly slow speed, but he plowed on. He had to save her.
Without hesitating, he plunged into the inferno after them.
* * *
Camille woke in yet another fire-ravaged nightmare.
The Christmas trees all around them were blackened skeletons dressed in flames, the evergreen scent she loved so much tainted and bitter from smoke. Hard arms held her against a chest covered in rough fabric. Looking up, she bit back a scream. It was the faceless man from her nightmare.
This time, though, he was all too real—and she wouldn’t let him take her.
Reaching up, she shoved at the shield covering his face. He let out a shout as his head snapped back, and she swung her elbow at his chest. His arms loosened, just slightly, and she threw herself forward, needing to get away from this nightmare come to life. She rolled out of his hold, falling weightlessly for the longest moment before she hit the ground hard.
He reached for her, looking so much like the menacing figure from her nightmares that she almost froze again.No!she shouted in her head, managing to roll away and scramble to her feet. Her legs didn’t work well, her muscles shaky and stiff, but panic gave her strength to run.
Stumbling and fuzzy-headed, she sprinted forward, trying to find a way through what looked like an impenetrable wall of flame. She ducked between the trees and ran, two blazing rows of trees hemming her in. Flames billowed out, tossed by the wind, and heat seared her skin. She skittered to the side, away from the fire, but there was nowhere to go. A second wall of flame blocked her on the other side. Just as in her nightmares, there were no doors, no escape. It was just her and the hungry fire and the dark figure chasing her down.
With a crack, a burning tree fell to the side, blocking her way. She stumbled to a stop, barely managing to halt before she tumbled right on top of the flaming evergreen. She whirled in a circle, searching for a hole, some opening clear of flame that she could squeeze through, but there was nothing but fire.
“Camille!” Steve’s voice made her freeze, and she sucked in a breath to respond. A hand gripped her arm, yanking her around, and her shout emerged as a hoarse shriek of fear.
The nightmare firefighter dragged her close, and terror seized her mind, making it impossible to think. She could only stare at the flames reflecting off his face shield, her own horrified reflection caught in the burning depths.
“Camille!” Steve’s shout jolted her out of her panicked paralysis, and she jerked back against the firefighter’s hold. This wasn’t one of her nightmares. This was just a person, and she could fight—shewouldfight. She’d just found contentment and love and family. She wasn’t about to give up her life easily.
