Cowboy's Special Woman

“I can drive.”

“Give me the keys. You can catch your breath.”

As she handed over the keys, they walked to the pickup. He drove through a wall of smoke again until they were beyond it.

“Our house,” she said softly as they approached her home. “My grandfather built this house.”

“Was that your husband you were talking to?”

“No.” Her head swung around and she looked at him for a moment as if she had to think back to remember. “He’s my father. My husband and I are divorced.”

“Sorry.”

“I came back home last year to live with my dad when my mother died.”

“I don’t know your name.”

“Maggie Langford.”

“I met your dad when he brought me some water. He’s Ben Alden,” he said and she nodded. Jake pulled to a stop by the back door and climbed out. She was already out and sprinting for the back door.

“Anything in particular I can get for you?”

“Yes. If we can save it, there’s some furniture that has been handed down through the generations.”

When he followed her inside, all her dazed manner vanished as she began to briskly issue orders.

As he secured the last bit of a second load of scrapbooks, clothing and furniture, Jake glanced over his shoulder and his stomach knotted at the proximity of the blaze. The house, barn and all outbuildings seemed doomed. He heard an engine and when he looked around, the three pumper trucks came down the lane, and her father drove a tractor along the side of the road. Firemen spilled from the trucks and ran to the house with fire retardant blankets to toss over the furniture. In minutes Ben Alden plowed a broad swath on the south side of the house, and then he crossed the road to plow west of the barn and around the other structures.

“You get this pickup out of harm’s way. I’ll stay and help here,” Jake said.

“I want to get some saddles from the barn,” she answered. “Thank heaven the horses are out of there!” Jake jogged beside her as she trotted to the barn. When she stopped inside, her brow furrowed. “Dad’s stuff…” As her voice trailed away, she looked stricken.

“What do you want out of the barn?” Jake said briskly, knowing they were running out of time. Crackling and roaring, the fire was much closer. The wind was as high as ever and sparks constantly were caught in gusts, flying away to start new blazes.

“Everything,” she said quietly. She gave a small shake of her shoulders. “Those saddles,” she said, pointing, and Jake ran to get what she asked for. He carried out three saddles and put them in the pickup.

In minutes the blaze approached the barn.

“Get the pickup out of here,” Jake shouted to her. “If you don’t, you’ll lose everything and the pickup, too.”

She climbed in and was gone as more men came into view. Jake heard a shout and saw a fireman pointing. He turned and saw the first lick of flame curling on the barn roof. Jake swore, grabbing up a shovel.

Creating a barrier, the drive cut through between the house to the east and the barn, the garage, the bunkhouse and the sheds to the west, so firemen moved to widen the swath of wet, plowed ground between the barn and the house to try to save the house. Maggie’s father plowed furrows, riding in widening strips while everyone battled the blaze.

When Jake spotted Maggie back with the firefighters, he worked his way toward her. “You could still get another carload of your belongings out of the house if you want. I’ll help.”

She shook her head. “No, we’ll try to save the house. I’d rather—”

“Maggie, did you get the trunks out of the barn?” her father called, driving the tractor up beside them. Jake glanced at the barn and saw the whole building was burning now.

“No, I got the saddles.”

“I’m getting them,” her father said, sprinting toward the barn.

“Dad!” Maggie started after him, but Jake grabbed her arm.

“I’ll go,” he said and raced after her father who had already disappeared inside the barn.

Jake yanked down his bandanna and tied it over his nose. As he ran inside he put an arm up to shield his face, trying to hold his breath and not inhale the thick smoke. All around him, fire roared and he couldn’t see through the smoke.

Then a figure loomed up before him. “Take this,” Maggie’s father shouted and thrust a small trunk at Jake.

“Sir, this building is going to go!”

“Get out!”

Sprinting outside, Jake set down the trunk and ran back toward the burning barn. He spotted a dark silhouette of a man only a few yards inside, but before he reached the open door, he heard a crack like a shotgun blast. A large beam fell.

The beam struck Ben Alden, knocking him down only a few feet from the door.

Two

Running toward the burning barn, Maggie screamed.

“I’ll get him,” Jake shouted. “You stay out.”

Crouching to avoid smoke as much as possible, Jake raced inside. He groped his way until he spotted the figure lying in front of him, a burning beam across his legs. Without hesitation Jake grabbed the beam and shoved it away. He hoisted Maggie’s father over his shoulder, moving blindly and praying he was headed toward the door and not deeper into the barn.

As he burst through smoke and into fresh air, he staggered and lowered her father carefully to the ground. While Jake yanked away the bandanna and gulped fresh air, Maggie knelt beside her dad.

“This man needs help,” Jake yelled to one of the firefighters who ran toward them.

“Dad! I’ve called an ambulance.”

“Are you all right?” a fireman asked Jake.

“Yeah,” he nodded, coughing and still trying to get fresh air into his lungs. He moved back to allow two firemen to help her father.

Maggie thrust a bucket of water into Jake’s hands and he poured it over himself, cold water drenching him, a momentary relief from the smoke and heat. “Thank you,” she said, earnest blue eyes gazing at him. Her face was smudged with soot and her blond hair had come loose from the braid so that long strands fell freely around her face.

“Sure,” he said and then she was gone, back kneeling beside her father while the firemen hovered over him.

With a rumble and a crack, the entire roof of the barn fell, sending flames and sparks shooting high overhead. Firefighters yelled as they worked frantically to keep the flames away from the house. Jake walked to a truck and poured a cup of water, gulping it, aware of hurting and stinging in a dozen different places. His hands felt like raw meat. Wind swirled against him and he lifted his head, realizing that it had shifted slightly.

When he went back to join the firefighters, he heard men talking about the wind, but conversation wasn’t needed to tell him the wind was shifting. So far the flames had not crossed the road or flown over the swath of plowed dirt.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw an ambulance with flashing lights. Jake guessed they were getting Maggie’s father into the ambulance. He hoped Ben Alden recovered.