"Good."
Matthew looked uphill. "You need to go."
Rachel stared at him. "What?"
"The fire's closing. Take Lillian and go."
"No."
"Rachel—"
"No."
His jaw hardened. "Don't make this about me."
"I'm not."
She looked at the horse, then at the slope. "On three, Lillian, pull his head toward the ditch. Matthew, you push when I say."
Lillian nodded. Matthew started to argue. Rachel looked straight at him.
"Trust me."
He stopped. One breath. Then another. "All right."
Rachel braced against the horse's shoulder. "One."
The wind roared.
"Two."
Lillian tightened the reins.
"Three."
The horse lunged upward. Matthew dragged his leg free. Rachel stumbled backward into the ditch bank. Matthew rolled clear.
The horse found its feet and bolted. For a second, all three of them simply breathed. Then George's voice came through the smoke.
"Lillian!"
Rachel turned. He was farther uphill than he should have been. Much farther.
"Pa!"
George was trying to open the gate to the upper pasture. Fire had reached the fence behind him. Rachel's anger came so fast it almost steadied her.
"I told him to stay."
Matthew got to his feet. He limped. Rachel saw it.
"Can you walk?"
"Yes."
"Don't lie."
"I can walk."
Lillian pointed. "Pa!"
George swung the gate open. A frightened gelding burst through and nearly knocked him down. Then the smoke swallowed him.
Rachel ran. Matthew caught up despite the limp. The three of them reached the fence just as George appeared again on his knees.
He was coughing hard. Rachel grabbed one arm. Matthew took the other.
George tried to pull away. "The horses."
"Leave them!" Rachel shouted.
"My stock."
"Leave them!"
He stopped fighting. Maybe it was her voice. Maybe he finally understood. They dragged him downhill.