Vance Creed stepped out behind them with a pistol in his hand and the calm of a man who had expected this exact moment. "I want them alive if we can manage it," he said. "But don't let them light that fire," Rhett raised his voice. "Get away from that fence. All three shadows froze.
For one second, no one moved. Then a match flared in the darkness. Clay fired into the dirt. The shotgun blast split the night. The match dropped, but it landed in grass already soaked with fuel.
Fire raced across the ground like a yellow snake. "Water! Nia shouted. Gus Turn and Cole Nicks ran for their horses. Jeb Slade sprinted toward the stable, maybe looking for another escape route.
Maybe trying to spread the fire farther. Dusty went after him. Rhett and Clay beat at the flames with wet blankets while Vance fired over the fleeing men, forcing them away from the pipeline. Nia ran toward the corral. The cattle had packed themselves against the fence.
Fire light burned in their eyes. Luke was already gone for help, and smoke had begun to crawl across the stable roof. Nia threw open the first gate. Come on, move. The animals refused.
Fear drove them backward instead of towards the opening. A spark landed on the stable roof. The dry wood caught with a roar. "Nia! Rhett shouted from the fence.
She ran inside. Smoke slammed into her throat. A mare kicked wildly against the manger. Nia reached the animal, cut the rope free, covered its eyes with a blanket, and guided it toward the door. Then she went back for two calves trapped behind a fallen beam.
When she came out the second time, Rhett grabbed her arm. The roof's coming down. There's one left. Don't go back in. From somewhere inside came the sharp cry of a calf.
Nia pulled free. I'm not leaving it. She went back before Rhett could stop her. The heat inside was unbearable. A burning beam crashed down behind her.
Nia found calf trapped beside a post. A rope twisted tightly around its legs. She cut through the rope with her knife. The calf could not stand. Nia wrapped both arms beneath its body and pulled.
It was too heavy. But Taza had taught her long ago that strength did not always come from muscle. Sometimes it came from refusing to let go. She dragged the calf through smoke, ash, and groaning timber. The moment she crossed the doorway, part of the roof collapsed behind her.