"Jesus! The barn's on fire!" He ran past her and through the door, yelling for Doc and Owen. Damn Arnie Smith and Tom Carver. Damn them to hell. If any of the boys were hurt –
He pushed that thought away as he ran toward the burning structure, the air filled with the sound of the frightened horses, the smell of smoke pungent. Sam was just inside the barn door, waking the others, as Brandon rushed in. "Get the boys up to the house," he shouted above the roar of the flames. "Count heads. Be sure they're all safe."
"I will. The horses—"
"I'll get them." He turned for the stalls, leaving Sam who had been joined by Ben, to awaken the others.
The horses were stamping furiously in their stalls, neighing in a plea for release as the smell of smoke became stronger.
Brandon threw open the door to the stall where his black was already frantically butting his head against the wood. "Easy, boy, easy." He laid his hand on the horse's neck and guided him toward the open door, keeping between the animal and the boys who were scurrying toward the safety of the house under Ben's guidance.
Brandon caught a glimpse of Allie running toward him, Owen behind her. Turning, he went back for Ol' Rooster, speaking in low tones as he slipped the catch on the stall door and guided the horse toward the barn entry.
"Let me help," Allie said quickly as he freed Reya and Stoney, Allie's two horses. He nodded, turning back toward the two sorry looking animals that had pulled the orphans' wagon all those many miles.
As he led the horses hurriedly to the door, he could see that Sam and Doc had organized a bucket brigade, and the boys were valiantly trying to fight the fire. They were losing ground. The barn was going up quickly, the flames burning higher and faster than the boys could control them.
Brandon stopped Ben. "Are they all accounted for?"
"Yes, sir. Now, we're just trying to keep ahead of the fire."
Brandon shook his head. "Let it go. There's no saving it now."
"But—" Ben turned as something crashed inside the barn, then the side where the flames had been set slowly began to fold inward.
Sam flinched at the sound, then slowly put down his bucket. He trudged toward where Ben and Brandon stood. "I'm sorry. We weren't quick enough with the water. It already had a good start on us."
Brandon nodded. "I know. You tried. It doesn't matter, Sam. You're all safe, and the horses are all right."
Doc walked up and placed a fatherly hand on Brandon's arm. "Not wasting any time, are they?" He shook his head, surveying the burning structure. "I think Tom's more of a threat than Arnie at this point, Brandon," he murmured thoughtfully. "Arnie's too badly injured to have…participated."
Brandon didn't respond for a moment. The flames crackled and rolled, sending a plume of sparks into the dark night sky. There had been no loss of life…this time. But he'd be damned if he sat around and waited for it to happen again.
Sam spoke up. "Jay told us what happened, Mr. Gabriel. He told us…everything. This is a good place, and we want to do…whatever we can to help."
Brandon met his eyes, and for that instant, he felt as if he were looking into a much-younger mirror of himself. Sam was asking to belong; volunteering to help make it his place too. "Thanks, Sam," he said gruffly, looking back at the burning barn. He lightened his tone. "Guess we'll add barn building onto our chore list."
"And killing some vermin," Sam said, low.
Brandon gave him a long look. "You let me do the killin', Sam. That's a road it's hard to turn back from once you start down it."
Sam's expression was wise beyond his years, Brandon thought; his words disquieting when he spoke. "Yes, sir. I reckon I know that, too."
Chapter 19
Allie stood apart, upwind from the still-burning remains of the barn. It hadn't taken all that long, she thought, for everything to go up in flames. Not everything, she chided herself. She couldn't have borne it if one of the boys had been injured… or killed. They'd been so lucky this time. They'd lost some of the tools, but had even managed to save most of those. The saddles and tack had been spared due to Owen going back in for them. Ben and Sam had saved the buckets, which had done precious little to keep the fire at bay in the end.
The structure itself had been the main loss, and it could be rebuilt. But watching Brandon, she could almost feel the oppressive weight bearing down on him.
So much, she'd thrust on him. She'd had the luxury of planning, of knowing what her ideas and thoughts would lead to. Brandon had found out haphazardly, and she was suddenly sorry for the way she'd brought him back into her life, in the middle of her plans. It was more than a little unfair.
She walked toward where he half-knelt, alone, and sank to her knees beside him. He didn't acknowledge her, his gaze on the burning remains of the building. She imagined that his thoughts had gone the same direction hers had. She laid a hand on his arm, the muscles tense beneath her fingertips. His jaw flexed, and still he didn't look her way.