Page 119 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

I rush back inside and scan the pens, but there’s too much smoke to see more than the frantic movement from the animals trying to free themselves.

“Davey!”

Smoke fills my lungs, and I sputter a cough, dipping my head low to try to keep it closer to the ground where the air seems less tainted.

The fire continues to spread, the roar of the flames consuming the old wood so loud, coupled with the panicked noises from the animals, that there’s no way he would hear me even if I could keep screaming.

He has to be in here.

If he were anywhere else, he would have come running to Camille, Pops, or me by now after smelling the smoke and seeing the fire.

Which means, he’s either too scared to move or trapped in the barn somewhere.

I start unlatching every pen door to release the animals, letting them race out into the livestock yard so I can check each enclosure to ensure he’s not hiding in it.

The heat from the growing blaze makes sweat flow down my temples, chest, and back, and each breath comes with more of a struggle. By the time I make it to the final pen and release Apollo, I can barely breathe, my chest so tight and the smoke so thick that it makes it impossible to draw it into my lungs without coughing violently.

Covering my face again, I stumble over a bucket one of the animals sent flying, moving to the corner of the barn farthest from the fire, and the only other possible place he could be if he’s in here.

The tack room.

I race toward it and yank the door open. “Davey!”

A tiny sob reaches me over the roar of the flames at my back, and a relieved breath that quickly becomes a violent cough falls from my lips as I stagger inside.

“Davey, where are you, buddy?”

“Dalton?”

His tiny voice carries on a little hiccupped sob from somewhere beneath me.

I squat and duck my head under the table where he’s curled up in the corner with his knees tucked against his chest, tears streaming down his face.

“Come on, bud.”

The longer we’re in here, the harder it’s going to be to get back out. Any clear path to the doors will have been almost entirely engulfed by now, and with the heavy, acrid smoke billowing in the small room, I can feel it growing closer.

I reach under the table and try to pull him out, but he resists me, trying to knock away my hand.

“Davey, we have to go.”

He shakes his head, lips trembling and coughs, his little body rattling. “I’m going to be in trouble.”

“What?” I cough, covering my face with my elbow. “You’re not in any trouble.”

“I’m not supposed to be out here alone.”

“You’re not—but I promise you’re not in trouble. Come on.”

I manage to get both hands under his arms and drag him out from under the table, but when I turn back toward the main barn, a wall of flames blocks the door.

The intense heat immediately makes me twist away, and Davey cries, burying his face against my neck and clinging to me.

Stepping forward, I kick the door closed.

It won’t do much to hold off the fire, but we aren’t going to be able to go through that. It may just give me a few precious minutes to figure out a way out of his mess.

I scan the tack room for any means of escape.

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