Page 86 of A Rugged Beauty
Hollis had to blink against the haze of light that wanted to remain in his eyes. "We'd better get back. We'll want to wait out the storm before we travel, especially if it floods?—"
He cut himself off, his eyes on the horizon.
Owen had been saying something to August, but now moved to stand at Hollis's side.
"You smell that?"
The wind seemed to carry a tinge of smoke.
Hollis's heart began to pound. An orange glow lit the horizon, spreading fast.
Heading their way.
"Wildfire," August breathed.
The three men didn't look at each other before they were scrambling down the incline and running for their horses, the animals prancing nervously. The stillness, the heavy air, wind blowing right in their direction. The smell of smoke had already intensified.
Several birds flew overhead, startling Hollis's horse as he stepped one foot into the stirrup. He clung to the saddle horn as the animal sidestepped, finally settling into the seat.
"Can we get into the river?" Owen shouted as they took off for camp.
“It’s too dangerous. If it floods, the wagons could be swept away.” The river was deep and curved near this section. But the danger of being on the plain was even more terrible. All it would take was one spark tumbling on the wind to catch a canvas on fire.
They couldn't outrun it. The wagons, the cattle, the people—the fire was too fast. Already he felt choked by the smoke.
Were they doomed to lose everything? Had he put Abigail and the rest of the company in danger, risked her life all over again?
He let the still small voice inside him confront the swirling fears.
God wasn't against him. He had his captains at his side. And Hollis was going to fight.
What could stop fire? Water. Dirt to smother it. Lack of fuel.
"We need to start a fire burning in a line toward the north," he shouted to Owen and August. "A break wide enough the wildfire can't jump it."
He detailed his plan in their last paces to reach the wagons. As they neared, all three men dismounted at a run.
Owen shouted for Leo as he ran off in one direction. August went the opposite way, gathering help. Fearful faces immediately confronted Hollis when he strode into the circle of wagons.
"The men are needed on the north side of camp," he ordered. "Every man, as long as you're strong enough to walk. Light a torch. Now!"
Thankfully, no one questioned him. They exuded only a determination to survive and faith in Hollis, who’d come back to help when the sickness had overtaken them.
He only hoped he deserved it.
He let his gaze roam the women around camp, those who'd gathered close.
There. Abigail watched with terrified eyes from near August's wagon.
"Find as many buckets, barrels, and pails as you can. Any of you who can walk or run, come and fill them at the river."
Fear pushed the travelers into motion, pails clanking.
He joined Abigail. "Are you all right?" he asked urgently.
Surprise lit her expression, quickly banked. "Yes."
She couldn't hide the shock when he took the washtub from her hands. "Grab those," he nodded to the two pails in the back of the wagon.
