“Lance is back—Tory, watch yourself!” Olivia called.
She looked up just in time to leap out of the way of the tractor. Lance had it going as fast as it could and plowed a second line of dirt right next to the first.
“It’s bad by the outbuildings,” he called out. “They’re all going to go.”
Then he was past her, heading for the creek again, where he raised the harrow, spun the tractor, set the harrow down again and drove back past them.
At least the sparks had farther to travel now before they could find something to burn, but as she watched, the wind gusted hard, lifting rafts of sparks from the blaze, sailing them right over the wide-plowed strip.
“Damn it!” Olivia yelled. They raced to stamp out the new fires. It was like a hellish game of a whack-a-mole, Tory thought as a burning clump of vegetation flew past her on the wind, searing her cheek before she knocked it away.
She bent to the task of shoveling dirt on the wayward blazes, racing around to catch them all. It seemed like hours before Lance was back again. “Had to do more passes by the outbuildings,” he yelled in explanation. “There’s no one to stamp out the sparks there, and they keep starting new fires.” He looked over his shoulder, swore, raised the harrow and spun the tractor around as fast as he could, then raced back the way he’d come.
Tory saw why. Near the outbuildings, the fire had jumped the line and was blazing across the bone-dry pasture.
“Olivia!” she screamed and pointed.
Her sister raced by, shovel swinging. “Come on.”
She ran after her. Fire was spreading in all directions on this side of the line. Lance had swung the tractor wide, trying to cut a new swath of land to contain it, but everywhere Tory looked, little fires burned.
“Hurry!” Olivia shouted, stamping out sparks wherever she found them.
Tory bent to the task, too, back aching, her face streaming with sweat—or were those tears?
They weren’t going to be able to stop the fire. There were too few of them. Too many sparks—and a wind that wouldn’t quit.
All the years she’d spent away from Thorn Hill—and now she was back, she was going to lose it for good.
It had taken so damn long at the barn to get the harrow attached, the fire had gained a lot of ground by the time Liam got the tractor close to it. No one had cleared away the brush growing around the house in years, and the wind had kicked up the small fires that sparks had started on this side of the creek until they were full-size blazes. Now they were licking the slight rise of ground near the old homestead. Could he clear a firebreak and save the house?
Liam figured he’d better try.
He swung the tractor around, dropped the harrow and began to plow a line between the house and the yard leading down to the creek, as close as he could to the fire to try to stop it as far away from the house as possible.
He heard Noah shouting orders behind him, and a quick glance over his shoulder told him his family—and Enid—were working to put out the little fires started by drifting sparks between the Ridley property and the Flying W.
He’d need to keep an eye on those. He’d work while he could to save the Ridley house, but if the main body of the fire made any move toward the Flying W, he’d shift his energies there.
He plowed a strip of earth past the Ridley house and beyond, making a wide arc so as not to leave any place for the fire to get around him and burn from the other side. When he judged he’d gone far enough, he circled around, dropped the harrow again and drove back the way he’d come.
Now he could see his siblings, mother and Enid racing frantically to put out flames. A gust of wind nearly knocked his hat off his head, and he clamped it down hard with one hand and swore. If only the damn tractor could go faster. But he was going as fast as his equipment and the terrain allowed.
He swung past his siblings, turned the tractor again and was ready for another pass when Stella cried out and pointed across the creek.
Before Liam could even make out what was happening, Enid had raced past him, shovel in hand. She leaped the tiny trickle of water in Pittance Creek and kept going.
Liam saw why.
“The fire—it’s heading for Thorn Hill!” Maya cried. She raced after Enid.
“Maya—what are you doing?” Stella called.
Maya didn’t bother to answer.
Liam found himself shifting gears to take the tractor down the hill and across the creek.
“Liam—you can’t,” Stella shouted, coming after him.
“What about the Ridley house?” his mother called out.
Liam knew what she was thinking. The value of the Ridley property would go down without its buildings, and she was counting on the sale of the spread to fund her future.
He had his own future to think about.
The Flying W could support Mary—and Justin and Liz, too, if necessary. But without Thorn Hill, the Coopers would be lost.
Tory didn’t think she’d ever been as terrified as when the fire jumped the line Lance had carved in the earth. Without a break to slow it down, the winds whipping the flames sent smoking sparks in all directions. Flames lapped at the dry pasture grasses, and as soon as she stamped out one set of tiny fires, more seemed to start up all around her. Olivia was whirling like a dervish, bringing her shovel down on top of sparks, throwing dirt on top of larger flames and even stamping with her feet at errant embers. Lance had circled behind them again to try to cut another break, but Tory didn’t think
