Dumb fuckin’ horses. They can be so smart, but they’ll damn well sit there while the building falls down around them.

I help her, both of us yanking the harness and then…I hear a slap, and the horse bolts out of the stable and into the night.

An engine fires up, and I look around the corner, seeing Kaleb sitting in the digger and trying to move through the snow, toward the water tower.

I freeze. He’s going to…

Oh, shit.

“Kaleb!” I yell, but then I fall silent, knowing he’s right. It’s the only way. We have to get the horses out of here, though.

Tiernan dives back inside, and I follow her, going for Ruffian as she hurries for Shawnee. Heat engulfs us as the crackles of the fire surround us, and I hear a moan in the barn as the rafters probably start to give way. Jesus.

“Tiernan, go!” I bellow. “Get out of here!”

I slap Ruffian, sending him running out the door, but a loud scream pierces the air, and I whip around, seeing Tiernan pinned in the stall doorway as Shawnee squeezes past her. Smoke billows as blood trickles down the wood, and she cries out, slapping the horse again. Shawnee goes running, and I leap out of his way as he races past me and then scurry over to Tiernan. Blood pours down her left arm, and I grab her, wrapping my arm around her.

We cough, spilling out of the stable, and Tiernan falls to the ground as something creaks and tips behind me. I spin around just in time to see Kaleb slam the digger into the wooden water tower, giving it more and more power until the tank tips over and water sloshes, and then it spills, cascading over the barn and stable and dousing the flames.

My shoulders fall, the wind nipping at my lips and ears as I watch the glow die, the smoke pour into the air, and the fire slowly extinguish.

Exhaling, I turn and drop to my knees.

Tiernan.

Taking her arm in one hand and her face in the other, I tip her chin up. “Look at me,” I tell her.

She blinks her eyes open, flurries kicking up from all the ruckus and flitting across her eyelashes. Her blood drips over my fingers, and I slowly turn her arm, seeing the slice in the skin on her upper arm.

Blood spills from the wound, and I squeeze her arm, trying to stop the flow, but she hisses, her eyes watering.

“How’d you know to slap the horses?” I ask, trying to take her mind off the pain.

“I didn’t,” she chokes out. “It’s just what they do in the movies.”

I laugh to myself.

She’s shivering. We need to get her inside.

“How’d the fire start?” she asks, looking over my shoulder.

I shake my head. “Could’ve been electrical. Could’ve been the furnace. Who knows?”

“He’ll blame us.”

“He’ll definitely blame us,” I grumble, putting her good arm around my neck and lifting her to her feet again.

“You did good, though.”

I look in her eyes. No hesitation. She went straight for the horses.

Scaring the shit out of me, yes, but she was brave.

“Just don’t do that again, okay?” I ask her.

I start to help her toward the house, but Kaleb suddenly appears, sweeps her into his arms and away from me, jerking his chin from me to the barn.

I don’t have time to argue before he turns and carries her back to the house, her pained eyes locked only on him as they go.

I clench my jaw, watching them disappear into the house.

And then I turn around to clean up the fucking mess in the barn like I’m told.

Tiernan

I suck in air between my teeth. The gash is too deep.

Letting out a sob, I turn my face away from the blood as Kaleb inspects my arm.

What do I do? We’re miles over snow and dangerous roads from any hospital, and it hurts. What if it gets infected?

My knees shake. I want Jake here.

After Kaleb brought me inside, he sat me down on the kitchen table, wrapped up my arm, and started a fire before running back outside to help Noah. The fire looked all but extinguished, but they had to get the animals back inside shelter, and since the shop was the only thing still fully intact and not drenched in smoke, I watched through the kitchen window as they loaded hay into the garage and brought in the animals. They left the bay door cracked for fresh air, but that wouldn’t stop the noxious mess Jake was going to come home to in a couple days.

God, he’s going to be pissed. Half his barn is now useless, and the shop will smell like horseshit soon.

But hey, at least the animals will enjoy a temperature-controlled environment for a while.

The poor dogs pace around the kitchen table, looking at me with worry.

Kaleb squeezes my arm, and an ache courses deep as it stings. “Kaleb…” I beg.

I don’t know if it really hurts that much, or if I’m just scared. I can’t get to a doctor if I need one.

Turning, I meet his eyes, his brow etched as he grabs a clean towel and presses my hand to it for pressure as he goes to the cabinets above the fridge.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I hear Noah growl and the front door slam shut. “We’ve never had a fire up here. Not once!” He throws open the cabinet next to the sink and pulls out the bottle of Cuervo they keep there.

“Except that time I shot a flaming arrow into the gasoline jug when I was twelve, but I kind of knew that was going to happen,” he mumbles. “The only thing that got damaged then was my hide.”

I want to laugh, but I don’t have the energy. My hand wets with the blood soaking through the towel as my legs dangle over the edge of the table. I hear the tequila slosh behind me as Noah downs a couple swallows, and I look over, seeing Kaleb throw a red tin box on the table.

My pulse kicks up a notch.

But instead of coming back to the table, he walks behind me, and I hear the sink turn on. I look over my shoulder, seeing him wash his hands.

My stomach churns and knots, and I bite my lip.

“Here.” Noah nudges me, the cool glass bottle hitting my shoulder. “Drink this.”

I shake my head. I can’t stomach anything right now.

Kaleb comes over and opens the box, pulling out various tools.

“Were you guys awake?” I ask, looking between them. “I mean, thank God you caught the fire in time.”

Noah’s gaze flashes to Kaleb, but neither of them answers. Kaleb takes my arm, gently pulling off the sticky towel, and I groan, a tear spilling over.

Changing my mind, I grab the bottle out of Noah’s hand and throw it back, gulping down two huge swallows.

The burn scorches my throat, and I cough, someone taking the bottle out of my hand again, and I dry heave, ready to fucking throw up. That’s nasty.

But I grab the bottle again and force down another shot.

Kaleb leans over the box, pulling out a needle and thread, and I watch, the tequila blazing a path to my stomach as he uses some sort of clamp to thread the needle and then flick a lighter under it, sanitizing it.

What the fuck?

And then it hits me.

Oh, no.

I shake my head. “Kaleb, no.”

He shoots his eyes up to me, his dark green gaze unflinching.

But his stomach—the top half of his body bare, because he never got completely dressed when he ran outside—tightens with his heavy breaths. Almost like he’s…nervous.