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Guess he wasn’t wrong on that one. Not fully, anyway. It never impeded my ability to run the ranch. Just the rodeo.
There were also all the rides after Dad died. When running the ranch suddenly all became too much. When there were too many questions I didn’t have the answer to. Hell, I still don’t have the answer to.
“What do you think Dad would have done, huh?” I ask, continuing to stroke his hair. I can feel him calming under my touch, the reaction causing the cows around him to start calming among the chaos as well. “He’s probably looking down on me calling me every name in the book, but I know he would have done the same. There’s no way he would have left any of you behind. Although, I’m sure he would have remembered the fucking bolt cutters.”
A roar of the fire bellows across the field, making me jump. Duke rears back and the cows paw at the ground.
I suck in a breath and regret it as I begin what feels like an endless cycle of coughing. Each rise of my chest brings a new wave of burning down my throat and into my lungs, starting the cycle all over again.
This isn’t how I thought I would go. Being caught in a wildfire wasn’t in even on my radar of possible scenarios that would end my life.
But here I fucking am.
I herd Duke and the cows into as much of the corner of the property as I can, hoping that even an extra couple of inches will provide some relief for us. The heat and smoke are overwhelming, and the more I move, the more lethargic I feel myself getting. I know I can’t afford to stop, or I might lose consciousness and then it will have all been for nothing.
“This hasn’t been for nothing, right, Duke?” I ask between coughs, placing my head on his neck. I hold on to his mane as if he’s the only thing holding me together. “This isn’t it.”
Blinding light flashes through my closed eyelids. The fire must have jumped. It’s here now.
The odd sensation is that the heat didn’t come with it. It still feels the same level of hell that I’ve been feeling for the past hour.
“Chance!”
Dakota’s voice rings through my head. Now I’m imagining things.
“Chance! Answer me!”
More lights and sounds of voices fill my head. I can hear what sounds like more people calling my name, but I can’t bring myself to lift my head to face it. Mostly because I’m not sure if I can handle it when I find out it is just a part of my imagination.
“Cut the fence, Wyatt! Hurry!”
Of course Wyatt would bring cutters.
“Kit, do you have that side?” Now I’m imaging Wyatt’s voice.
Wrapping my arm around Duke’s neck, I let him shoulder my weight and keep me upright as I fight to remain where I am. I can’t fall. If I fall, I’m dead.
I hear the movement of the cattle and I know I should lift my head to make sure they aren’t going to scatter, but I can’t do it. I can’t move. If this is it, there’s nothing I can do for them anyway.
“Chance! Talk to me!” Dakota yells.
I guess there’s no harm talking to her since it’ll be the last chance I get. Even if it’ll only be in my mind.
“I never should have treated you the way I did,” I confess. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”
I don’t know if she hears me, the imaginary Dakota in my mind, but it feels good to get the confession out. Even if it means I start a new round of coughing.
“We’re coming to you, Chance! Just hang on!”
I chuckle. Hang on. If only she knew I was literally hanging on to Duke for dear life.
Laughing. That’s something else I should have done more. Another thing that Dakota let me see I am capable of.
“Kit, can’t you move these cows any faster?” her impatient tone rings over the deafening flames.
“You’re more than welcome to try to move this thousand-pound calf yourself there, Darlin’,” Kit’s sarcastic tone hits my ears and I groan.
Even that old asshole is in my hallucination now?
