Remembering what had happened to Max, Carole shuddered and turned instead to open the door of Half Dollar’s stall nearby. “Come on, boy,” she said as she slipped on the pony’s halter. “Let’s grab your friend Penny from next door and get out of here.”
Outside the main entrance, Lisa was struggling to break free of Max’s iron grip on her arm. “They’re not all out yet!” she yelled. “You just said so!”
“It’s too late,” Max cried, stumbling as he tried to put weight on his bad leg. “The loft—it’s too dangerous. Listen, you can hear the fire engines. They’ll be here soon.”
Lisa was vaguely aware of the scream of sirens coming closer, but she knew they couldn’t come soon enough to save the rest of the horses. She had to explain that to Max, but her head felt fuzzy and thick, as if it were full of stuffing. All she knew for sure was that she had to get back in there, to keep going back until every horse was safe.
“Whoa!” Phil shouted at that moment.
Glancing over, Lisa saw the horse he was leading—a boarder’s big warmblood gelding, which Ben had just led out—go up, his hooves flailing dangerously close to Phil’s head.
“Drop the lead!” Max shouted, hobbling toward the rearing horse as fast as he could. “Get away. I’ll get him.”
As soon as his grip loosened on her arm, Lisa took off. Taking a deep gulp of the relatively clear air, she raced toward the doors, not stopping until she was well inside the entryway.
She almost regretted her action when she paused to glance around. The stable was an inferno. The smoke was so thick in the entryway that she couldn’t even see to the other side. When she glanced over, she saw that the student locker room was a blazing pit of fire. She stared at it for a moment, stunned at the sheer fury of the flames as they swallowed up everything in their path. Then the shriek of a terrified horse brought her back to her senses. Blinking back tears as the smoke stung her eyes, she plunged down the south aisle.
The smoke was even worse there. In addition, Lisa could hear an ominous crackling sound from overhead. Not quite daring to look up, she hurried forward, coughing and glancing into the stalls she passed.
Suddenly she heard an impossibly loud crash from somewhere behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that a portion of the loft floor had just collapsed into the entryway, pulverizing the very spot where she had just been standing.
With a shudder, she turned away from the sight, not daring to think about it just yet. Hearing the horse’s cry again from just ahead, she hurried forward until she spotted Diablo.
“Oh no!” she gasped with a sharp intake of breath that set her coughing worse than ever. Diablo’s stall door was open, but the gelding was still huddled in the rear corner. He was rolling his eyes in terror as flames licked closer and closer to his hooves. Rearing up, he pawed frantically at the air, letting out another loud cry.
Lisa gasped again. Before she could figure out what to do, she heard Stevie calling her name. Turning, she saw her friend standing outside Krona’s stall, struggling to control the horse she was leading, a normally friendly and curious gelding named Romeo who belonged to one of Lisa’s high school classmates.
Shooting one last helpless glance at Diablo as the bay gelding reared up again, Lisa turned and hurried toward her friend. “What?” she shouted over the roar of the fire.
“Take this!” Stevie yelled back, tossing Romeo’s lead rope to her as the gelding jigged and whinnied in terror. “I’ve got to get Krona out. He won’t jump over the fire.”
Lisa held the gelding’s rope, glancing over into the pony’s stall. Krona was standing stock-still in front of a patch of fire that stood between him and the door. As Lisa watched, Stevie jumped over the fire and buckled on the pony gelding’s halter. Not bothering with the lead rope, she grabbed the nylon noseband and wrestled the pony forward with sheer bodily strength and determination.
Krona fought back for a moment, but when Stevie grabbed one of his ears and twisted it, he shot forward, snorting in annoyance. Lisa jumped aside to avoid being trampled, stepping on the dangling lead rope until Stevie managed to grab it.
“Go on!” Stevie called, gesturing toward the entryway. “Let’s get them out of here!”
“We can’t go that way!” Lisa replied. “It’s blocked.”
Stevie looked dismayed. “Are you sure?” she cried. “The back aisle’s getting pretty dicey.”
“I’m sure,” Lisa replied, pulling on Romeo’s lead and heading around the corner. “We’ve got to go this way.”
FOURTEEN
As she struggled to keep Krona moving through the fiery, smoky back aisle, Stevie paused outside Nickel’s stall, planning to grab the old gray pony as well. But as soon as she reached for the halter, Krona wheeled and tried to bolt back the way he had come. Behind him, Romeo snorted and half reared, picking up on the pony’s panic.
“Keep moving!” Lisa shouted, sounding pretty well panicked herself.
Realizing that they didn’t have much time—she had been doing her best to ignore the sounds and heat wafting down from the loft, but that was getting harder and harder with every passing second—Stevie forgot about Nickel’s halter and settled for merely pushing the stall door open as she passed. “Come on, Nickel!” she cried to the frightened pony inside. “Come on out, boy!”
“You do the left side, I’ll do the right!” Lisa called.
Nodding, Stevie kept moving, pausing just long enough to open the next occupied stall on the left side of the aisle. Krona continued to fight her, but luckily the pony was small, and Stevie was determined to keep him going.
From somewhere behind her, Stevie heard the shrill sound of Diablo’s screams. She winced, trying not to remember her last view of the gelding as she raced past his stall on her way to grab Romeo. I did everything I could, she thought grimly, recalling how Diablo had struck out at her when she’d tried to grab him. Everything I could.
She could hear other horses calling out as well—fewer now by far than when they’d started, but still too many. Kicking open another stall, she dragged Krona forward another few feet. She knew that this would be their last trip through the burning aisle, no matter what happened. The fire was too strong now, too much for them to fight anymore.
“Come on,” she muttered, yanking the pony back into motion. “Come on!”
Lisa had fallen a little behind when the latch to Firefly’s door stuck fast, refusing to unhook. “Darn it!” she shouted as she pushed at it frantically. Behind her, she felt rather than saw Romeo start to rear again. Jumping out of the way just in time, she almost dropped the lead rope.
Grabbing it more tightly, she yanked on it to bring the gelding down on all four legs. He obeyed, though he managed to step on her foot as he danced sideways. Wincing with the sudden pain, Lisa shoved at him until he finally stepped off her. Then she turned her attention back to the stubborn latch. She was so busy with it that when Romeo pulled back again, the rope slid through her fingers.
“Oh no!” she cried, whirling around with visions flashing through her head of the gelding bucking his way back down the aisle.
Instead she saw that Romeo had darted into an empty stall across the aisle, the one where Penny usually lived. The gelding whirled around in the enclosed space, seeming to wonder where he was.
Lisa raced in and grabbed the swinging lead rope, yelling at the horse sternly to get his attention. As soon as Romeo’s ears flicked in her direction, she pulled him toward the stall door. To her relief, he followed.
“Now come on,” she told him, heading once again for the back entrance.
As she glanced ahead, she wondered if they were going to make it. Fire and smoke seemed to be everywhere, and she could barely see the vague outline of Stevie and Krona a few yards ahead.
At that moment Krona decided he’d had enough. With a loud snort, he planted his feet firmly and stood stock-still. Lisa had to haul on Romeo’s rope to keep the gelding from running right over the pony. Glancing over he
r shoulder, she saw that Nickel had wandered into the smoky aisle and was looking around, seeming dazed and confused about which way to go. Lisa clucked to him, but the old swaybacked pony didn’t appear to have heard her. He let out a wheezy sort of cough and stared back toward the corner, where Geronimo was banging against his stall door with his hooves.
Biting her lip, Lisa glanced forward again. Stevie sounded frantic as she begged and cajoled Krona to move on. Lisa looked up at the loft then and wished she hadn’t. What had once been a solid wooden floor was now a solid wall of flame—and so was the aisle ceiling.
Just as she was about to give up, to leave the horses to their own devices, grab Stevie, and get out of there if they still could, Lisa heard cries from the direction of the back entrance. Squinting through the tears that continued to pour from her stinging, burning eyes, she saw two figures rush in—Carole and Ben.
Ben headed immediately to Krona, taking the lead from Stevie and speaking to the pony in a low and rapid voice. Lisa couldn’t hear what he was saying, though. There seemed to be a loud, whining, ringing sound in her ears, making it hard to hear much of anything else. She shook her head, trying to make it stop, but it continued on and on. Meanwhile Carole pushed past Krona and Romeo. As Lisa looked back, her friend grabbed Nickel by his long white mane and turned him to face the door.
When she faced forward again, Lisa saw that Ben had Krona moving. She followed with Romeo in tow, pausing just long enough to unlatch the one other door on her side of the aisle. She was vaguely aware as she passed Jinx’s stall, just a few yards from the door, that Stevie was inside slipping on the pony’s halter.
But most of Lisa’s focus was on the doorway. All she had to do was reach the doorway.…
Carole’s fingers were numb from gripping Nickel’s mane as she and the old gelding rushed through the door a few steps behind Lisa and Romeo. Falling back as Callie appeared through the haze and hurried to grab Nickel, she collapsed onto the gravel path nearby, gulping deep breaths of the crisp, cold night air into her burning lungs.
Still in there, she thought disjointedly. Still have to—more horses—back in—
Turning her head with some difficulty, she was just in time to see Ben toss Krona’s lead rope to Phil and spin on his heel to race back in. At that moment, though, a very large man in a yellow overcoat stepped forward and grabbed Ben by the shoulder.
Carole was vaguely aware of Ben’s shouts of protest. Struggling to her feet, she hurried over. “Let him go!” she cried, poking at the big man’s broad back. “There are more horses in there! We have to—”
She spun and headed for the door. But another man, dressed the same as the first, caught her and held her back. “It’s not safe in there, miss,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You’ll have to leave the rest to us.”
Carole wanted to struggle, but she was suddenly too tired. Exhaustion swept through her body, and she staggered, almost collapsing.
A second later she felt Callie’s arms supporting her. “I’ve got her,” Callie said to someone. “I’ll take her back out of the way.”
Carole allowed Callie to help her down the path. Soon they were beyond the worst of the fire’s heat and light. Carole shivered slightly as a cold breeze tickled the back of her neck.
“Nickel,” she said, suddenly remembering the frightened old pony. “Where’s Nickel?”
“Scott has him,” Callie replied. “Max had an extra halter—Scott’s taking him out to the pasture.”
For one crazy moment Carole’s mind flashed on an image of Scott leading Max out to the pasture. Then, sorting out what Callie meant, she nodded. “There are still horses in there,” she said, glancing back at the burning building. The brightness of the fire made her eyes water anew. “Firefly, Peso …”
“They won’t let us back in,” Callie said gently. She nodded toward the firefighters, who were swarming around everywhere. “And they’re right. We did what we could, but it’s too late.”
Stevie walked up to them, still leading Jinx. “They won’t let us in,” Stevie said, sounding more confused than angry. She paused and coughed for several seconds before continuing. “The firefighters. They’re not even going in themselves. I heard one of them say so.”
Callie glanced at Jinx, who was craning his neck to see the fire. The gelding let out an anxious snort. “We’d better get him out to the field with the others,” she said. “We’re still too close to the fire—I think he’s still scared.”
Carole shook her head, clearing it a little. “Callie’s right,” she said. “Come on, I’ll walk with you in case he tries to get away.”
Stevie and Callie nodded, and they all headed toward the back pasture. Lisa, Scott, and Phil were already there, though Ben was nowhere in sight, Carole guessed that he was still back at the building, arguing with the firefighters.
She stood by the gate and watched as Stevie released Jinx into the field, where Nickel was already standing. The two ponies sniffed at each other briefly. Then, as if at some common signal that the humans couldn’t sense, both of them took off at a gallop toward the herd in the middle of the field.
Only when the ponies had disappeared into the mass of horses did Carole turn around to face the stable building. The firefighters were everywhere—rushing around the perimeter of the building, clambering around on their trucks, dragging out their huge rubber hoses. But Carole knew it was too late. The most they could hope for was to keep the fire from spreading to the outbuildings and the house. Even as she watched, the firefighters on one of the pumper trucks started hosing down the nearest outbuildings, along with a few large trees nearby.
But the stable itself was beyond help. Carole felt a lump rise in her throat as she stared at it, knowing that there were still a few horses trapped inside, a few they hadn’t been able to save.
We did all we could, she told herself helplessly. We’re lucky we even made it out with that last bunch.
But the thought didn’t comfort her at all. Her eyes blurred with tears as she turned her back on the spectacle. She stared out into the field, doing her best to focus on the ones they had managed to save.
Seeing a familiar white-splashed face separate slightly from the herd, Carole gulped in her breath and then let out a short, sharp whistle. Starlight raised his head, his ears pricking forward alertly as he stared in her direction. A second later he tossed his head and snorted, then trotted toward her.
“Hey, boy,” Carole whispered as he neared the fence. Climbing between the rails, she stood and stepped forward to meet him. He lowered his head, snuffling curiously at her clothes and hair, probably wondering why she smelled so funny and why she hadn’t brought any carrots.
Carole wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his smoky-smelling coat.
FIFTEEN
Lisa wasn’t sure how many hours later it was when she stood on the little hillside beyond what had once been the back paddock, looking over what remained of the stable building. The last of the fire trucks had finally pulled out of the driveway a few minutes earlier. The moon had set, but the stars winking in the cold, clear sky offered a little light.
I can’t believe it’s gone, Lisa thought, slowly surveying the blackened posts and beams and other rubble that had once been Pine Hollow Stables. I can’t believe it’s really all gone.
Scott gave her a squeeze. His strong arm around her shoulders was the only thing keeping her from breaking down completely, collapsing on the ground and bursting into tears. “You okay?” he murmured.
Lisa shook her head. “As a matter of fact, no, I’m not,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “I just can’t believe it.” She had said the same thing, more or less, at least twenty times in the past half hour. But she couldn’t help it. It was just so strange, so overwhelming to think that the place where she’d spent most of her happiest times for the past five years was gone—just like that.
“I know,” Scott said, his voice solemn. “I know. I’m sorry.
At least that didn’t burn, Lisa thought, imagining how easily a spark could have drifted up the hill and set the old farmhouse ablaze as well. And the firefighters saved most of the outbuildings, too. That’s something.
The thought didn’t offer much comfort, though. She found her mind drifting back, as if it wanted to avoid the truth of the present time. It was hard to believe that the first time she’d set foot in the stable, she hadn’t really wanted to be there. She remembered it as if it were yesterday. Her mother had dragged her there, dressed to the nines in the fancy new breeches and boots she’d bought her, and immediately started telling Max what a natural her daughter was in the saddle. Lisa had been terribly embarrassed—just about the only riding she’d done up to that point was a few pony rides at the zoo—and was sure she’d never want to show her face at Pine Hollow again.
But all that changed as soon as I climbed into Patch’s saddle, she thought, smiling wanly at the memory. After that first lesson, I was hooked.
Feeling her stomach lurch, she glanced toward the pasture, trying to remember if Patch was among the saved. She thought she remembered seeing the sturdy black-and-white pinto among the herd in the back pasture, but she wasn’t sure.
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