by Karen Foley
An uprooted tree lay beside him and the thick foliage made access to the small herd all but impossible. They would need to cut the fencing away to free the trapped animals, as well as provide them with an escape route.
Dismounting, Holt and Cort secured their horses alongside Evan’s and retrieved their wire cutters. One cow was on her side on the ground with barbed wire encircling her feet and hindquarters. Evan had one knee on her neck to prevent her from rising as he worked to cut her loose. Three more cows had the same length of wire coiled around their legs. If they became spooked and tried to bolt, they would not only injure the cow on the ground, but possibly Evan too. All it would take was a sudden crack of thunder or a bolt of lightning to turn the situation deadly.
“Cort, hold this wire for me,” Holt directed, and as the other man held the sharp barbs safely aside, Holt climbed through the fencing and knelt on the opposite side of the cow. Water squelched around him and Holt guessed it was about six inches deep and rising fast. The cow’s eyes rolled back as he hunkered by her side and her breath came in gusty snorts. She was covered in mud and manure and the wire was so badly snarled around her that Holt knew Evan couldn’t have freed her before the water came up and threatened to drown her.
As if reading his thoughts, Evan lifted his head and through the water that gushed off his hat, gave Holt a grateful look. “I sure am glad to see you, brother. Looks like one of the dams let go upriver, or they had to open a sluice gate. We don’t have much time.”
“We’ll get it done,” Holt said, but knew Evan was right. He ran his gloved hand over the animal’s side, trying to calm her as he gauged where best to cut the wire. “I’m going to release the pressure here. That way if those other cows spook, they won’t drag this one—and us—clear across the pasture.”
“I’ll work on the others,” Cort called, and stepped over to where the remaining three cows had been hobbled by the fencing. He moved slowly and spoke in low, soothing tones as he approached them, until finally he could grasp the snarled barbed wire in one hand and begin carefully snipping it away.
While Evan worked to cut the wire away from the cow’s front legs, Holt released the fencing from where it twisted around the cow’s back legs, carefully pulling it away from the animal until finally, she was free.
“Heads up!” Holt cried as the cow kicked madly, made a deep grunting sound and heaved herself to her feet. Holt pointed to the length of fence that lay on the ground near Evan. “Cut that wire or they’re just going to get tangled up again!”
Because of the fallen tree limbs, Evan was the only one who could easily reach the section of fence that had been trampled and broken by the panicked cows. His movements were deft as he snipped back the wire and created an opening through which the cows could escape. Holt moved to help Cort free the other cows and then stepped quickly back as they pulled the wire away and the animals made a break for freedom.
“Okay, boys, let’s get them to high ground!” Holt called, gathering the loose wire and wrapping it around one of the fence posts.
Cort and Evan used their hands to wave the cows through the opening and then followed them to ensure they didn’t backtrack. Holt bent to retrieve his wire cutters when a movement caught his attention. A calf floundered in the watery muck, her big, dark eyes mirroring her terror. He’d missed seeing her, half-hidden as she was behind a fallen tree limb. Holt slogged his way over to her and, as she struggled to stand, he had to partially dig her back legs out of the quagmire that threatened to keep her trapped and drown her.
“It’s okay, darlin’,” he said soothingly as he wrestled the baby heifer out of the mud. “I’ve got you.”
Exhausted by the effort to free herself, her legs wobbled and then buckled. Holt lifted her into his arms, holding her securely as he picked his way through the debris and made his way back to his horse. He noted with increasing concern that the water had risen nearly a foot since he and Cort had arrived and there was no sign of the rain letting up.
“I’ll bring this one back to the barn,” he called to Evan. “You and Cort take the others to high ground.”
Evan gave him a thumbs-up and Holt settled the calf across his horse’s neck before swinging himself into the saddle and shifting the baby cow to a more secure position across his thighs. He turned back toward the ranch, using one hand to keep the calf in place. The rain hadn’t let up in intensity and visibility was poor, making the return trip even slower. He was soaked through to his skin and covered in equal parts mud and manure, but he didn’t mind. This was the part of ranching he liked best, when he was in the saddle and making a difference. He didn’t even mind that he’d need to go back out and repair the damaged fencing. Since it was already getting dark, he’d wait until morning to take care of that chore, if the water allowed him to get that close.
When the ranch finally came into sight, he turned his horse toward the breeding barn and walked the big chestnut gelding right inside. Sliding from the saddle, he pulled the calf down and carried her over to the pens where he kept the pregnant cows. Setting her inside, he used a towel to rub her down and then prepared a quart of warm milk replacement. She’d need to be bottle-fed until they could reunite her with the momma cow. The calf latched on to the bottle and Holt chuckled as she enthusiastically drained the contents.
“There you go,” he said, when the bottle was empty. He gave her an armful of alfalfa and, satisfied that she was warm and comfortable, led Chaos back to the horse barn. He spent another half hour unsaddling his horse and rubbing him down, and then ensuring all the horses had feed and water.
He was preparing to turn out the lights and make a run for the main house when Evan and Cort appeared, leading their horses into the barn.
“It’s getting worse out there,” Evan said, removing his hat and shaking the excess water from it. “If that river surges, we could see a lot of damage.”
“I’m gonna head home,” Cort said. “I don’t like leaving Emmaline alone during storms like this.”
Holt gave the younger man an approving glance. There had been a time when he’d been convinced Cort’s intentions toward Emmaline had been less than honorable. The thought made him feel ashamed now, because he’d rarely seen a couple more in love than Cort and Emmaline, unless it was Luke and Jorie. He might have felt jealous if they hadn’t been his own family.
“If we lose power, come up to the house,” he said. “The generator will be working and we have plenty of room.”
“Because Jess is gone and the apartment is empty. You’re an idiot, you know that?” Evan yanked the saddle from his horse and hung it over a stand, before hanging the wet pad on a nearby hook. Leading his horse into a stall, he removed the bridle and then came back out to hang it on the wall. “I liked having Jess around and she’s a damned good cook. Why’d you have to go and ruin it?”
“She had her reasons for wanting to leave.”
“Sure she did.” Evan made a scoffing sound, clearly not believing him. “I never took you for a stupid man, so you should probably go after her and make things right.”
“I intend to. She said I need to woo her. She wants an old-fashioned courtship.”
“Then give that to her.” Evan stopped and put his hands on his hips as he stared at Holt. “It’s not that hard, bro. Your job is to make her understand what a dumbass you’ve been and then convince her that you’ve come to your senses and realize you can’t live without her.”
“Oh, yeah?” Holt stared at his brother. “If it’s so damned easy, why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Evan grinned and began filling a feed bucket with a fragrant mixture of oats and grains. “That’s by choice. I have plenty of female companionship, and if I ever wanted to become exclusive, I could do it in a heartbeat.”
“Uh-huh, sure. I’d like to see that.”
“Well, don’t hold your breath. I’m enjoying the bachelor life too much to commit to anyone.”
“Someday,” said Cort, taking the feed bucket f
rom him and hanging it over his own horse’s stall, “some girl is going to walk into your life and bam! Your bachelor days are going to be history. You’ll never know what hit you.”
Evan laughed and began filling a second feed bucket. “That will never happen. If I decide to become exclusive with anyone—and that’s a huge if—it will be on my terms. No female is going to control my life, not like you pansies.”
This time it was Cort who laughed. He gave Evan a friendly slap on his back. “Sure. You just keep telling yourself that. But I hope to hell I’m around when it happens to you.”
Evan scowled and turned away to hang the feed bucket in his horse’s stall. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like When hell freezes over and Holt exchanged a grin with Cort.
They left the barn, snapping the lights off and sliding the big door closed. Cort headed toward his truck as Holt and Evan jogged across the soggy grass toward the house. Evan reached out and put a hand on Holt’s arm, stopping him.
“Look at that!”
Holt peered through the sheeting rain and saw the river had overflowed its banks. The long expanse of property behind the main house was now completely underwater. The river itself was churning and rushing at a furious rate, more than it had been when they’d rescued the cows. He moved closer and as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see the current carried debris with it, fallen trees and logs that the high water had dislodged from the embankments.
Running for the covered porch, he pulled his phone out and called Emmaline. She answered on the first ring.
“Holt? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, Cort should be home shortly. We found a small herd of cattle stranded by the rising water and had to get them to higher ground, or he’d have already been home.”
“Oh, good. I wondered where he was. What’s up?”
“Do you have Jessica’s phone number?”
“Uh, yes.” She gave him the number and Holt committed it to memory. “Can I ask what’s going on?”
“I’m worried about her. Do you know if she’s at home or with her parents?”
“I talked with her earlier and I think she was at her own place. Why?”
Holt sensed his sister’s anxiety. “The river is surging, but I’m hoping she’s fine. I’ll give her a call to be sure.”
“Thank you, Holt. And for what it’s worth—” She broke off.
“I’m listening.”
“I probably shouldn’t say anything, but she’s pretty upset.”
Holt was silent for a moment. “I know. I’m going to fix it.”
“I hope so,” Emmaline said.
Holt hung up and immediately dialed Jessica’s number, frustrated when it went to voice mail.
“Jessica,” he said. “This is Holt. The river is rising and I’m worried about you. Call me to let me know you’re okay.” He paused. “For what it’s worth, the other night was amazing for me too. That’s it. . . call me.”
He hung up feeling a little foolish, more than a little frustrated, and hopeful that he would hear from her soon. If she didn’t return his call, he’d go find her.
Chapter Fifteen
For Jessie, cooking was both comforting and therapeutic. From the time she’d been old enough to hang out at the cantina with her father, she’d had a fascination with creating food that tasted delicious. But it was her grandmother who had taught her to cook with love and who had shared her recipes with Jessie. As the rain continued to drum down on the roof and pelt against the windows, Jessie prepared her own version of comfort food, pan de elota, a sweet corn bread that could pass as a dessert. Those who knew her also knew it was her go-to food whenever she felt stressed or unhappy. Tonight, however, the familiar routine of preparing the favorite dish did nothing to soothe her frayed nerves or her aching heart. Checking that her oven was ready, she scraped the batter into a pan. As she did so, the lights in the kitchen flickered.
“No, no,” she said, setting the bowl down. She had just enough time to grab a flashlight from a nearby drawer before the lights went out for good. “Damn.”
Switching the flashlight on, she peered out the window, but the darkness was absolute. She couldn’t see anything beyond the water that sheeted down the outside of the glass. Had the entire town lost power, or only her small lane? The other cottages weren’t occupied, so there was no one in the vicinity to turn to.
Grabbing her raincoat, she slipped it on and stepped onto the deck that overlooked the river. At first, she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. The Pedernales River, which was normally twenty feet away from the cottage, was now swirling around and beneath the small structure. The pilings that were meant to keep the house above the flood level had all but disappeared beneath the churning water. In all the years she had lived in Last Stand, the river had never flooded like this.
As she pointed the beam of light into the muddy water, the deck suddenly shifted beneath her feet, causing her to lurch unsteadily and clutch the railing to keep her balance. An enormous log, swept along by the current, had struck one of the support posts beneath the cabin. Jessie couldn’t be certain, but she thought the piling had actually snapped beneath the impact.
She needed to leave. Now.
Returning to the cottage, she grabbed her car keys and her purse, frantically trying to think of what else she should do. She turned off the oven, just in case the power did return and went back onto the deck. But the stairs that led down to the gravel driveway were submerged and the water was rising fast.
So fast.
Even now, it covered the top step and lapped at the edge of the deck, pushing forward like the incoming tide until the cold water enveloped her feet. Gauging the distance between the house and her Jeep, Jessie briefly considered risking it. She was a strong swimmer, but even the Jeep would soon be underwater. Peering through the deluge, she could see debris in the water. Logs, downed trees and even a piece of lawn furniture swept past the cottage. Trying to swim through that would be foolish, even potentially deadly.
She glanced upward, blinking as the sheeting rain struck her face. How long before the cottage was underwater or, worse, torn free from its support posts and flung into the current? The river would carry it downstream and, even if the little house managed to stay intact, there was a bridge farther down the river that would smash it apart.
Trying not to panic, Jessie retreated into the cottage. She closed the door behind her, but dark water began to seep in over the threshold and spread across the kitchen floor. Pulling out her mobile phone, she dialed 911 with fingers that trembled, grateful when a dispatcher answered on the second ring.
“Last Stand Police Department, please state your emergency.”
“Hi, it’s Jessie Montero and I’m trapped in my house by the river,” she said desperately. “The water is rising fast and I can’t get to my car. Please send someone quickly!”
“What’s the address, ma’am?”
Jessie gave the woman the street address, adding, “The road is completely underwater. I don’t know how you’re going to reach me.”
“Ma’am, try to stay calm. We’ll have someone out to you as soon as possible. Is there a safe place you can go where the water won’t reach you?”
“I don’t think so,” Jessie said, looking frantically around the small cottage. “Maybe the roof, but I’m terrified the house will be pulled off its support posts. Please hurry!”
“Hold tight, ma’am. Someone will be there soon.”
As Jessie ended the call, she saw she had two missed calls from Holt. Worse, the phone was almost out of battery power. Water was now pouring in around the kitchen door and swirling around her ankles. Peering through the window, she could see the water level had reached the bottom of the windows. If she didn’t leave the cottage soon, she might not be able to get out at all.
What if the first responders couldn’t reach her? What if the cottage was swept away? Would she be safer inside or on the roof? She couldn’t think straight. She n
eeded to hear Holt’s voice. She needed to make things right with him in case things went very wrong and rescue became impossible. At the very least, she needed to tell Holt how she felt about him. With shaking hands, she pressed his number. The phone rang twice and Jessie sagged with relief when she heard his voice on the other end.
“Jessica! Where are you?”
“I’m at my house and the water is up to the windows! I can’t get to my car, Holt. I called 911, but I don’t know if they’ll be able to reach me. The river is rising fast!”
“Can you get onto the roof?”
“I don’t know! I think so, if I climb onto the deck railing.”
“Try, sweetheart, but only if you can do it safely. Otherwise, stay inside. I’m on my way.”
Her cell phone beeped, signaling the battery was almost drained.
“Holt!”
“I’m here.”
“Holt, about what happened—”
“Jessica, sweetheart, tell me when I have you safe in my arms.”
Jessie gave a choked laugh that was half sob. “Promise you’ll get here soon. I love you—”
With a last warning beep, the phone went dead.
“Holt!” she shouted, but there was only silence and the sound of trickling water as it continued to find its way through the cracks around the door. Overhead, rain drummed on the roof. Just the thought of opening the door and trying to navigate her way through the dark, knee-deep water terrified her. As she peered through the glass, she could see dark objects floating past the deck and the knowledge that the water could soon rise above the windows made her feel panicky. Her opportunity to climb to the roof was quickly disappearing.
At that moment, something big and heavy thudded against the house and made it shake. Jessie grabbed at the counter for balance, terrified the cottage would be ripped from the pilings. She was very close to losing it. People died in floods every year and while she’d heard that death by drowning was a peaceful way to go, the thought of being engulfed in the murky, cold river water terrified her. She could hear it rushing past and knew the current was moving dangerously fast. But neither did she want to be trapped inside the house. If the rescue personnel or Holt did succeed in reaching the house, they might not realize she was inside.