Western Flame

Chapter 20

Black, sooty smoke billowed out of the storage building, and Tanner coughed, shielding his face with his arm, the sinking feeling of loss hitting him while hay bales caught fire and began to collapse. Jake was holding him back, and shouting at the crew to focus on the far corner, all of them with buckets and hoses strung from the nearby water spigot.

"Don't be an idiot and go in there," Jake added when Tanner tried to shake him off, growling. "You're already singed."

Tanner went lax, his lungs already straining from the smoke. Despite his efforts while he waited for help, the flames had spread too quickly. The minimal stream from the hose had done nothing, and he couldn't find the fire extinguishers they were supposed to have, by law, in every building on the ranch.

It had only been a bit of smoke and some small flames when he'd seen the fire and jumped into action.

"How dry is that damned hay?" Jake asked. "I've never seen a fire grow like that!"

"Your guess is as good as mine," he replied. The tightly packed round bales would burn slowly in any normal fire situation, so he was wondering the same damned question. Tanner heard the irrigation truck arriving, and strode over to guide Harry back, weaving around the haphazardly parked crew trucks.

"Rowan, move that damned truck, the fire crew will need room!" he yelled and pointed.

Rowan jumped back from a hose and ran, moving the truck out of the way. He ran for another one, reversing it back along the fenceline. Tanner jumped up on the running boards of the irrigation truck and he and Harry shared a look as Harry engaged the pump from inside the cab.

"It's not good, is it?" Harry said, looking in the mirror.

"Get your ass out there, we'll need to unbolt the sprayer manifold and direct it up along the top of the stacks, see if we can't soak them to keep the flames from reaching the roof," Tanner barked, and jumped down.

As the crew got the truck's water shooting towards the flames, they licked higher up, touching the steaming roof. It might be too late to save. A full winters-worth of good grass hay was in there. Hay they needed for the pregnant heifers currently in the acreage beside the shed, all huddled along the far side of the pasture, away from the noise.

The fire leapt onto the next stack of bales, closer to the garage side of the storage shed. Tanner mentally ran through his equipment list and where it was stored, and swore. "Fuck! We need to get in there and get the damned equipment!"

Bobby heard him and shouted at a couple of men to pull up on the door. Tanner joined them, wrenching on the bottom of it to push it up and bypass the automatic mechanism. If they could get it up, they could get in.

"Heave boys, let's go," Bobby yelled and grunts emanated around him as he wrapped his fingers around the steel bottom of the door. They lifted, and as the locks snapped, it shot up, blowing more smoke out at them, sending them all backwards onto their asses.

Rowan shouldered past them, a bandanna on his face. Tanner bolted in behind him, holding his breath. You could barely see into the garage, but he made the outline of the thresher and Rowan pushing the hitch support up so they could drag it out. He grasped onto one side of the tongue brace and nodded at Rowan who heaved with him from the other side. Something brushed his shoulder, and Jake, his t-shirt up over his nose, stepped up beside him, hands on a rake support. Their eyes met in the gloom.

"You are insane, you know that?" Jake yelled through his shirt.

"Give a good tug, it'll come easy enough," Tanner yelled back, inhaling more smoke as he did. He heard the tractor he'd ridden up to feed cattle rumbling up behind them and they all grunted and pulled towards the sound. If they could get it hitched, they could pull it out and come back for the square baler that was parked behind it.