The Wildest Heart by Terri Farley Read Free Book Online Page B

had screamed to be freed. “Should we let them out?”
    â€œThey’re safe for now,” Callie said. “If the fire truck comes…”
    Sam nodded and kept running. The firefighters would be busy fighting the blaze. Loose horses would just add to the confusion.
    â€œJust run,” Callie shouted.
    â€œI’ve gotta…” Sam bolted toward the barn where Ace rolled his eyes and jerked at his halter rope.
    Her knot was holding, but she couldn’t leave him tied. Anything could happen.
    â€œAce, it’s okay boy.”
    The gelding’s whinny said he knew very well that nothing was okay.
    Sam tugged the loose end of her quick-release knot and ran toward the corral, towing Ace. He followed but his steps veered from side to side, and when she opened the gate and he saw Calico, Ginger, and Judge trotting nervously around their pen, Ace refused to enter.
    â€œAce!” Sam shouted. “Knock it off!”
    Then Sam closed her eyes in frustration. At herself.
    Wise from his years on the range, Ace knew the scent of smoke meant danger. He’d learned, too, that when humans acted frantic and out of control, there was trouble.
    Callie had run inside to call the fire department. What would it hurt to comfort Ace, just a little?
    â€œSorry, pretty boy,” Sam said. As soon as she let the rope fall loose between them the horse stepped nearer.
    Ace turned his head aside, but one eye watched her. His lips moved as if grumbling what he thought of her craziness.
    â€œJust go in with them, Ace,” Sam said, but then the wind shifted, bringing smells of heat and smoke. Ace’s nostrils widened and closed, and Sam’s mind raced ahead. “Maybe in a few minutes I’ll ask Callie to give you a ride home.”
    Head bobbing so that his black forelock covered, then cleared from his eyes and the star on his forehead, Ace followed her into the corral. The two paint mares and the old bay looked nervous, but Sam was pretty sure they weren’t terrified.
    Then they proved it. As she set Ace loose with a pat on the rump, the other horses rushed to stand guard at their empty feed bins.
    Thunder rolled overhead, making Sam walk faster. When lightning crackled, she ran. Rain beganpattering down. But before Sam could feel relieved, she heard more crackling. Not lightning this time, but brush burning. When she looked up, a yellow haze of smoke drifted across the clouds.
    The wrought-iron gate clanged as Sam entered the shady garden and saw Callie coming down the concrete path that looped around the side of Mrs. Allen’s house. The path led to Mrs. Allen’s art studio, a separate building, with high, round windows. Callie carried Imp and Angel.
    Sam’s mind raced. Callie should have been in the house by now, calling the fire department!
    â€œThey were hiding back there,” Callie said. “I couldn’t leave them on their own.”
    â€œI bet they were looking for Mrs. Allen,” Sam said. She felt sorry for the little dogs. Callie was right—Imp and Angel weren’t smart in the way Ace was. Left on his own, the mustang might survive a fire. Those two little dogs wouldn’t stand a chance. But how much closer had the fire burned in five minutes?
    There was no time to worry about it.
    â€œI’ll do it,” Sam said, but Callie was right beside her. “There’s a brush truck at Three Ponies Ranch,” Sam added, as they nearly fell through the front door together. “It should be able to get here right away.”
    Grateful she knew where to find the telephone from the time she’d spent here before, Sam turned to the round table draped with what looked like a gypsy shawl.
    While Sam dialed, Callie ran fresh water into a bowl for the panting dogs.
    Before she’d even finished dialing, Sam heard the faraway wail of a siren.
    Someone else must have sighted the smoke and reported it. But Sam didn’t hang up. What if