Chance didn't wait to hear any more. From here, the barn looked as solid as always, but if there really was a fire, there was no time to lose. "Let's go," he said, setting out at a run.

One look at the doorway of the old, wood building quelled any hope that Serena had been mistaken. The huge door hung open, flames licking their way along the wall toward it, and Chance stood transfixed for an instant, staring into the smoky interior.

"Uncle Joel ran in," Serena sobbed beside him. "Daddy, do something!"

From inside came the terrified whinnying of horses, and the sound galvanized Chance into action. "Get the hosepipe, Serena!" he shouted, running for the doorway. "Joel!"

There was no answer, and Chance went cold. Serena was running toward him, dragging the hose, and Chance hit the switch for the pump.

Water coughed from the end of the pipe, splashing onto the nearest flames with a hiss. Then the flow died away to a trickle, and Chance grabbed the pipe from his daughter, shaking it desperately. Nothing happened, and Chance realized with horror what had happened. The old pump had failed.

"Serena, get in the house," he ordered, fear sharpening his tone. "Call 911, then call Carita's father, do you understand?"

Sobbing, Serena nodded, staring at him with fear-widened eyes. "Quick. Go," Chance ordered, and she turned and ran.

Squaring his shoulders, Chance turned back to the barn. Joel was inside, and there was only one thing to do. Without hesitation, he flung himself into the water trough that stood near the door, soaking his clothing and even ducking his head beneath the green water. A saddle-cloth hung on the railing beside it and Chance soaked that too, then scrambled out of the trough and ran into the flaming barn.

Above, the hayloft was well ablaze, and Chance flinched as a beam cracked with a sound like a gunshot. A horse screamed in answer, and Chance raised his arm to cover his face, struggling through the shifting light and shadow until he made it to Tyke's stall.

The buckskin, eyes rolling with fear, was backed into a corner, shaking his head and giving anxious whinnies. When he saw Chance, he tossed his head, snorting a warning, and Chance realized the animal was so frightened he might even attack.

Chance hesitated a moment, looking from the terrified gelding to the rear of the barn. Joel was back there somewhere. He opened his mouth to shout, but only managed a hoarse croak and realized that in the minutes since he'd entered, the heat and smoke had thickened enormously. He was running out of time. ENDEXCERPT