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Now they had to move two hundred wild horses before the fire decided for them.

TWENTY-FOUR

The bay mare hit the mouth of the loading alley and stopped so hard the horse behind her nearly climbed onto her back.

Mac saw it happen from twenty feet away.

The mare threw her head up, white showing around her eyes as the wind shoved smoke across the pens. Someone behind her lifted a flag. Another person moved closer to the panel on her left, trying to keep her pointed toward the open stock trailer.

She backed. The horses behind her backed with her.

“Hold up,” Mac called.

Dana looked over from beside the trailer. He pointed toward the alley. “They’re putting too much pressure on her.”

For half a second he thought she might remind him whose horses they were.

Instead she lifted a hand. “Everybody back off.”

The people along the panels stepped away. The mare stood trembling, nostrils flared, staring into the trailer as if they’d asked her to walk into the mouth of hell.

He knew that look. He’d seen it in horses since he was old enough to stand on the bottom rail of his father’s corrals. Fear looked a lot like stubborn refusal if you were in a hurry. And everybody here was in a hurry.

That doesn’t make her less scared.

“Give her a minute,” he said.

The man with the flag lowered it. The mare’s head came down slightly. She blew hard through her nose, took one step, then stopped again.

Nobody moved.

“Attagirl,” he murmured, though there was no chance in hell she could hear him over the wind.

She took another step. Then another. Her front feet hit the trailer floor. She jumped at the sound and nearly came back out, but the people behind her held still instead of closing in. The mare stood there for two long seconds.

Then she went forward. The horses behind her followed.

Mac breathed again.

Dana glanced at him. “Ranch kid?”

“Alberta.”

“That explains a few things.”

“Probably more than I’d like.”

She gave him a there-and-gone-again smile before turning back to the loading crew. “Keep it quiet. Same thing with the next group.”

He moved toward the rear gate as the last horse went in. Ben was already there checking the latch, and Waylon came around the other side carrying a length of rope they hadn’t needed after all.

“Frankie’s jealous, by the way,” Waylon said.

Mac looked at him. “Oh yeah?”

“Told me right after we got the call.” His gaze went toward the pens. “Said if she wasn’t home with Danny and Snoopy, she’d be out here.”

Mac could believe it. Frankie had grown up on a ranch. She’d understand exactly how much work sat behind two hundred frightened animals and a line of trailers.