Free Buried Flames by Kennedy Layne Page B

get you to where we need to go.”
    “What will you do with their eyes?” one of the women asked, but Mason didn’t turn around to see which one. He grit his teeth to prevent himself from snapping a reply. Couldn’t she see he was trying to lull Major into something that would normally cause anxiety within an animal? “There’s no way you—”
    “We have it covered. He’ll put goggles on the harnesses,” Brenna answered with reassurance, taking away the need for Mason to answer. Tank and the guys had said on more than one occasion that he was an ass to work with. He didn’t see it that way. There was a task to do and it didn’t involve pleasantries or explanations. “Seriously, we appreciate your concern, but we need to make sure his folks are okay. You guys should get going and don’t stop until either the engine quits or you actually make it somewhere safe. Guard what you have. Others will take advantage if you give them half a chance.”
    Mason ignored the rest of the conversation between the people behind him as he focused on harnessing Major in this makeshift mask. This was the easy part because the horses were used to harnesses. The difficult part would be trying to rig the heavy loads of equipment behind the saddles evenly and balancing the load. He heard the engine roar to life behind him, the other man and woman having pushed the trailer out of the way. They shoved it into an old equipment stall. Tim backed the truck out, having already opened the barn door. Mason never once took his attention off of Major.
    “You could have at least said goodbye,” Brenna admonished, coming up beside him after she’d closed the entrance. She rested a gentle hand on Major’s side. “They were good people who were worried about us.”
    “I gave them some supplies, the truck, and told them we’d be fine.” Mason had finally attached the first makeshift harness to Major, who was tolerating it well. Now came the hard task of fitting the plastic lenses over his eyes and lashing them securely. “Hand me the ski goggles and those two strands of thin leather.”
    Brenna muttered something about being socially inept, but Mason didn’t rise to the bait. He’d heard that enough times from Berke and Mav. Owen and Van liked him well enough and they’d come to just stay away when he was working on something. She would learn to do the same…let him be to finish the task at hand.
    “Are you in pain?” Brenna asked, handing over the items Mason had requested. He stiffened at her question, wondering why she would think something like that, regardless of the fact that it was the truth. “I have ibuprofen in my bag.”
    Mason kept working while comforting Major with meaningless words. The wounds on the left side of his body had been from shrapnel and burns after…well, he purposefully didn’t think about that time in his life. The physical and emotional scars remained and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He was lucky that all he suffered was third-degree burns when those he’d tried his damnedest to save didn’t make it out alive.
    “It’s nothing I can change now,” Mason countered, concentrating on calming Major down now that goggles were covering his eyes. He’d already fastened the rope through the holes on either side of the plastic, looping it up and over the pliable rubber and foam cushion. It didn’t seal completely against the horsehair, but that was probably for the best. It was doubtful any ash would make its way inside. “Hold this.”
    Brenna was watching Mason carefully, as if she didn’t quite believe he was fine. Well, that was all she was going to get in the way of an explanation. The old wounds where the shrapnel had decorated his left side had done the most damage. He still got the occasional sharp pains where the metal had ripped the muscle tissue in his outer leg, shoulder blade, and arm. His side had been pretty well protected with the vest he’d been wearing. The flashing