Free Sweetwater by Dorothy Garlock

Five
    Trell saw the cloud of smoke as he neared the Whitaker ranch. Borne on a light breeze, the acrid scent stung his nostrils. It was far too much smoke to be coming from a chimney. He put his heels to the roan, and the horse’s long stride ate up the distance to a rise where he could see the flames. The fire was in an open area north of the house and was so far confined to grass and the brush edging it.
    He saw little flames lick across another expanse of grass and into the brush, then run up a small tree like hungry red tongues. The fire was out of hand and racing toward the ranch house. At his urging, the roan jumped a small stream, sped along a pole corral, and skidded to a stop behind a woman beating at the flames with a blanket. A small girl staggered from the stream carrying a bucket of water.
    Trell leaped from his horse and grabbed the blanket from the woman’s hand.
    “Use your feet on the small patches,” he shouted. “Keep upwind from the flames. Watch out for the girl and stay away from the heavy smoke.”
    Jenny beat at the larger flames with the grain sack Cassandra had dropped when she rushed to fetch the water. Jenny held up her skirts and stamped out the small ones with her feet. Like red-and-gold dancers the flames raced back and forth, edging closer and closer to the house. With a swish of the sack she beat them back.
    No! You will not get to my house!
    Tears streamed down her face from the smoke and blurred her vision. The heat seared her throat. She did not know who the man was who had come to her aid, nor did she care. She was exceedingly grateful he was there. When the flames engulfed a bush, she circled behind it, flailing the grass with the sack to keep the fire from spreading. Jenny worked strictly on instinct while the sweat rolled down her face and her hands became locked onto the end of the sack. It was an exhausting effort.
    Cassandra carried bucket after bucket of water from the stream. Jenny dropped the sack in the water to wet it and poured the rest on the flames. She had no time to think of her parched throat, or her heat-flushed face. Her arms felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds each. As fast as one patch was stamped out, another seemed to flare into being. She worked as if her life depended on it, and gradually they began to win against the flames.
    When it was over, they stood smoke-grimed and red-eyed in the blackened section.
    “Well, we did it.” Trell grinned at Jenny. His face was smudged by smoke and his head wet with sweat.
    “I’m Jenny Gray. I’m so glad you came.” Jenny dropped the sack and extended her hand.
    “Trellis McCall. Glad to know you.” He shook her hand firmly.
    “I could use a drink of water. How about you? Oh, this is my sister, Cassandra. Honey, I’m so proud of you!” She hugged the girl. “Are you all right?”
    “I expect so. I haven’t decided yet. I’m sorry, Virginia. I didn’t realize that there were embers in the ashes when I dumped them.”
    “It’s all right. We’re learning, aren’t we? It was a lesson we won’t forget. One that turned out all right thanks to Mr. McCall. Where’s Beatrice?”
    “In the house. I threatened to give her a good whipping if she came out.”
    “You did … what?”
    “I merely threatened. I wouldn’t have, but she didn’t know that. It kept her out of the way.” Cassandra tilted her head and looked up at Trell. “Do you have a job, Mr. McCall? If not, we have need of a man to work here.”
    Trell’s amused eyes went from the child, who spoke like a grown-up, to her sister.
    “You’ll discover, if you get to know Cassandra, that she comes right out with what’s on her mind.”
    “I thank you for the offer, miss, but I have a horse ranch across the river that demands more time than I have to give it.”
    “Well.” Cassandra’s shoulders slumped. “It did no harm to ask.”
    “Will your horse wander off?” Jenny asked as they walked toward the house.
    “No, ma’am. He’s