The Construction of Cheer - Liz Isaacson Page 0,17
malicious feelings would leave.
God granted her a miracle, because she suddenly no longer felt envious of Micah and his business success she’d spent many hours wishing was hers.
“We have to go help them,” she said.
“I’m getting the retardant we have,” he said. “Wade Rhinehart next door has a drone. We can drop it from above.” Bishop flew into action then, and it was all Montana could do to keep up with him.
She could pray while she lugged a bag of fire deterrent, so she did that, hoping the Walkers wouldn’t suffer too much damage to their ranch, their animals, or their homes.
Chapter Five
Bishop pulled up to the pile of trucks parked right in the middle of the highway leading into Three Rivers, his heartbeat bouncing through his veins. “They closed the road,” he said, stating the obvious.
“That’s because that fire is gonna jump any second,” Montana said. She didn’t unbuckle her seatbelt the way Bishop did.
About a hundred yards down the road, all three of Three Rivers’s fire engines had been parked there, lights flashing and hoses out.
“They’re not getting that out in the next few minutes,” Montana said.
“It’s grown,” Bishop said.
“Things shouldn’t be terribly dry,” Montana said as Bishop opened his door. “I don’t get it.”
“Probably tons of dead grass underneath the new growth,” he said, heat licking his face from the fire despite his distance from it. The scent of ash and smoke filled his nose, and he choked and coughed. “You should stay in here.”
“I will, unless you need help,” Montana said.
This was not the way he’d imagined their evening would go, but he couldn’t turn his back on friends—good friends—because he’d been hoping to ask a pretty blonde on a real dinner date. Tonight, they’d barely sat down to eat before Ward had called. His stomach was unhappy with only green beans for dinner, that was for sure.
He hadn’t even gotten out the contract he needed to go over with her, but he supposed that made tonight less professional, and he wondered if maybe he had been on a date for twenty minutes before Ward’s phone call.
He lowered the tailgate as Wade Rhinehart pulled up in his truck. His sons spilled out of the truck without much delay, including Zona’s boyfriend, Duke. They all moved to the back of the truck too, and Bishop hefted a bag of fire retardant onto his shoulder and took it over to them.
Wade poured it into the drone’s bucket, and he used a giant remote control to get the drone off the ground. “What do you think? The road?”
“If it jumps the road, it can come up the hill,” Bishop said. Shiloh Ridge and Hidden Hill—the Rhinehart’s place—were up in those hills. A few minutes down the road, a couple of lanes of homes sat on that side of the road.
“We need to keep it on this side,” Wade said. “I feel bad, because I’m sure the Walkers would like it to leave their land.” He looked at Bishop, concern in his eyes.
Bishop wasn’t going to consult the man. He was thirty years his senior, and Wade could make his own decisions. Before he could get the drone dropping any retardant, shouts filled the air, and one of the fire engines honked its horn, the sound nearly deafening.
Bishop spun to see flames shooting into the air, ash raining from the sky.
“Holy cow,” he said, his heart pounding now. He shouldn’t be here at all. There was nothing he could do to stop this, or even to help the Walkers.
He looked east, hoping they hadn’t lost homes or barns or animals. A man came over a fence, and Bishop started toward Jeremiah. The man looked utterly exhausted, and he had dirt and soot on his face and clothes.
More shouts filled the air, and Bishop heard, “It’s on the other side!”
He couldn’t help looking, but his attention turned back to Jeremiah quickly, especially when he stepped to his side. “What happened?” Bishop asked.
“It’s our fault,” Jeremiah said. “I wish I could say it was lightning or a truck with a dragging chain.” He sighed and took off his cowboy hat. His hair was remarkably clean as he ran his hand through it. “But we were working on a tractor out in a field, and the welder sparked. That caught the grass on fire, and it grew like, well, like wildfire.”
He hung his head, and Bishop wanted to tell him stuff like this happened all the time.