Chapter 7

They had an audience.

"Who are all these people?" Emily asked Indigo as she outlined her burn prevention plan. Three men stood at the edge of the set wearing suits, one in cowboy boots, their hands in the pockets of their dress pants, mouths pursed, eyes watching the set behind their aviator sunglasses.

She and Indigo stood in front of the barn. An old, weathered barn that was more tinder than structure. One wrong spark and the entire thing would be an inferno.

"Investors. And an insurance man. The production company heard about the house fire and are concerned."

"No one is going to burn to death on my watch."

Indigo looked at her, gave a half smile. "You do look the part today. You're very geared up. Helmet, scarf, water bottle, ax?—"

"Pulaski."

"What's in the leg pocket?"

"Fire shelter. We have to carry one at all times."

"Maybe having you and your team on set will calm down the money. Get your team in place—we'll shoot as soon as Swen is ready."

Emily walked to the back of the barn and waved to Swen. "The barn is hosed down!"

He and his team had spent most of the day setting up the propane tanks and hoses that led to the drums that would ignite the fire in front of the barn doors. The effect would be spectacular if it went off the way he'd shown it to her on the animated mock-up.

And, Swen hadn't given her any guff about hauling in her team to stand by. Nor wetting down the barn and hay and straw inside the building. Not with the fire index in the area high, a slight wind bullying its way into the valley.

"Where do you want us?" Houston James asked. He and Dakota had arrived this morning, had watched as Bucky ran his scene inside the barn, then outside as Hawk ran in and saved him.

She just about had to sit on her heart, stop it from weeping when he set Dusty down—who was doing a superb job of crying—and looked him in the eyes and told him not to be afraid. All while covered in soot and grime, and definitely the guy she wanted to run to in a fire, or really anywhere, to save her. Maybe don't lose your heart to him.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Oh, she was pitiful.

He even came over to her afterwards, pushed his hat up with one finger and said, "I talked Cosmos into adding that line about not being afraid. Felt like it gave Hawk more humanity. But now…I don't know."

"It was great." Never mind the girl melting into a puddle at your feet. "I think it works."

Now who was the actor?

Next, they'd film the scene where they fired the barn, and while Deacon Cooper comforted Blossom, Hawken Cooper, aka a stuntman, ran inside to save Dusty (who wasn't there.) And, of course, back out.

All while not burning to death. No problem.

At least that was her goal.

"I need you in the back of the barn, ready to put out any sparks that might ignite outside the window," she said now to Houston. "Dakota, you're on the other side."

She'd put Charlie and Orion on the hose in front of the barn, just a few feet away from the camera, close enough to douse the fire if it should spark any grass, although she'd had the crew cut a line in front of the barn too.

Not that she was in charge—Conner had driven up in his truck with the team, briefed them all, then headed back to town to chase down a spot fire with the Trouble Boys and the rest of the team. Apparently, something had started up by the hospital in Snowhaven. But he'd handed her the reins and gone over the goal with them.

No fires, everybody stays alive.

She gave Conner two thumbs up.

Now, she parked herself at the back of the barn, out of site of the cameras, watching the scene through a partially open door in the back of the barn.

If anything happened, she could get inside, put it out with her fire extinguisher.

"Ready with special effects?" Indigo raised her voice at the front of the barn. Through the open door, and the space, Emily watched her raise her hand, ready to call for quiet. She liked Indigo. With her dark hair and golden-brown eyes, she could command the set with a look, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

Emily drew in a breath. She nodded, even though Indigo wasn't talking to her.

"Roll camera."

A beat. "Roll sound."

Indigo looked at Cosmos, then, "Action."

The eruption of the fire drums reverberated through the entire barn, shaking it, and the flames erupted with a whoosh, blazing up and out of the front doors.

"He's in there! My son is in there!" Blossom ran toward the barn.

Hawken grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back. "I got him! I got him!"

He then launched himself at the fire, flinging open the doors.

The oxygen turned the fire to an inferno, and he flung up his hands, fell back.

Suddenly a stuntman ran straight into the fire. The two fire barrels spat out black smoke, and he covered his face, picked up the dummy off the floor inside the barn, clad in all green, then threw the dummy over his shoulder and rushed back out.

The front doors closed, and just like that, the scene was over.

Now, the fire cannons were supposed to die, but even through the smoke, she could see that the fire still blazed. Sparks fell, the upper levels of straw igniting, falling to earth like the spray of a volcano.

"Turn it off, Swen!" she shouted, and glanced behind her. Swen held the radio switch, depressing it?—

The blaze had caught on some of the wooden stalls.

Her turn. "Houston and Dakota—watch for spots. Charlie, the hose!"

She glanced back, and Charlie held the hose while Orion ran for the truck.

A nearby stack of straw sizzled, drying fast under the flames. The place wasn't an inferno, but give it a few minutes.

"I'm going in!" She slid through the door, not wanting to add any more oxygen to the barn. Smoke roiled against the ceiling, and she pulled up her handkerchief even as she sprayed the foam over the fire, stamping it out in spots. Then she hit the stable walls and pointed the container at the ceiling.

The flames sizzled and died under her onslaught, but even as she found more sparks and doused them, the flames from the barrels grew, licking the eaves. More sparks fell.

Get out.

The thought pulsed inside her as her canister died, the last of the foam spraying out. She grabbed her Pulaski and dragged some straw, now on fire, into the dirt and stomped it out. C'mon, Swen! Certainly, the propane tank would have run out of fuel by now.

Outside, shouts lifted, and she looked up to see the hay now catching, flames creeping across the ceiling.

Get. Out!

Yes. She turned and headed for the door in the back. Except, just as she turned, sparks from the ceiling, where the fire had crawled across the beam, fell. Ignited the hay bales by the door.

It whooshed into flames.

She skidded to a stop, fell back into the dirt. Flames licked out, igniting more straw—the place would be an inferno in seconds.

Get. Out!

Sound mind. Give me a sound mind!

She turned and looked at the barrels, still spitting out fire. They sat ten feet from each other, a wide enough corridor to the door, if they weren't overflowing with fire.

Except, they stood at least three feet tall.

She could go under them, out the front doors.

Emily hit her knees, began to army crawl, her Pulaski in front of her, her helmet over her head, flames dropping around her.

And then, suddenly, the door opened, and a form appeared through the darkness, a man dressed in fire-retardant stunt gear. He dropped to his knees in front of her.

She looked up.

Spenser?

He wore a hood over his head and goggles, but she'd recognize that jawline anywhere.

"Let's get out of here!"

"The fire is too hot! We have to crawl!"

He dropped next to her, his arm over her. "Let's go!"

Wan light spilled in, as the fire was sucked out. But the oxygen had only ignited the entire barn.

It flamed around them.

One of the barrels lurched, fell over.

And then, just like that, they were trapped, Shadrach and Meshach, bombs of straw and hay sparking around them, falling like droplets.

Her shelter. She rolled and grabbed it out of her leg pocket. Stood up.

"What are you doing?"

"Stay down!" Then even as the fire raged around her in a swirl of heat and fury, she shook out the shelter. She stepped on the corners with her feet, held the others with her hands, spread eagle.

Then she fell over him, hitting her knees. "Get your foot in my corner, your hand here, and hold it to the ground!"

The barn floor was dirt, and it was wet, so that helped. Spenser shoved his boot into the bottom corner, put his hand over hers in the upper corner. She let go and grubbed out a hole in the dirt for herself, then for him because he put his arm over her and held down the other corner too. His leg was over hers, and in a second, she realized he'd put himself almost on top of her.

"Put your mouth in the hole and breathe only that air!" She put her head down, face in the hole. Next to her, Spenser did the same.

She started to breathe in. Out. Counting. In for four, out for seven. In for four, out for seven.

And around them, the barn turned into a furnace.

* * *

He ran into the inferno without thinking really.

Without any rational thought because—Emily was in there!

Spenser had spotted her bright yellow shirt amidst the black smoke, just a wink of it as the fire partially cleared with the efforts of her fire extinguisher.

Then the fire barrels practically detonated, and with them, the impulse to save her.

He wasn't the only one with that reflex—Winchester started running toward the barn a second before it exploded and was jerked off his feet, into the dirt, coughing.

Spenser spotted an extra CarbonX fire-retardant suit before the shoot, and instinct made him grab it and pull it on. He threw up the hood, pulled on goggles and gloves, and even as Cosmos yelled after him, Spenser headed right into the fire.

It wasn't his first go-round with fire, thank you. He'd even done his own stunts after he turned eighteen on Trek of the Osprey.

A few had included fire.

Still, the heat swept over him, a sweat breaking down his spine as he cleared the barrels. Ten feet further, he'd spotted her, on the ground.

His plan turned to a fireball as the entire structure ignited. It shook the barn, rained down heated bullets of straw and hay.

Sheesh, he knew this was a bad idea—he'd felt it in his gut all day. He'd been in the business long enough to listen to said gut. He should have said something. But he'd already caused enough trouble with yet another addition to the script.

He grabbed Emily and forced her down, his brain void of options.

Not Emily's, though.

Wow, that was quick thinking with the fire shelter?—more like a shiny blanket over the top of them—and there was no way she wasn't turning crispy inside this shake and bake, so he climbed almost over her, helping her hold down the shelter.

"Breathe into the hole!"

Right. The flames roared over him, and he pushed his mouth into the hole that she'd dug.

Breathed.

She was so terribly calm, breathing steadily, and he matched his breaths with the rhythm of her body.

The fire raged around them, the barn in complete chaos, flames washing over them like the sea. The heat seared his back, his legs, his gloves. He closed his eyes.

Breathed.

Shouts rose in the distance but pierced the thunder of the flames. The voices of her team, maybe.

Please, hurry. Don't let the roof fall.

He hiccupped a breath.

"With me, Spense. Breathe."

Right.

Molten droplets fell on the shelter, even as the flames hissed. Sweat bathed him, his entire body sticky and baking in his suit.

Then, water hit the flames, and the heat began to sizzle, rain pattering on their shelter. Something fell with a crash—maybe a wall, and he froze.

Beneath him, she made a tiny sound, maybe a whimper.

"You okay?" he whispered next to her helmet.

"Yeah. Keep breathing. They're fighting the fire."

He probably imagined the whimper.

He shoved his mouth back into the hole, kept breathing the cooler air there— earthy, maybe a little rank.

Then, just like that, the heat lessened. Then lifted.

Water showered over them, a rainstorm of life. More shouts. He made to move, but she grabbed the front of his jumpsuit with her hand and tucked under his body.

"Stay down. The air is still superheated," she rasped.

"I'm not going anywhere." He settled back over her, the fire dying to a hiss around him.

She lifted her head, turned, met his eyes. Solid, so blue. He was just lost in them for a moment.

"Cosmos is going to murder you," she whispered.

"Probably."

"You shouldn't have run in here."

"Ditto."

"It's my job."

"I'm going to ask Cosmos to fire you. Again."

She narrowed her eyes, her mouth tight.

And shoot, he couldn't help it. He just leaned in and kissed her. Something quick and hot, deep and maybe a little possessive, but all in, his mouth tasting, taking, wanting.

Because this moment, right now, right here, felt as real and honest as he'd ever been. Her, in his arms. Well, not exactly in his arms, but connected, her body tangled with his in this pocket where they'd survived.

And maybe she felt it too, the desperation, if not the connection, because she kissed him back. It took a second, but then she was right there, responding, giving, keeping up with him.

Not even remotely like a movie kiss.

He tucked his knee around her hip, wanting to move her closer, to deepen the kiss when?—

"Emily!"

A man's voice. She broke away, met Spenser's eyes with what looked like—what, panic—? and then she swallowed and— "Uncle Conner! I'm okay! We're okay!"

The shelter peeled off them like a blanket, and she scooted away from Spenser even as he got to his knees.

He looked up to see a man—her boss, he thought, because it was the same man as the first day—pull her up and into his arms.

"Wow, you scared me!" He lifted her from the shelter, put her down a few feet away, then scanned her entire body as Spenser got up.

"Sorry, Commander. I thought I could put it out?—"

"You okay?" The commander turned to Spenser then, his face streaked with sweat, black and dirt under his orange helmet. His eyes were red, maybe with smoke, maybe with fury.

"Yeah."

Conner let her go then backed away, breathing hard.

Around them, the fire still burned, water saturating the charred beams of the barn. Spenser spotted a couple men with a fire hose inside the barn, another two on a hose that shot in water from the back. A small army sprayed down the barn with fire retardant. A few of the special effects crew also held canisters.

"You are so fortunate you aren't under a pile of ash right now," the commander said. "As soon as the fire is out, get out of here!" he said to the crew. "We don't need the roof coming down on us."

Then the commander took Emily by the arm and directed her out the front door, past the burned and deformed barrels.

"What…happened?" Emily said as soon as they cleared the building. She shrugged out of his grip, bent over, clutching her knees, coughing.

"The special effects guy couldn't get the propane turned off," the commander said. "It was jammed at the source. We finally disconnected it—but it was nearly run dry by then."

"I thought you were with the Trouble Boys."

"Yes, I was, but they had everything under control, so I decided to double back. Good thing I did. Of course it was super fun seeing you turning to a crisp in there. Don't think I'll put that on the report."

She gave a weak laugh, so maybe that was good.

Spenser had also bent over, taking off his goggles, coughing a little.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Oh, this one was for him. Spenser lifted a hand to Cosmos, who charged toward him as he stood up. "You could have been killed."

"Wow, Spenser, that was really brave." Kathryn came running up, tears streaking down her face. She pulled him into an embrace. "You scared everybody!"

Oh. Huh. She held on a little longer than he'd expected.

Then, she let him go, grabbed his face, and gave him a kiss. Just a peck, but even he blinked at her as she pulled away. "Don't do that again!"

Right.

Emily was watching him.

The air was soggy and hot, the set smelling of campfire. More shouts as the hotshots and crew moved equipment away from the fire.

Winchester sat on the edge of the set, an oxygen mask to his mouth, the set medic taking his blood pressure.

He unzipped the jumpsuit as Cosmos stood there, still shaking his head. "Who do you think you are, a stuntman?"

"No, I just—I saw her in there?—"

"That's not your job!"

"Well maybe it should be! I can ride a horse better than half the stunt guys here. And I can rope, and I can fight, and maybe I'd be better doing stunts than delivering sixteen lines and smiling into the camera!"

"Twenty-four."

A beat.

"Twenty-four."

"Listen. I know you did your own stunts at Trek, but this isn't in a studio with wires and mats. You could get seriously hurt. You're not your dad, Spenser. You're an actor, a well-paid one at that, and I'd like to keep you alive all the way to the end of the movie, and maybe even the promotional tour, okay?"

Spenser's jaw tightened.

Cosmos sighed. Looked at Emily. "Are you okay?"

She nodded.

"Good. Then, you," he pointed to Spenser. "And you," Swen, "Come with me."

Spenser wanted to say no. To grab Emily and pull her somewhere safe, away from the chaos and the trouble and the eyes and…

And kiss her again. See if her response was real and not just induced by…well the fact they'd nearly died together.

He looked at her, but she was engaged in her own argument with her boss.

Fine. Later. He caught up to Cosmos and followed him to his trailer.

Cosmos held the door open while Spenser climbed the stairs, followed by Swen.

Then he went inside. Closed the door. Took a long breath and turned. A muscle in his jaw pulsed. If it hadn't been for his words earlier, Spenser might have thought he was getting fired.

"Sit down, gentleman. We have a situation we need to discuss."

Spenser sat on the sofa attached to the wall. Swen folded his arms, standing by the door.

"Every movie set has a few accidents. It's not uncommon to have injuries because of people falling or preparing cables or even getting hurt from some sort of stunt. Ever since the first accident with the house chimney falling, something's not sat right in my gut. And it's not the catering. Then Kathryn's dress caught on fire, and now the barn…something is rotten in the state of Denmark. I had Kathryn's dress sent to a forensic pathologist—there was accelerant on the cloth. And probably on the curtains to the house, the way they went up."

Spenser stared at him, his mouth opening.

"We'll need to investigate what happened today, but I think…" He swallowed, made a face, shook his head. "I think we are being sabotaged."

Swen unfolded his arms. "What? By whom?"

"I don't know." He looked at Swen. "I want you to vet your team."

"I know every single one of them," he said. "We've worked together for years."

"What about props and set design?" said Win.

"Yes, I'll talk to the set designer and ask her about her crew."

"But it could be anyone with the script and opportunity," said Spenser. "A stuntman, sound, a gaffer, even a grip. Or someone we haven't even thought of."

Silence.

Cosmos nodded, then ran a hand behind his neck. "We have a week left of shooting. I don't want to have to take this back to the lot—we'd have to reserve space, and we're so close to the end. We just have the town shots and the final shootout at the Irish ranch house after Kathryn is kidnapped. Just keep your eyes open."

"We have a break in the filming tomorrow. Emily and I can ride out to the house tomorrow and do a safety check on it," Spenser said.

Cosmos' mouth tightened. "Fine. But please, don't do anything…crazy."

"Me?" Spenser grinned, already looking out the window for Emily. "Never."