He rubbed her muzzle, knowing that her soft utterance wasn’t for him or for joy at the fresh, clean air in her nostrils. No, it was for her son, who had been placed on the grass beside the road and was now the center of her attention.

Mr. Ramsay was looking back at the fire. “Oh, Alec,” he said in a forlorn wail.

But Alec did not turn and look back. There was nothing anyone could do. Nobody could save a barn full of hay and straw once it started to go. The small water pump and hose which some of the hired men already had hooked up to the adjacent field pond were of little use. So was the fire engine which he could hear coming down the country road. All the pastured horses were safe, but the barn which he and Henry and his father had had built with such pride would be completely destroyed. He did not want to look upon the horror of its burning. Instead he watched the start of a new life.

There were new trials to be watched, too, for the colt was attempting once again to make his forelegs behave. There, there, he had them in place. Eager and strong in his confidence he pulled up his hind legs until they too were where they should be. Then he stood in all his freshly won glory, his eyes bright and seeking, his sharp-ribbed body teetering on stilted legs.

“He’s made it, Dad,” Alec said, “all by himself.”

There was no comment from Mr. Ramsay.

Miz Liz tugged on the lead shank and Alec let her go to her son, watching as she licked him with all the care and tenderness that he’d been missing. It didn’t matter that his red, furry coat was perfectly dry, even singed in spots. No, what was important was the reassurance that she was giving him. At last he knew that he was loved and wanted.

Out of the darkness came the close scream of the fire engine. Alec heard his father say bitterly, “Even when I called them, I knew it was too late.”

“They can keep it from spreading,” Alec said.

“Nothing to spread to,” his father answered. “There’s no wind to carry the sparks. The other barns are far enough away.”

“I was thinking of the trees,” Alec said while he steadied the colt, holding him close to the mare. “You’d better eat,” he told the colt. “You’ve waited a long time.”

Only when the colt finally was nursing did Alec turn and look at the fire. His eyes became blurred as he gazed upon the blinding spectacle of white and golden fury. Too late even to save the bordering trees, he saw. But they hadn’t lost a single horse—not even Miz Liz’s colt.

He heard the Black’s blasting, repeated whistles but he did not turn toward the far paddock. His eyes were fastened on the sweeping, golden brightness that reached ever higher into the sky. All they’d lost was a barn—their biggest and best barn, but only a barn. Cost? About one hundred thousand dollars and uninsured. A total loss.