voice say those words. Those beautiful, healing words. He would stand over me to protect me, letting my rest my head on his shoulders. The wind would blow around us and the sun would set and we would still be there together.

My world was shattered when he spoke.

"I am not interested in you, Jade."

I just stood there. It hurt. My eyes stung and my brain was numb. He was telling me that he didn't care about me at all, not even as a friend. I didn't expect him to love me back, but I still hoped. And now that hope was crushed, as each word sliced at my heartstrings, a verbal razor.

"I pitied you. I felt guilty for being hostile toward you when we first met. It was nice to spend time with you but I played you along. It was never going anywhere. Being with you has made me a laughing stock in front of the other horses. I have been bettered by a wild born horse. It is disgraceful to my name. That is why I ask you to leave me alone from now on."

I couldn't look at him. He didn't have to be so harsh with his words. Letting me down gently would be a better way to tell me that he didn't feel the same way. And how did he know that I liked him? Was it really that obvious? The worst part was that we both had to live in close quarters to each other even though we had had words. I turned and walked into the corner opposite to his. I was alone again. No Harry, Tammy, Tony and now no Durango.

Only one thing remained in my mind - escape.

When night fell there was a sudden chill in the air. The stable boys came to collect us, and I hid in the corner until Durango was taken away, then I allowed myself to be caught. The rope was removed in the stable and I walked a few paces into my own separate corner. My life would be like this for the foreseeable future, just walking away. Nothing good would come out of it, other than proving to Durango that I could respect his feelings, even if he couldn't respect mine.

I never looked at him. I have no idea if he watched me or grumped. My mind did summersaults and I felt ill with anxiety, anger and sorrow. I believe that for the first time ever, I cried myself to sleep.

Private Jones knew something was wrong. He could just sense it. The past few weeks had been like that. First the attack, then the loss of the horses in a battle, the supplies were stolen, Tony had been killed and now something else was afoot. He tensed, breathing in deeply. He was probing for the danger.

He was a simple farm lad, born and raised on a ranch. His father grew crops and used horses to plough and scout. The ironic thing was that his father praised their two horses for their strength, speed and stamina, claiming they were God's finest creation. Yet he carried a double barrelled gun for shooting mustangs that were stubborn enough the feed on their crops.

Timothy Jones had always been around horses, but they scared him. He used to be - he still was - slight in build and not the tallest of people. Horses were massive and he knew how they would inflict injuries. His uncle got his foot crushed by a horse once, even though his uncle claimed they were "gentle giants". Timothy never wanted to risk it.

He didn't the animals, he was just wary. He joined the army to fight for his land and make a future for himself, but in a way that he didn't have to farm. And now he was around horses at all times. Also ironic.

There was a faint glow from the hay barn. He neared the building, lantern held above his face for whatever light he could grasp.

Then he smelt it.

Smoke.

He investigated further before sounding the alarm. Sure enough, a lantern had been knocked over and left, presumably setting the hay alight. A light breeze drifted through the air and Private Jones hoped that it would blow out the single flame.

Cruel fate had a different idea.

The breeze was too slight and too gentle to blow it out. Instead, it fed the fire, causing it to suddenly spread at an alarming rate. Timothy ran and rang the alarm bell. "Fire!" he shouted, praying that everyone woke up "Fire!"

In seconds the yard was filled with soldiers carrying buckets of water from the well to the hay barn. But alas, the dry weather had run the supplies low, and they quickly ran out. But the inferno was still burning strong, and growing. The colonel emerged, and ordered everyone to unbolt the stable doors. The horses were awake now, rearing, kicking, biting, squealing, pleading for rescue. The doors were flung open and Jones went to get Durango from the colonel's stall.

The boy hesitated. The stallion was rearing and snapping wildly. He had heard a story of how he had been in a fire as a colt. Surely this horse was more scared than he was, and he had to help it.

And still-

As the flames drew nearer he had no choice. Timothy seized the halter on the stallion and all but dragged him out of the hut. The horse took flight and ran through the giant double doors through which the entire stables was running. The boy went after him, stumbling and choking as he went. Already the air was filled with sooty smoke and scorching embers.

Durango skidded to a halt and asked around to check that all the horses were there. He sighed with relief and half laughed to Jade that that was a close one.

Except Jade wasn't there.

Durango endured a moment of panic. He thought that she was right behind him and had been let out from the stall. He checked again, and again. But she wasn't there. Now the men were holding the horses by the halters to calm them. Fundro went for him, but he raised his head high to avoid the man's grip. Then he sprinted to the gates.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

Images flashed through his mind. The fire, his mother calling him through the choking air, the shrill cries of his friend that was trapped at the back of the barn. He could remember the filly calling his name, begging for him to save her, but he couldn't. He simply couldn't. The fire was stronger than him and would take anyone on and win. He had felt the flames lick at him and smelt it's foul odour. It would let him in, then cut off his retreat leaving him trapped whilst the scorching flames chewed nearer, and nearer...

But something more powerful than fear took over him. Part of the fence above the gate gave way, and fell to the ground in a pile of charcoal and embers. Durango leapt the logs as the flames began to consume them once more. He was inside. He headed for the hut where Jade was - he hoped - still sleeping.

I don't remember much from that night. First I smelt it, then I heard the crackling growing louder. I eventually opened my eyes to have them stung by the sheer dryness of the air. Everywhere was read or yellow as it basked in the hot glow of the blaze. I realised what was happening and was sent into a wild hysteria. The door was open but the flames were to close for me to pass without pain. If I was calm I would have taken that chance, but my mind was locked from thought and I only knew fear. I began to whinny for help. Surely someone would hear me.

Suddenly one of the beams collapsed, striking me and pushing me to the ground. I shrugged the debris off but found I couldn't stand. There was a nonstop pain in my side where the heavy wood had all but crushed me. My lungs hurt as they filled with the ash and I could no longer breathe properly.

I was going to die.

I was going to die, burn to death, alone, friendless and miles from home. Any friends that I had made were torn away from me, and those who could stay didn't love me. Durango was probably out there now with the rest of the camp, not even thinking of me. And he would never have to again. And just like Tony, he would show no emotion when he heard I was gone.

As I closed my eyes to let the flare devour me, slipping into an uneasy blackness, I heard something other than the distinctive snapping of the fire. It took me a moment to work it out. It was hoof beats. They stopped. I opened my watering eyes to try and make sense of it all. I must have looked a pathetic being to the creature that loomed over me. I closed my eyes again. I felt the rapid breath on my face, and then a feather like whisper in my ear.

"I love you, Jade."

Those four words gave me strength. Before I knew it I had staggered to my feet and began to trot out into the yard, my hero helping me the whole time and giving me support and directions. The fence was beginning to moan and sway. I knew it wouldn't last many other seconds, and we would be crushed and buried beneath it. I forced my bruised legs into a gallop, but only managed a canter. My savoir could have galloped on ahead and saved his own life, but he stayed level with me the whole time. Finally, with a deathening creak and squeal the fence buckled and smashed into the ground, completely destroying the base camp. At the last possible moment we bounded over the burning logs to safety.

We were greeted by a parade of both horses and humans. They had thought us lost. I smiled and was greeted by the other animals, then I crumpled to the floor.

Horses ran through soft grass that reached up to stroke their bellies, and the herd twisted and turned trough it, like schools of fish, their colours shining from the moonlight. Dapple greys, chestnuts, bays, buckskins, palominos, swekbalds, piebalds, they all galloped in unison, trampling the grass to stamp down the grasping fingers. One by one, they all dropped away from the group and stood still. High above, an eagle watched, viewing the pattern that had appeared. It was almost a mirror image to that majestic bird: a bald eagle, wings spread wide, as if trying to touch something beyond reality. As the wind picked up, and the grass blew gently, it appeared to be flying.

I