“Got enough for school now?”
She couldn’t resist the smile that surged up from inside. “Thanks to your encouragement, yes.”
“Your mother and I are so proud. You know that, right?” He reached over and patted her leg. “God hasn’t given you an easy path to walk, but you’ve taken every step with your head held high.”
“There may still be twists and turns ahead, I imagine.”
He chuckled. “You can count on it.”
They pulled up to the trailhead and parked next to the two CCC vehicles. The yellow trucks with the letters on the side brought back memories of her trip to Old Faithful with the boys. She needed to arrange another outing before summer was out. It would be tough to get an additional Saturday off, but maybe they could do an evening jaunt to the Firehole River.
She climbed out and waited as her father got his pack settled over his shoulders. In the distance, an automobile sat beside the highway, parked in the shade of the trees. Two figures were inside. “Do you think they have a flat tire?”
Her father came up beside her. “I noticed the car on the way in. A young couple…” He cleared his throat. “Probably doing what couples do—canoodling or spooning, or whatever you young folks call it these days. They’re not waving to us, so I don’t expect they’re looking for company.”
“Papa!” Elsie laughed. “Canoodling? Honestly.” She glanced back toward the vehicle. It did seem familiar. Was it the little Buick coupe that belonged to Charlie, the desk clerk at Canyon? He sometimes loaned it to the other boys for dates. Perhaps her father was right.
“If it’s still there when we’re done, I’ll go talk to them.”
They turned toward the mountain trail and followed the tracks of the men deep into the forest. Even in the cool shade of the trees, a sweat broke out across Elsie’s forehead within minutes. She pulled off her beret to fan herself and touched her other hand to her neck. The pain always crept in as the weather grew warmer. The doctor didn’t seem to believe that her scars could still ache after more than ten years, but then, he didn’t have to live with them.
Up ahead, the sounds of axes and saws rang out between the trees, giving them a location to shoot for.
He looked over his shoulder at her. “I had my doubts about this crew when they first arrived, but they’ve made good progress. Do you remember how skinny and scared they all looked when they arrived in Gardiner?”
She did remember. Their clothes had been so loose, the men looked like scarecrows without stuffing.
As she and Papa crested the rise, she spotted small groups of workers clustered around trees in the distance. The fellows looked as strong and rugged as any ranger crew. She hadn’t really noticed the progression, but her father was right. They’d filled out, their muscled arms and backs bronzed by the Wyoming sunshine. In fact, muscled arms and backs was all she could see right now. Most of the men worked bare chested, sweat making their tanned skin gleam as they wielded crosscuts and axes.
Several of the crew waved when they spotted her father, their big smiles welcoming. Would Teddy have received such a greeting? Red trotted over. “Ranger Brookes, good to see you.” He nodded to Elsie. “Miss Brookes.”
Her father tipped back his hat, his attention roaming the nearby forest. “You men are doing great work. It won’t be long until this area starts seeing snow, then we’ll have to button it up for the year.”
“Snow?” Red pulled off his hat and ran an arm across his forehead. “It’s sure not feeling like winter now.”
“It will; you watch. One day will be hot, and then the next—snowflakes. Winter seems to come out of nowhere sometimes.”
Elsie fingered her collar, wishing she could unbutton it a notch and let in a little air. “Snow sounds pretty good about now.”
“Where’s your foreman?” her father asked.
Red turned and pointed up the steep bank. “Nate’s scouting up the slope a ways. He found a new stand of beetle-infested trees last week, so he’s up there marking them.”
“That boy has the best eye for spotting diseased trees I’ve seen in a decade.” Father hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “I wish we could keep him on. He’s a natural forester. If he had some schooling, he’d make a fine entomologist.”
Elsie stepped into the shade and lifted a hand to shield her eyes as she searched the woods for Nate’s form.
Red gestured to a group of men working on a tree just beyond them. “Ranger Brookes, would you mind taking a look at one of the saws? I think it might need a new handle.”
Her father followed him, but Elsie wandered off in the direction Red had pointed earlier. Maybe she could catch a glimpse of her fella at work. She hadn’t gone far before she spotted Nate scribbling on a clipboard. He tipped his head back and pressed field glasses to his eyes. Her father was right, Nate looked every bit the forester.
“Who would have thought some guy from Brooklyn would look so at home in the woods?” she called out to him.
He grinned, then clamped the clipboard under his elbow and made his way over to her. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“I’m here with my father. We’re checking up on you, you know.”
Nate darted a glance around the forest, then reached for Elsie and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “I’m a sweaty mess—I hope you don’t mind.”
“You smell like sawdust and pinesap.” She kissed him a second time, lingering for a moment. Good thing he’d kept on his uniform shirt, because standing this close with him bare chested might have been more than she could handle. “Like sawdust and hard work.” She stepped back, swaying a little as he released his grip on her waist.
He squinted at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just so warm.” She fanned her face with her hands. He probably thought she was swooning after the kiss. Maybe she was.
Nate took her hand, stretching out her arm. “You’re wearing long sleeves. Can’t you roll them up?”
“I don’t like anyone to see, you know that.” She tugged her hand away.
“They’re trees, Elsie. And me. Your secret’s safe.”
A fluttering sensation took up residence in her stomach. “I’ll be fine. It’s better if I don’t get sunshine on my skin, anyway.”
“Here.” He fanned the clipboard near her face.
“Ah, that’s nice.” After a moment she said, “What’s this?” She took the clipboard and studied the tablet covered with rough maps and sketches of trees.
“I’m mapping the stand of trees, marking the sick ones. I blaze them with a hatchet, then next year’s crew will come finish what we’ve started. They’re going to bring in twice as many CCCs, plus a big group of local men—see if they can’t get the upper hand in this battle.”
“Next year’s crew,” she repeated the hopeful words. “Will you be back?”
His gaze faltered. “I’m only signed on for the one year. I’m not sure how it works, but I suspect that’s all we get.”
She latched onto his arm, pulling him close to her side. “Don’t say that.” She’d known this all along, but with each day her heart’s cry grew stronger. “If you can’t come back as a CCC, we’ll have to get you hired on as a savage.”
Nate made a face. “Can you really see me as a waiter or a busboy? Carrying luggage for the dudes? Besides, they’re all college students, except for Graham.”
“It just feels so wrong.” She hated the sudden whine in her voice. Whenever the physical pain kicked in, her emotions seemed to tumble into disarray as well. God, surely You brought us together. “It can’t be the Father’s plan for us to just go our separate ways.”
“I don’t know about God, but that seems to be Uncle Sam’s plan.” He lowered his face to the top of her head. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be.”
“What do you mean?”
; He breathed out a long exhale, ruffling her hair with his breath. “I don’t know, but I’ll think of something. I’m not ready to lose you yet.”
* * *
Nate squeezed Elsie tight for a quick moment, then released her. Her skin felt too warm. “Let’s get you into the shade.” He led her a few steps to the trunk of a pine tree. After their brief conversation, she was fighting tears. The sight tore at him.
“The Father’s plan?” He’d believed in an all-powerful God, but he struggled to trust quite the way Elsie seemed to. A loving father wouldn’t leave capable men to beg for a dime on the street in order to feed their children. He wouldn’t let a family’s hope be gunned down in a dark alley. Or burden Elsie with the scars of the past.
But somehow, in spite of heartache, she clung to faith. Nate glanced up toward the treetops, the blue sky showing in cracks between the greenery. Could he find that strength? Help us out here, Lord. Help me find some way to stay in her life.
He reached into his pocket for a distraction. “I…I got another letter from home. Do you mind…?” But it wasn’t there. He patted his other pockets.
“I’d be honored, Nate.”
“I must have left it in my bag in the truck.” He grabbed one of her hands. “Can you wait? I’ll run.”
“It took us forty minutes to climb up here.”
“I know a shortcut. Trust me. I practically know each of these trees by name now. Wait here—or better yet, go back to the main work site. It’s shadier there. I’ll come find you.”
She smiled. “All right. But then we’ll just have to sneak off again.”
He couldn’t fight the grin. She was so beautiful—it bowled him over. “I’ll sneak off with you anytime.” He planted a kiss on her cheek.
He jogged toward the highway, hopping logs and pushing through brush like a squirrel. Maybe it was the need for action in the face of their mutual sadness, but the run made his heart lighter. The clearing he saw ahead must be the roadway, so he veered left to cut over to where the trucks were parked.
The thicket in front of him exploded into motion, a deer launching outward and bolting away.
Nate slid on one heel, landing in the dirt with a thud, his heart hammering in his chest. He stayed still as the animal crashed through the woods, springing on all four legs at once, like a kid on a pogo stick. In a flash, it was down the slope and across the highway.
That could have been a bear. He pushed up on one rubbery knee, smears of dirt caking the side of his work jeans. A mistake like that could get him sent home in pieces. A couple of the guys had surprised a bear in the woods near camp and thankfully lived to tell the tale. In another instance, Moretti had nearly stumbled into a hidden hot spring while hiking around Yellowstone Lake. This place deserved a little more caution than he was giving it.
He untied his bandanna and mopped his face, the heat adding to his shakiness. It’s little wonder Elsie was feeling woozy, what with her shirt buttoned clear to her wrists and throat. He’d rolled his up past his elbows, while the men wielding the tools had stripped their shirts clean off. He’d been told Yellowstone’s temperatures never rose above eighty degrees, but someone had forgotten to inform the sun of that fact.
The wind was picking up, so hopefully that would bring some cooler temperatures. Maybe it would blow in another storm. One with rain this time.
An odd smell wafted in on the breeze, and Nate lifted his head. It smelled like fuel…and smoke.
All thoughts of bears fled his mind as he once again raced toward the highway. He’d be able to see the trucks in a few more—
Whoosh. The sound cut through the quiet afternoon, and Nate stumbled to a stop, struggling against his forward momentum. A curtain of fire covered the small parking area ahead, the side of the truck barely visible through the flames. Blazing tongues whipped upward, the nearby brush igniting within seconds. The trucks.
He moved two steps forward before realizing the wind was driving the flame his direction. Nate lifted a hand to shield his face as the heat and smoke reached him. His thoughts traveled back to that first wildfire he’d faced back in May. Vaughn had warned them fire could rip through a forest faster than a man could escape—especially when it moved uphill. And right now, the forest was drier than the bottom of a cracker barrel.
Nate jerked around and surged up the mountainside at a dead run. Elsie was up there—his crew, and Ranger Brookes too. The blaze was not going to beat him there.
Elsie followed the sounds of chopping and sawing back to the work site. Her father was standing in a small circle of men, turning over a crosscut saw in his hands and pointing at something along the toothed edge. The crew’s respect for him was obvious in each of the men’s faces.
A wisp of gray rose from the slope below, climbing into the air like a finger pointing at the cloudless sky. Even in the warm air, a chill seeped through her. The thin column floated on the breeze, growing larger by the second.
Elsie turned toward the men. “Is that smoke?”
Heads jerked up, including her father’s. He stepped out of the circle, lifting a hand to shade his eyes.
Nate came loping up the hill, his chest heaving. “One of the trucks—on fire!” His voice hitched, the effort it had taken to run up the steep side of Washburn evident in every word.
The crew swarmed toward him, but Nate waved his arms. “No, don’t. It’s coming this way.” He stopped and bent over, trying to catch his breath. After a moment, he straightened. “The flames have caught the underbrush; it’s heading uphill.”
Elsie’s knees grew weak. More fire. Would she ever escape it?
Her father reached Nate in a few strides. “The trucks—were they engulfed? Were all the vehicles burning?”
“I couldn’t tell, sir. I saw the one go up, though. It was a fireball. You could feel it.” He ran an arm across his face, his glance darting up toward Elsie. “If the others aren’t burning, they will be within minutes.”
Elsie wrapped her arms around herself. She’d heard stories of Yellowstone fires—even seen them from a distance. But she’d never been face to face with one before.
The smoke thickened with each passing moment, billowing into the sky and curling around itself. She couldn’t see the flames, hidden below in the tree cover. But how long would it take for the fire to reach them? With the speed Nate had apparently run, he must have sensed hellfire nipping his heels.
She wanted to rush over and throw herself into his arms, but she couldn’t move. Her legs were locked in place.
Her father turned and surveyed the surrounding landscape. He took off his hat and ran a quick hand through his graying hair. “All right, men. We’re going to fall back—or rather along—the mountain. Fire surges uphill, blown by updrafts and embers. We can’t outclimb it, so resist the urge to go up. We’ll head south, toward Sulphur Creek, and try to make it around the worst of it.”
Elsie stood in place, a tremor taking up residence deep within. Would the fire overtake them? Many of the trees were already dying from beetle damage, and even the healthy ones were dry from a summer with less than normal rain. She rubbed her arms, trying to chase away the prickly fingers of dread creeping over her.
Her father reached her first, laying a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Elsie. We’re just going to swing wide around it. I don’t want to take any chances.”
She nodded, her throat as dry as the ground at her feet. “I know. I’ll keep up.”
“I have no doubt.” He winked. “You’re a ranger’s daughter. This land is part of you.”
Nate eased in beside her, his breathing still ragged. “Should we take the equipment?”
Her father glanced over at the tools. “Grab your canteens and any small hand tools but leave the saws. We can pick them up and refit them later. We need to be able to move fast.”
The men scattered to retrie
ve what they could, and Nate turned to Elsie. “I’m sorry. This must be about your worst nightmare.”
She straightened. “I can make it.” She fell in beside him as the men began the scramble south. “Your letters from home?”
He shook his head. “I guess I’ll never know.”
“Why would the truck catch fire? It doesn’t make sense.”
Nate shoved some tree branches out of the way, letting her go ahead of him. “I don’t know. I feel like flames have been chasing us all summer. This can’t be normal.”
“Lightning strikes are common in this region. But trash cans and trucks?” She shook her head. “No. I’ve thought…” Her throat clenched, not liking where her mind was traveling.
“What?”
She ran her hands down her sleeves, trying to ignore that the aches in her arms had built into jabs of pain. “At first I thought maybe Graham was involved.”
Nate frowned. “Graham? Why?”
“Well, he was at Mammoth that night. And at the Canyon Camp for the talent show.” She bit her lip. “And I guess I just associate him with fire, after what happened when we were kids.” The words sounded foolish as soon as they left her mouth. “But why would he do that? Why would anyone?”
He slowed his steps for a moment, then pushed forward, hooking his arm under hers and tugging her along. “I spoke with Graham yesterday.”
The low tone in his voice sent a quiver through her. “And?”
“He says he explained the game to Rose, and she wants to keep seeing him.”
A band tightened around her chest. Rose had been weighed down with sadness since Pete abandoned her. It was like a cloud she couldn’t shake off. She seemed to be grasping at Graham’s affections without realizing the dead end he represented.
Nate grabbed a branch and pushed it out of her way. “But there’s a big difference between being a worm and starting fires.”
Elsie tugged at her collar, wooziness creeping over her like a fog. “That’s true.”
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