Jumping Feet First

by Melissa Stevens

  He looked at her a moment, blinking before he answered, “I don’t remember if I did either. I’m James, James Conner.” He looked pointedly at her hands where they kept busy with the carding brushes. “I’d shake your hand but you’re a little busy.”

  “No worries, it’s not like we’ve not met before.” She dropped her gaze back to the work at hand and forced herself to keep it there, despite the itch between her shoulder blades that told her he was watching her. “How’s the fire?”

  “Under control enough I got a full night’s sleep and enough time off to come out and check on you.”

  Now she couldn’t help it. Something in his tone made her look up to find him still watching her, a look on his face she didn’t know how to interpret. If they knew each other better she might say he was worried about her, but they’d only met the once before, so that couldn’t be. Could it? Maybe he was one of those people who cared about and was concerned about everyone. She turned to gaze out across the meadow at the herd, watching him from the corner of her eye as she tried to decide just what was on his mind.

  “You know you’re not out of danger, right? There’s still a chance the wind could pick back up and blow the fire back around putting you and your ranch back in danger.”

  “I know. It’s not over until the fire is out.” She took a deep breath and pushed all thoughts of losing the farm from her head. Worrying about it would keep her from getting things done. She didn’t have time or the energy for that. She already knew that worrying about it was as draining as some of the physical labor and she didn’t need to do that to herself. There would be enough to do that she would still need the energy for.

  “I’d try to convince you to leave, but I get the sense it would be a waste of my time and breath.” He sighed then spoke again. “Do you need anything? Food, drinking water?”

  “I’m good. I keep at least a month’s worth of food on hand, and another two weeks’ worth of survival rations. With the wells, I’ve got plenty of water, as well as several cases of bottled water.”

  James frowned, opened his mouth, then closed it and looked away. A moment later he turned back. “Why?”

  “Why what?” she thought she knew what he was asking but wanted to be sure.

  “Why keep all that?”

  Yep, that was what she’d thought he’d meant.

  “It’s rural out here. Sometimes it storms, and I end up stuck out here for a while, either until the snow melts or the roads dry enough I can get out again.”

  “That explains the food, but the survival rations?”

  Ally lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sometimes we lose power too. It seemed like a good idea to keep something around that would keep a long time and take little to no prep. Just in case.”

  “Have you ever needed to eat them?”

  “I’ve eaten a few, not that I was forced to. I wanted to see what they were like.”

  He watched her for a few seconds and Allison fought the urge to fidget under his gaze. Did these questions have a point or was he just trying to get to know more about her and her situation here? She had no way to know and until he did something and she couldn’t be rude. Her mother would have kicked her butt to the end of the driveway and back if she wasn’t polite, at least until he’d given her a reason not to be. Not that she couldn’t defend herself or stand up for herself, but her mama had taught her to start with kindness and only resort to unkind words and actions if she had to. She’d found she often didn’t have to.

  “What did you think?”

  Ally crinkled her nose as she remembered the weird texture and bland flavors. “They were tolerable, but not something I’d want to eat all the time.”

  James laughed, a full rolling laugh that made his eyes light and the corners crinkle. “Did you get commercial rations or military issue?”

  “MREs, why?”

  “We keep a couple in our emergency supplies. The MREs, not the civilian versions. We end up eating them way more often than I’d like, but they’re better than going hungry.” Something about the change in him as he’d commiserated over the unpalatable meals made her feel a little less uncharitable about him.

  “There’s a chair over there if you’d like to join me for a bit.” She nodded toward the barn where she’d left a couple folding chairs. Not that she’d expected anyone to drop by to visit, she’d moved them out of the way inside and decided they were something that could be replaced fairly easily if they were damaged by weather or fire, so they’d stayed there.

  James fetched the chair, unfolded it and sat beside her so they were both facing looking out over her herd in the meadow.

  “What’s your plan now?”

  Ally was quiet a moment as she tried to decide what to say. “I keep going.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll keep penning them at sunset and taking them into the barn at night, at least until the fire’s out.”

  “You sleeping in the loft?”

  “What would be the point if I didn’t?”

  He shook his head. “You actually getting any sleep?”

  “I’m getting by.”

  James turned his head and looked at her with a frown. “How much sleep you think you’re actually getting?”

  “At least three hours a night.” She didn’t tell him that after she’d laid there for several hours the first night she’d not repeated it the second. She didn’t know if it was her aching body, the uncomfortable cot or her mind racing a million miles an hour as she worried about the fire and what if it moved in while she slept. So at bedtime, instead of lying in the dark for hours a second time she’d pulled out her spinning wheel and worked on spinning up some yarn. After a few hours of that, she’d managed to get a couple hours sleep before the animals on the ground had gotten restless and their bleating and thumping into the walls had woken her.

  He stared at her for what felt like an eon but was probably under twenty seconds. “How long you think you can keep that up?”

  “As long as I have to.”

  He shot her a look she didn’t have to know him well to recognize as skepticism. She couldn’t really blame him. he probably knew more about long term sleep deprivation than she did, but the way she saw it, she didn’t have much choice. She’d keep going until she could stop, or something else stopped her. Even if that was when the time came that exhaustion overwhelmed her worry and anxiety and she slept all night without the insomnia that had been plaguing her since this fire started and began threatening her home and livelihood.

  “You think you can keep this up for another couple weeks, if we can’t get this thing out?”

  “Either that or I’ll start sleeping at night. I’ll take either one at this point.” Unable to hold it back any longer, she yawned. She needed to move around and get her blood pumping a little, so she set her brushes aside and stood. Glancing out over the herd, she made sure there wasn’t anything that needed her immediate attention then turned back to James.

  “I’m going inside for a sandwich, would you like one?”

  He was quiet, just watching her for a moment then nodded. “Sure, I’ll take a sandwich.”

  Chapter 10

  James didn’t know how to take the sudden change. She’d been a little defensive, now she was inviting him in for food. It took a moment for his brain to catch up, because even though he’d gotten a full night’s sleep, it had been his first in nearly a week and one night wasn’t going to fix everything.

  He stood to follow her inside, noticing the sway of her hips in the worn denim as she went ahead. If he was still a little foggy after a full night’s sleep, how foggy did she have to be without one? Granted, she probably hadn’t been doing the intense physical labor day after day as he had, but, he knew, the emotional and mental toll of worrying was just as taxing.

  Now that he was here on a welfare check, and one that he’d initiated himself, and he wasn’t responsible for getting Miss Keeting, or Allison as he found himself thinking of her, out of the area and to
safety, he could see her point. Not that he hadn’t before, but he was a little more sympathetic now that they weren’t in immediate danger. Possibly for the same reason, he found her cuter and even her determination was something he could admire. Now that it wasn’t at complete odds with his goal, and making his job and life more difficult, he could appreciate her spunk.

  She led him across the short way to the mid-century looking ranch house with a wide porch. She didn’t hesitate at the base of the steps or even look back to see if he was following. He couldn’t help but admire the light way she climbed the stairs, it was hard to tell she’d been getting by on less than half the sleep she should have, for several days on end now. His admiration for her determination and spunk kept growing. It wasn’t easy for a woman alone to make a go of a place like this, much less do it, and survive when a challenge like this fire came along. That she was managing, and seeming to thrive, was impressive.

  “Turkey or ham?” She opened an old-fashioned wooden screen door and stepped into a kitchen that had obviously been updated in the last twenty years as the electrical was more modern than the rest of the house appeared.

  James fought the urge to shake his head at his automatic assessment of the building and how up to code it might be. He’d been out to some homes with bare wires and exposed outlets, he’d been amazed the electrical hadn’t sparked a fire that sent the whole forest burning years before. At least that wasn’t a worry this time.

  “Turkey, if you don’t mind.” He glanced around again, this time looking at the room instead of looking for dangers. It was neat, organized and clean. It couldn’t be easy keeping it this way when she spent so much time working to protect the ranch from the fires.

  “No problem.” She opened the fridge and pulled out several things, setting them on the square island between them. “Sorry, I don’t have any onion.”

  “That’s all right. I don’t normally eat it anyway.”

  He sat on one of the pair of stools next to the bar and watched as she quickly put together a pair of sandwiches, setting them on separate plates and sliding one across to him before she grabbed a bag of chips from another counter, opened it and set them in front of him then brought her plate to sit on the stool beside his. They ate in silence, and James couldn’t help but notice how easy it was to spend time with her, even time in silence. Allison didn’t seem to need to fill the silence. Most of the women James had dated had seemed to hate the quiet, it had rubbed him wrong because he liked the quiet. He enjoyed being able to talk to someone, but he also liked when they were comfortable enough around him so that they didn’t feel the need to talk all the time, to try to entertain him every moment they were together.

  He wasn’t sure why he was thinking how attractive she was or about women he’d dated in the past, he wasn’t here looking for a girlfriend, or even for a date. He wasn’t going to be in town long enough for that. He would only be in town long enough to get the fire out, or at minimum, contained, then he would be shipped out to the next fire.

  This was a long ways from Cheyenne, where he now called home. Not that he had any roots in Cheyenne, or even spent much time there, other than having grown up a few hours away in a small town he couldn’t wait to get shot of. Now, since he’d been here, he’d seriously considered moving closer. Though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be in town quite this small. The area was gorgeous and he wouldn’t mind living here rather than the city where he spent half his time trying to get where he was going instead of doing what he was trying to get done.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Almost two years.” Allison looked out a nearby window and her gaze grew distant.

  He glanced out the window, curious what had caught her attention, and found a pair of kids, immature sheep, playing and headbutting each other and their mothers. The simple fun in the scene made him smile.

  “I love it out here. I’m so glad I made the move.”

  “Where’d you come from?” He hadn’t realized she wasn’t from around here, but the more he listened to her, he started picking up hints in her accent.

  “I grew up in St. Louis, but I did my research, and found a place that while not totally welcome, my animals aren’t totally unwelcome like they are in some places…”

  He thought about it a moment. He knew cattle ranchers didn’t care for people who kept the smaller animals, but he had no idea why, only that he’d seen it in older movies. The cattle ranchers always hated the ones who kept sheep and usually ran them off.

  “But you’re not raising them for meat, right? You’re not competing with them.”

  “It’s not about competing for sales, it’s about the land. They don’t like having to share the land with them.” She took another bite and watched her plate while she chewed. “It’s been better than I expected here. I’ve not had anyone get hostile.”

  James couldn’t help the slow blink as he looked at her. People got hostile over what kind of animal you raised?

  “Wow. I’m glad they’ve been friendly here.”

  She let out a mirthless laugh. “I didn’t say they’d been friendly, but at least they’ve not been hostile. I don’t know, maybe it’s not because of my animals, maybe it’s just because I’m not a local.” She sighed. “I guess I’m just sensitive about the sheep.”

  James didn’t know what to say, so he stayed quiet, thinking about what she’d said. He knew what it was like to think everyone was out to get you for one reason or another. He’d been a bit of a nerd in school, at least until he’d hit a growth spurt in high school and finally grew muscle to fight back when someone picked on him. He never started the fight, but he’d ended a few after that. Still, he’d been hyper aware of everything said and sometimes felt like the popular kids were calling him out for one reason when they had something else entirely on their minds. Not that it had mattered. Being picked on or left out for one reason or another wasn’t good, whether it was the reason he’d assumed or not.

  They finished their meal and James helped her pick up the dishes and straighten up before they went back outside. He expected her to go back to brushing the wool, but instead she turned toward the far end of the meadow.

  “Where you headed?” He frowned as he followed.

  “It’s time to turn on this pump again. I’ve got to keep the field wet, at least until the fire passes.”

  He wanted to follow, but knew he should be getting back to their temporary headquarters. “Need some help?”

  She stopped and turned back to face him. “Nah, I’ve got it. You can head back if they need you back in town.”

  “I should.” He gazed out at the field a moment, wishing he could stay. He enjoyed her company more than he’d thought he would. “I hope you continue to do as well as you have so far, Miss Keeting.”

  “Miss Keeting makes me sound like a nineteenth century schoolmarm. Call me Ally, most of my friends do.”

  He grinned, happy to find that she went by the nickname he’d dubbed her in his head. “I’ll do that. Anyway. I should be getting back. I hope we get the fire out soon and your place isn’t in anymore danger.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’d like to come back out and see you, if I get a chance, and you don’t mind. Not to try to remove you or anything, just to talk. I’ve enjoyed this morning.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Good. I don’t know when I’ll get a chance, or even that I will, but I’ll try to come back out and see you once we’ve got the fire out, or at least contained.”

  A soft smile curved her lips making him wonder what she tasted like. Where the hell had that thought come from?

  “I guess I’ll let you go turn on the water and I’ll head out.” He hesitated a moment, the urge to shake her hand, hug her, something, was strong, but he struggled, knowing nothing was appropriate.

  “Have a safe trip back and don’t end up like those fire fighters who ended up in the hospital. I’m glad you weren’t one of them, by the way.”


  “Me too. Thanks and I’ll try.” He watched as she turned for the pumphouse at the far end of the meadow and forced himself to turn and go back to the borrowed truck.

  James couldn’t help but think about Ally as he drove back to town. Her calm acceptance of whatever was to come, yet she wasn’t afraid to fight for what she wanted. There was just something about her that made her hard to push from his mind.

  The radio mounted to the dash squawked and among the static he made out his name. Adrenaline raced through him making his senses a little sharper. He picked up the mike and returned the call.

  “Where have you been? We’ve been trying to reach you for over an hour,” the dispatcher asked. It wasn’t a voice he recognized, so it was probably a local.

  “I was a the Keeting place. I got clearance from the commander.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “On my way back. Why?”

  “No, highway numbers. I don’t know every house around here.”

  James frowned, but tried to remember exactly where he was.

  “When I hit the highway, I’ll be about eight miles north on the 52.”

  “You east or west of the 52?”

  “West.”

  “Son of a bitch.” The silence hung thick for a moment as James wondered what was going on, then a different voice came over the radio. This time it was his commander.

  “Connor? How thick is the smoke out there?”

  “Thick enough if you’re doing anything strenuous you’ll want a mask. What’s going on?”

  It was several seconds before his commander spoke again. “Wind’s changed. We’ve got a flair and it seems to be heading right at you. Any way you can get back here?”

  James took a closer look at the clouds and smoke in front of him and over the highway back to town, they were dark and building fast.