“What about Sundays? You don’t open Sundays, right?”
“Right. I sleep in on Sundays. Until six.”
“You count six o’clock as a sleep in?”
“It is for me. My body clock gets screwed up if I sleep any later than that.”
Dex was silent for a while. Cady couldn’t guess what he was thinking.
“There’s our problem,” he finally said. “I’m a night owl. I hit my stride about midnight.” He placed his hand on either side of her head, pushing the pillow down. She glanced at the clock. It was 11:58.
“I can sleep tomorrow,” she managed to murmur before they kissed again.
Chapter Twelve
Cady could see her friends Laurel and Jacqui at a table in the corner of Cady’s Cakes, watching her every move. In between serving customers at the counter, she walked over with two plates and set them on the table.
“Here’s the deal,” she announced. “A red velvet for you, Laurel, and a banana with vanilla frosting for you, Jacqui, if you quit psychoanalysing me from across the room.”
“We were not psychoanalysing you. We were just noticing how different you seem lately.”
Laurel winked at Jacqui. “Yeah, like in the past week kind of lately.”
Cady pulled up a chair, hoping to get a few minutes with her friends. She checked the shop. There was no one at the counter and no one coming in.
“Dex and I, well, we…” Cady paused. She wasn’t used to gossiping about her sex life. Hell, until Dex, she hadn’t had one since the culinary institute.
“Honey, we know that.” Jacqui reached over and squeezed her hand. “We were just enjoying you walking around your shop in a kind of daydream. It’s so great to see you looking so happy.”
Cady slapped her hands to her cheeks. “Is it that damn obvious?”
Laurel covered her other hand. “Only to us. Only to your friends.”
“Things are good,” Cady replied. “What’s not to be happy about? I have you guys. My business is amazing.”
Laurel mumbled through a mouthful of cupcake. “Sure is.”
“And I’m seeing Dex for dinner.”
Jacqui dropped what she was eating and picked up her vibrating phone. She’d left it sitting on the table near a coffee cup. Cady knew she was on call at the station. All three women exchanged glances.
Jacqui silently read the text message. “I’ve got to go. We’re sending crews up.”
Lauren’s phone beeped and she read her message. “Sam’s just messaged me. He always texts me and says I love you before he flies out.”
Both women stood. “Thanks, Cady,” Jacqui said.
Cady saw the change in expression on her friend’s face. She’d lost her husband, Russ, in a smokejumping accident, and now her partner, Vin, faced the same risks. Lauren’s partner Sam, the crew captain, put his life at risk every time he went up.
Cady froze inside. It was different with Dex now. Deeper, closer. They shared an intimacy that hadn’t existed the last time he went up. Did she have a right to feel scared for him? How did these two women—and all the other partners of smokejumpers everywhere—cope with it?
Laurel leaned down to hug Cady. “They’re all incredibly well-trained and capable, Cady. And safety is the number one priority up there. He may be the rookie, but Dex knows what he’s doing.”
“In know.” Cady squeezed back. “This is the first time… since we…”
“I know. I’ll call you when I know anything.”
“Thanks, Laurel.”
Laurel skipped out after Jacqui and Cady swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and returned to her customers.
It wasn’t until later in the day, after she’d closed the front door and flipped the Open sign to Closed that she saw his message.
Really sorry about dinner tonight. About to jump. Call you when I can.
*
Up in the mountains, the crew bunked down in the encroaching darkness. They’d been fighting the outbreaks, sparked by lightning from an encroaching autumn storm, all afternoon and now had to wait for first light to see the full extent of the damage.
Captain Sam Gaskill was sitting on the ground next to Dex.
“Hey, rookie, I was thinking about your old man the other day. How’s he doing in that new place?”
It was just like Sam to remember that. Dex had been honest with Sam about his family situation when he’d joined up. Dex didn’t exactly have a solid record when it came to sticking around at a job, and he’d explained why he’d come home, why he was changing. Between his dad and Lila, Mitch and Sarah had borne a huge burden and Dex figured it was time he was around home more. All the jobs he’d done had helped pay for Lila’s therapy and their father’s care, but they needed more than financial support these days. He knew that. That was why he’d come home for good. He didn’t have a family of his own, so he would do the best he could for his brother’s family.
“He’s good. Apparently he’s hooked up with someone.”
Sam looked at him and in the light of the fire they’d made for warmth, Dex could see the look of shock on his captain’s face. “No shit.”
Dex laughed. “Good for him, I say.”
“Hell, yeah,” Sam replied. “That’s what keeps you warm at the end of the day, right? The love of a good woman?”
Dex knew Sam was talking about Laurel, but his thoughts turned immediately to Cady. His head had been full of her since that night at her place. When he’d messaged her earlier that afternoon, when the crew had got the call there was a fire to fight, it had taken hours to get a reply. He figured she was busy in the shop. He was damn lucky he still had some reception up on the mountain.
Sorry—just saw this. Stay safe. Raincheck on that dinner. C xx
Damn straight there was going to be a raincheck on that dinner. And he’d make up for missing it with flowers and maybe some chocolates. Did she like chocolates? He didn’t know. Maybe not, if she was surrounded by sweet things all day. Or maybe she was surrounded by sweet things all day because she liked chocolate. He’d have to find out.
“What’s the latest forecast? Where are the winds coming from and how strong?” Dex asked Sam.
“It’s coming up. By early morning, we’ll see the worst of it before the storm hits. Things could get hairy out here. Get some sleep while you can. And keep your strength up. Keep up your fluids and eat something.”
Sam walked off to check on the other crew members and Dex dug in his rations pack. He pulled out some dried beef jerky and a sealed bag of Cady’s trail mix bars. If he couldn’t have her tonight, he’d take some of her food. But, as he sat back, watched the stars disappear behind the think, dark clouds, and waited for the sun to full set, he thought it was a poor substitute.
“Night, Cady,” he said almost silently, wishing she might hear it.
*
The crew was up before dawn. The high winds had gusted in before the first fingers of light had brightened the night sky and everyone was equipped and ready. Some of the crew was already hiking up the mountain, armed with shovels and pulaskis, creating breaks so the fire wouldn’t spread. Dex and a group of his crew were armed with chainsaws and, as they ascended the mountain, their task was to trim the lower branches of the tall pines so fire wouldn’t spread from the ground and up into the trees. That was where the real danger of wildfire lay—once a tree caught alight, it fuelled itself and spread upwards and all around, catching other trees, the potential to spread for thousands of deadly miles.
As Dex did his job, watched out for his colleagues, listened out for new instructions from Sam, looked upwards to the grey, looming sky to see planes flying low to drop fire retardant, he tried not to think of Cady. Of what she was doing in the shop. Of what he was missing.
*
Dex and the rest of the smokejumpers had been up in the mountains for two nights and three days. Laurel had invited Cady around to her place for a movie night, clearly to distract them, but Cady had said a polite no thanks. She
’d been restless in the nights Dex had been away, which made her tired and exhausted by the time she closed the shop. A weight descended on the whole town when a team was away in the mountains, and it was no surprise, really. In a small community like this, everyone knew everyone knew someone who was up there. If they hadn’t gone to school with the men and women in the crew, they might see them in the supermarket or the post office or The Drop Zone.
And Dex was who she worried about the most. He was someone special to her now. Not simply a somebody she knew, had gone to school with, had kissed once, but he was someone she was seeing. Someone she’d slept with. Someone she liked a lot. Was it too early to be saying the “L” word? She locked the front door to Cady’s Cakes and wearily plodded up the stairs to her apartment. This was a definite bonus about living above the shop. When someone worked the hours she did, that two minute commute home made the long hours bearable.
She saw Dex everywhere now. At the bottom of the stairs where they’d kissed, hot and passionate. The living room, where he’d kissed her goodbye after he’d left early Sunday morning. And her bed. She hadn’t changed the sheets. She didn’t want to wash away the scent of him. It was comforting when he was gone.
She’d never regretted going home to an empty apartment, until now. She didn’t even have a cat to pet on her way in. She dropped her keys and phone on the kitchen table and opened the freezer for a meal. She popped the frozen lasagna in the microwave and waited for it to warm through.
“Be safe, Dex,” she whispered.
*
That night, Cady dreamt of mile high flames, licking at the ceiling of her bedroom, scorching her sheets and singeing her hair. She had leapt out of bed in a breathless panic but the rug was a swirling river, and she couldn’t put her feet down, so scared she would be swept away in its freezing depths.
When she woke, it was four in the morning. She was drenched in sweat and achy and the emotional exhaustion she felt made it seem as if she hadn’t slept at all. But she had to get out of bed. She checked the rug. It was green, as it had always been, not the dangerous river of her dreams. She yawned herself awake and tried to get her brain into first gear. It was Wednesday morning. She had to open Cady’s Cakes and, unless something had happened overnight, Dex was still up the mountain.
The morning flew by, as it always did when she baked. And when the doors opened at eight for the first run of before work coffee customers, she had a smile on her face and a welcoming word for everybody.
At nine, she messaged Jacqui for news. Her friend responded quickly, her short response indicating there wasn’t anything new to tell. The promised rain had skirted the mountain to the south and there had been fresh lightning strikes overnight. Cady knew that meant more work for the no doubt filthy and exhausted smokejumpers. There were strange and confusing feelings in her head. She wanted Dex next to her. She wanted him safe. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and thank him for being a hero and kiss him for being him.
And that all seemed too new, too fresh, too raw to think about. She was growing increasingly worried about making herself so vulnerable to someone else, someone she’d really just gotten to know. Sure, she’d known Dex since high school but they hadn’t been friends then. Barely acquaintances. They’d lived on different sides of town. He’d been a jock. She spent all her time studying and in the home ec room, learning all she could from her teachers about the science and art of baking. She’d had plans for her future.
Word had spread like gossip at high school that senior year, about the death of his mother. And he’d turned up the day after the funeral stoically walking the halls to class, nodding silently when people had murmured their apologies and their commiserations. Her heart had broken for him then. She remembered the feeling of wanting to comfort him, of needing to let him know he wasn’t alone in that big, lonely school filled with teenagers embarrassed at their own reactions to his loss. When she’d seen him that day at the school gate, about to head home, she’d thought he’d looked so lonely, so sad, so broken, she had gone to him, almost without thinking, and thrown her arms around him. She’d held on tight and whispered, “I’m so sorry.” But she wasn’t sure if it was loud enough for him to hear it.
Years later, she would find what loss was, the painful, unspoken depths of it, with the deaths of the grandmother and then her mother within months of each other. She and Dex had something in common now that they didn’t back in high school. Perhaps that was what drew them to one another. Cady didn’t know. She couldn’t define it yet. But she wanted him. She missed him. And she was worried as hell about him. All she wanted, prayed for, was his safe return.
But the loss of Captain Russ Edwards in a smokejumping accident a year ago reminded her that prayers weren’t always answered.
And that simply made her terrified. About the risks Dex was taking and about how her own heart was at such risk from another loss.
Chapter Thirteen
Thursday morning, six o’clock. Cady was in the back of Cady’s Cakes in the gleaming stainless steel kitchen, mixing up a batch of something new—her version of a traditional, buttermilk pound cake but turned into individual cupcakes. She had needed the distraction of concentrating on something other than the mountain and the fire and Dex. Just as she was about to start on some blueberry mini cheesecakes and a batch of brownies, her phone buzzed. She wiped her floury hands on her apron, went to it quickly, and opened the message.
No reception for days. On way home. Missed you. Call later.
They weren’t the most romantic eleven words in history but Cady read the message three times and then burst into relieved tears.
*
The smokejumpers arrived back at base early that afternoon. Their hard work had paid off. The fires were out and thousands of acres of pristine national forest had been preserved by their actions.
It was the job, and a job Dex was proud to do. He didn’t mind how filthy he was—the rest of the crew was just as smoky and dirty—because it was mission accomplished, with the help of everyone in the team, the pilots, the ground crew, the truck drivers and the smokejumpers. He’d received congratulations from Sam Gaskill, too, which had made him feel proud. He’d done a lot of different jobs in his life, but this one was about teamwork, which he’d never had before. He’d learnt a lot about working with other members of the crew when he’d been in Missoula doing his exchange.
He shook away a terrible memory from that time.
Don’t think about the old couple in the cabin. Think about Cady instead. Cady with the sparkling green eyes. Cady with the long chestnut hair and the body you want against yours. Put her in your head. Delete the old stuff. He sighed, swore to himself. The fire had resurrected those recent memories of death and tragedy.
What he needed to do right now was clean up, throw on his clothes, jump in his truck, and go eat a damn cupcake.
*
When he pushed through the doors of Cady’s Cakes in Glacier Creek, there was a bustling crowd at the counter and every table in the place was full. He didn’t want people—he wanted him and Cady, alone, and he was determined to drag her upstairs to bed as soon as she closed up. He looked over the heads of the customers, but couldn’t see Cady in the crush.
There was chatter and laughter, hushed conversations, and a young child somewhere squealing in delight. In one corner, there was a group of new moms with their babes in arms, some sleeping, some feeding. Next door to them, there was a table empty of chairs but surrounded by people using wheelchairs, playing a board game with deep concentration. A group of grey-haired older women each had a well-thumbed book in their hands, pointing at the pages and disagreeing passionately with each other. And at the far end, there were some guys he recognised from ranches around the district, tucking into black coffee and donuts with great gusto.
This was really a surprise. Dex hadn’t realised before how much Cady’s Cakes had become a meeting place for people in Glacier Creek. He’d always thought The Drop Zone was the only p
lace locals gathered around Flathead Lake.
He checked his watch. It was four o’clock. He was pretty sure Cady closed up at five. He could kill an hour. Easy. A cup of joe and, yeah, one of Cady’s cakes.
He strode towards the front counter and realised that with each step, the whispers ceased. The passionate arguments about the book of the month silenced. Even the babies seemed to stop crying. And then it started. One person clapping, and then another, and then table by table the applause grew louder.
What the fuck?
And the applause turned into something he’d hear at The Drop Zone when a visiting band had finished their set, but this was louder and Dex looked around. Every person in the place was beaming at him. And then someone slapped him on the back like it was a football game from high school and a grey-haired lady was in front of him, grabbing his arm and reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.
“Thank you for helping save our precious mountains,” she said. “You’re a hero.”
And the applause grew louder and Dex felt strangely uncomfortable. He wasn’t a hero. He was just a man who had done his job, working alongside hundreds of other men and women who were doing their jobs, too.
He moved through the crowd, shaking hands that seemed to emerge out of nowhere, taking the pats on the back, until he reached the counter. And Cady. When he saw there, tears welling in her beautiful green eyes, her arms crossed fiercely, he wanted to jump over the damn thing and hold her. Tell her he was okay. That he was better than okay. Because, for the first time in his life, he’d had someone waiting for him when he got home. That was the only reward he’d ever wanted.
He’d missed her more than he’d missed any damn thing in his whole life.
“Hey,” he shouted above the applause.
Cady nodded, pulling her lips together. Her bottom lip was quivering. Dex turned to the cheering crowd and raised his hands to quieten them.
“Three cheers for the smokejumpers!” someone yelled from the back of the cafe and everyone cheered. He waited until the noise settled, then spoke.
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