Facing The Fire

by Barrett, Gail

  The Jeep lurched over another rock and stopped abruptly, ramming his knee to his chest. A spasm racked his shoulder and he fought down another groan. Forget whiplash. If she kept this up, he’d pass out before they reached the bottom.

  But a few feet later, the bank mercifully flattened, and she let up on the brakes. The Jeep bounced down to the riverbed then stopped with a sudden jerk.

  They both exhaled. A second later, her gaze met his. “Stage one. Now to get us through that water.”

  Cade’s mouth curved up, and he felt a glimmer of pride, much like he did for his rookies. Despite her inexperience and fear, she’d pulled through.

  “Any special route I should take?” she asked.

  He turned his attention back to the river. The headlights lit the swirling current but the water beyond that was nearly black. “Not that I can tell. Get closer and we’ll see how it looks.”

  “All right.” Small stones and branches crunched under the tires as she drove forward. The Jeep jostled over the uneven ground, but didn’t slip. When they reached the water, she braked.

  He peered through the windshield. The water trickled harmlessly along the river’s edges, skirting rocks and splitting into shallow side streams. But yards of dark, unbroken water stretched across the center.

  “You think we can cross it?” she asked, her voice tight.

  “We’ll find out soon enough.” His gaze met hers and he saw the anxiety crowding her eyes. “Hey.” He lifted his hand to touch her, to stroke away the worry and soothe the rapid drum of her pulse. Then he stopped. She wasn’t his to touch anymore.

  He dropped his hand to his knee. “You’ll do fine.”

  “Right.” She managed a strained smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and flicked her gaze back to the river. Then she sat up straighter, eased out the clutch and drove in.

  Cade stuck his head out the window to watch. The water barely moistened the hubcaps. “It’s just a few inches deep.”

  “Should I go faster?”

  “No, this is good.”

  The Jeep rolled steadily forward, swaying and bumping over rocks. The smell of water spread through the cooling night air. He glanced at Jordan and saw that she’d glued both hands to the wheel. “You’re doing great.”

  “I don’t know.” She nibbled her lip. “I wish we didn’t have so far to go.”

  “We’ll get through it.”

  She shot him a quick glance. “You think so? It looks like it’s getting deeper.”

  “Yeah.” Ignoring his throbbing shoulder, he leaned out the window again. The water had inched to the top of the hubcaps. “But we’re still okay.” At least they hadn’t sunk into mud.

  They drove further into the river, and the water continued to rise. The Jeep tipped on a rock, and she righted it with a splash.

  “Cade…”

  “I know.” He frowned at the water creeping toward the axle, then shifted his gaze to the shore. Hell. They weren’t going to make it after all.

  Resigned, he pulled his head back inside. “Okay, we’d better turn ar—”

  A metallic screech rent the air, and the Jeep abruptly stopped. Oh, hell.

  “What happened?” Jordan asked, her voice high. “What did we hit?”

  “A rock, probably.” Under the water where they couldn’t see it.

  “Oh, God.”

  He kept his tone calm. “It’s all right. Let’s try backing up and see if we can dislodge it.”

  She shoved the gearshift into Reverse and pressed on the gas. The tires spun, but the Jeep didn’t move. She stopped, inhaled sharply, then tried again.

  “Not too fast.” He hung his head out the window as water streamed up the door. “Okay, a little harder.”

  She hit the gas and the engine’s fan came on. “Not too much,” he cautioned. She slowed, but then the engine sputtered and missed. “Stop!” He jerked his head back inside.

  “What’s wrong?” Jordan asked. The Jeep vibrated roughly, coughing and stumbling

  badly.

  “Water probably got into the engine.”

  “Water? But how do we—”

  The vehicle bucked, jolting them forward, then died.

  The river’s rush filled the sudden silence. Water splashed past in the light of the Jeep’s high beams. “Try to start it,” he said.

  She cranked the engine. It churned and whined in the silence. She turned it off and tried again.

  “You might as well stop,” he finally said when it didn’t catch. “We’ll have to let it dry out.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Hard to say. A few hours maybe.”

  “A few hours!” Her gaze flew to his. “But we can’t just sit here and wait.”

  “No.” He kept his gaze steady on hers. “We need to keep going. We’ll come back later and tow the Jeep.”

  She bit her lip as that shock registered, and tension tightened her elegant jaw. But after several long seconds, she nodded. “So how do you want to do this?”

  His respect for her rose. She was a fighter; he’d give her that much. Despite the setback, she didn’t balk.

  He returned his gaze to the river. “We can use the rope. We’ll tie it off to the bumper.”

  “You think it’s that deep?”

  “Probably not, but the rocks could be slick. We’ll hold on to it for balance.”

  “What about the dog?”

  “He can swim.”

  “But what if he goes the wrong way? He might head back toward the fire.”

  He frowned back at the dog huddled behind his seat. The dog’s worried gaze lifted to his. “I’ve still got that beef jerky in my bag. Won’t he follow the smell of that?”

  “Not if he’s scared.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “I can carry him across first, then come back and help with the bags.”

  The muscles along his jaw flexed. He wasn’t that damn helpless. “I’ll carry the bags. And if you’re that worried about the dog, tie him to the other end of the rope. Then you can pull him along.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Her lips curved, and her blatant approval blocked the air in his lungs.

  And without warning, the old dizziness seeped through his brain. That heady, off-kilter feeling that made him want to promise the moon. To do anything to feel her admiration, her respect.

  Jordan grabbed her bag from the backseat and stuffed her purse inside. Then she propped it between the seats and picked up the rope. “Are you going to take off your boots?”

  Still feeling light-headed, he pulled his attention back to the problem at hand. “No, the rocks could be sharp.”

  “Then I’ll keep my tennis shoes on.” She handed him the rope, then pushed her seat farther back. Rising to one knee, she bent and lifted the dog. “You really do stink,” she said as she slid with him into her seat. She kissed the top of his head and rubbed his ears. “But we’re still not going to leave you.”

  She shot Cade a grin. “At least he’ll get a bath out of this.”

  Impressed that she could joke under pressure, he shook his head. She was a trooper, all right. And that lethal combination of feminine warmth and grit made her hard to resist.

  “Tie this to his collar.” He handed her the end of the rope. “We’ll hook the other end to the bumper and hold on to that.”

  “Got it.” She threaded the rope under the dog’s collar and secured the knot. Then she took a deep breath to gather her courage and pushed on her door. It didn’t budge, so she shoved again, hard.

  The door swung slowly open and she looked out. The dark, swirling water lapped at the floorboards, and dread spiked through her nerves. Good God, she didn’t want to do this.

  But Cade needed her help, and so did the dog. She sucked in her breath and hopped out. And shrieked.

  “Cold?” Cade asked.

  “No, it’s great,” she lied, shivering wildly. “Jump right in.”

  Cade’s low chuckle
drifted on the night air. She turned, set the dog back on her seat and grabbed the rope. “You stay here,” she told the dog. Then she looked at Cade. He’d attached the headlamp to his hard hat and put it on.

  “I’ll tie the other end to the bumper,” she said. “I’ll come back for my bag and the dog.”

  Locking her jaw against the cold, she waded to the front of the Jeep. The icy

  water soaked through her lightweight sneakers and plastered her jeans to her calves.

  Cade’s door swung open, then closed. “You were right about the stones,” she said as he came over. Even with her shoes on, she could feel them poking her feet.

  She threaded the rope around the bumper and knotted it several times. She worked quickly, but her hands grew stiff from the cold. Cade switched on his headlamp for extra light.

  “Let’s see.” He grabbed the rope near the knots and pulled. “Looks good.”

  A sense of victory spread through her, and she grinned. Maybe tying a few knots wasn’t important, but at least she’d done something right.

  Cade had both bags slung over his good shoulder. “Here,” she said, reaching up. “I’ll take mine.”

  “Never mind. I’ve got it.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Especially since he needed that arm for the rope.

  “I said I’ve got it.”

  She recognized that stubborn tone. “Fine. I’ll get the dog.” Her teeth chattering now, she waded slowly around her door to the seat.

  “Here we go.” She lifted the trembling dog, then paused to scratch his ear. “You know, you’re pretty heavy for someone so skinny.” Checking to making sure his rope didn’t catch, she stepped back and closed the door.

  Cade waited in the path of the headlights, the rest of the rope in his hand. “I’ll go first,” he said. He played out a few feet of line. “Hang on to this part behind me. And you might as well set down the dog. He can swim.”

  “In a minute.” She clutched the shaking dog tighter and rubbed her cheek on his head. She didn’t know who needed the comfort more, the dog or herself. “We’ll get through this together,” she whispered.

  Cade waited until she grabbed the rope behind him, then started walking toward shore. She followed in his wake, letting the cold rope slide through her hand. The uneven rocks made it hard to stay upright and she tightened her grip on the dog. “We’re okay,” she said, more to herself than to him.

  The current pushed against her knees as she waded along. She tried not to think about the dark, rushing water turning her feet to ice. She focused instead on Cade’s strong back, relying on him to guide her.

  Cade stopped a few yards later and waited for her to catch up. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” But she knew they’d freeze unless they picked up the pace. “I’d better put the dog down, though.” She reluctantly set him in the water and tugged on the line, relieved when he paddled beside her. “Good boy!”

  They started walking again. It was easier moving without the dog in her arms, but the frigid water now crept up her thighs. She waded faster, forcing herself to breathe deeply despite the chills ravaging her body.

  But God, it was cold. And the river was wider than she’d thought. For an eternity, she trudged behind Cade, slipping and splashing over the rocks, her teeth chattering nonstop. Then the water lapped her waist, and she gasped.

  Cade stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She locked her jaw to stop the clacking and shook her head.

  He still looked at her. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m f-f-fine. Just c-c-cold.”

  “Hell.” He looked ahead at the bank. “We don’t have too far to go.”

  But she knew she was slowing him down. He was already injured—badly, she suspected. He couldn’t afford to get chilled.

  But the river kept getting deeper. She glanced at the bags dangling from his muscled shoulder. The bags with all their dry clothes. “Are you sure I can’t—”

  “I’ve got them,” he said, his voice hard. “Now get moving before you freeze.”

  He let go of the rope and hoisted the bags higher on his shoulder with his good hand. “You’ll have to lead,” he added. “I need to hold up the bags.”

  Too cold to argue, she plodded past him, then instantly slowed her pace. “Th-this is hard.” With no one to guide her, she had to work to find the best footing, especially since a mistake could jeopardize Cade.

  She stumbled, then quickly righted herself. It was definitely easier to rely on Cade, and not just to get through the river. She’d depended on him for so many things during their marriage. Companionship, friendship, love…Maybe she’d relied on him too much?

  Jolted by that thought, she stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “N-n-nothing.”

  “Do you want to wear my hard hat?”

  “I can s-s-see.” She forced herself to continue walking. This wasn’t the time to mull over their marriage. She needed to get them out of this river before they froze.

  And God, it was cold. Shivers coursed through her body. Her teeth chattered so hard she couldn’t think. She could only imagine how miserable Cade felt with his injuries.

  She slipped and slid over a jumble of rocks, struggling to maintain her balance. The current pushed relentlessly against her, and she had to fight not to float downstream. But at least the dog had stayed with her. She tightened her grip on the makeshift leash.

  Yards later, the rocks leveled out, making it easier to walk. But just as she started to relax, the rope ran out. She stopped.

  “Forget the rope,” Cade said from behind her. “We don’t need it anymore.”

  She looked up in surprise. He was right. They’d almost crossed the river. And the water had dropped to her waist.

  “You go ahead,” she said. “I n-n-need to un-t-t-tie the dog.”

  “Forget it. We stay together.”

  “B-b-but—”

  “Just hurry up.”

  Shaking, she pulled the dog into her arms, then struggled to untie the rope. Her stiff fingers couldn’t work the wet knot.

  “Take off his collar,” Cade suggested.

  She switched her attention to the buckle, but even that proved too much for her frozen hands. “I c-c-can’t.” Her desperation rose.

  “There’s a knife on my belt,” he said. “In the sheath. Pull it out and cut the rope.”

  Shivering, she released the dog, and he treaded water beside her. Cade turned to give her access to his belt. Still shaking, she stuck her numb hand into the sheath and grasped the knife. Then she pulled it out.

  And promptly dropped it.

  Oh, God. She stared at the water in horror. It was too dark to see to the bottom. She lifted her stunned gaze to Cade.

  “I’ll get it,” he said. “Here. Hold the bags for a minute.”

  She reached for the bags, then stopped. What was she doing? Cade was hurt. He shouldn’t be getting wet. And what if he bumped his injured shoulder? She could search for the knife better than he could. Before he could stop her, she took a deep breath and plunged.

  Completely submerged now, she groped blindly along the bottom with her hands. She felt rocks and silt, but not the knife. The current must have pushed it downstream. She rose, sucked in another breath of air, and sank back down.

  This time, she swept the area a few feet away. She crawled along the rocks, running her hands over the bottom. Suddenly, the back of her hand brushed the knife. Relieved, she lunged forward and grabbed it, then stood.

  Water sluiced over her face as she triumphantly brandished her prize. Cade took it from her shaking hand.

  “Hold the rope so I can cut it,” he said, sounding angry.

  She clutched the dog’s rope, and he sawed it off. “All right, let’s go.” He stuck the knife in his sheath and grabbed her arm.

  Blinking back the water from her eyes, she started moving. But she could hardly feel her feet anymore, let alone keep pace with Cade. She
stumbled, and he jerked her upright.

  “The d-d-dog—”

  “He’s coming. Now hurry up.” Cade picked up the pace and she couldn’t turn back to check. Dazed, her body convulsing with shivers, she fought to keep up.

  Seconds later, the water fell to her knees. Then suddenly, it was gone. Her teeth clacking hard now, she staggered across the dry rocks. Water squished through her shoes. The wind whipped her wet hair across her face, lashing her frozen skin.

  The dog trotted beside her, then paused to shake. Relief swept through her. He’d survived.

  She stopped, but Cade nudged her forward. “Keep moving. Over to those trees.” He bumped her again, and she stumbled up the grassy bank to a cluster of pines.

  “Stop,” he said. “Now start taking off those wet clothes.”

  “The d-d-dog…”

  “I’ll get him.” He dropped the bags to the ground, pulled out his radio and turned away.

  Too numb to move, she watched him stride toward the river. A huge swell of emotion overcame her, cramping her chest. His shoulder had to ache unbearably. And he was wet, too; he had to feel terribly cold.

  And yet, he’d carried their bags. He’d helped her to shore. And he still continued to work.

  Not for her sake, at least not anymore. No, not because of her. In spite of her.

  Because he was that kind of man.

  The lump in her throat grew thicker, and feelings she couldn’t name wadded her chest. “C-C-Cade,” she stammered. He paused and looked back. “Thank you.”

  His gaze stayed on hers for an endless moment. The night stilled, and even her heart seemed to cease beating. Then he nodded and turned away.

  Chapter 5

  The cool wind tunneled through the narrow valley as Cade tramped back toward the stand of pines, the wet dog at his heels. He’d radioed dispatch to give them his position and get an update on the fire. Unfortunately, their news hadn’t reassured him. The wind had increased and could switch directions at any time.

  The wind gusted just then, creaking the pines overhead, and unease spread through his gut. Crossing the river had bought them some time, but they couldn’t afford to linger. If the fire spread their way, sparks could blow across the river and torch the dry trees.