“They’ll be fine. They’ve been wet before.”
She secured the second knot and stood. “How about that sling for your arm?”
“All right.”
She grabbed the towel she’d used to dry her hair. “This is still damp, but it’s probably long enough for a sling.”
He slanted his head. “We need to bandage my collarbone first, to keep it in position.”
“How do we do that?”
He knelt and pulled two long triangular pieces of cotton from his first aid kit. “Here. Roll these cravats lengthwise, then tie the ends together.”
She knelt beside him and started rolling. “Like this?”
“Yeah, that’s good.”
When she’d rolled both pieces, she tied them together to form a long rope. “Now what?”
“Now we put it on.” He rose. “But I need to take off this shirt.”
She knew he had a T-shirt underneath, but the night air was still cool. “Won’t you be cold?”
“Not once we start hiking. It’s mostly uphill.” He fumbled to undo the buttons with one hand.
She stood. “Here, let me.” At five-nine, she was tall, but he topped her by a good six inches, even more with his lug-soled boots on. She reached up to unbutton his shirt.
The intimacy of the act made her face burn, and she kept her gaze averted. He’d completely undressed her, for goodness’ sake. Surely she could take off his shirt without falling apart.
Gathering her composure, she undid the last button and gently peeled back the shirt. The biceps bulging beneath his short-sleeved T-shirt caught her off guard. He’d always been strong, but years of wielding a chain saw had built real bulk.
But this wasn’t the time to admire his muscles. She set his fire shirt on his PG bag, picked up the rolled cloth and cleared her throat. “Okay, what now?”
“Now you tie that around my chest to hold my shoulder in place. Make a figure eight.”
“You’ll have to kneel down so I can reach your shoulder.”
He lowered himself to one knee, then helped her wind the cloth under one arm and over the other until they’d formed a figure eight. The resulting harness pulled his shoulder straight back. “How does that feel?”
“About right. Go ahead and tie it.”
“So, how did you get hurt?” she asked as she fastened the ends together.
She thought at first he wouldn’t answer, but then his head turned and his gaze met hers. “A snag fell—it was burning—and the rookie froze. So I pushed him out of the way.”
She paused to picture that, and her heart skipped. “You saved his life.”
He tilted his head, as if saving the man’s life were nothing, and shifted his gaze away. And once again, she glimpsed that part of him she’d never acknowledged, even though she’d always sensed it was there. His enormous courage. His loyalty to his men. And she knew without a doubt that he’d do anything to help them, just as he had for her.
Except the one thing she’d asked him to do—stop smokejumping.
A tight feeling gathered in her chest. “So, the tree fell on you instead?”
“Not directly. The branches just glanced off my shoulder.”
And nearly killed him, she suspected. “I see.” Her throat thick, she lifted the towel and caught it under his arm. So he’d nearly died saving his buddy.
Their gazes met again, and for a moment, she was lost in those vibrant eyes. And she saw the need in him, the desire to save and protect. But who watched over him? Who helped him in return? Even a hero needed someone to lean on, someone to give him comfort.
Someone like her.
Seconds ticked by. She inhaled his masculine scent, felt the heat from his body rise.
And a yearning swelled inside her, a fierce desire to caress him. To soothe the tension in that hard jaw and ease his pain.
But he wasn’t her husband anymore—because she’d left him. Feeling guilty, she straightened and pulled the ends of the towel to his shoulder. And felt the enormous strength of those muscles as she tied the knot on the sling.
He was tough, all right, and he was willing to bear the weight of the world. Including her.
But the one thing he’d asked in return—that she wait for him—was the only thing she couldn’t do.
And she still needed to tell him why.
Feeling raw, she stepped away and grabbed the leash. “I guess we’d better go.”
Chapter 6
The old mining road crisscrossed the mountain in a series of switchbacks as it inched its way toward the ridge. Cade led the way up the rocky trail, his headlamp carving a narrow path through the darkness. Breathing heavily, Jordan straggled a few yards behind him.
After listening to the chatter on the radio all night, he knew they needed to hurry. Come daybreak, the wind would kick up, and all hell would break loose on the mountain. He didn’t want to be here when it did.
But Jordan couldn’t hike any faster. He stopped and waited for her to catch up. Panting loudly, she staggered to a halt beside him, then braced her hands on her knees and gasped for air.
“How are you doing?” He clicked off his headlamp to preserve the batteries, then blinked to adjust his eyes to the moonlight.
“Fine.” Still breathing hard, she straightened. “But I can’t believe how steep this is. Every time the road turns, I think it’ll level out, but it just keeps going up.” She wiped the sweat from her face with her sleeve. “And I thought I was in shape.”
He didn’t want to think about her shape. He’d struggled to erase the image of her naked body from his mind all night. “At least we’ve got a road to follow. You should try hiking through the brush like we do on a packout. And that’s with a hundred pounds on our backs.”
“Your equipment weighs that much?”
“Usually more.” He’d once lugged a hundred and twenty pounds for twelve miles over steep terrain. But at least he’d been wearing good boots. He glanced down at her canvas shoes. “How are your feet holding up?”
“They’ll survive.”
He hoped so. Hiking on these rocks with thin shoes had to hurt. “Are you thirsty?”
“Not yet.” Her breathing still labored, she lifted her thick, wavy hair and bared her neck to the moonlight. Without warning, that image blazed hot in his mind, of her naked back, her long, slender legs, the provocative curve of breasts. His body went instantly hard.
Still connected to his makeshift leash, the dog lay down in the dirt beside her. Jordan let down her hair and bent to scratch him. “You’re such a good dog,” she cooed.
Her sultry voice plucked at his nerves. And more memories surfaced, of her whispering to him in the darkness. The heat as she moved against him. The feel of her soft lips on his.
She’d been an amazing lover. Sensual. Demanding. Hell, she’d been so damn hot that he still fantasized about her after all these years.
And that ticked him off. Scowling, he jerked his mind back to business—getting them off this mountain. He impatiently glanced at his watch. “The sun will come up in another hour. If you can last that long, we’ll wait and eat then.”
“I’m fine.”
She straightened, and he eyed the bag on her shoulder. “I can carry that.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got it.”
“It’s just going to tire you out.”
“Not that much. Besides, you’re injured.”
His stomach clenched at the reminder. Even after a handful of ibuprofen, his collarbone and ribs ached like hell—far more than they should for a minor injury. “A couple of lightweight bags won’t do me in.”
Her chin rose. “And I can do my part.”
He studied the stubborn set to her jaw. Her feet had to be killing her, but she intended to pull her weight. And no matter what she’d done in the past, that determination impressed him.
“All right. Just let me know when you’re tired.” He clicked on his headlamp.
“Are you ready?”
; “Yes.”
He continued hiking uphill, keeping his pace slow for her sake. She was a trooper, all right. But then, she’d always struck him that way.
Which had surprised him at first, considering how she’d grown up. The only child of a Coast Guard admiral, she’d lived in upscale communities in the nicest parts of the country, or in stately homes on base, whereas his family had eked out a hard-scrabble existence in the driest part of Montana, spending every cent they earned on the ranch.
And yet, despite her sheltered background, she had chipped right in, stacking wood and washing clothes at the cabin. She’d never made demands, never complained, at least not about the rough work.
The road switched back again, and he paused for her to catch up. “I’m fine,” she wheezed, anticipating his question.
He checked his watch and glanced at the patch of sky visible through the trees. It still looked dark but most of the stars had disappeared. “It’s almost sunrise. We’ll look for a place to rest.”
Knowing she was nearing her limit, he slowed his pace. A quarter mile later, he spotted a long, low boulder on the downhill side of the road overlooking the still-darkened valley. “This looks good.”
“Great.” Panting heavily, she staggered through the weeds to the boulder and sat. Still tethered to the leash, the dog plopped down in the grass beside her.
Cade followed and settled next to her on the rock. He swung the bags off his shoulder and handed her his canteen.
“Thanks.” She dragged in another breath, then tipped her head back and drank.
He turned his attention to the valley below them. He couldn’t make out any shapes yet; in the predawn light, the trees blurred together in an inky smear. But in the east, a finger of fire crept into view. Deep orange and red, it shimmered in the fading darkness. He stared at it, mesmerized by the sight.
“The fire’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jordan said.
“Yeah. It’s something to watch.” But it could turn deadly, especially when the winds whipped it up.
He shifted his gaze to the sky as the minutes passed, and watched it gradually brighten to blue. Smoke streaked the emerging horizon and mixed with the pink of dawn. Time ticked away, and the dense pines turned from black to dusky green.
And suddenly, he realized that it felt good sitting here in the forest, watching the sunrise with Jordan. They hadn’t talked, hadn’t needed to say one word. But even after all this time, being with her still felt right, like the natural place to be.
And no way was he analyzing why. He pulled out his radio and keyed the mike. “Campbell, this is McKenzie.”
He waited patiently for an answer. After their all-night fight, the bros would be eating and drinking coffee, fueling up for the long day ahead.
Trey radioed back seconds later. “For God’s sake, McKenzie. Are you still out here sloughing off while the rest of us do your work?”
“You call that work?” Cade scoffed. “Talk about slackers. A Girl Scout could have put out that fire hours ago.”
Trey made another rude comment, and Cade laughed. Despite the banter, they both knew he’d give anything to be on that line instead of nursing an injured shoulder. “So what’s the deal on this fire?” he finally asked.
“We’ve built a good line up the flanks, and so far it seems to be holding. But when that wind gusts up…”
“What’s the forecast?”
“Just what you’d expect.”
Cade’s uneasiness grew. “They sending a plane to do a recon?”
“Yeah, it should be up at any time. We’ll get some mud later, too.”
“I’ll be listening,” Cade said. “And make damned sure everyone keeps one foot in the black.” An escape route didn’t do any good if no one reached it in time.
When Trey signed off, Cade radioed dispatch with his position and asked them to scout for a clearing. If there was any chance of a blowup, he wanted to get off this mountain fast.
That done, he stuck the radio back in his PG bag. “You want to eat now?” he asked Jordan.
“All right.”
He slid off the rock and set his bag on the ground, then began pulling out food. Jordan knelt beside him. “I’ve got two cans of tuna, the beef jerky and instant coffee,” he said.
She pushed up the sleeves of her sweatshirt and unzipped her bag. “And I have some strawberry yogurt, two oranges, part of a loaf of French bread and some Swiss cheese and salami I bought at a deli in Missoula.”
He eyed their meager stockpile. Too bad he hadn’t grabbed a couple of fire packs before he left the line. That freeze-dried food would have come in handy. “I’m going to have some tuna,” he decided. “You want the other can?”
She shook her head. Her hair was still damp, but dry wisps brushed her face. She tucked the loose strands behind her ear. “How long will it take us to get to that road?”
“At least another day. Maybe two.”
“That long?” Small creases appeared on her forehead. “Then we’d better ration this out.”
The tightness inside his chest eased. Rather than panic at their predicament, she was taking it in stride. Far better than he’d expected.
“Why don’t we eat the perishables first?” she said. “I’ll take the yogurt, and I’ll make you a sandwich with the rest of this bread. It’s already a couple of days old.”
“Maybe half,” he said. “We’ll save the rest for later.”
“All right.” She repacked the remaining food in her bag and pulled out a plastic spoon. Then she took the bread from its plastic sleeve and split it in half.
While she made the sandwich, he took out his bottle of ibuprofen and downed more pills. Then he grabbed his map and climbed back up on the rock.
Jordan joined him a few seconds later and handed him the sandwich. “Thanks.” He took a bite as she settled beside him. The dry bread was hard to chew, but he didn’t care. By the time they reached Missoula, they would consider the stale bread a treat.
They worked silently through their breakfast, both too hungry to talk. Sparrows trilled in the pine-scented air. The valley brightened, despite the haze of smoke. Far to the south, the mountains glinted in the rising sun, their jagged faces stark above the rugged land.
“I keep forgetting how far you can see out here,” Jordan finally said. “It’s amazing. And we’re the only people for miles.”
“Yeah. I’ve always liked that about my job, jumping into untamed forests.” Wild, unspoiled places most people never saw.
Hell, he loved everything about smokejumping. The adrenaline surge when the siren blared. The rush when he leaped from the plane. The freedom of soaring through the air and the challenge of landing. He especially liked fighting the fire. Cranking up the chain saw and choking down smoke with the bros.
The job suited him in every way. And God help him, but he never wanted to do anything else.
He couldn’t. Dread crept through his nerves, but he tamped it back. He wouldn’t have to change jobs. Once his shoulder healed, he’d be back on the jump list, right where he belonged.
He finished all but a small piece of sandwich, which he tossed to the ground. The dog quickly wolfed it down.
Cade drank from the canteen, then handed it back to Jordan. “You’d better drink more water.”
“How much do we have?”
“Enough for now. I’ve got two more canteens in my bag.”
Her brow creased. “Can we give some to the dog?”
“Sure. We’ll refill it at the next stream.”
She tipped her head back and drank. The motion sent her hair tumbling over her shoulders, baring her long, slender neck to his gaze. His eyes followed the tempting curve of her throat to the swell of her breasts beneath the sweatshirt, then back to the moisture beading her lips.
He jerked his gaze back to the mountains and dragged in air. So ten years hadn’t diminished her attraction. That was his bad luck, but he’d deal with it. He definitely wouldn’t drop his defenses and let her c
lose.
Careful to keep his gaze averted, he spread the map across his lap to get his bearings. He studied it for a moment, then lifted his gaze to the west. Along the slope of the neighboring mountain, he spotted a clearing, maybe big enough for a helicopter to land.
But to get there, they’d have to dip into the valley between the two peaks. And if the fire shifted and spread to that next mountain…
His gut tightened. They could never outrun flames rushing toward them uphill. On the other hand, if the fire jumped the river, they weren’t any safer here.
“Are we still in any danger?” Jordan asked, as if reading his mind.
He couldn’t lie, not when both their lives were at risk, but he didn’t want to scare her. “We’re fine for now. They’ll send up a plane soon to recon the fire. If there’s a place for a chopper to land, they’ll let us know. We might not need to hike to that road.”
She looked down at the valley. “But which way is the fire heading?”
“West, mostly.”
“But it still could turn this way?”
“In this terrain, anything can happen.” He folded the map and set it aside. “But we’ll be all right.”
Her gaze met his and she bit her lip. He saw her anxiety, her fear, and despite his vow to keep his distance, something moved in his chest.
“Hey,” he murmured. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and his finger brushed her soft cheek. The early-morning sun cast a warm glow on her skin and played along the curve of her lips.
“Cade,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He slid his hand to her throat, tracing the delicate line, then cupped the nape of her neck. The feel of her skin made his heart jerk. It felt right to tug her closer.
“I…I’m glad you’re here.”
Strangely enough, so was he. He lifted his gaze to hers. He saw the trust in her eyes, and something else. The awareness that always sizzled between them. The heat.
His blood thickened, and he dropped his gaze to her lips. Her full, moist lips. It had been so damn hot between them. Would it still be the same?
Facing The Fire Page 7