Wildfire at Dawn

by M. L. Buchman

  Then she turned and Grayson was glowering down at her. Upset that Akbar had the anchor position? Apparently Grayson had figured out that was a position of strength and importance. Or maybe his brain was addled enough to decide it was a position of especial favor. He turned and went to stomp off.

  But instead of departing in high dudgeon, Grayson stomped on his own line. His forward momentum tripped him on the suddenly trapped line and he went down. He landed on his back and in moments was tobogganing down the slope head first and gathering speed fast. His ice axe remained stuck in the snow behind him. He hadn’t even been wearing the leash to attach it to his wrist as he’d been instructed several times.

  Laura barely had time to squawk out a warning before the lines connecting Grayson to both her and the boy snapped taut and jerked them off their feet. In a moment, the whole line was down. Out of the others, only the girl at the head of the line still had her axe in her hands, though she too was tumbling. Everyone else had been focused on roping up and their axes were now dragging along behind them, dancing about at the far end of the three-foot leashes attached to their wrists.

  Laura managed to get her axe in position, roll, and dig in. But the group’s momentum was too much. When the line at her waist snapped tight, with the momentum of four people falling, all it did was flip her up and slam her down brutally on her back.

  She positioned her axe, repeated the twist and lunge. She saw Tiffany at the far end of the rope make the same effort. But again they were both snatched loose without any help from the other three.

  Kipp’s had a steep section that normally ended in an easy run out. Now, in mid-summer, it ended in a boulder field.

  She was readying herself to try again when something came flashing toward her.

  Akbar, down on his belly, arms and legs up as if he was a gull flying down the slope.

  “On three!” he shouted at her as he came close.

  She got her axe in position.

  “One!” he pulled even with her.

  “Two!” he was past her, snagged the line, and slammed it into a carabineer clip on his harness.

  “Three!” In unison, they rolled, dug in their axe points, were flipped belly down, and then dug in their feet and leaned their shoulders into the ice axe handles.

  The rope snapped taught, slammed the harness into her gut.

  She let out a yell of rage from somewhere deep inside and managed to hang on.

  She and Akbar dragged to a halt and the rope jerked hard again, then they were still.

  Laura was almost sick with the pain of where the harness had cut into her. She kept her face down in the snow for a moment.

  “You okay?” he was close, so close. And she’d never been so glad to hear anyone’s voice.

  She managed a nod.

  “You got the anchor?”

  She pulled her face out of the snow and looked around. His face was bloody from dozens of small ice nicks.

  “You gotta be more careful about how you shave.”

  He raised a hand to his face and then inspected the dots of blood on his palm. Then he smiled at her. She felt the warmth wash away some of the chill of pending disaster.

  “At least your pretty face is fine.”

  “Rest of me feels like shit.”

  “You got the anchor?” he repeated his question. He’d done exactly as she would have, given her a moment to recover before returning to the urgent question.

  She looked around to assess the situation. She had to squint because the sun was blinding on the snow; who knew where her sunglasses had gotten to. Tiffany and her dad had managed to plant their ice axes well enough to keep them and the young boy off the rocks. The boy and the father looked about ready to have a breakdown. Tiffany was getting her brother to plant his ice axe and take some of the load.

  “Think I’ll offer that girl a job as junior trail guide.”

  Akbar nodded, still waiting. Still dug in.

  Grayson wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She became aware of the tension still on the line attached to the harness digging into her gut. There was slack in the boy’s rope, so she had all of Grayson’s weight, wherever he was. Probably down a crevasse or a melt out hole. They’d fallen much farther down the slope than she’d ever intended to bring the group. She could just see the other four members of the group still perched at the top of the slope exactly where she’d left them.

  “I told them to dig in and not move until I came back for them.”

  “Yes,” she focused back on Akbar. A man who seemed to do everything perfectly. “Yes. I confirm I have the anchor.”

  Akbar gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder and eased off the rope slowly. The load on her increased, but she could hold it, no longer having to fight the momentum of the racing slide.

  “You three hang on there, okay?” Akbar shouted over to the family. “You’re doing great! Awesome job, Tiffany. You were right on the ball.”

  Laura put her face back in the snow. The man had saved them, and was now proving he was great with kids. What couldn’t he do?

  # # #

  Akbar sidled down the slope working his way along the line but being careful not to touch it. He didn’t doubt Laura’s ability to hold twice her weight, but he certainly didn’t trust the summer snow.

  Sure enough, he found Grayson dangling in a crevice. It wasn’t actually a glacial crevasse, one of the great openings in the ice that swallowed whole hiking parties never to be seen again. Grayson had broken through the upper crust and plunged down among boulders. He was partially submerged in an icy stream under the snow. He was flailing around languidly, bleeding heavily from the nose and one of his legs didn’t look right.

  Akbar shouted down to him, and received no reply.

  He pulled out his radio. Within moments, the Lodge had a couple ski patrollers headed his way, then he asked for a patch-through to Henderson. Mark picked up in seconds.

  “Hey, Akbar. Thought you’d be taking the day off with some pretty lady.”

  “I am. But her idea of fun is a little out there from my usual. Any of the pilots around?”

  “Jeannie’s here.”

  “Good, can you send her to the middle of Kipp’s Run at Timberline Lodge Ski Area?”

  “Sure. Right away?”

  “Soon would be good,” he kept his tone as casual as he could, all easy-going and buddy-buddy. “Oh, and would you mind having her bring an evac basket on a long line.”

  “Airborne in three,” was Henderson’s snapped out response. He’d never thought about the fun of harassing the ICA, but becoming the lead smokie just two months before hadn’t come with a list of all the perks. He’d just found a new one.

  Akbar checked upslope. Laura had the kids and the father all under control, keeping them well anchored. Grayson’s situation wasn’t going to get any worse.

  Barely a minute later the first ski patroller arrived. She gathered up the four adults at the top of the slope where Akbar had forbidden them to move before he’d dropped his anchor point on the line and headed downslope.

  Two more patrollers arrived right behind the first, coming down to the middle of the slope. They set up a relief on the line to get Laura off-anchor, though she stayed planted as a safety. Then they drove down a couple of snow anchors and tied the family off as well. They copied Laura and stayed carefully planted.

  By the time the patrol had rigged another line and were lowering Akbar down to Grayson’s position, he could hear the pounding of the approaching chopper. They were less than ten minutes flying time from MHA’s air field.

  Grayson was conscious now, swearing up a storm and threatening lawsuits that thankfully couldn’t be heard beyond the confines of his hole in the snow.

  “Hey!” Akbar considered cutting the line and letting him fall down wherever the stream disappeared to back under the snow.

  Grayson’s invective was heating up. Sick of it, Akbar pulled out his knife and flicked open the long folding blade.

  One
good look at it mere inches from his face was enough to shut the man up.

  “First, let’s hope the man out there doesn’t sue you for endangering his children through your stupidity, because I sure as hell will stand witness for them.”

  The guy snorted again, restarting his nose bleed.

  “Second, you’re going to tip the lady big time for ruining her nice outing.”

  He went a little cross-eyed trying to focus on the moving tip of Akbar’s knife.

  “Third, if I ever, ever find out that you’ve told a single story that makes me wish I’d cut this line and let you fall, I will hunt you down. Or should I cut it now and save myself the trouble?” He shifted the blade toward the taut line keeping Grayson suspended above the rocks and mostly out of the rushing water.

  “Uh,” Grayson started nodding rapidly then moaned as that set up enough motion to bang his broken leg into the side of a boulder.

  Well, the nod was answering the wrong question, but the man had the idea loud and clear now. Akbar tucked the knife away with a quick flick and looked up to make sure no one had been watching his bluff.

  Then he got back on the radio and began guiding Jeannie on how to place the basket litter she was lowering into the hole. Once he had Grayson cocooned and strapped in, he snapped himself to Jeannie’s long line and let go of the ski patrol’s rope.

  After a slow and anxious minute jostling to one side then the other of the narrow crevice, they were clear of the hole. He shot a salute of thanks to the ski patrol and waved at Laura.

  The Lodge had an ambulance waiting in the parking lot by the time they arrived. Too many cars, so there was no open spot to land the chopper, but they set the basket down and got the jerk transferred. Akbar repacked the basket straps and detached himself.

  “You’re clear, Jeannie,” he called up on the radio. “Thanks. Have Mark send the bill to Grayson Masterson through the Lodge. There will be no problem with him paying it.”

  “Emergency Search and Rescue, we charge double.”

  “I’d go for triple, he earned it,” he let his droll tone explain how bad that had been. “You’re the best.”

  “Tell the guys that,” she was laughing. “Say hello to your girlfriend for me.” And she was gone.

  Girlfriend? The small crowd that had gathered just as quickly dispersed, leaving Akbar at something of a loss. He found a stone patio at the back of the Lodge that offered a spectacular view of the squared-off top of Mount Hood. He settled down on an Adirondack chair to wait for Laura to get her charges back to their rooms. The sun was warm and the chair comfortable.

  He’d never been big on having girlfriends. Women who he spent a week or even a summer with, sure. Not a girlfriend though. But when he’d seen her falling out of control toward the boulders, his gut had wrenched even harder than if she’d been one of his own team in trouble.

  He’d kept an eye on her as he yelled at his own ropemates to dig in, dropped his end of the rope, and raced down the slope toward her. She was a woman of action who didn’t know how to give up even though she was thrown down harder with each try. It’s what he looked for when testing firefighters, but he’d never before found it in a girlfriend.

  Two-Tall was gonna laugh his ass off, but Akbar didn’t care. An afternoon with Laura—even one as wild as this one—had been worth it.

  # # #

  Laura found Akbar asleep in the afternoon sun; he looked as comfortable as a cat. She generally went for the taller guys, and because she’d lived her whole life in central Oregon, they were mostly pretty conservative white guys.

  Akbar fit none of that. He was strong, funny, and had saved her behind. And the tourists. She hadn’t been prepared for the jerk to be stupid enough to ignore so many of her explicit instructions simultaneously. She’d have to remember that for the future. Remember it was okay to boot a tourist back down the chair lift because they were a safety risk.

  If Akbar hadn’t been there… She shuddered and pushed the thought aside. He had been. And together, they’d saved the day. Move forward from here.

  She sat in a chair facing his, almost every inch of her sore from the multiple attempts to brake the fall. She’d be hurting in the morning. Trail ride. She could ride Mister Ed no matter her condition. Besides, there was one name she could cross off the list. She’d offered today’s people a free ride tomorrow if they wanted it.

  “Thinking deep thoughts, Space Ace.” Akbar’s voice sounded slow, thick with his nap.

  “Thinking sore thoughts.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll have a nice tip to make up for it.”

  She laughed at him, “Not likely.”

  “Let’s just say that if he doesn’t want to meet me again at the bottom of a dark hole…” His grin looked evil and she decided not to ask.

  “I’m done for the day,” more like done in. But she wanted to spend some time with Akbar. Just him and nobody else. “Can I interest you in dinner?”

  His smile was slow this time, “I hear the Lodge has pretty good food.”

  “It does,” she acknowledged. What kind of alone time did she want with him? Not a hard question. “Or I could cook? I have a cabin about halfway between here and your airfield.”

  That stopped him. The slow smile went away, but it wasn’t replaced by a leer as she’d half expected after meeting him at the Doghouse. Instead his voice was soft. “You sure, Laura? Really sure?”

  She nodded, not quite trusting her voice. This wasn’t like her. None of this was like her. But she was more sure after seeing his thoughtful reaction.

  He looked up at the Lodge for a long moment.

  Laura was half afraid that he was going to refuse her. It was too fast. She was being wanton or needy or—

  “I wonder,” Akbar said slowly, as if testing the idea. Then he aimed that smile at her and she felt herself melt inside. “I wonder if the Lodge does take-out?”

  “Don’t trust my cooking?” She tried to feel offended, but take-out sounded wonderful.

  “Don’t want to waste one moment of an evening with you in the kitchen.”

  She smiled back at him. That too sounded wonderful.

  # # #

  Akbar followed her pickup about twenty minutes along the highway. It was a heavy duty with a mid-bed hitch that he bet matched a big horse trailer. At the moment it had a couple bales of hay which occasionally tossed little bits of dry grass at him in disdain of his own smaller Jeep.

  The first ten miles were winding their way off the high spot where Timberline Lodge perched well up Mount Hood’s southern flank. She pulled off on a paved narrow two-lane that looked deserted, maybe used by logging trucks. A mile in, she turned up a dirt lane completely overshadowed by trees. Another hundred yards.

  There sat the prettiest little log cabin he’d seen in a long time. It was built of well-chinked stout logs with a generous front porch beneath a deep eave. In all but the most slashing of northwest rains you’d be able to sit outside. A metal roof in a whimsical brass color rather than the more expected green topped off the picture. He won his own bet when he spotted the horse trailer parked alongside a tidy, steel-clad pole barn.

  They climbed down and met by the steps up to the cabin’s front door, but he wasn’t ready to go in just yet.

  “Mom used to guide from here, but when Dad got the job in town and she broke a hip in a bad fall, they gave it to me. We built the cabin with timber off this land,” she waved at the two-acre clearing. Some of it was a garden, but most of it was a horse paddock and the small barn.

  Akbar squatted down and scooped up a handful of the dark soil, soft and damp against his palm. Good stuff. He brushed it off on his jeans.

  “I winter the horses down here, summers up at the Lodge. We own twenty acres around. I’m buying a brood mare this fall if I can. Have to expand the barn next year.”

  Akbar was in love. There was a small creek nearby. He didn’t see it, but he could hear it. The trees were alive with bird life. The circular clearing was so
perfect that it looked as if someone had taken a cookie cutter to the forest then planted the cabin in the middle. The cabin was at the very north end of the clearing, so it would get sun much of the day from having the clearing to the south, despite the tall stands of timber that isolated it from the world.

  The trees. He itched to get in here with a saw. Douglas fir always had a lot of dead lower branches that clung on for years, and Laura’s trees were no exception. To help protect the place from fire, he would start with clearing the deadwood off the trunks.

  “What? Are you just going to stand there?”

  “Yes! This place is amazing, Space Ace!” He could see she was pleased, but he wasn’t doing it for that reason. It was amazing. This was the kind of place you wanted to take a woman to charm the pants off them, and here he was at her place. Turnabout might be fair play, but he wasn’t so sure he was ready for it.

  She led him to the front porch, raised a few steps off the ground. He could imagine her sitting here beneath the long eave on rainy afternoons with a good book. She set the take-out containers on the low table in front of a pair of Adirondack chairs just like the Lodge’s.

  “I stole a couple of their old ones when they were replacing them last season.”

  “Still look good to me. Shall we try them out?”

  “I’ve got to shower first. Wash this day off me.”

  Akbar tried to read the situation, suddenly a bit uneasy. Not a single thing today was going by any of his usual patterns and he was adrift without them. Had Laura just extended an invitation? Or did she merely want to take a shower? He didn’t know how to read her. With the women he found in town, the messages and intentions were clear. With Laura—

  She took his hand and led him inside. Okay, he liked that message. Inside the cabin was as neat as outside. The front half of the interior was a comfortable living room to the left and a really serious kitchen to the right. His mom would like this kitchen, it was totally different from their one in Seattle, but it had a good feel and a serious collection of cool kitchen gadgets.