The dogs perked and Timber gave a single woof. Cody listened; a car had pulled up outside. He’d done his annual road grading that week, and the weather had been fine and dry since. The road, while still rough, was at least passable for Cassie’s car.
He opened the door and waved at her. He was wearing an apron like the first time they’d met, although this one was plenty masculine, a simple square navy canvas.
As she approached, Timber and Diamond came flying past him, tails wagging, and Cassie bent to pet the dogs. Her face was hidden by the tilt of her head and the sweep of her blond hair. When she finally raised her face to look at Cody, he felt a twinge of foreboding. There was something off, a tension in her muscles, clouds in her green eyes.
“Come on in,” he said, shaking off the feeling. What she needed was a glass of fine wine and a bowl of fine stew and an evening snuggled together on the couch. Or better yet, in bed.
He pulled her across the threshold and paused there, wrapping her into a hug, which turned into a kiss. The heat between them rose, simmering, but there was a searching, desperate quality to the way Cassie kissed him. He felt the soft press of her hands cradling his face and the slight hiccup of her breath.
Eventually, she pulled away.
“Thanks for having me over,” she said.
Cody peered at her, wondering why she was being so formal, so polite. “You have an open invitation here. Come anytime. The more often, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
She dropped her eyes. Then she took a deep breath, sniffing the air. “You made moose stew?”
“I did. I know you didn’t enjoy hunting—and don’t say anything more about it, it’s totally fine—but I wanted you to remember some good out of it, too. And there’s nothing better than moose stew.”
She looked around, her gaze pausing on the set table, the wine glasses, the matching chairs. And her face crumpled.
“Cassie?” Alarmed, Cody took her hands. “What’s wrong?”
“I—I wish you hadn’t gone to the trouble.”
“You’re no trouble at all.”
“I have to talk to you about something, Cody.”
A peculiar feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, like a heavy stone dropped into water. Cassie’s hair danced gold in the rays of the late evening sun that spilled through the kitchen window. For some reason, the sight broke his heart. Maybe because he sensed Cassie was about to, too.
“Let’s have some wine.”
“No thanks.” She looked at him with regret. “I won’t be staying.”
They sat at the new table. Cassie paused for a moment and ran her fingers across the gleaming wood. Then she looked up at Cody, her green eyes fixed directly on his.
“I’m just going to say it. I got another job offer—in Atlanta, where my friend Abby lives now—and I took it. I gave my two weeks’ notice at KFLS.”
Cody felt her words like a punch to some tender place in his heart, a place he hadn’t known existed, not before Cassie had come swirling into his ordered life. It knocked the wind out of him, how much it hurt, and for a long moment he could say nothing at all.
“Cody?”
You gave your notice, he thought. Just when I gave you my heart.
“You’re leaving,” he said, flatly.
Tears sprang into her eyes. “I told you I would.”
“I thought we had more time.”
“It’s a big opportunity for me, and I’d be starting as a weekend anchor in a major market, which is huge, and …” She trailed off. Shook her head. “I was raised to put my career first, and I’m not going to let it be ruined by—” She paused. “I have to keep moving up if I want to make it. I’m sorry, Cody, but I have to leave.”
“Do you want to leave?” he pressed.
Her green eyes implored him. “I have to.”
But you don’t, he thought. You’re choosing to.
“I don’t get that, Cassie. You’re making a choice. I mean, aren’t we happy together?” His voice was choked. “I sure thought I was. I thought I was goddamned happy, and I thought you were, too.”
He didn’t just think it; he knew it. The way they’d made love, the intimacy they’d shared, the connection they felt—that wasn’t something to just be tossed away.
“I don’t think I have what it takes to make it here,” she said.
“I disagree.” But he could see that his views on the matter—the way he saw her, as a woman of strength and determination and forthright curiosity about the world—didn’t matter anymore. Apparently, only her career did. And getting back to her precious city living.
“Was I just something to fill your time until something better came along?” It hurt like hell to say the words, but he had to know.
“Of course not,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “Cody, there’s nothing better than being in your arms. It’s the only place I really feel safe.”
Then stay in my arms. Stay right here.
“Tell me you don’t love me,” he said.
She wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
“You bought wine glasses,” she said, smiling sadly at him.
“I love you, Cassie.”
There. He’d said it. He no longer had to worry about scaring her away with his overpowering emotion; at this point, he had nothing to lose—nothing, of course, but Cassie, who it seemed he was losing anyway.
“Cody …”
Her tone pleaded for him to make it easy for her to let him go, but why the hell should he?
“I love you,” he repeated. He wanted her to know what she was doing to him. To them. That she might be furthering her career, but she was ruining their happiness. “I’m not going to let you go without telling you that.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I’d better go.”
She stood and let herself out the door, closing it with a soft click behind her.
It killed him that she’d given up on them so easily. What they had was real. It wasn’t something you found every day. How could she not see that? Was she so blinded by the glitz of the city and the glamour of her career that the power of their quiet love, a river that ran so deep, just wasn’t sparkly enough for her?
He wasn’t enough. It had been his biggest fear going in, and her decision to leave confirmed it. Of course, had she chosen to stay, he still might not have been enough in the end, either. Love, sometimes, was not enough.
He sat for a long time at the kitchen table he’d bought for them, wondering where it had all gone wrong, and only stood when a timer went off in the kitchen. He turned off the stove and looked out the window into the darkening forest.
What a waste, he thought.
He wouldn’t throw away good meat. But he did uncork the expensive wine, take a long, bitter swig straight from the bottle, and then step outside and pour the rest onto the ground, watching as it gushed out in a blood-like stream and disappeared into the loamy earth.
20
Cody’s forty-eight hour shift was ending in fifteen minutes. He finished putting his turnouts into his locker and glanced at the clock, hoping there wouldn’t be any more calls. With the university’s classes back in full swing and the city flush with students, there were plenty of alcohol-related incidents that always seemed to happen outside of normal business hours, keeping the fire crews up well into the night. This had been a weekend shift, and Cody estimated he’d gotten about seven hours of sleep total over the past two days.
Worse, the sleep he had gotten was haunted by dreams of Cassie, by waking up in the middle of the night and remembering that she was leaving Alaska. Leaving him.
“Well, that was a pounding in the ass,” said Josh Barnes, approaching Cody from behind. “I can’t wait to get some sleep. After I feed the dogs, of course.”
“Right, you have commitments.” Cody thought of Josh’s sled dog team and the kennel he ran.
“One fewer these days.” Josh glanced around. “I’m telling you, dude. Women. They’re a complication.”
“Shannon,” Josh confirmed. “I should have known better than to date her in the first place. I ended things, and now Tom’s pissed, although it seems like more at Shannon than me. He didn’t want her dating someone on his crew in the first place, and especially not when she already can’t be in the same room with Dylan.”
Cody raised his eyebrows. This was news to him. “What do you mean—her and Dylan?”
Josh nodded. “I guess it was a long time ago, way before he got on the department.”
Cody remembered Dylan’s reference to broken hearts and wondered if he’d meant Shannon Steele.
“So Tom’s not happy with you, huh?” Cody asked. He loathed the kind of drama that was obviously going on with the ladder crew.
“He’s the protective big brother, you know? But at least he admitted I’d been honest with her about my intentions. And he knows damn well she’s a wild child.” Josh sighed. “Anyway, it’s just as well for me. Back to my dogs. They’re so much simpler.”
“Really?” Cody had to challenge that. He knew of the long hours, the grueling training, the bitter cold nights Josh spent racing. He often came back from his races frostbitten, and always came back depleted. “Running an eight-day, thousand-mile race is easier than maintaining a relationship with a woman?”
“In some ways, yeah.”
Cody shrugged. “Well, it’s back to my dogs, too.”
“What’s going on with you and Cassie Holt, anyway?” Josh gave him a sharp look.
“It’s over.” That was all Cody wanted to say, and even that was hard. He was grateful their shift was about to end so he could escape a long conversation.
“Shit, man. What happened?”
“She got a job offer in Atlanta. Leaves in a week.”
Josh shook his head. “That sucks.”
“I guess I should have known better, too,” Cody said. “Cheechakos.”
“Cheechakos,” Josh agreed.
Cody’s replacement firefighter on B-shift arrived with a wave and a hello, followed a minute later by Josh’s replacement. As they were walking across the parking lot to their trucks, simultaneous phone noises went off for Cody and Josh—notifications for text messages. Cody checked his and saw it was from the Search and Rescue coordinator at the Sheriff’s Department.
Damn. So much for going back to his dogs.
The message read, Troop of 10 Boy Scouts and 2 adult leaders reported missing. Last known location, Denali National Park, Riley Creek backcountry unit. Due back yesterday. All S&R responders assemble at SD.
“Oh boy,” Josh said.
The wilderness Search and Rescue team for the Nanook Valley was all-volunteer, so Cody didn’t have to go. However, there was no question for him: he always responded when called. So did the other guys at Station One along with Josh who were on the team: Sean Kelly and the ladder captain, Tom Steele, both came out of living quarters with their gear bags in hand.
“We doing this?” Josh said.
“You bet.” Cody kept all his personal S&R gear, intermingled with gear from the fire department, in a duffel in his truck. “See you guys there.”
As he drove, the throaty rumble of his diesel engine helped drown out his thoughts. So, too, did the diversion of a wilderness rescue. It meant he wouldn’t have to be at home, thinking in solitude, hating it for the first time in his life. Timber and Diamond had plenty of food and water and would be fine in their large sheltered run for a while longer.
At the Sheriff’s Department, about two dozen volunteers assembled in the briefing room. Quite a few were off-duty firefighters from other shifts or other stations. In addition, there were ambulance paramedics, police officers, sheriff’s deputies, civilian outdoor enthusiasts, bush pilots, and even a group of employees from the Golden Falls outfitter’s, who probably had the best gear of anybody.
“Here’s what we’ve got,” said the deputy giving the briefing. “S and R from all surrounding counties are coordinating with us because of the potential for a real bad situation. The missing hikers are ten Boy Scouts, ranging in age from twelve to fourteen, and their two adult leaders. They are not from Alaska. The group’s from California.”
Groans filled the room. Too often, people from the Lower Forty-Eight underestimated the rigors of the wild landscape.
“They flew in a week ago for what was supposed to be a four-day backcountry trip. They were due to report to the ranger station at the visitor center three days ago, but due to staffing issues, no one noticed until they missed their flight home yesterday. They have no radios, just cell phones. No signal out there, as we all know.”
The deputy outlined the plan. Those trained in technical rescue skills, like Cody, would be up in helicopters; the bush pilots would fly their own planes; and everyone else would be on foot, tracking and looking for signs of the lost hikers.
“Three days is a long time for a bunch of kids. This could be bad,” Josh said to Cody on the way out.
“Roger that.” Cody hoped like hell they weren’t going to find a bunch of dead Boy Scouts. That would be quite a story … which made him think of Cassie. Did she know about this?
He got his answer when he arrived at the Golden Falls International Airport to deploy by helicopter. As he walked across the tarmac toward the waiting helicopter, he saw a single news van behind the fence with its antenna raised. KFLS Channel Eight.
Cassie.
It was a jolt to see her there, with her sweet flip of blond hair and her curvaceous backside. Holding a microphone, she spoke into a camera. No other news crews were there.
Despite the knife-like agony of seeing her, Cody also felt a quickening of pride. Leave it to Cassie to scoop a huge story like this. And no wonder Atlanta wanted to steal her away.
21
“Fears are growing for the troop of Boy Scouts missing in the Denali wilderness. They were due back three days ago, and in that time they seem to have vanished without a trace—no cell phone calls, no sightings by other hikers. Search and Rescue teams are departing now with an obvious sense of urgency. The youngest of the boys is only twelve, and with nighttime temperatures already dipping below freezing in this Alaskan high country, there’s so much that might have gone wrong. Stay with us here at NBC Channel Eight, KFLS, for the very latest on this breaking story.”
Cassie waited until the red recording light was off before she set aside the microphone. “Let’s get back to the studio. We’ll edit on the way. I want to air this at five o’clock and send it on to national right away. Then we’re coming back to the airport because several of the parents are flying into Golden Falls, and we’re going to get their interviews before anyone else.”
“Sounds good, boss,” her cameraman said.
Fifteen minutes later, Cassie hurried into the KFLS studio building with the cut ready to air, looking for Steve. The news desks were quiet; Michael Driessner was off in a corner talking sweet to one of the college interns, and Cassie found Steve in his office. She knocked on the open door.
“Steve?”
“Yeah, come in.”
“We’ve got a massive breaking story,” she said. “I’ve already done an on-scene report and cut it. It’s being uploaded now for your review.”
Steve set down his coffee mug and raised his eyebrows. “And what is this massive breaking story?”
“Ten Boy Scouts and their two leaders missing in Denali, should have come back three days ago. Reported late last night when they missed their flight home to California.”
“Ten of them? How old?”
“Youngest is twelve, oldest is fourteen. The Sheriff’s Department just sent out helicopters. I’ve got footage of that, too.” And the rescuers. It had been a faraway shot, but she’d recognized Cody’s broad shoulders and shaggy brown hair from across the tarmac.
Steve had already stood up from his desk. “Good. Excellent. I’ll take a look at that cut now. How’d you find
out?”
Cassie didn’t want to admit the whole truth—that she’d been awake early and listening to the emergency channel on her scanner app, waiting to hear Engine One go out on a call, knowing Cody was on shift.
“Picked it up on the scanner,” she simply said.
“Does anyone else have the story yet?”
“I think we got the scoop.”
Steve beamed.
“I can stay on it, right?” Cassie said. “I mean, I know I’m leaving, but—”
“It’s yours,” Steve said. “Now get out there.”
I’m going to miss him, she thought. He’d been a tough but fair boss, with high standards and high expectations. You could still learn a lot from him.
“I’m heading back out to the airport now—some of the kids’ parents are flying in this afternoon, and I want to interview them.”
“Perfect. Okay, I want you in the field for the main news broadcast tonight. At the Sheriff’s Department would be best, where they’re coordinating. I want interviews with the search and rescue people, too. This might be picked up by national. It will be, if we do it right.”
Cassie felt a thrill at the thought. Her face could be on television and computer screens across the country in a few hours.
Then another realization crashed through her. He’s going to know where I am. Her hands tingled with the familiar beginnings of a panic attack. If this story went big and got onto the national news—and every instinct of Cassie’s told her it would—her face would be everywhere, and he’d see it, and he’d be in Golden Falls, tiny Golden Falls, within a day.
If she did her job well, Stalker Doug was going to find her.
“Uh, Steve? On second thought, maybe Michael should take this one.”
Saying it was like a poison pill. This was a big break, and she hated, hated, that the specter of Stalker Doug might steal it from her, like he’d stolen so much else.
Steve peered at her. “Why would you hand off the biggest story of your young career? This could make you. Where’s your killer instinct?”
True North (Golden Falls Fire Book 1) Page 17