Firestorm (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 4)

by Piper Stone

  Taking long strides, he moved over the fallen limbs and other debris. If the jumper had really found a survivor, there was little time to try and get the victim to safety.

  Wham!

  Huffing, he ducked as another limb pummeled to the ground, spearing the earth just to his right.

  “Goddamnit! Anyone there?” Riker realized any additional communications at this point was useless. Shitty fucking equipment. The smoke was acrid, thickening to the point he had difficulty seeing more than a few feet in front of him. Still, he pressed on, moving deeper into the trees. The wind whipped, forcing a shower of embers cascading from all sides. The only saving grace was the fact the sparks had yet to start any additional fires that he could see.

  Riker swung the ax, taking out anything in front of him as he trudged over and around, sweat beading into his eyes.

  “Stay there!”

  He heard Moose’s voice, the call directed to someone else. “Washington!” Standing still, he sucked in shallow breaths as he listened for an answer. Any answer.

  “Over here!”

  When the call finally came, he shifted his position, moving faster. His gut told him Moose was running out of time. “Shout out!”

  “Here.”

  Riker was closer. Almost there. The air around him was sweltering, the crackling and popping sounds echoing. When he could see a flash of color, he raced in the direction.

  Moose was hunkered down, leaning over a fallen limb, the oversized log massive in size.

  “What do you have?” Riker closed the distance, panting as he surveyed the situation. “Fuck!” The small boy was obviously unconscious, his tiny hands clenched into fists. By the boy’s side was a dog, his fur matted and covered in soot, his eyes wide with fear.

  “His leg is stuck. I can’t get him out,” Moose huffed as he placed his hand on the dead wood.

  The dog whimpered then let out a mournful howl.

  “Damn it.”

  Whoosh! Slam!

  As the earth rumbled again, he could see a line of fire, an intense blaze coming their way. “We have to get him out of here. Let’s do this.” Riker jumped over the log, crouching down and digging at the dirt. The boy’s foot and lower ankle were crushed into the dirt.

  “I tried digging him out. Damn shit is like rock,” Moose wiped his mouth.

  “We need to get leverage. Where’s your ax?”

  Bam!

  Another limb fell, hitting the earth with a hard thump.

  “I have it. We don’t have much time.” Moose yanked the ax handle in front of him.

  Pitching the chainsaw, Riker looked up and down the log. “Put the head right there and don’t do anything until I tell you.”

  “Got it.”

  Woof! Woof! Woof!

  The dog began to bark, jumping backward and forward, his mouth frothing from saliva.

  “It’s okay, boy. Hold on.” There was a snowball’s chance in hell at getting the kid out of here in time. The heat was suffocating, indicating the fire was engulfing everything in its path. He shoved the ax under the base of the tree, praying to God the steel was strong enough. “On the count of three, up and over.”

  Moose nodded and both men crouched down, preparing to use leg muscle.

  Woof! Woof!

  “One. Two. Three!” Grunting, he leaned into the ax handle, pushing. After a few seconds, he could hear the creaking sound as the log rolled just a few inches. “Come on, baby. Come on.”

  Both men strained, groaning as they continued to push, their feet now planted wide apart in the ground.

  “Aaahhh!” Moose hissed. “Move, damn it.”

  Woof!

  Wham! Whoosh!

  Another group of embers flashed down over them, this time several sparking flames. “Move. Move. Move!” Riker struggled, using every ounce of energy.

  Crack!

  The second Moose’s handle snapped at the metal tip, all the weight was put on Riker.

  “Fuck!” Moose screeched. “We can’t do this.”

  “We… will,” Riker continued pushing, his strength waning. “Dig. Dig!”

  Moose dropped to the ground, snagging the metal portion of the ax. He began to dig around the little boy’s leg, huffing as he struggled to free him.

  His entire body was shaking, and he could hear cracking sounds coming from below. If he lost the grip or if the ax snapped, the boy could be crushed. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his breathing. He could do this. He would save the little boy.

  “Almost. Hold on!”

  The sound of Moose’s voice seemed to echo, mixing with the hissing noises coming from the encroaching fire. Hold on. Please God, let me hold on. As the seconds seemed to slow down, all sound muffled, he opened his eyes and in those few precious seconds, he could see his little girl, his baby, Grace and her dancing eyes.

  “Clear!” Moose yelled as he took two giant strides backwards.

  Riker continued to keep his grip around the ax, his body now shaking violently.

  “Riker! All clear. Let go!”

  Grace. Baby! As he let go and eased backwards, tears slipped from his eyes.

  “You did it. Fuckin’ Jesus Christ. I don’t know how, but you did.”

  Woof! Woof!

  Leaning over, he panted as he tried to collect his breath. Reaching out his arm, he managed to give a slight smile as the dog nuzzled against his hand.

  “We need to get the hell out of here.”

  Riker looked over his shoulder before struggling to stand upright. The fire was only feet away.

  “Come on, Riker. We have to fuckin’ get the hell out. Run.” Cradling the boy in his arms, Moose took off running.

  Riker turned all the way around, studying the fire, looking the beast in the eye. He took a step forward, reaching out as visions of Rose and Grace flashed in front of him.

  “Run!”

  The call was haggard, the sound muffled.

  Woof!

  As the dog jumped up on Riker’s legs, the vision disappeared. Blinking several times, he shook off the intensity and homed in on the sound of Moose’s call.

  “Now!”

  He took off running, the dog closely at his heels, the fire spreading to trees beside them. As he jumped over a log and twisted, he could see the line of fire racing down a tree.

  Wham!

  Chapter 4

  “Welcome to Missoula, Montana.”

  Trinity heard the words, but her mind continued to reel from the vision. She was furious with herself that she’d fallen into the trap, allowing guilt and sadness to interfere with her life. After grabbing her bags, she headed for the row of rental car kiosks. As she stood waiting, she was drawn to the beautiful view outside the massive set of windows. The mountains were incredible, highlighted by the beautiful sunny day, not a cloud in the sky. Snow remained on the peaks and the dichotomy of colors from the pristine snow to the deep forest green of the trees was majestic.

  She certainly hadn’t known what to expect, but this was amazing. “Wow.”

  “They don’t call it God’s country for nothing.”

  Glancing toward the jovial voice, she found herself nodding as she slid her driver’s license onto the counter. “I can see why.”

  “First time?” the clerk asked.

  “Yes. I had no idea.” Trinity glanced out the window again, marveling at the landscape. This was completely unlike Los Angeles.

  “Then I’m happy to give you some ideas of where to go.”

  Trinity grinned at the perky blonde. “I’d like that.” You bet she planned on curling up by a roaring fire, drinking a bottle of wine, reading and cocooning, but eventually she’d have to venture out into civilization.

  “I have your rental and a list of fabulous places,” the clerk said as she handed Trinity a set of keys and a folder.

  “You are fabulous.”

  She stood staring at the massive, sleek, black truck for a solid minute, until the chilly breeze forced her to react. “What the
hell?” She checked and rechecked her paperwork. This must be Ana’s idea of shoving her out of her comfort zone. How in the hell was she supposed to even get inside the huge monster mobile? Groaning, she unlocked and opened the door, tossing her things onto the passenger seat and floor. After slamming the door, she walked around to the driver’s side. Opening the door, she huffed.

  Thank God, she’d worn jeans. Shaking her head, she glared up at the seat then down to her legs. She was tall, but Jesus Christ. Hearing a dark laugh behind her, she bristled.

  “Little lady, need some help?”

  She gathered a whiff of his cologne, rugged and exotic. No doubt she’d turn around and the man would be short and balding. “I’m fine.”

  “You sure about that?”

  The deep baritone was far too sexy, a slight twang, or what she’d call cowboy twang. Exhaling, she gritted her teeth to keep from lashing out. Then again, she must look ridiculous staring at the driver’s seat as if needing a set of stairs.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not a mass murderer or a Jehovah’s Witness either. See that wide silver border right there?” When she didn’t respond instantly, he chuckled again. “Called a running board. Thick and strong enough that drivers use it as a step.”

  Glancing down, she groaned. “I’m really not this stupid.” As she turned around, she was taken aback. The man standing in front of her fit the sound of his delicious accent. Tall, dark and handsome was just the beginning. She knew she must have acknowledged the fact in some manner that she was panting since he remained grinning. Wearing faded blue jeans, a T-shirt and leather jacket, his scuffed boots and large canvas bag slung over his shoulder could have garnered him a modeling gig.

  “Just not used to trucks. Really big trucks. I can see that.”

  “Very true,” she said then laughed. “Thank you. I appreciate the information.”

  “Sure thing, ma’am.”

  The cowboy was even wearing a black Stetson. At least she knew her cowboy gear given the modern western flick she’d been coerced into being a part of. His chiseled face and steel blue eyes were mesmerizing. A long, tall drink of water. Wow. If this was the kind of men in Missoula, she just might… A shiver trickled down her spine. No men. Still, a girl could admire.

  He tipped his hat and smiled after giving her a once over, his expression full of appreciation. “Forgive the forwardness. New in town? Visiting our fair city?”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  Lifting a single eyebrow, he nodded. “Let’s just say that I think the locals forget how incredible the mountains are. I can always tell a look of utter appreciation. That usually means the person isn’t from around here. Forgive my rudeness. Zane Grey.”

  “Trinity Hargrove.” She realized she’d used her stage name without thinking and cringed. When there was zero sign of recognition, she breathed a sigh of relief. “The locals don’t know what they’re missing. I’m used to seeing traffic, lots and lots of traffic and glass buildings as far as the eye can see. This is… perfection.”

  “Hmmm… Yes, I think you’re right.” His eyes never left her face.

  A flush of heat crept up from the swell of her breasts, rising to her cheeks. She squinted at the sun in an effort to hide her embarrassment. “I’m looking forward to staying here. Any recommendations?” Why was she trying to keep the conversation going? The man could turn out to be an ax murderer after all.

  “Let me think. You have to go hiking. There are dozens of trails leading up through some of the most incredible scenery. Beautiful with the various colors. The rivers are wild this time of year, but the water is crisp, refreshing, but if you’re into white water rafting, this is the best place in the world. I don’t go out to eat much, but Ziggy’s is a local bar and restaurant and Maggie’s serves up the best breakfast in town.”

  “Sounds amazing. Thank you.”

  “No problem. Sorry, I have to run. Sure, you don’t need help getting into that truck of yours?” Zane winked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Enjoy your stay.” He turned then stopped, shifting so he could look into her eyes. “If you get bored, stop by Ziggy’s tonight. I plan on having a beer or two.”

  “Ziggy’s. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She watched him walk away and for the first time in several days, she was able to smile almost like she used to. That was before life seemed to go to Hell.

  Grabbing the handle over the door, she planted her foot on the running board and hoisted herself up, successful after three attempts. Then she burst into laughter. A cowgirl she’d never be.

  Trinity checked and rechecked the address, comparing the email to her GPS. “This has to be it.” The small mailbox appeared new but the area surrounding the gravel road was all woods. As a matter of fact, there didn’t seem to be a neighbor within miles. Then again, the winding two lane road didn’t allow her much opportunity for sight-seeing.

  She read the numbers one last time before turning onto the driveway. Tall trees flanked both sides, various pines leaning toward the center. As the gravel crunched under the tires, dust flew up from underneath, creating a haze. She could just make out a small clearing up ahead. The moment she rolled into the space and directly in front of the small brown and beige cabin, she groaned. The small structure seemed more like a cape cod house from Anywhere USA than a vacation cabin in such a pristine location.

  Beggars were certainly not allowed to be choosers. After parking, she threw open the door and grimaced when she jumped down. She must look ridiculous driving such an oversized truck. Well, this was a new place and she was a different girl, at least for the time being.

  The moment she unlocked the door and walked inside, she grinned. The place was small, but someone had taken the time to update just about everything from the light maple wood flooring to the small but luxurious looking fireplace. Ana’s purchase had been a damn good one.

  Her eyes swept up to the second floor. From where she stood, she could see an alcove, complete with a bed and several book cases. Dropping her things, she explored. The kitchen was adequate, the bar top table positioned in front of a gorgeous bay window overlooking the back yard. The appliances were new and the floor a rich two-tone ceramic.

  The living room had an overstuffed couch and chair and a single table, all positioned directly in front of the fire. There was a bathroom, an impressive wooden deck and one additional room that served as an office and guest room. The alcove comfy and inviting, the master bath was adorned with a claw foot bathtub. She rubbed her hand on the side and closed her eyes. This might be the first stop, one long, hot soak. A few candles. Nice music. A slice of heaven.

  Fifteen minutes later she’d unpacked, placed her items in the bathroom and found the two bottles of wine in the small pantry. She’d even selected a paperback novel from the bookcase. Now, she could relax. What she’d also noticed was no sign of music, no television and after firing up her computer, zero internet connection. Even the bars on her cell phone faded in and out. She was effectively cut off from the world. Was that such a bad thing? Peace and quiet for the first time in months?

  Maybe…

  A glass of wine in one hand, the book in the other, she headed outside, just in time to catch the sun disappearing behind one of the mountains, shimmers sparkling on the snow-capped peaks. Inhaling, the scent of fresh air filled her nostrils, a light chill creating goose bumps. She slid into the weathered Adirondack chair and kept her gaze on the incredible view. This was home for at least a couple of weeks, maybe longer. At least there was no formal timetable, no real need to get back to her former life, other than the contracts.

  She thought about the next movie and in truth, couldn’t remember the plot or the cast. She seemed to go from one to the next without taking the time to plan out her next venture. Then again, she wasn’t the master of her universe. Maybe it was time to leave. The thought wasn’t new and certainly not because of some reporter. Acting wasn’t her life and never had been. What she wanted to do was f
ar more representative of the girl inside.

  The book in her hand was new. There were no turned down corners or hidden bookmark. There were no crinkles in the cover or any sign that the book had even been read. She thought about the realization as she read the back. The love story centered around a Colorado ranch, a former model and a mere ranch hand. A laugh bubbled to the surface. A simple life. How quaint and wonderful.

  Trinity took a sip of wine and settled into reading. Only a few pages in, she realized that she could write this kind of drivel in her sleep. And she had no doubt the author had made tons of money. She’d brought the laptop with her for a sole reason. To write. How many stories started over the last few years? How many ideas popping into her head at any given time? Hundreds. You can do this. You can write the next great American novel. She snickered at the thought. No, she wasn’t good enough, but perhaps one day she could be. Dropping the book on the deck, she sighed and crossed her legs. Two weeks or more of ‘me time’. Two weeks of quiet. Two weeks of… loneliness. Great.

  The bath never manifested but the pacing did. Back and forth. From one end of the tiny house to the other. Boredom had settled in and it was only seven thirty. The food in the refrigerator she considered rabbit food, no doubt hand selected by Ana, who hadn’t eaten a cheeseburger in most of her life.

  She stood at the front window, glaring out at the truck. No music. No entertainment. She was going to go mad. Her thoughts drifted to the sexy cowboy. Ziggy’s. An interesting name for a bar. A sexy man. An invitation. But had he actually invited her or just made a comment to be nice? Either way, the place had to offer up a better evening than the one facing her. If there was anything she loathed, it was being bored to freaking death. After one more look into the cabinets, she decided. This evening, she’d celebrate vacationing on her own. Tomorrow, she’d purchase some groceries that she could actually eat and resign herself to holing away alone. Very much alone.