by Anne Marsh
Katie stopped and dropped when she hit the top of the trailhead. Her calves burned, she had to pee, and the view was spectacular. That made her one for three by her count. When she’d parked her Kia by the trailhead two hours ago, she’d planned on a nice, leisurely hike. Since she apparently didn’t need to run a marathon after all, taking it easy was fine. Maybe she could also get some things straight in her head. Or walk long enough that the tired took over and her brain shut off.
She’d grabbed a couple of water bottles and her small pack with a bonus long-sleeved shirt because Kade had always insisted she travel with enough safety crap to play survivalist for a week, her sketchbook and some pencils and headed out. The first three miles, she set a nice, easy pace, focused on stretching out the kinks. Then she’d made the one-mile scramble up to the lookout point and broken out the emergency rations. Since her choices were a flattened PB&J and an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie the size of her hand, she liked to think she had her priorities straight. She went straight for the sugar.
While she munched, she stared out at the view. The Donovans’ base camp was about fifteen miles southwest, below a neighboring ridge. Imagining Tye there, going about his day, was all too easy. And stupid. Whatever they’d had going on between them was over. He might be there checking gear or working out with the guys or doing any one of a dozen things that didn’t involve her. At all. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to have gotten that memo.
She liked him. He was stubborn and opinionated and didn’t talk much, if at all. But his eyes said things and the way he touched her, all rough-gentle... yeah, she liked that too. She also appreciated his easy acceptance of her need to honor Kade’s wish list too. He had to be the only person who hadn’t told her she was crazy. Except for the sharks. He really, really hadn’t been on board with that part of the plan. She could feel the grin tugging at her face. Bad grin. They were over.
Completely, totally, until-hell-froze-over over.
Too bad turning her love for her bad-ass SEAL off wasn’t anywhere near as easy as turning a faucet on and off. In fact, she had a bad feeling she might not be able to turn her feelings for Tye off.
Merde.
She polished off the cookie and stared at the horizon. Which was why she noticed when the chopper went up. The Donovans ran a tight ship, with plenty of practice drills. She watched for a minute, but the chopper didn’t circle back over the base camp and unload jumpers. Instead, the bird headed in her general direction, before veering off and passing slightly southwest of her.
Falling for Tye Callahan would be a mistake. He’d made it perfectly clear that he was just passing through. Strong was a pit stop for him, but she’d made her home here. He also had that whole no emotions thing going on for him. For the most part, when it wasn’t pitch black and he wasn’t in the throes of a nightmare, Tye didn’t like discussing feelings. Or admitting that he had them at all. How could she even begin to imagine long-term with someone like that?
Unfortunately, she could. All too easily.
The wind had picked up in the last half hour, and a steady breeze kept her vantage point on the rocks from becoming too hot. She tilted her sweaty face into the cool air, and plotted her next steps. All she needed now was a pool and a bikini. And a hot cabana boy. Unfortunately, none of those items were available on this particular mountainside, just the small, rather scummy pond downhill from the lookout point. It was no four-star swimming pool, though, and she’d turn green at the very least if she went in.
Something tickled her throat and she coughed. Smoke. There was a burn ban for all park areas because of the summer’s dry conditions. Smoke had no business being out here.
She turned around and the reason for the chopper going airborne became painfully clear. Mother Nature had pulled a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on her while she navel-gazed and mainlined cookie. The air on the other side of the ridge had smoked up, like a really bad smog day, a brownish film obscuring the view. Smoke.
The mountain was on fire.
She’d read Smokey the Bear posters. She’d dated Kade. But, while he’d certainly talked about his job and she’d listened, she hadn’t taken notes. Or planned on reliving firsthand any of the fire scenarios he’d narrated. Merde. She’d signed the trailhead registry. Park service would know she was here and come looking for her. Right?
A puff of smoke, bigger, darker, hungrier shot up over the ridge and a small, glowing orange spark landed on the ground next to her.
***
Katie had hiked up to Black Ridge. When she hit the top, Tye told himself, she’d see the fire. Then, she’d have two choices: to head back down the way she’d come, or try the descending trail on the other side. The one that led straight into the fire. She was one of the smartest women he knew. She wouldn’t go that way. The unwelcome voice in his head, however, reminded him that sometimes smart people did stupid things. They froze when they should act. They ran towards danger instead of away from it.
He pressed his foot down hard on the accelerator. Just in case. He’d be there for her just in case.
The closer he got to the trailhead, however, the more concerned he got. The afternoon winds had kicked in strong, and embers from the fire’s frontline some miles away had ignited spot fires that blazed out of control. The last half mile, small patches of flame burned on both sides of the highway and everything kept getting darker overhead. It was like marching into Dante’s Inferno. If she’d come up this way, however, she wasn’t getting back down until the fire had passed over.
He pulled over at the trailhead, parking his truck in an empty spot next to Katie’s Kia. Four minutes to unroll the portable aluminum fire shield over both vehicles—because there was every chance they’d need a speedy getaway once they got down the trail—and then he was reading the trailhead register, checking her entry time. She’d been gone three hours. She had to still be at the top.
After a quick radio call to Jack, to give the man a heads-up Tye was going in, he hit the trail.
Four miles to the lookout point Katie loved, according to Kade.
Dear God. Let her be there.
The wind had picked up, lifting burning debris up into the air and moving it along. The fastest he’d ever heard of a crown fire moving was nineteen miles-per-hour, but a quarter of a mile was more typical. Tye eyed the treetops. Nope. There was nothing typical about today’s fire. The flames were moving like a fucking freight train, spurred on by the winds, and the fire line was likely no more than five or six miles away now.
And moving fast. Really, really fast.
The radio was crackling, spitting updates he didn’t need because he had a front row seat.
Hooyah. Shit storm ahead.
***
Fire traveled faster uphill than down. Katie also needed to move in the opposite direction of the wind. Right now. A spark floated lazily past her in the air, the orange bead looking deceptively pretty and slow moving. She could hear Kade’s lazy drawl in her head: if you see sparks in the air or hear cracking sounds, your ass is about to star front and center in a barbecue. It was too late to run. Based on what Kade had drummed into her head, the fire had to be less than a mile from her and people simply didn’t outrun forest fires.
She cast a look at the path she’d hiked up so recently. Maybe... no. Dying wasn’t part of her plans. All she had to do was keep her head and make good choices. It would be okay.
Unfortunately, her heart didn’t buy the power of positive thinking, hammering hard enough that the panicked thunka-thunk drummed in her ears. Grabbing her pack, she started moving. The air over the fire was brown from the smoke and, even without her body’s best efforts to hyperventilate, it was already much, much harder to breathe and see. She felt like she was stepping through insta-twilight despite the fact it was only afternoon.
The scummy pond looked damned good to her now.
She headed down the cutaway from the trail towards the pond, looking over her shoulder as she went. Doing t
his definitely wasn’t on her bucket list. Maybe she had enough time to make it back to the trailhead and her Kia. Maybe the roads weren’t blocked.
Maybe wasn’t good enough.
She hit the edge of the pond and hesitated. Shoes on? Off? Was she over-reacting? Was there another way?
“Keep moving.” The raspy, familiar voice made her shriek and whirl. Tye strode out of the pall of smoke seeping down the cutaway. Instead of his usual BDUs, he’d dressed for today’s conditions in khaki workpants and a yellow Nomex shirt. She recognized the hardhat and pack from the hotshot crew that visited Strong for R&R, but the sunglasses and steel-toed work boots were all original Tye. She wasn’t sure why she’d expected him to rappel into her hidey-hole wearing camo and a sniper rifle, but she had. Maybe that was just wishful thinking or just a flat-out bad idea. She was full of those today because right now she was wishing with everything she had that hiking had never even crossed her mind. After today, she was never leaving her couch. Or her house.
“Go,” he said, but she waited for him to draw even with her anyhow.
“You’re here,” she said. Something flashed in her eyes. Surprise? Tye didn’t know and now wasn’t the time to find out. He’d gone after her because Kade couldn’t on that bum leg of his. And because Tye would always come for her. No pun intended.
He shucked his work shirt and reached for her elbow, urging her into the water. She wasn’t dressed for the firestorm bearing down on them. She wore cut-off jean shorts, a fire department T-shirt, and a pair of hiking boots with hot pink laces. He’d definitely found his Katie.
She splashed into the water. “Are you on a mission?”
His hands steadied her when she stumbled a little, the water sucking at her boots. “You bet.”
She raised a brow.
“You,” he whispered roughly against her ear. “You’re my mission.”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Looked down at the pond water lapping around her knees as she slogged forward.
“We’re going to play this safe,” he said. “We’ve got a crown fire and a fireline moving in fast. There’s no time to run, so if you’re wearing anything made out of synthetic fabric, strip. Fast.”
“What you see is what you get.”
He checked the tag on her shirt. God bless the fire department for all-American one hundred percent cotton, and the jean shorts should be okay. “What do you have on underneath?”
“That’s one hell of a pick-up line.”
“Bra?” he asked impatiently. He estimated they had maybe ten minutes before they found out just how good their survival skills were. “If it’s as pretty as the other ones I’ve seen, you need to take it off now. The fire should pretty much pass over us in the middle of the pond, but if the heat gets bad, it’ll melt anything synthetic into your skin.”
She shuddered and thrust her pack into his hand.
“Keep moving,” he said. “Right to the center.” He added her pack to his, and drew her forward. She shimmied in an endearingly awkward move, yanking the T-shirt up to her neck and shucking the prettiest purple bra he’d seen in a long time. Grabbing the lacy scrap, he shoved it into his pack. It should be fine there and, if it wasn’t, then they wouldn’t be in any condition to worry about it.
The water got deeper and the mission suddenly looked more like a sure thing. Katie floated, breast stroking ahead him.
He paused and held up her pack. “This waterproof?”
She looked back and shook her head. He eyed the ridge. He’d make it. Popping open the pack, he took a quick look. Most of the stuff didn’t matter, but her sketchbook wasn’t going to like the submersion. He transferred it to the waterproof pouch inside his own pack and then followed her to the center of the pond. The muddy bottom sucked at his boots, weighing him down. Unlike Katie, he had just enough height to keep his head clear.
“Hold onto me,” he said and she did, her body brushing his. “I’ll hold right back as soon as I’ve got us covered,” he promised.
Moving quickly now, he popped the fire shelter out of his pack and yanked it over their heads as best he could, pulling his Nomex shirt over Katie’s head, creating a little igloo. He pulled her wet T-shirt up over her nose and mouth. Two layers had to be enough. It was cooler and darker beneath the shelter, but not by much.
“Face as close to the water as you can,” he ordered and her hands tightened around his waist. He scooped her closer, turning her so he had his back between her and the flames. The air heated up as the wall of flame moved closer and closer, lighting up their sanctuary. It sounded like a freight train bearing down on them.
“Don’t run,” he said. “Don’t panic. Thirty seconds. Maybe twice that. And then it’s over. If it gets really bad, I’m going to push you under.”
“That’s a lot of orders,” she said weakly. “And we both know I’m no good at taking orders.”
“Make an exception,” he suggested. She rested her head on his chest. He could touch the bottom, but she was too short. That was okay by him. He liked holding her. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
“Only good things?”
“I promise.”
She was silent for a moment. He rested his head on top of hers, drinking her in as he ran through the logistics of their escape in his head. He’d done everything could. All that was left was the waiting, praying and holding on. Funny how it all seemed better when he was doing his waiting with Katie in his arms.
“Tye?”
“Right here.”
“I don’t have a bucket list. It might not matter—” The catch in her voice had something long forgotten inside him turning over.
“It will,” he said fiercely. “You have my word on that, angel. What’s on your list?”
“Bora Bora would be nice. Somewhere tropical and hot without the flames. I’d like to walk down the streets of Paris in a pair of five-inch Louboutins. And—” She hesitated.
The fire got louder. They were either almost out of time or they were about to start the rest of their lives.
“Yeah?” he prompted.
“I’d like to find the courage to speak my mind. To say what’s in my heart.”
“That’s a good thing,” he agreed, brushing his cheek against her T-shirt wrapped head. He shifted his hand, readying for the back-up plan. If he burned, he’d have just enough time to shove her under and pray she could hold her breath long enough.
“Okay.” She sucked in a breath. “We might not have much time here, but I can knock that last one off my list.”
“Angel—” The fire lit up their Nomex cave. Show time. He sank lower, cradling her tight.
“I love you, Tye Callahan.”
He didn’t know which hit him harder—the fire or her words.
***
The fire roared over them, around them. Sucking greedily at the air. The water heated up and it was bright as day beneath the shelter and his jacket. Hot and then hotter. Her heart pounded and all she could do was hold on and pray. She wanted to run. To scream. To do something, anything but wait. She’d spent a lifetime waiting and she was so, so done with it.
“Shhh,” Tye said into her ear.
“Talk to me?” she gasped out. She couldn’t do this and yet the alternative was too awful to contemplate.
“Thirty seconds,” he said. “Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight...”
He counted down the seconds in a rough whisper, his voice a welcoming beacon in all that heat.
At seven the heat dropped abruptly and the light died down.
At zero, he stopped and listened. “I’m going to check it out. You’re going to submerge for the count of five while I look. If we’re all clear, I’ll tap your shoulder, you’ll come up, and we’ll move out.”
“Why?”
“Orders,” he said quietly. “I’m looking. You’re waiting. That’s how this is going to work.”
She wanted to argue, but it was a battle she wo
uldn’t win. Instead, she sank below the surface, his hand pressing down gently on her head, not taking chances. Three long seconds later, he moved his hand, tapped her shoulder, and she shot to the surface.
Twenty minutes after that, they were back on the trail, moving silently and quickly towards the parking lot. Katie still couldn’t believe how much those thirty seconds underneath the fire shelter had changed the world. Gone were the leafy green treetops and the dense undergrowth. Instead, crayon-orange flames licked up the tree trunks and little was left in the way of green stuff on the forest floor.
To her surprise, her Kia was fine. Not only had the fire not reached that section of the highway, but a shiny space-age blanket was layered over her car. She shot Tye a glance as he started pulling the shield off with his work gloves.
“You gift-wrapped my car.”
He grimaced. “I probably should have let it burn so you could collect on the insurance.”
Two hundred yards up the road, a column of super-heated flame rose overhead, debris shooting off like bottle rockets and snaking through the air. What had been a normal trail, an everyday highway was now an inferno. Although the asphalt itself wasn’t burning, everything on the southern side of the road was. Backlit by the blaze, two hundred foot pines went up in flames, adding more black smoke to the darkened sky as fire laddered up the trunks and headed for the dry canopy up top.
“So,” she said, fishing in her damp backpack for her keys. What did you say after a guy risked his life to come after you? She didn’t want to imagine hunkering down in that pond without him.
“You okay to drive?” he asked, ever practical. “It’s not too late to leave your car here and ride back with me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t chance it.”
“Right.” He opened her door for her. Shut it. Waited for something.
Merde. She had no idea what he was thinking.
Instead of trying to figure it out—because she’d already proved singularly bad at that—she turned the key in the ignition and got the Kia started. Tye tapped on the window.