Forged (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 3)

by Piper Stone

  “Funny man. Such a funny man,” Garcia huffed and gave him the finger. “Yeah, second time seeing her.”

  “Then she’s something special.” Stoker winked.

  “Look, the boy’s blushing!” Sawyer teased.

  “Our little boy is growing up!” Boone punched his arm.

  Garcia took a fighting stance, grinning as they all tossed towels in his face. “You’re not touching this one.”

  “Chicken.” Landen squawked and flapped his arms.

  “Yeah, it can wait. For a little while anyway.” Stoker shrugged. “Do what you gotta do. Besides, a second date is a step in the right direction if you ask me.”

  “Another funny guy. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Garcia growled before heading for the captain’s office. Yeah, he went out on a hell of a lot of first dates. Dating was a prelude to sex, at least some of the time. He chuckled to himself. As if he was some ladies’ man. Hell, he’d almost forgotten about the date. Tonight, he was ready for some company. Time spent would take his mind away from life in general. “You want to see me, Captain?”

  “Need your help with something.” Captain Phillips looked up from his computer screen.

  “Sure thing.” Inching closer to the man’s desk, he studied the various commendations on the wall. He realized he’d never paid much attention before. “I didn’t really know the full story about your background. You were a trainer.”

  The captain followed his gaze then raised an eyebrow. “I’ve handled every position and then some during my career. Taking an interest in boosting your career, Puevos? You’ve mentioned to me more than once you’d like to consider training.”

  “I don’t know what I want, Captain. I guess I’m trying to figure that out.” He walked closer until he was at the edge of the captain’s desk. He noticed several black and white photos, but the man holding the various plaques was Scully Phillips. They never used his first name given his position, but the man would and had jumped into any dangerous situation right beside them. The captain was just as qualified for field work as the rest of them. Still, the respect for the man as well as his position was solid. “You’ve had a lot of awards over the years.”

  “A few, yes. I’ll tell you about them sometime.”

  Garcia nodded and glanced down at the captain’s desk. He’d been around the team long enough to notice official county memos. “I’d like that.”

  Shoving the memo under a pile of papers, he eyed Garcia up and down. “You did good yesterday, even though you could have gotten yourself and Stoker killed in the process.”

  “We had to react.”

  “You could have waited for the fire department to do their jobs.”

  Surprised at the captain’s reaction, he narrowed his eyes. “Then a man would have died. Animals would have perished.”

  “Sometimes that happens, son.”

  “Then what would you have done?” Garcia heard the distinct edge in his voice.

  Captain Phillips rose to his feet. “Same damn thing. But you already knew that before you asked. You’re challenging not only yourself but your beliefs as of late. Is there anything I should know about?”

  “Is that why you called me in here, to chastise my behavior?”

  Holding up his hands, he remained unblinking. “I called you in here because I checked what training you’ve handled in the past. You have certain qualifications.”

  “Not in smokejumping.”

  “Safety. About fires. The basics, which are vital in any arena.” The captain rubbed his eyes.

  “Yes, that’s true but it was a very limited course and for novices.” Where was this going? “But yeah, I used to love to teach, which is why I asked you questions.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Cooper had an event scheduled for tomorrow, but he’s booked as the lead trainer regarding the new parachutes and some other operational issues that he needs to be on point with. So, I need you to step in.”

  “Step in?” Garcia asked.

  “Don’t worry. You won’t miss more than an hour of the required training schedule.”

  His eyes opening wide, Garcia nodded. Now, the training was required, but by whom? “Can I ask you a question, sir?”

  “Sure. Why the hell not?” Folding his arms, he sat on the edge of his desk.

  “Are we in trouble?”

  “Meaning what?”

  Garcia noticed several of the team walking past, their faces solemn. “We don’t have enough men on the team and from what I understand, there’s no money in the city’s budget to get any additional help. That has to concern somebody on the city council.”

  Captain Phillips sucked in his breath. “What are you trying to insinuate, Puevos?”

  “I’m not insinuating anything. I’m asking if the Jackals are done.” He could tell immediately the question disturbed his captain. The truth was hiding just below the surface.

  He waited for a full minute before answering. “I started my career in Oregon when I was barely seventeen. No one knows this, but I lied to get the opportunity to try out as a trainee. Barely made it, but I did, and I was so proud. At that time, being accepted as a member of an elite team was a big deal for a colored boy.”

  “I can imagine, sir.”

  “Not entirely certain you can. Times were different, but I was a kid with an attitude. I worked my ass off and I was lucky. Not a single member of my team gave a shit about color. They saw orange and red.” Captain Phillips smiled, his look faraway. “I’ve been damn lucky over the years and coming here, to this majestic place and working with the Jackals I consider a culmination of my career. There is nothing and no one that is going to break up this team while I’m here. However, our work is being evaluated by those who have no understanding of what it takes to be a smokejumper or a member of this team. I need your help with tomorrow. You’re the only one I can ask. Is that understood?”

  Garcia could read between the lines. “Absolutely, sir. I’d be honored.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Here’s the file with the directions. You’ll need to arrive by seven-thirty tomorrow morning and don’t be late. I hear the audience is very particular.”

  Garcia grabbed the file and took a step back. He’d been looking for additional direction. Maybe this was exactly what he needed. When he opened the file, he blinked several times. “I don’t understand.”

  “What’s not to understand?”

  “Kids? You want me to teach children?”

  The captain shrugged. “With all the fires started by teenagers we had to deal with in the summer, the entire City Council thought this would be a good idea. If all goes well, our course will become a regular part of every school in the county’s curriculum.”

  “You have to be kidding me. Why can’t…” He allowed the words to die off.

  “As you can imagine, this just might be a prized program developed by our illustrious mayor. I’m certain you’ll make our team proud.” Captain Phillips gave him a long look before moving back behind his desk. “And Garcia?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Don’t fuel the flames. I need all of you on top of your game.”

  “Understood, sir, and I’m happy to be a part of this.” He waited to see if the captain would elaborate or give any additional information, but he knew there would be nothing else offered. This was a political game and one he prayed to God the good guys would win.

  If there were any of those left.

  Laney kept her head down as she walked out to the parking lot. She was in no mood to stand through happy chats with the parents, pretending that all was right with the world. This time, her assistant could take care of the basic schmoozing. Even the thought of running into Troy didn’t calm her nerves. She’d been a damn mess all day, unable to think clearly.

  She’d run through every option regarding the flowers, but at this point, only one thing made any sense. The answer was too damaging to think about. The roses were already in the trash, waiting for the garbage man. Tonight, she’d lock h
er doors and plan for the future. Whatever that meant.

  After tossing her things into the backseat, she headed out, ignoring everyone who’d turned to wave. As she made the turn out of the parking lot, tears slipped past her lashes. She’d made a solid promise to herself that she would never cry again, at least not over her past, but she could barely contain her emotions.

  Missoula was home and the best place she’d ever lived. The city was gorgeous, the mountains providing an incredible backdrop. The people were so friendly, and the job was perfect. She was happy. Then why? Why? Didn’t she deserve a damn life?

  Her grip on the steering wheel white knuckled, she ran through the steps she’d done twice before, but it had been so long ago. Years. Fucking years. Stop. Think clearly. You can do this. The warning was clear, which meant she had maybe a few days. She’d call her contact. Could she even remember who the hell her contact was? A laugh bubbled to the surface. She really had turned into another person, believing all the bullshit.

  First things first. She’d forgotten dogfood. The best thing to do was purchase enough food for a few days so she didn’t have to go out. That would allow her time to plan. Then she could figure out the next course of action after talking to the only person who could walk her through this. Everything would be okay as long as she took the reins, planning out every detail. She’d been through this before, knew every aspect of how the situation would be played out. God, what a crock of shit.

  No one was ever going to get to her. Period. The tears abated, leaving her angry and bitter, the cold persona she’d adopted almost five years before now back in full control. This was how her life had to be if she even wanted the opportunity at moving forward. She had no friends, no family and no one would miss her. Except for your students. The thought sent a rush of pain straight into her heart. She adored the kids, loved every aspect of being responsible for them. They were her pride and joy, the children she would never have and…

  “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.” The harsh words reverberated in the small space. Sniffing, she wiped her nose and turned on the radio, making certain the volume was as loud as she could stand it. One thing was for certain. Topper would be going with her.

  She floored the accelerator, moving around the curves easily. Her heart continued to race as adrenaline pumped through her veins. She’d change where she went to the grocery store. No pattern. Albertson’s. She’d never been there. Making a swift turn, she heard a small clicking sound. Or maybe she’d just run over a rock. Fear gripped every cell, causing her to suck in her breath.

  Tathump. Tathump.

  “Oh God!” Laney snapped off the radio and while her mind told her exactly what she was hearing, she couldn’t stop. Not here on a two-lane road, a very deserted road and one with snow on the ground. So, she pressed on the gas, praying she could stay on the road. Within two minutes, she had difficulty steering and suddenly sparks flew out, the arc wide enough she could see them in her side mirror. Swerving, she noticed an oncoming vehicle and let out a blood curdling scream just as she was forced off the road. Rocks flew up as she skidded, twisting. Turning. Her car was moving toward the drop off. She was going to die!

  “No!”

  Whoosh! Slump!

  When her front right tire squealed then dipped, jerking her body forward, she panted and blinked, trying to focus. She was okay, managing by the luck of God to drive into a ditch. She eased back and blew out, trying to control her heartrate. When she looked in the rearview mirror, she almost panicked.

  A lone man was walking toward her, his big Dodge Ram truck parked less than fifty feet from her. She had to get out. Now. Fumbling, she tried to unlock the door as stars floated in front of her eyes. Oh God. Please. Please. Her hands were sweaty and just as she managed to swing open the door, the man was standing not three feet from her. “Get away!”

  “Whoa, girl. Hold on, now. You were the one who nearly ran me off the road.”

  She looked up and down at the man dressed in sweats and wrung her hands. “You were coming right for me.”

  “I was on the right side of the road. Perhaps the fact your tire blew is the reason.” Huffing, he hunkered down, touching her back tire.

  “Get away from my car!”

  He held up his hands and laughed. “I’m just trying to help. You ran on the rim. Hopefully, you didn’t bend it or there’s no way you can drive out of here.” When he stood he backed away, moving around the rear of her car. “That is if I can pull you out of the ditch.”

  She held her arms, trying to figure out what to do. There was no weapon of any kind in her car, except for the tire iron that he’d no doubt want to use. She was trembling, and light headed. Swallowing hard, she backed up, almost tripping over a fallen limb. “Shit.”

  “Careful. This is a pretty dangerous stretch of road. Open the trunk and let me see what I can do.”

  Laney glanced down at the other side. The car was firmly planted in the ditch. “I… I can get this.”

  “You can change this tire and somehow get yourself out of the ditch? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m trying to help.” He walked closer, holding out his hand.

  A single yelp escaped her mouth as she crowded closer to the front of the car.

  “I’m Garcia Puevos. I’m a smokejumper here in town. I’m pretty good with cars. I promise. Scouts honor.” Grinning, he kept his hand out, his eyes twinkling. When she hesitated, he shook his head. “I promise, I’m not some serial killer. Honest Injun.” He laughed, as if to ease the tension.

  She could see truth in his eyes and what were the odds that some jerk off would be coming from the other direction? “Okay.”

  “Okay then.” He waited then smiled again. “The trunk?”

  “Yeah. I’m getting there.” Her eyes never leaving him, she inched back toward the driver’s door, reaching in and popping the trunk.

  “This will take a little while so relax. Then, I have some rope and I think I can pull you out.”

  Nodding, she closed her driver’s door and looked up and down the road. Very few people used this section. Her choice today? Stupid.

  “What’s your name? I mean if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Mrs. Cavanaugh. Yes, Mrs.” While she knew the words were said with far too much exaggeration, she stood her ground, glaring defiantly at the stranger.

  “Would you prefer to call your husband? I’ll wait with you,” Garcia said as he placed his hand on top of the trunk.

  “No! Um, no, he’s very busy. Thank you. Do you have any credentials?”

  “Wow. To be able to change a tire or because I’m a smokejumper?”

  “Both. Either.”

  “Sure. In my truck. Do you have a first name? You know mine.”

  Laney stared at him.

  “All is fair,” he said, giving her a wink.

  “Debbie.”

  “Okay then, Debbie. I’ll be right back.”

  Lying wasn’t going to get her anywhere, but she couldn’t take the chance. She watched as he sauntered back to his truck. The man was whistling, which completely unnerved her. He was also incredibly handsome, boyish and she could buy the smokejumper story. Maybe he was just a good Samaritan after all.

  “Here you go. This is my badge from being on the fire department and my jacket, which has the smokejumper label.”

  “What about ID for being a smokejumper?” she asked after darting a look at both items.

  “Goddamn. You don’t trust anyone, do you?” he asked then snorted.

  “I have my reasons.”

  “We aren’t issued actual ID’s, but the badge you can’t get on the internet. Will that do?” Now, he was getting exasperated.

  Laney contemplated then nodded. “Okay.” She could hear him mumbling under his breath as he walked back to his truck. She didn’t care. Even if he was Garcia Puevos, smokejumper, that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.

  “All right. Let’s see what we can do.” He pulled various items from her trunk and crouched down by th
e flat tire.

  She watched him work, could tell he was skilled and had to admit, she was attracted to him. His dark hair and eyes, the olive complexion and his chiseled face were very attractive. Even in the wrinkled sweats, she could tell he had a nice body. She bit her lip to keep from laughing and moved back toward the ditch. The drop off was just through the trees. She could have easily been killed. The area was still beautiful, serene and one of the most peaceful locations she’d ever been to. Leaving would be difficult.

  Shivering, she eased back toward her car. He’d all but disappeared. Another round of fear settled in. This could have been a ploy. Gain her trust then kidnap her or worse. Noticing the tire iron on the ground, she bent down, wrapping her hand around the cool metal. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  “Okay. Let’s see if we can get you out of the ditch.”

  She swung around, holding the implement behind her head.

  “Shit! Okay, then. Let’s not get aggressive, Mrs. Cavanaugh.” Garcia backed away, his eyes locked on the tire iron. “Relax. The tire is fixed. See.”

  Darting a quick glance at the wheel, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

  “Let me take that. Okay?” He held out his hand.

  She eased the implement down, allowing him to take it. “I’m sorry. I just thought…”

  “I get it. You can never be too careful. I’m going to put everything back then tie a rope under your car, around the frame. Let’s cross our fingers.”

  Although three attempts were made, he finally managed to pull her car back onto the road. He kept the truck idling as he came back, the same grin as before. “There you go. You’re good as new. Well, you need to get a real tire, but you’ll be safe enough for a couple days. I’m sure that’s something your husband can do.”

  She wanted to tell him she was single, but what did it matter? She wouldn’t be here this time next week. “What do I owe you?”

  “How about a smile? Someone as beautiful as you has to smile.”

  Taken aback, she smiled before she caught herself.

  “That’s much better. You’re very welcome. I’ll wait until you drive away just to make certain nothing else is wrong. Okay?”