Smolde: Military Reverse Harem Romance

by Cassie Cole

  “Maybe…”

  “Maybe what?” Edwards demanded, eyes wild with fear. “Are you blind? We’re surrounded!”

  Foxy put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Insult Haley again and you’ll die with a black eye.”

  Edwards clamped his mouth shut.

  “He’s not wrong,” I said softly. The fires were burning so close that they were loud, crackling like a campfire. “I don’t have any ideas.”

  A silence fell over us.

  “You might have gotten away…” Trace said weakly. “If you had run out ahead of us…”

  I cupped his jaw and turned his face toward me. There was a lifetime of sadness and regret in his hazel eyes. “No. No regrets now, Trace.”

  His jaw hardened. “I don’t regret anything, Haley. Not one thing when it comes to you.”

  Derek dropped down next to me and held my hand. “My only regret was not meeting you sooner.”

  “I should have joined the Chair Force,” Foxy loudly announced. “Might’ve met you five years ago. But other than that, yeah. No regrets from me.”

  “I regret helping Commander Wallace,” Edwards said softly.

  “Now that is a regret worth having,” Trace said.

  I held hands with Foxy and Derek, and leaned my head on Trace’s massive shoulder while gazing out at the smoldering hell before us. It was peaceful when there were no more options left, and one had accepted their fate. Or maybe it was just peaceful being surrounded with three men who cared deeply about me, and I them.

  It was sad, in a way. I hadn’t gotten much time to get to know them. Really get to know them, beyond just a few weeks of sexy fun. I felt like I had a future with the three of them. I wished I had a chance to see where that would take me.

  If I survive this, I’m never going to take anything for granted again.

  The roar of the fire grew louder behind us. The sound of the wind and flames pulsed steadily, like the wildfire had a heartbeat. A living, breathing devil wrapping its fingers around us.

  The pulsing became louder, and louder, until it was a steady THUMP THUMP THUMP. I frowned. The sound was almost familiar. But there was no way…

  “Oh my God,” Derek breathed. “Look!”

  We all turned and gazed at the sky. A beam of light cut through the smoke, searching back and forth. The thumping became so loud that it was unmistakable. Moments later the wind picked up, swirling the smoke all around and then banishing it away in all directions.

  The helicopter descended into the clear air created by the downdraft.

  “It’s a helicopter!” Edwards blurted out.

  “No shit!” Foxy replied.

  The door opened and a rope ladder was tossed over. Edwards was pushed up the ladder first, climbing slowly on one leg, and then Trace put a hand on my rump and pushed me to go next.

  My ankle still ached, but I climbed the ladder faster than any training exercise.

  I was greeted with shouting and arguing inside the cabin as soon as I fell inside. “…can’t do it!” shouted the pilot.

  “I don’t want to hear that!” yelled another man over the rotors. “Hold us steady until every one of them is aboard, or I’ll personally stick my foot up your ass! You got that, Ramirez?”

  “I’ll try, but these updrafts are tossing us around like a boat in a hurricane…”

  I reached over the edge and pulled Foxy up next, and then Derek. Trace took up the rear, and only then did the other rescuer close the hatch. The roar of the rotors dimmed some, but not a lot.

  “Commander Callaway?” Trace said.

  I knew I recognized the voice. Callaway’s face was obscured by his helmet and headset, but it was definitely his slender frame.

  “Take us home!” he shouted.

  The helicopter banked, then climbed out of what had almost been our grave.

  43

  Derek

  If I get out of this, I thought, I’m never going to let grief poison my mind again.

  I saw it all so clearly there on the rocks, with no escape and death closing in. I’d spent so much of my life grieving for the mistakes of the past. Letting myself feel guilty for the deaths of others. It was important to learn from mistakes, to grow from them. But I couldn’t let them destroy me.

  Wallace being my Commander at McCall, and then Redding, certainly hadn’t helped things. But if I got out of this, I would make peace with it.

  I would learn to forgive myself.

  And then, as if my wish were granted by an invisible genie, our rescue arrived.

  I climbed the rope ladder, numb to it all.

  Commander Callaway was waiting inside, and the pilot was Ramirez, one of the spotters. None of that made any sense to me, but I didn’t really care.

  We’re going to live, I thought as I grabbed Haley’s hand and squeezed. We’re actually going to get out of this alive.

  Callaway passed out headsets for us to put on, so we didn’t have to shout over the sound of the helicopter rotors.

  “Sir,” Foxy said, “I’m so happy to see you I could kiss you on the lips. With tongue.”

  Callaway’s grin showed teeth. “You’d better not, Fox, or I’ll put you back in the fire to cook. I’m happy to see y’all too. More than you know.”

  “At the risk of sounding ungrateful, what are you doing here, sir?” Haley asked.

  “Was Wallace fired?” Trace demanded. “Were you put back in charge of Redding?”

  “Not yet, though I’m hoping that will change in the next few hours. It started almost a week ago. Ramirez there—” he nodded at the pilot, “—brought some unusual behavior to me. One of the other spotters was reporting a malfunction in the Sherpa spotting equipment, which was the potential cause of the poor drops. Or so they claimed.”

  He glared at Edwards, who seemed to shrink down into his seat.

  “Combined with what you told me,” Callaway said to me, “it became clear that something rotten was going on in Redding Base. Under my own nose. So I started poking around. I noticed other oddities related to Edwards and his spotting, always related to your jump team’s drop. It didn’t take long to realize he was communicating with Wallace. Taking orders from him all the way from McCall.

  “My intention was to gather enough evidence to bring it to my superiors in Washington. In the mean time, I made sure Edwards wasn’t the spotter for any of your drops.” Callaway shrugged. “Then we had the mission from hell—thanks to, you guessed it, shitty spotting on the part of Edwards here. Before I could react, I was recalled to Washington and fired. By then it was too late. Anything I said sounded like I was trying to make excuses for why our mission went so poorly.”

  “But how did you find us, sir?” Haley insisted. “Edwards claims our transponders were sabotaged.”

  Callaway grinned. “Had a feeling Wallace might do that. It’s a trick he sometimes pulls on the recruits at McCall during training exercises, and damned if he didn’t do it to you. That transponder system is new. Was brought in back in 2014. I had Ramirez pull out the old system, connect it up, and sneak into the gear warehouse to sew the old transponders into your PG bags. Just in case.”

  “I knew it felt heavier!” Haley exclaimed. “I thought I was going crazy.”

  I opened my own bag and touched the inside. Sure enough, there was extra stitching there inside the flap where an extra weight could be felt.

  I’ll be damned.

  “What happened to the Sherpa?” Edwards suddenly demanded. “Did the pilot survive? Is Markson okay?”

  Callaway glowered at him. “Markson was able to make an emergency landing on Trinity Lake. He’s alive, except for a bruised sternum from his harness snapping during the crash-landing.”

  Edwards closed his eyes. “Thank God.”

  “Yeah, thank God your sabotage didn’t work,” Callaway grumbled.

  Trace leaned up into the cockpit. “They let you take a helicopter, Ramirez?”

  “Of course. Wallace has every available aircraft in the a
rea searching for you.” Ramirez grinned. “Now, what he didn’t authorize was the detour I made to pick up Commander Callaway. That’ll be a surprise when we get back.”

  Callaway turned to me with a strange glisten in his eyes. “I should have listened to you, Sale. You were right about everything. Wallace has been pulling strings in Washington and at Redding Base all along. Working to make your life a living hell, and putting pressure on me from my superiors to be more aggressive fighting this damn wildfire, to the point that something went wrong and he could step in and take my place. If I had believed you from the beginning, and acted on what I knew, none of this would have happened. For that, I will always be sorry.”

  I clasped his arm and smiled genuinely. “Sir, harboring guilt for past mistakes isn’t healthy. I’m beginning to learn that myself. Buy me a beer when all of this is done and we’ll call it even.”

  “I intend to do more than that. We’re going to bust up on Wallace’s ass and get all of this straightened out. Trying to put my smokejumpers in danger?” Callaway made a fist and punched it into his palm.

  All of us nodded. Now that we were out of danger, we could turn our hearts toward the next emotion in line: anger.

  I can’t wait to see the look on his face.

  44

  Haley

  The flight back to base was quiet and calm, especially in comparison to the chaos of the forest fire. When we neared Redding, Ramirez spoke into his radio.

  “Redding Ground Control, tell Commander Wallace that I’ve got something he wants to see.” He paused, then turned to us. “He says he’s going to meet us on the runway.”

  “Perfect,” Derek said softly.

  I studied my lover’s face. There was a determined look in his blue eyes. Like he knew exactly what he was going to do.

  I held his hand. “Don’t do anything rash.”

  “I won’t,” he promised.

  I wasn’t sure if I believed him.

  We landed on the tarmac outside our barracks, where the Sherpas usually parked. Immediately, Commander Wallace emerged from the building and strode toward us.

  Callaway waited until he was halfway to us before opening the door. Derek hopped out first, then me, ducking my head to avoid the rotors which were still spinning down. The wind whipped my hair all around. I ignored it.

  Wallace froze in place. The four of us stood opposite him, all of us motionless, like we were about to draw pistols in a duel.

  “You look like you saw a ghost,” Foxy said.

  Wallace blinked and then a false smile appeared. “Sale! Hinch! Foxy! Donaldson! This is… Oh my goodness! This is incredible! You’re all alive!”

  “Not another fucking word,” Trace growled. “I swear if you say one more thing…”

  Derek walked toward Wallace. We all watched nervously. What was he going to do? Punch him? Try to kill him?

  We’ll stop him if he goes too far, I told myself, hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

  Derek stopped when he was right in front of Wallace. He practically vibrated with anger. I waited for his fist to flash, for the blow to strike.

  “I didn’t know your son very well,” Derek said slowly. The words became more clear as the helicopter rotors finished spinning down. “Henry Wallace was just another Private First Class in our Battalion, and he was only with us for a short time. But what I did know of him, I liked. He always smiled when he shook someone’s hand, like he was happy to see them. I remember his laugh. Henry had a deep voice, but when he laughed it rose a couple of octaves. Like an excited boy whose voice was cracking. We didn’t do much hazing in Bravo Company, but there was one incident I remember. It was in the morning before PT, so most of the guys—including the rookies—were taking their morning shower or morning shit. Someone tampered with the water intake to the bathroom and added dishwashing detergent. We locked the rookies inside. They started shouting for help, screaming that they thought they were under attack from chemical weapons. When we opened the doors, the entire bathroom was filled with bubbles. Coming out of the shower heads and faucets. Pouring out of the toilets as soon as someone flushed. Bubbles from floor to ceiling.

  “Most of the rookies were angry about the whole thing, but not Henry. We found Henry on the floor of one of the stalls with a case of the giggles. Laughing that high-pitched laugh of his while rolling in the bubbles. It made the other rookies laugh too. It was contagious. Soon all of us were doubled-over in the bubbles, laughing so much that our sides ached. That’s what I remember from your son.”

  Derek stared at Wallace unflinchingly. Wallace gazed back with a shimmer in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. For what happened to you, and for whatever my part in it was. Despite everything, I understand the despair and anger that led you to try to get me killed, because it’s the same despair and anger I feel in my own heart. I forgive you for it, sir. And I hope you can find it in your heart to someday forgive me too. Before you allow it to truly destroy you.”

  “Dude,” Foxy whispered.

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Derek’s forgiving him? After everything that just happened?

  Trace strode forward, pulled back a fist, and slugged Wallace across the cheek. The man cried out and fell backwards onto the tarmac.

  “I don’t share Derek’s Christ-like forgiveness,” Trace said in his deep voice. “Your actions almost got all of us killed. I’m going to make sure you rot in prison for everything you’ve done. Sir.”

  Wallace clutched his jaw but said nothing.

  Now that the moment was over, Callaway and Ramirez left the helicopter and joined us. “Ramirez, tie up Commander Wallace inside and then call the police.”

  “Yes, sir.” He took Wallace by the forearm and led him back inside.

  “What are you going to do about all of this, sir?” Derek asked.

  “I have some difficult phone calls to make to the Forest Service Headquarters in Washington.” He glanced at his watch. “Even if I have to wake up some people.”

  “Glad to have you back in charge, sir,” Trace said.

  Callaway took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know about that, Donaldson. I’m tired of all this. I’m long due for retirement.”

  “Retire!” Trace exclaimed. “What would you do with the time? Fish all day? Some men are cut out for retirement, sir, but you would lose your mind.”

  “I agree,” Callaway said simply. “That’s why I’m going to apply for the McCall smokejumping position.” He smiled. “Which, if everything goes the way it should, will have a vacancy shortly. That way I would get away from the stress of Redding Base while still getting to work for the Forest Service.”

  “Who’s going to run Redding Base?” Foxy asked.

  “Someone else,” Callaway said as he walked away. “But the important thing is it won’t be Wallace.”

  He disappeared inside the barracks.

  I threw my arms around Derek. “I’m proud of you.”

  He grunted with surprise. “For what?”

  “For letting go of your anger,” I said. “You’ve been so bitter about Wallace since we left McCall. You finally had a chance to let it out, and you forgave him. I doubt I would have been able to do that in your position. I would have punched him.”

  “Cheers to that,” Trace said, flexing his fingers.

  Foxy nodded at Derek. “Seriously, dude. That was some impressive willpower. When did you become so zen about everything?”

  Derek smiled. “Almost burning to death in a wildfire must have changed my perspective.”

  Foxy wrapped his arms around the two of us. “I’ll say. I know what matters to me, now. And it has a hot, tight little body.”

  “Why thank you,” Derek said.

  “I was talking about Haley!”

  Trace folded us into his huge wingspan next. “I couldn’t have said it any better. After two near-death experiences this week, there’s one thing in this world I care about above all else.”

  “Does
it start with H and rhyme with daily?” Foxy asked.

  Trace grunted. “I’m talking about my collection of vintage baseball cards. What are you guys talking about?”

  Together in each others’ arms, our laughter echoed across the tarmac.

  45

  Haley

  The police arrived by the time we had taken showers and changed into clean clothes. Edwards spilled the beans immediately, including giving the police text messages and email correspondence proving the conspiracy by Wallace to put Derek in harm’s way. Once Edwards and Wallace were gone, they took our statements too.

  We later learned that Wallace confessed to everything down at the station. I wondered if it was Derek’s story about Henry outside the helicopter that pierced Wallace’s heart, or if years of guilt and rage had finally broken him down. But once the heat of our own anger at Wallace had faded, I knew one thing: it was a depressing story. Wallace had lost his son in a foreign war. He would never see him again. That grief made him latch onto whatever he could as a vessel for blame.

  I tried to imagine myself in his position. Losing a loved one due to an organizational mistake. Not getting closure. Never receiving a body to bury. Being so angry and hurt and broken that I could never move on. Just entertaining the thought of it happening to me was enough to make me want to lay down and cry.

  Granted, I didn’t think I would try to kill anyone because of it. But I could see the root of Wallace’s desire for revenge, and I understood it. It made me pity Wallace.

  “I’m proud of you,” I told Derek again while we ate a late dinner in the mess. “The way you forgave Wallace in spite of everything. It was very big of you. Mature.”

  “I meant what I said,” Derek replied. “I can’t let guilt from past events rule my life.”

  “I’m glad you came to this realization.”

  “It hit me when we were on the ridge, waiting to die.” He got a faraway look in his crystal eyes. “I realized it was so stupid to spend so much of my time agonizing over the past. The only thing that matters is the present.”