by Ariel Tachna
He heard shouts behind him, but he didn’t turn back. They could follow orders or come with him as they pleased. He intended to keep putting out the fires directly.
AN HOUR later, Thorne headed back to the firebreak to switch out the tank on his back. He couldn’t say he’d stopped the fire completely, but he’d done his damnedest to put a dent in it. The other Firies watched in resignation as he switched the container and turned back toward the open grasslands. He’d gone ten feet when someone grabbed his arm, spinning him around. His fists came up automatically, but he stopped the instinctive punch when he saw Neil’s face.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Neil demanded.
“To do my job,” Thorne replied shortly. “The fire is out there, not here.”
“So you’re just going to march out there by yourself with no backup? Are you bloody stupid?”
“I know what I’m doing,” Thorne insisted.
“And who’s going to explain it to Ian when you get yourself killed?” Neil shouted. “You’re going to make me walk into that hospital room and tell my best friend the first person he’s ever been interested in went and did something stupid and is laid up with burns or worse, and when that happens, I’m going to forget how grateful I am you saved his life and fucking kill you myself.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t let the fires win,” Thorne protested even as he reeled at what Neil’s words had revealed. “He’s lost so much already. He can’t lose his home.”
“He won’t lose his home,” Neil replied. “Even if the buildings burn to the ground, he won’t lose his home, because Lang Downs isn’t a collection of buildings in a valley. It’s the men and women who live there, who believe in everything it represents, and if you can’t see that, maybe you don’t belong there after all.”
“What?”
“I went to bat for you this morning,” Neil said. “I told Caine and Macklin you belonged on the station and asked them to watch your back the way they watch our backs. I told them I thought you could be good for Ian, but if you can’t see the most basic fact about who we are and how we work, then maybe I was wrong.”
Thorne had to stop and process that for a moment. He couldn’t believe his ears—first that Ian had said something to Neil about him, and then that Neil had translated that into the potential of staying at Lang Downs, of actually having a home again. It sounded almost too good to be true. More importantly, it was too much to deal with right now.
“Listen, the captain is being conservative. He’s trying to contain the fire instead of putting it out, and with a limited number of men, that’s not a bad plan, but with all the utes and tanks and men from Lang Downs, we can be more aggressive. We can put the fires out instead of trying to contain them as they burn themselves out. We couldn’t do it in the forest. There was too much fuel and not enough space, but the fires don’t burn as hot or as fast in the grasslands. They smolder and inch along instead of blazing up like they did yesterday. If we string a line of utes together and work our way forward, spraying down the flames as we find them, I think we can beat this thing. Just by myself, I was able to stop a section of it, but it’s too much to finish alone.”
“I’ll try it,” Neil said, “but it’s not my decision alone. Let me talk to the others.”
Thorne nodded and went back to his ute. He’d leave the foam sprayer there and ride out with one of the utes from Lang Downs. He could spray water from there, and he knew where the fire line was. He’d be able to get them there as efficiently as possible.
“You didn’t listen to your captain’s orders this morning.”
Thorne spun around to see Macklin coming toward him. He forced down his reaction, because Macklin didn’t look in any mood to deal with it, and Thorne suddenly had a reason to want to leave a good impression on the man in front of him.
“They weren’t good orders,” Thorne replied.
“Maybe they weren’t, but you deliberately did something reckless on your own without backup,” Macklin said.
“And Neil’s already yelled at me for it.”
“And probably said more than he should have, if I know him,” Macklin said with a shake of his head. “His temper will get him killed one of these days. I’m not going to yell. I’m just going to say this: sometimes risks are necessary, but I can’t have someone on my station who puts people at risk by being reckless. There is a difference, and you’d better learn it if you plan on hanging around for long.”
Macklin’s words cut even deeper than Neil’s had. Macklin had the power to make it possible for Thorne to stay at Lang Downs with Ian, to give them the time and space to see if they could build something together beyond the frantic kiss they’d shared in the smoke the day before. Macklin also had the power to send him away and deny him that chance. He didn’t give a fuck what the captain thought of him, but Macklin’s good opinion was suddenly critical.
“I’ll be more careful,” he promised, “but I have a plan. An actual workable plan. Yes, there’s a risk, but I don’t think it’s reckless. The captain’s strategy isn’t working. We’ve got to try something else.”
“I’m listening,” Macklin said. He still had his arms crossed over his chest, nothing in his body language particularly receptive, but Thorne forged ahead. This was his chance to show Macklin he could think under pressure, that he could analyze a situation and balance risk and gain. He hadn’t done it this morning when he’d stormed away from the firebreak by himself, but he could do it. He’d done it for years with the Commandos. It was time to put it on display again.
By the time Thorne had finished explaining his plan, Macklin had relaxed and was nodding.
“All right, here’s what we’re going to do.”
Macklin outlined the safety guidelines he considered essential to the plan, all of which Thorne accepted. These men were Ian’s friends. He didn’t want to have to tell Ian they’d been hurt any more than Neil wanted to tell Ian that Thorne had been hurt, especially if Thorne could do something to prevent it.
Eleven
THORNE DRAGGED into the hospital after dinner, but while his body was exhausted, his smile was victorious. His plan had worked and the fires they had set out that morning to combat had been significantly reduced. They’d encountered a few areas where they hadn’t been able to get the utes close enough to spray the flames. Thorne had been all for going in on foot, but a single look from Macklin had quelled the suggestion before it could leave his mouth. They’d have to keep an eye on those spots to see if they burned out or if they spread back into areas where the fires were now out, but it had been the first day of what Thorne considered significant progress in weeks.
Even more importantly, Thorne had felt like part of a team again today. At the height of his career, with a team of men he trusted, he’d been one cog in an incredibly successful machine. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that feeling of camaraderie until he had it returned to him today. Macklin ran the operation with all the skill of any drill sergeant Thorne had ever known, keeping everyone in place, directing utes from one area to another as they encountered varying intensities of fire, and the men under his command had reacted instantly, with a level of teamwork and trust that Thorne envied.
It seemed Neil had been right. They weren’t some motley collection of jackaroos, no matter how much they might look that way. They were a team, held together by the year-rounders who hardly even needed to talk to communicate. He’d seen them react to a gesture, even to a look, and he knew that kind of rapport didn’t happen in a few days or weeks. It took years to learn to work together like that, years they had obviously spent together.
He wasn’t one of them yet, but they’d included him. They’d even listened to him when he’d pointed out problems in their approach. As long as he explained the logic in his suggestions, they were willing to go with them, only overriding him when the danger outweighed the potential benefits.
Neil’s words echoed through Thorne’s head again: “Lang Downs
isn’t the buildings. It’s the people who make it what it is.”
He’d spent the day protecting and being protected by those people, and he yearned for that to continue with a depth of need he couldn’t begin to plumb.
The key to that continued acceptance lay behind the door in front of him. Neil had made it very clear why they were so willing to accept Thorne as one of them. He’d saved Ian’s life, and that meant he deserved a chance at winning their respect and securing Ian’s interest. He only hoped he could be worthy of both.
He wished he’d had a way to clean up before coming to the hospital, but he hadn’t had time to go back to Lang Downs and still make it before visiting hours ended, so he’d just have to be a mess. At least he wasn’t sporting any new cuts or scrapes this time. He might be sweaty and covered in soot, but he wasn’t bleeding.
After taking a fortifying breath, he pushed the door open and walked into Ian’s room.
“Hi,” Ian croaked from the bed.
Thorne smiled. Ian no longer wore the oxygen mask, although it hung from a hook next to his pillow. He was wearing his own clothes today, and all the soot was gone from his face and hair, so they’d obviously deemed him stable enough to get up and move around.
“Hi, how are you feeling?”
“Better today,” Ian said. “I still get short of breath, but they let me off the oxygen for a few hours to see how I’d do.”
“I’m glad I’m here when the mask is off,” Thorne said.
Ian flushed a little. “I asked if I could wait until dinner to take it off so I wouldn’t be wearing it when you were here. If you were able to come, of course.”
“I promised, didn’t I?” Thorne said.
“Yes, but sometimes people don’t keep their promises, even with the best of intentions. Life sometimes gets in the way.”
Thorne wondered who had broken promises to Ian in the past and where he could find them to take the sadness in Ian’s eyes out of their hides. “Give me your number,” he said impulsively. “That way if I can’t be where I promised to be, I can at least call you and explain. It won’t be quite the same, but you won’t be left wondering and worrying.”
Ian gave Thorne the number, and Thorne programmed it into his phone. He swore nothing short of the apocalypse would keep him from keeping a promise to Ian, but if the unthinkable happened, he’d have a way to let him know.
“How was your day?” Ian asked. “Sorry, that was a stupid question. I can see by the soot all over you.”
“It’s not a stupid question,” Thorne said. “We had a really good day. The Lang Downs crew helped make a significant dent in the fire. There are only a few hot spots left burning where we couldn’t get at them with the utes. Another few days and the fires could be out.”
“Oh, that’s good news,” Ian said, looking crestfallen. The expression was so out of sync with Ian’s words that Thorne began to hope Neil was right. “What will you do then?”
“Go to Wagga Wagga for a day or two,” Thorne said. “All my things are at a friend’s apartment there. Walker said I could leave them there until I found a place of my own, but I don’t want to impose on his generosity, especially since he should be getting back from his deployment soon.”
“You’ve found a place, then?” Ian asked.
“Maybe,” Thorne said. “Neil and Macklin seemed to think I might stay at Lang Downs. If you want me to.”
“You want to stay?”
Thorne nodded. “I’ve been drifting since I left the army, not feeling like I fit in anywhere. I thought maybe the Firies would be better, that we’d be a team, but nobody really knows each other. They’re all volunteers too. They’re good blokes, but it’s not the same as being part of a team. Watching Macklin and Neil run the operation today, I was part of a real team again, and it felt like coming home.”
Ian didn’t say anything for so long Thorne started to get nervous. “Unless you’d rather I go. I shouldn’t have presumed when I kissed you, but you kissed me back and—”
“Thorne, stop,” Ian interrupted gently. “You didn’t presume, and I did kiss you back. And I wanted to kiss you again last night. This is…. I don’t do things like this, but that doesn’t matter because I’m doing it anyway. Yes, I want you to stay, but….”
“But?” Thorne prompted when Ian didn’t finish his sentence.
“But I meant it when I said I don’t do things like this. I’ve never had a relationship like this. Things weren’t great for me before I came to Lang Downs, and while they got better on the station, I never imagined I’d meet someone. I didn’t know about Macklin until after Caine came to the station, and by then, I was resigned to being alone. It’s not all that unusual on a station. But then Caine came, and Neil met Molly, and Kyle and Linda got married, and suddenly I was the only one not with someone. But I still didn’t think I’d find anyone. I’m not wired that way. Except then I met you.”
Thorne refrained from whooping with delight, but he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that,” Ian commented. “It looks good on you.”
“I haven’t had a lot of reason to smile in my life,” Thorne said, “but maybe that’s about to change, and you aren’t the only one who doesn’t know what he’s doing. I spent twenty years in the military straight out of high school. My last relationship ended the day I enlisted. It took us some time to realize it, but he went from being my best friend to being my boyfriend to being a total stranger in less than six months, and you’ve already seen how bad things can get for me. I don’t know how to be a civilian.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to figure it out together,” Ian said. “I…. I don’t want to rush anything, okay? We’re still practically strangers in so many ways.”
“Not a lot we can do besides kiss a little while you’re stuck in that bed, anyway,” Thorne replied, “but I’m not a horny kid ruled by his hormones. We can take things as slow as you want. I don’t know a lot, but being on a team of Commandos taught me one thing: building trust takes time, and no relationship can go anywhere without it. Right now, you have no reason to trust me and every reason not to. I hope that will change, and when it does, other things will follow.”
“I do have a reason to trust you,” Ian insisted. “You came after me yesterday when everyone else had abandoned me. Nobody else did. Just you.”
“Don’t agree to anything out of gratitude,” Thorne said immediately.
“I’m not,” Ian replied. “Really, I’m not. I was already thinking about you before all that happened. You can ask Neil if you don’t believe me. Seeing you coming out of the smoke to save me just proved I chose well.”
Neil had already said as much, although he hadn’t specified when Ian had expressed his interest. Still, it was good to have it confirmed.
“So when do you think you’ll go to Wagga Wagga?” Ian asked.
“Not until you’re out of the hospital, for sure,” Thorne said. “The last note I had from Walker said he’d be home by Christmas, but I haven’t been able to check e-mail recently to see if he’s got any updates. I’d like to see him while I’m there. He’s the only one left of my original team.”
“Where are the others?” Ian asked.
Heavy, humid air clogging his nostrils with the scent of death and decay, warning him even before he reached the squad what awaited him.
“Dead.”
Ian flinched at the tone of his voice. Thorne took a deep breath and tried to school his expression to impassivity. He would never feel impassive when he thought about the senseless deaths, but he could project it. Ian didn’t deserve the anger that still burned inside him
“My commander ordered me to evacuate Walker for medical treatment. When I returned to their position, they were all dead. Walker and I were the only ones who survived.”
“How do you even cope with something like that?” Ian asked incredulously. “I can’t begin to imagine how strong you are.”
Thorne didn’t feel strong. He felt miserably weak every time he thought about those deaths or any of the others on his conscience. His hands were stained with blood, and no amount of atonement could change that. He didn’t deserve someone untouched by those horrors, but he was selfish enough not to refuse when life handed it to him.
“You learn to live with it,” Thorne said when he realized Ian was actually waiting for an answer.
Images from his nightmare flashed before his eyes, the bodies lined up execution-style, and he grimaced.
“Or at least not to think about it,” he amended. “I still see them in my nightmares sometimes.”
Ian held out his hand and Thorne moved closer to the bed. Ian coughed a little. “Are you okay?” Thorne asked.
“Yes,” Ian said as he reached for a cup of water. He took a couple of sips. “I can smell the smoke on your clothes.”
“I didn’t think about it until I got here,” Thorne said. “I’ll bring a change of clothes with me tomorrow so I can change before I come in. I don’t want to set back your recovery. Maybe I should sit across the room.”
Ian shook his head. “I can’t kiss you if you’re over there, and I really want to kiss you right now.”
Thorne took his time leaning in to capture Ian’s mouth. Their first kiss had been hard and fast, rife with adrenaline and fear. Thorne didn’t regret it, exactly, since it led to them being here now, but he needed Ian to trust him, and that meant showing he was capable of restraint.