The Cottage on Juniper Ridge

by Sheila Roberts

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A crisis often shines the light on our true priorities.

  —Muriel Sterling, author of Simplicity

  Garrett’s first reaction when the fire was called in had been fury. He’d bet a whole year’s salary that this forest fire had been caused by some careless camper. Now acres and acres of forest would be destroyed and human lives might be lost. The police would be busy evacuating everyone in town.

  Police? Shit! Tilda was off rock climbing with some of the guys on the force. They were bound to be caught up in this. Battling a fire was hard enough, but battling it knowing someone you cared about could be killed took superhuman emotional control.

  There was no time to worry about Tilda. He had to concentrate on doing his job, and right now his job meant working this section of trail, helping other firefighters make sure the fire didn’t engulf it. Their job was to keep it clear so the forest rangers who’d been sent to bring down stranded hikers from Aasgard Pass could get everyone to safety. The blaze was monstrous and it was like fighting a fire-breathing dragon.

  Fortunately, strike teams had been brought in from other areas to help, so they had more resources than normal. They’d taken the fire trucks up as far as they could; back in town, other firefighters did structure protection.

  Now Garrett and Paul Meadows, a fellow firefighter, were partway up the trail, trying to beat back the flames so a large group of stranded hikers could get out safely.

  It was hotter than hell inside his gear. In addition to his Nomex, he wore a hard hat, goggles and a bandanna, and his hands were sweating inside leather gloves.

  A retardant plane swooped over the blaze to the east, dumping a load of dirt on the flames and sending smoke in all directions. A flaming log came rolling down the trail, and Garrett and Paul jumped out of the way just in time. It stopped thirty feet away and they attacked it with their pulaskis. Where was the forest ranger with those hikers? They needed to get them out of here.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he caught sight of a ranger herding a very scared-looking collection of people down the trail. He scanned the crowd for Tilda. There she was, thank God, looking none the worse for wear. And walking between her and Cecily Sterling was Jen Heath. Jen? Garrett’s heart did a sick flop. Jen Heath had been up in the Enchantments? There was no opportunity to say anything. He had a job to do. But he wished that job included personally escorting this party down the mountain to safety. Right now, though, the best way he could protect them was to battle this fire with all his might. Oh, God, keep them safe!

  * * *

  Jen’s trip down the trail had been terrifying. Her throat was parched and she was so hot it was all she could do not to scream from the misery of it. The crackling of flames devouring wood and the crash of falling trees assailed her ears. She was too terrified to cry. She probably didn’t have any tears left in her, anyway. They must have all dried up in the heat.

  She saw firemen on the side of the trail dealing with a burning log. It was hard to tell under all that equipment, but one of them was tall like Garrett and had broad shoulders. She almost hoped it wasn’t him. Would he be okay? Would any of them?

  What felt like hours later, they finally made it out. A fire truck was parked up the road; firefighters were everywhere with their shovels and hoses. She felt as if she were in a disaster movie. If only they could fast forward to The End.

  The forest service had a bus waiting at the trailhead to take them to the ranger station. There they were greeted by a female ranger who gave them all bottled water. Water had never tasted so good.

  One of the little boys began crying from sheer nervous tension. “It’s okay, we’re safe now,” his mother said, holding him close. “Aren’t we?” she asked the ranger.

  “You’re safer than where you were.”

  “I want to go home,” the boy said, and began to cry.

  “I know, honey,” his mother said. “So do I.”

  “Can you get us back to Icicle Falls?” Cecily asked.

  The ranger shook her head. “The town’s been evacuated. All except the restaurant where they’re feeding some of the firefighters.”

  “Oh, no. Has any of the town burned?” Jen asked.

  “No, but it’s not safe to go back yet. We’ll get you to your homes as soon as possible. Meanwhile, we have sandwiches and coffee.”

  “Food, yeah. I’m starving,” said the skinniest of the teenage boys.

  They all gathered in a small conference room where a platter of sandwiches had been set out on a table surrounded by chairs.

  “I hope Sweet Dreams will be okay,” Cecily worried.

  “I hope my mom’s okay,” Tilda said.

  “She should be,” Cecily told her, “since they evacuated the town.”

  “She’d better have gone,” Tilda growled. “It would be just like her to stay in town and... Shit.”

  “What?” Cecily asked.

  “I’m laying odds that Breakfast Haus is the restaurant that’s feeding everyone.” She left the table and strode out of the room.

  A few minutes later she was back, and she didn’t look happy.

  “She’s the one feeding the firefighters?” Cecily guessed.

  Tilda nodded and blinked furiously in an obvious attempt not to cry. “I don’t care if she is my mom. When I get back, I swear I’m going to kill her.” She bit her lip and looked away.

  Too late. Jen had seen the tears. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Tilda just nodded.

  Several hours later, they were still at the ranger station. Jen had read every brochure there and had played countless games of tic-tac-toe with the little boy.

  She was studying a poster showing the different hiking trails in the national forest when the door opened and in walked two firefighters, fresh from the battle. Their fireproof jackets were grimy and the acrid smell of smoke preceded them into the building.

  One took off his head gear and gaped at her. “Jen, thank God.” She barely managed to stutter his name before Garrett crossed the room and pulled her to him. “Thank God you’re safe,” he said, hugging her.

  Safe, and in Garrett Armstrong’s arms. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face against his smoky, grimy chest. He was still alive! Even as she hugged him harder, she felt his lips brush the top of her head, her hair. Okay, next stop the lips.

  She had just lifted her face so he could kiss her where it counted when a voice from behind them said, “We’re all safe.”

  He gave a guilty start and dropped his hands like she was a hot cinder. Jen stepped away, her face burning with guilt. You do poach other women’s men, after all. You’ve been doing it all along.

  “Tilda,” he said stupidly. And then he went over to her and hugged her and told her he was glad she was safe. But it was forced; Jen could clearly see that.

  It was obvious that these two weren’t a match. And if they ever got out of this alive, she’d tell Garrett that.

  Meanwhile, Tilda was in no mood to share. She led Garrett to the room where the sandwiches were and kept him company while he ate. Next thing Jen knew, Tilda was talking with the ranger and then she was out of there.

  “Hey, how come she gets to leave?” protested one of the teenagers.

  “She’s police. She’s needed.”

  Where? There was no one left in town.

  Oh, except at Breakfast Haus. “I hope Dot’s okay,” Cecily said to Jen as they watched Tilda leave in the wake of Garrett and the other firefighter.

  “I hope Tilda gets to her okay,” Jen said. Much as she wished Tilda would drop out of the picture, she had no desire to see her turned into a crispy critter.

  * * *

  The fire raged for two more days and the stranded hikers found themselves stuck at the ranger s
tation. But at least there were bathrooms with soap and water. And there was food.

  Jen didn’t see Garrett again, but other firefighters and park rangers came and went, keeping them abreast of how the situation was progressing. She learned that the ranger station was one of two base camps, the other being a fish hatchery a couple of miles outside of town in the other direction. Some of the men actually went home to sleep, although they were getting very little. She hoped Garrett was all right.

  At last the fire was contained and the hikers were bused back to Icicle Falls. The whole town smelled of smoke, but the buildings were intact.

  “Thank God,” Cecily breathed when they got back into town. “It’s still here. We can borrow my mom’s car. I know where she keeps her spare key. Then we’ll go pick up my car at the trailhead and I’ll run you home.”

  Jen hoped she had a home to go to. Juniper Ridge was outside of town, and the fire had crept awfully close.

  Hardly anyone had returned yet, and Icicle Falls felt like a ghost town. “This creeps me out,” Cecily muttered as they walked past the deserted shops on Center Street.

  “It doesn’t feel like Icicle Falls without the people,” Jen said. “Or the flowers.”

  The lovely blooms that had filled the window boxes and hanging baskets on the buildings were now dry and lifeless.

  “The shop owners will plant more,” Cecily said. “Everyone will work as hard as they can to get our town back to normal.”

  It would take a lot longer to get the surrounding forest back to normal, Jen thought sadly.

  A couple of men in fireproof attire were going into Breakfast Haus on the corner as two others came out. “Dot deserves a medal,” Cecily said.

  “I’d vote for that,” Jen agreed. “Hopefully, her daughter wouldn’t kill her before the mayor could pin it on her.”

  Cecily smiled. “Dot does make Tilda a little crazy sometimes.” She stole a glance at Jen. “Not that it’s any of my business, but I got the impression that you were making Tilda a little crazy, too, back at the ranger station.”

  Jen felt her cheeks flush. “I don’t think Tilda and I are ever going to be BFFs.”

  “Could that have anything to do with Garrett Armstrong?”

  Oh, Lord, was she that obvious? “Why do you ask?” Jen hedged.

  “No reason, other than the way he grabbed you when he first saw you.”

  “He was just glad I was safe,” Jen said.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Cecily said knowingly.

  “He and Tilda are together.”

  “He and Tilda aren’t a match, trust me.”

  And Cecily, with her famous love instincts, would know. “But they’re still together.” And the day they got engaged would be the day Jen moved back to Seattle. Much as she loved it here in Icicle Falls, she couldn’t bear the idea of having to watch Garrett live happily ever after with another woman.

  After some car juggling, Cecily dropped Jen off at her cottage. She was relieved to see it still standing, but smoke hung heavily on the air like a deathly perfume, and she didn’t have to look far to see the devastation the fire had caused. Part of Snow Mountain was now a forest of charred stumps.

  “That is so sad,” she said, taking in the ugly scene.

  “Yeah, it is,” Cecily said. “Of course, it’ll grow back, but that will take years.”

  So much beautiful forest ruined. The person responsible probably had no idea he or she had caused all this. Maybe, for that person, it was just as well. The guilt would be unbearable.

  “Well, it’s been an adventure,” Jen said to Cecily as she got out.

  “I hope this hasn’t turned you off hiking. Or living in the mountains.”

  “I must admit Seattle is looking pretty good right now,” Jen said. But that had more to do with a certain firefighter than it did with the forest fire.

  “You’d miss this place and come back.”

  Jen sighed. “Thanks again for being my guide.”

  “As they say, we’ll have something to tell our children.”

  If she ever had children. She was thoroughly depressed when she entered her cottage. She’d left her stressful two-job life in Seattle, found a wonderful new community and new friends who could be the lifelong kind, and yet she was depressed.

  She made a cup of mint tea from the wild mint she’d picked and dried, then sat on her couch and stared at the woodland scene outside her window. “I hate my life,” she muttered. Hadn’t she said those very words only a few months ago? This was a bad pattern she was falling into. New beginnings followed by failure.

  You haven’t failed, she told herself. Just because she wasn’t with the man of her dreams, that didn’t make her a failure. And so what if she hadn’t started the book she’d talked about writing? She was happy with her blog.

  Boy, did she have a lot to blog about now. Surviving a fire was no small thing, for her or the town of Icicle Falls.

  She got her laptop from the coffee table and opened a new document. Almost of their own volition, her fingers began to move over the keyboard.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to enjoy a bonfire again. Or casually light a fire in my woodstove. Not after what happened to me on the mountain.

  She typed on, the words flowing and the tears falling as she thought of how close she’d come to losing her life. She thought of all the firefighters who’d fought that blaze and the forest ranger who’d risked his life to get her and the other stranded hikers to safety, of the rangers who’d fed them and operated the base camp. Then she thought of people like Dot Morrison who’d stuck around to lend support. Icicle Falls wasn’t the kind of town to curl up and die in the face of danger.

  There were a lot of stories to tell here, not just hers but the town’s. She had more than a blog here. She had her book.

  Her cell phone rang when she was in the middle of a sentence. But seeing who was calling she knew she had to take it.

  “Are you okay?” Toni demanded.

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Thank God. Where are you?”

  “I’m back home.”

  “Don’t you ever check your messages? Mom and I have been calling. We’ve been going crazy over here.”

  “Tell her I’m fine.”

  “You should tell her yourself.”

  “I will. But right now I’m in the middle of a sentence. I’ve got my book idea!”

  “I’m just glad you’ve still got your life,” Toni said.

  * * *

  Several hours later Jen had the first chapter of her book done and a good sense of where she’d like to go with the rest of it. It would be a combination memoir and a history of Icicle Falls. A special town like this deserved a book.

  That meant she had to stick around to finish it. No running away. She was going to make her life great, and she’d do it right here in this great town.

  Over the next couple of days as she worked on fleshing out her book, she realized that she couldn’t give up on any part of that life. Which meant she wasn’t giving up on Garrett Armstrong. Tilda would have to find some other man because Jen the Poacher was here to stay.

  * * *

  The past two weeks had been hell, fourteen days of fourteen-hour shifts. But Garrett was proud to have been part of the team that had fought that nightmare fire and won, and he was thankful there’d been no loss of life.

  He checked in on his son, who was staying at his folks’ place, and then went home to sleep for a million years, leaving his mom to hand Timmy off to Ashley for the weekend.

  He fell into bed Friday afternoon and didn’t wake up for almost twenty-four hours. After a shower and some bacon and eggs, he almost felt ready to face the day, or what was left of it.

  First he went through his messages. Of course, his mom and grand
ma had called. His mom knew he was safe now and had probably told his grandmother, but he’d call Gram, anyway, because she’d want to hear from him personally.

  He’d been pleasantly surprised when his mom told him Ashley had actually offered to take Timmy for a few extra days if she needed a break. He was even more surprised by the tearful message Ash had left on his voice mail, ordering him to stay safe.

  There was another one from her, too. “I hope you’re doing okay. Timmy’s fine with me for the weekend. Get as much sleep as you need. I promise I won’t ask you to take him back early.”

  He stared at his cell. “Who are you and what have you done with my ex?”

  His final message was from Jen. “I just wanted to say that I hope you’re all right. The town is safe now, thanks to you. Well, and all the other men and women who risked their lives. Um, I’m writing a book about the fire and how everyone came through it. If you’d be willing, I’d love to interview you.”

  An interview. He could do...an interview.

  He phoned his grandmother and then started to punch in Jen’s number. Wait. Maybe it would be better if he ran over to the cottage instead. He wanted to see how much damage had been done to the surrounding area, anyway.

  When he drove up, he was glad to see that the place had escaped, but it was unnerving how close the fire had come. Trees only a couple of miles away were singed stakes poking at the sky. Such a damn waste. And they’d probably never find out who started it.

  Jen met him at the front door dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, her hair swept up in a ponytail. The way she smiled at him made his heart turn over. You’re just glad she’s safe, he told himself.

  “You must have gotten my message,” she said. “You didn’t need to come over, though. I could’ve interviewed you on the phone.”

  “That’s okay. I wanted to make sure everything out here was all right.” He walked inside and sniffed. It always smelled good in here. “What’s that I smell?”

  “I’m trying to master the art of pie making.”

  Pie. He loved pie. “What kind?”

  “Blackberry.” She frowned. “It didn’t turn out very well. It’s too runny and I didn’t put enough sugar in it.”