Evan, his face still buried between her breasts, his arms locked around her back to keep her close, managed a nod. Then he offered a muffled, “Give me a second, just one goddamn second.”
But the siren kept climbing until it echoed through the forest.
“Race you back to the camp,” she managed on a gasp as she shoved down with her hips for one last glorious second.
His laugh, barely escaping between her breasts, was equally glorious.
Without question, the man who held her so close despite the siren, was just as gone on her as she was on him.
Of course, Evan probably didn’t know that about himself yet. She’d make sure he got there. It would end, eventually; like all of her other relationships. But she was going to enjoy every last second of it.
Krista managed to reach her bra without displacing where he was buried up inside her. She had to push his face out of the way to slip it into place and tuck everything where it belonged.
“Spoilsport,” he murmured reaching out and snagging both their t-shirts without moving from beneath her.
Less than sixty seconds after the alarm, they were racing back to the basecamp, and Krista didn’t give a damn what any of her teammates thought about her disheveled state and the gorgeous man trying to catch up enough to grab her ass as they ran.
Chapter 10
Two hours later they were jumping a fire in the Bitterroot Mountains in Western Montana.
“I thought I was done with these damned mountains,” Evan complained to Ox as they double-checked each other’s gear before the jump. “This is Zulies territory.”
“Yeah, I bet they’re just having themselves nothing but fun up in the Alaska Range right at the moment; that Anchorage fire’s a monster. Though I’m with you, bro. The Bitterroots suck.”
They were as steep as the Hindu Kush, which meant missing a drop zone could land you in the next valley a several-hour hike away. Except the Bitterroots were covered with a towering conifer forest that was crackling dry with the heat and the drought that had been throttling the Northwest all year. Once on the ground, cutting a line across the steep terrain was a major fu—
“Dropping,” Terry shouted and they all leaned to the windows to see just how ugly the streamers were this time. Nothing unusual, the air currents were merely horrific—about standard for the Bitterroots.
He looked at Krista as she and Akbar prepared for their jump. Felt light-headed when he did. He’d always assumed that he’d never want to be with a woman long term. While he’d been in the military there was never any question of a woman waiting through a deployment, so he hadn’t even tried for anything longer than a few nights. Once he’d gone civilian there’d been some nice ones, the type that might even last a season or two before fading away—if he’d given them the chance.
And there’d been the fine example of his parents, who had stayed together god alone knew why. Maybe they were compatibly nasty. It was all aimed at each other—he and Francine had just been sideline spectators to the main show—but that hadn’t saved his sister.
Yet there was Krista, ducking into the door close behind Akbar. Even fully kitted up, between the powerful frame and enough curves to show through a thick jumpsuit, there was no question it was her. But there was the attitude as well.
The high-five that Evan now knew was going to cost Akbar another beer.
The way Krista kept an eye on “her charges” to make sure they were all ready for the jump. The way she cared so deeply about people just shone off her.
Mama Krista was the MHA Mama Bear…
That nickname wasn’t going to stick either, but he could feel that he was getting closer.
He and Ox were second stick today, so Evan and Krista had sat close together for the flight. But old smokie habits took over and they were both asleep before the DC-3’s wheels even lifted off the runway. Still, it had been nice to sleep even with just their shoulders leaning against each other.
He’d been the first to wake and had caught Akbar watching him closely. Krista had still been out, her head resting on his shoulder. Evan knew that Krista wasn’t the only one to watch so closely over the team. But Akbar made no sign, positive or negative; he’d simply wait and see.
Now they were flying down and Evan scooted into the doorway position with Ox pressing close behind.
Like usual, Ox placed a knee in the middle of Evan’s back, perfect position to shove him out before he was ready; though Ox never did, he certainly enjoyed his chosen role of harassing The Rook.
Evan did his final four-point check on the chute releases and cutaways, then he looked down at Akbar and Krista circling toward the drop zone.
The fire was only two dozen acres, but it had enough attitude that he wagered with himself that it would be a hundred before they could stop it.
Akbar and Krista fought the air currents that lashed them one way and the other. This time he’d have to call it a tie when they landed at opposite sides of the clearing; they now owed each other a beer.
He still had a moment before the plane was in final position for the second stick to jump, and he took it to enjoy the view. The Bitterroots might be hell to fight fire in, but it was also true wilderness that existed like few other places left in the States. He tried to think of someplace he’d rather be and couldn’t.
He was three thousand feet above the most amazing woman he’d ever been with and they were going to fight a forest fire together. Life just didn’t get much better.
Terry did his chatter-with-the-pilot thing until he was happy with the flight path. Then he pulled his head back inside and Evan changed his hands to the jump position.
“Ready?”
“Ready!”
Ready for what, was the question. His world had gotten a lot more interesting this summer than he’d ever counted on. He cared for the girls they’d taught at the camp and he cared for Krista more than should be possible. More than he was ready for? Maybe. He didn’t know how to tell.
Terry’s slap landed hard on his shoulder and he was out the door before the second “Go!” was out of Terry’s mouth. The third one was lost behind him as Evan flew into the roar of the world’s wind, ready for whatever came next.
When he dead-centered the landing he shouted to Akbar and Krista that they both owed him a beer.
Any response was muffled when Ox landed close behind him and his jump partner’s collapsing parachute wholly enveloped Evan.
# # #
The blaze in the Bitterroots hit four hundred acres and took a week to kill.
The first bad injury of the season happened on that one, Jackal came down and planted one leg in a rabbit hole in the drop zone. He snapped his left tibia and tore his knee when his body tried to roll and his leg didn’t follow. Axe had sat with him for the five cruel hours until a helicopter could reach them. Once they had the leg reset, he’d be in the parachute loft for the rest of the season repacking gear.
It was always a sobering moment, he could just as easily have broken his back or punched an artery and bled out before help could arrive.
But they did what smokies do, they beat down the blaze.
After the fire, Evan got one night with Krista—passed out wearing full gear in a helibase tent set up in a farmer’s field. He figured it was a winner because at least they got real food at Betsy’s roving chow tent when they woke up.
A brush fire in Mountain Home, Idaho took Evan a little too close to Boise for comfort—his parents still lived there, though his sister’s ashes were buried in the River of No Return Wilderness along with all that had remained of his rifle after a long night in the heart of a campfire.
But before the Mountain Home blaze was fully contained, they were jumping another fire in Eastern Oregon.
“Having fun yet, Rook?” Krista shouted above the engine’s roar as they were flying in.
Evan did his best to
grin at her, but it was a pretty weary grin. “That last one was easier than teaching teenage girls. Have to see how this one is.”
They jumped it. They beat it. Nick the Greek was favoring a shoulder after that and Ant-man did his best to stump along despite a sprained ankle. Smokies just weren’t the sort of guys who quit while they could still walk—Ant-man strapped his ankle, popped a couple aspirin, and called it good.
They got a night in a cheap motel instead of a fire camp after that one, which everyone appreciated.
Evan scrubbed Krista down in the shower, and sent her off to bed while he finished himself because she was near to sliding down the drain herself. He knew she’d be asleep before he joined her, but it wasn’t as if he had the energy for anything himself except to hold onto her and dream a bit.
He woke up sitting on the floor of the shower stall when the hot water ran out and he was forced to finish rinsing in ice water pumped directly off some glacier. Staggering to bed and reminding himself that it was all part of the joys of mid-season firefighting was usually sufficient. But, for the first time, he had a lady he was wanting some quality time with. Of course neither of them would give up a single fire to…
# # #
Krista jerked awake when the siren kicked off.
The clock said she’d had seven hours sleep. The snores in the darkness told her that Evan probably had about the same. She remembered getting in the shower, and stubbing her toe as she stumbled back out, but not a whole lot else.
She lifted a hand to her face and sniffed tentatively under an arm. All she smelled was soap, thank god.
The siren was wrong; it was a fire truck siren, not a wildfire one.
She was almost back asleep when she heard Akbar’s voice on a PA in the parking lot.
“Breakfast in five. Van to the airport in fifteen. Fire waiting.”
That must have been a real popular move with the rest of the hotel’s patrons—it was only five a.m.
Somehow Evan had slept through the siren.
There was a little light from the bathroom—apparently one of them had been too unconscious to turn out the light and had simply pulled the door mostly closed. Krista could just make out the man lying beside her. Evan was face down on top of covers, with his pretty butt on display.
She smacked it hard.
“Ow! Hey! Wha…?” he managed in a running mumble.
“Wakey, wakey time, Rook. Fire’s awaiting.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha,” he pulled the pillow over his head.
Krista went to smack that pretty butt again, but he must have felt her shift in weight through the mattress. He rolled and caught her hand. Leveraging her swing and his momentum he pulled her down on top of him.
But he’d misjudged and rolled them right off the edge of the bed.
Krista landed flat on her back with Evan crashing down atop her.
“Oof! You’re heavy, Rook.”
“That’s not what you said last…” She could barely see him, they were on the side of the bed away from the bathroom, but she could feel his puzzlement. “…when was the last time we…?”
“Not right now, Rook. There’s a fire. Other than the one I can feel growing against my body.”
“You’re joking?” he whined it like a little boy pleading to be spared.
“I thought macho Special Forces soldiers didn’t whine.” Just to torture them both a little, she grabbed his butt and pulled him against her for a long moment.
“Ex Special Forces. They threw me out.”
“They what?” Krista froze. She couldn’t imagine such a thing. It threatened to shatter her image of Evan Greene.
“Yeah. Happened right after I told them that six years, three tours, and five deployments was enough. They thought I was joking. I whined. On that basis alone, they decided that I wasn’t their kind of guy.”
Krista shoved him off her for being such a goof. She flicked on a bedside lamp so she could find her clothes.
He lay on the floor, half snarled up in the room’s single wood-legged desk chair and making no real effort to untangle himself. “They tried bribing me for old times sake, gave me a rank bump and a Good Conduct medal for being a good boy. But I was too sneaky for them. I became a civilian instead,” he winked at her.
“No you didn’t, Rook,” Krista clambered to her feet. Her clothes were strewn in a line from the front door to the bathroom, mixed in with Evan’s. “You became a smokejumper.” Each time she picked a piece of gear that was his, she tossed it across the room at him. He slowly disappeared under the growing pile of clothes landing atop him.
“Did I?” He still didn’t get up from the floor. “Yeah, that sounds like the crazy ass sort of thing I’d do. Fire you say?”
“I’d be glad to send Akbar in to deliver a personal invite if you feel you need one.”
“Bet you ten he’d make the invite with a fire hose,” Evan whined in his best worried little boy voice.
Since she’d seen Akbar do that more than once to the other smokies, as well as dumping a bucket of water on Tim’s head when he didn’t wake up fast enough, she didn’t take the bet.
“Besides,” Evan clambered to his feet. “You’re mostly dressed now. Where’s the fun in that?”
Krista found Evan’s underwear and heaved them at his face. Her beautiful lover, his naked body soft lit by the dim yellow bulb, started sorting through his clothes and pulling them on.
Whatever in the world she’d done right to wake with him beside her, she’d sure like to know so that she could keep doing it.
“I promise you fun later, Rook.”
“Really?” he pretended to perk up.
“Sure,” she promised him as she finished lacing her boots. “We’re going to jump another fire, aren’t we?”
He stuck his tongue out at her.
Krista grabbed him by his cotton long johns, reeking of firesmoke and sweat, and dragged him in close. “Fun. Later. Promise.” Then, instead of kissing him, she shoved him sharply so that he tumbled back onto the bed. Before he could recover, she headed out the door to find some calories.
Besides, if she stayed even another second in that room, they were both going to miss the fire.
Chapter 11
“We’re what?” Krista’s voice squeaked and she went white.
Her skin and hair were so fair that she’d only lightly tanned despite making her living in the outdoors, but Evan was still impressed at the color change—and more than a little startled because nothing surprised Krista.
The van had rolled the sleep-fogged smokies back to the airport. Half of them, including himself, were still eating breakfast. Sausages hastily wrapped in a waffle, weird bacon-with-egg-and-turkey sandwiches, anything they’d been able to lay their hands on. Half gallon cartons of orange juice were being passed back and forth like moonshine jugs.
They were aloft while they were still eating, which was a challenge on a DC-3. The plane was a tail dragger which meant her aisle was steeply sloped because her butt normally sat on the ground, until she reached take-off speeds and then she climbed like a mother. The forces drove incautious smokies toward the tail of aircraft. This time most of them had their hands full of breakfast, so heavy boots were propped against others’ hips or gear bags to keep from sliding to the stern in a confused heap.
They were aloft with the sunrise.
Once they had sorted themselves out and most of the eating was done, Akbar had told them where they were going.
And Krista had gone sheet white.
“We’re what?” she repeated in a dead monotone, clutching Evan’s upper arm with a desperation that was really starting to hurt despite the heavy jumpsuit.
“There’s a fire,” Akbar repeated himself, looking at her strangely. “On the Skagit River. Near a town named Concrete.”
Krista looked like a beached fis
h, her jaw working but no sound making it out.
“What, do they have a big cement plant?” Evan went for a joke, hoping to elicit some response.
Her eyes simply went wider and she looked as if she was about to be ill. Then she began shaking her head slowly in denial. Thankfully she eased off on the vice grip around his bicep and dropped her hands lifelessly into her lap.
“Two plants, though I think they’re both closed,” Akbar said carefully. “Small town up in the northern Cascade Mountains.”
“How bad?” Krista croaked out, clearly asking about the fire.
“It’s—”
“Pretty bad,” Evan cut off Akbar. “I’d say you’re being a real mess at the moment. A pretty mess though.”
Krista’s glare did his heart good; it was a bit of the normal Krista showing through. Perhaps teasing her wasn’t the best choice, but he had to snap her out of whatever was going on. She was worrying him.
He checked the rest of the guys. Most were finishing their night’s sleep.
Only Ox had caught that something was going on and had managed to stay awake.
“It’s not good,” Akbar said gently. “Officially the Twin Sisters Fire, it started up on the Twin Sisters mountains from a runaway slash pile. Lumber company lit off a dozen piles of slash, one got away and they abandoned all the others. It lit a mile-wide front all at once. We have strong winds out of the northwest driving it toward the town of Concrete. They aren’t evacuating the town yet, but they’re watching it. What’s the deal, Krista?”
“The deal?” Her voice was still sounded spaced out.
They’d jumped a half dozen fires already this year at least as bad.
Then Krista shook her head like a wet dog climbing out of a swamp.
“How soon do we get there?” And she rattled off a whole list of available asset questions without ever giving Akbar a chance to answer them.
“Krista,” Evan finally shook her.
“What?” she snarled at him.
Thankfully it was Akbar who answered, “Explain what the hell is going on or you won’t be jumping this one.”
Wildfire on the Skagit (Firehawks Book 9) Page 12