by Karen Foley
His chin wobbled as he stared at her, and for a moment Callie thought he might actually cry.
“It’s true I haven’t been much of a father,” he finally said and his voice shook. “But I always expected you to leave, just like your mother did. I guess it was easier for me not to get too close, knowing that day would come. And it did.”
Callie gave him a tolerant look. “That’s a poor excuse, Dad. I was a child. You had me for thirteen years before mom left, and five years afterwards, and I don’t remember there being any difference in our relationship.” She leaned forward and looked into his eyes. “In spite of my efforts.”
To her astonishment, he reached out and gripped her hand. “I’ve never been good when it comes to feelings, and talking about stuff. I don’t know why, that’s just the way I am. Maybe that’s why I prefer the company of animals. They don’t ask you to share every thought that’s going through your head.” He squeezed her fingers. “But I’ve always been proud of you, Callie. You’re a good girl, and better to me than I deserve.”
“Dad—”
“But I don’t want to go to California.” His expression softened. “All my memories are here. I’ve lived here my whole life. This is where I belong. I’d be like a fish out of water out there.”
Callie felt herself relenting. This might be the most heartfelt conversation she’d ever had with her father.
“Who will look out for you?” she asked. “I’d worry about you, so far away.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in the semblance of a smile. “You could move back to Montana. After all, this is where you were born.”
Callie opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her.
“Just think about it, okay?” His eyes were pleading. “I seem to recall you were a pretty happy kid, and you liked nothing better than being outdoors, under all that big sky.”
Callie had a swift recollection from her childhood, of a summer day spent hiking through the mountains with her father as he’d pointed out the various animal tracks they’d encountered, and talked about the wildlife in the area. He’d been a wonderful teacher.
“It was a great childhood,” she admitted. “But we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”
He withdrew his hand from hers and settled back against the pillows. “I can’t make any decisions right now,” he said, gruffly. “But I promise to give it some thought.”
“You will?” Callie couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
“If I can’t run the sanctuary anymore, I can at least move closer to where the wolves are now. Maybe the Missoula sanctuary could use a part-time volunteer.”
He closed his eyes, a clear signal he was finished talking, but Callie was too surprised by his words to do more than sit there.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he said, opening his eyes. “That day we almost died?”
“Yes?”
“You’re right—I was so concerned about the wolves, that I didn’t realize the danger I put you in.” He grunted. “I’m an old fool. Took that young firefighter to make me see sense.”
Callie tipped her head. “Tyler? How so?”
“He told me that if I loved you, and wanted any kind of future with you, then I’d leave. So I did.”
“Oh, Dad.” Leaning forward, Callie brushed a kiss across his forehead. “I love you, too.”
But he’d already closed his eyes.
Callie left the hospital, feeling lighter than she had in days. Somehow, it was going to work out. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was close to ten o’clock, and despite the morning’s stress, she was hungry. On impulse, she drove over to the Muddy Moose Café, a sprawling log cabin style structure and one of the few breakfast and lunch restaurants in the area.
The parking lot was full, and Callie could see most of the trucks belonged to the firefighters and local responders. The thought of eating breakfast surrounded by all those people almost changed her mind, but then her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since the previous night. Her only other option was the hospital cafeteria, and she wasn’t sure she could stomach another meal from there.
Pushing through the front doors of the café, she could see at least two dozen firefighters inside, all of them scarfing down huge platefuls of eggs and pancakes and bacon. Lots of bacon.
Callie stood for a moment, looking for an open seat at the long counter, or a small table away from the noisy group, when she saw a face she recognized.
Ace saw her at the same time, and gave her a cheerful wave. The entire table of eight men turned to look at her. Callie was debating leaving when Tyler suddenly stood up. Callie’s heart leapt at the sight of him. He carried his plate and a mug of coffee over to a small table near the soaring stone fireplace that dominated the room, and beckoned Callie to join him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, as she hooked her backpack over the chair, and sat down.
The expression in Tyler’s eyes as he smiled at her was warm and intimate, and conjured up erotic images of last night.
“Our jump plane has a flat tire, so we’re just waiting for the mechanic to make the repairs. The boss told us to grab some breakfast, so here we are.” Pushing his plate aside, he leaned forward, crossing his arms on top of the table. The movement caused his shirt to pull tight across his shoulders and biceps, emphasizing his muscles. “How are you, Callie? Doing okay?”
Callie’s mouth was dry. He looked amazing, as if he hadn’t been awake for half the night, doing sexy things with her.
“I’m fine.” She assured him. “Happy to see you.” Impulsively she reached across the table and linked her fingers with his. “I didn’t think I’d see you again, at least not so soon.”
“Yeah, I’m happy, too.”
He signaled a waitress, and Callie placed her breakfast order. Curling her hands around a steaming mug of coffee, she watched as Tyler finished eating his own breakfast.
“My dad said you went to see him this morning.”
He paused, and set down his fork. “I did, yes. I hope that’s okay. I wanted to see how he was doing.”
“I think it was really great of you,” she said. “You did me a huge favor in telling him about his house, so thank you for that. It wasn’t something I was looking forward to.”
He pulled a face. “I hated to tell him, but I thought it might be better coming from me.”
Callie smiled ruefully. “Why do I think you already know a little about my dad?”
“He took it pretty well, but he thinks he’s going to reopen the wolf sanctuary.” His face reflected his concern.
“I think he’s finally accepted that’s not going to happen.” Callie assured him. “Even if the wildfire had never happened, one of the things I planned to do while I was here was persuade him to sell the property. His health is bad, and he’s not getting any younger.”
Tyler’s expression was sympathetic. “So what will you do now?”
Callie shook her head. “I don’t know. The doctors want to keep him for a few more days, and then send him to rehab for several weeks. After that, I’d really like him to come back to Monterey with me, so I can keep an eye on him. But I don’t think he’ll ever leave Montana. The good news is that he’s finally ready to talk about the options.”
“What about his property?”
“I won’t sell it without his permission, but I can’t imagine anyone wanting to buy the land now, not when the fire destroyed everything that made it so beautiful.” She smiled brightly at him. “But that’s enough about me. What about you? How long will you be in Glacier Creek?”
He looked down at their linked hands and stroked his thumb over her wrist. The contact sent a frisson of awareness through Callie. Her heart ached as she watched him, knowing this might be the last time they would see each other.
“We’ll go back to the base to grab new chutes and supplies,” he said, “and then we’re heading west, to help contain a wildfire about two hundred miles away, on the
Canadian border.”
“Is there any chance you’ll be coming back through St. Mary on your way home?”
“No, it’s unlikely. Now that the main fire has been contained, the local crews can handle it. I don’t see it flaming into a massive wildfire again.”
Across the room, someone shouted his name. They both looked up, and Callie saw his boss, Captain Gaskill, gesture toward the door. The rest of the crew were already making their way out of the cafe.
“I guess that’s my cue,” he said with a brief smile, but Callie thought his voice sounded bleak. Standing up, he tossed some bills onto the table and came around to her side, pulling her to her feet. “I hope everything works out for you, Callie.”
So this was it. Callie hated how bereft she felt at the prospect of his leaving.
“Hang on a sec,” she said. Fishing in her backpack, she found a pen and scribbled her phone number and address on a napkin. She pushed it into the front pocket of his shirt. “Just in case you’re ever in Monterey.”
“Come here,” he said, and roughly pulled her into his arms. “Take care of yourself, Callie McLain.”
Pulling back, he stared at her for several long seconds, as if memorizing her face. Then he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek, and turned away, grabbing up his hardhat before following the rest of his crew out the door.
He was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
One month had passed since Tyler had left St. Mary. Since he’d left Callie. He and his crew had battled a massive wildfire along the Canadian border for two of those weeks. Since returning to Glacier Creek, he’d jumped a couple of smaller fires, but he’d been back for over a week, and things were quiet. He’d stayed busy at the base, and after hours had hung out with the crew. There had been barbeques and fishing trips, long hours at the gym, and even longer hours spent at The Drop Zone, shooting pool and drinking beer. And even though nothing in his routine had really changed, everything seemed different. He loved his job, still couldn’t imagine doing anything different with his life, but there was something missing.
He had Callie’s phone number and address tucked into his wallet. Was she still in St. Mary, or had she returned to Monterey? And would there finally come a day when he didn’t think about her at least a hundred different times?
A bunch of the crew had headed over to The Drop Zone pub for the evening, to shoot pool and have a few beers. Now Tyler pushed through the doors, the noise and music and smells enveloping him like a friendly embrace. He’d spent more time in this pub over the last fifteen years than he had in his own home.
The long, narrow room was filled with people, and Tyler saw that most of the jump crew were already at the bar. The fifty foot oak bar had been rescued from a former brothel in the old mining town of Taft. The tin ceilings overhead were gold, and embossed with scenes from the gold rush. The walls were hung with an assortment of firefighting posters, including one that read, “It’s not a party until the fire department shows up.” A vintage juke box cranked out country music, while two couples meandered lazily around the small dance floor. From the room at the back of the pub, he could hear the ricochet of balls as groups of people shot pool at the two tables.
He found a stool at the bar next to Vin, and ordered a beer. A baseball game was underway on the large, flat-screen TV over the bar, and Tyler absently noted the score.
“Hey,” Vin said. “About time you got your ass down here.”
Jake, one of the bartenders, slid a beer in front of Tyler, and he took a long swallow. Setting his glass down, he glanced along the length of the bar to see Ace and Liam chatting with a couple of pretty girls. Ace wore a T-shirt emblazoned with the words, “The hotter it is, the quicker we come.”
“Where’s Jacqui?” he asked, shifting his attention away from the younger men.
“She had a couple of errands to run, but she should be here shortly,” Vin said. “I noticed your old man is here.”
Twisting on his bar stool, Tyler looked around. There were twenty or so dinner tables grouped behind him, and more than half of them were full. The Drop Zone was a popular dining spot for the locals, and Cait, the owner’s daughter, did a pretty good job in the kitchen. Then he spotted his stepfather, sitting with one of his cronies in a corner. As if sensing Tyler’s scrutiny, he looked up and their eyes met. Mike leaned forward and said something to his friend, and then motioned for Tyler to come join him.
“Ah, shit, here we go,” Tyler muttered. “I wonder what I did now?”
“Have you been ignoring your mother?”
“Nope. In fact, I met her for lunch the other day.”
“Then I can’t help you, man,” Vin said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
In the firefighting community of Glacier Creek, it was no secret Tyler and his stepfather weren’t on especially good terms. Most of the younger guys thought Mike was too hard on Tyler, while the older crew members thought he was setting a good example for his stepson, and turning him into a responsible man.
But Tyler had been a responsible adult for many, many years. Now he grabbed his beer and made his way through the tables to where Mike sat. On the wall behind Mike hung a sign that read, “Firefighters can take the heat.” Mike’s buddy had left, and Tyler sat down in the vacant chair, leaning back and crossing his booted feet to let Mike know he wasn’t intimidated. But he’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t pounding just a little bit faster, wondering what criticism Mike would level at him this time.
“Hey, Tyler, good to see you,” Mike said in greeting.
“Is it?” he asked drily.
If Mike was surprised by Tyler’s acid response, he didn’t show it. He curled his hands loosely around his own beer, considering him through narrowed eyes.
“I haven’t seen you in a while. But I heard what you did out in St. Mary, helping to save that family and their animals.”
Tyler shrugged. “Just part of the job.”
“Sam called me when you went into the hospital. I would have come out, but he said you’d probably get released before I arrived.”
Uncrossing his feet, Tyler scooted his chair forward and leaned in. “Really? You would have come out to see me? Why?”
Now Mike did look surprised. “Why wouldn’t I? Of course I would come; you’re my—” He broke off, as if realizing what he’d been about to say.
“Your son? Is that what you were going to say?” Tyler gave a snort of disdain. “Because I seem to recall you telling me that I wasn’t your son.”
Mike frowned. “When did I say that?”
Tyler gave a disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding me? Those were almost your first words to me after you and mom got married.”
Mike grew quiet. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I don’t remember saying that to you.”
Now it was Tyler’s turn to be surprised. “I was five years old. I was so excited that Mike Eldridge—the bravest smokejumper around—was going to be my father, and then you just crushed me.”
Mike raised his eyebrows and then blew out a hard breath. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
Emboldened, Tyler leaned forward. “Did I do something to disappoint you? Is that why you never let me get close to you; why you always stayed aloof?”
Mike’s expression registered his shock. “Is that what you think?”
Tyler spread his arms wide. “What else would I think? I tried so hard to get your attention—your approval. I pretty much excelled at everything, and you never even acknowledged it.”
“You have to understand that your father was my good friend. My best friend. And how did I repay his friendship? I married his widow.” His voice carried a wealth of self-recrimination. “I loved your mother—I still do. But don’t you think I felt guilty for stealing my best friend’s girl?”
Tyler stared at him. “You didn’t steal her—he was dead. He’d been dead for three years when you married mom.”
Mike splayed his hands. “Well, that’s not how I felt. I fel
t like I’d somehow betrayed your father. And I decided then that I wasn’t going to steal you, too. Your father was Bryce Dodson, and I promised myself I’d never let you forget that.”
Tyler sat back, stunned. “You’re wrong,” he finally said. “I only ever had one father, and that was you. Bryce Dodson may have been my biological father, but you raised me.”
Mike looked quickly away, out over the dance floor, but Tyler didn’t miss the suspicious brightness to the older man’s eyes, or the faint tremble of his chin. When he looked back, he smiled at Tyler. “Thank you, Tyler. You don’t know what that means to me. For what it’s worth, I couldn’t be prouder of you than if you really were my son. In fact, I haven’t thought of you as a stepson in many, many years. And when I see the fine man you’ve become, I know Bryce would be proud, too.”
The sudden surge of emotion caught Tyler off guard, and now it was his turn to look away, and pretend that Mike’s admission didn’t make him feel more than a little sentimental.
“Thank you,” he said simply.
They sat for several minutes, drinking their beer and pretending to watch the ballgame on the overhead flat-screen.
“So, what’s this I hear you met someone out in St. Mary?”
Tyler swiveled his attention back to Mike. “Is that what they’re saying?”
Was it his imagination, or was Mike’s mouth curved in a satisfied smile. “That’s exactly what they’re saying. Well, that and the fact that since you left St. Mary, you’ve been as distracted and moody as a pregnant woman in her third trimester.”
Tyler made a growling sound. “I’m not moody. I’m…conflicted.”
“About what?”
Later, Tyler couldn’t believe he had opened up to Mike about Callie. But he told him everything, leaving out only the details of their night together. He didn’t know what he was expecting in the way of advice, especially from a hardass like Mike Eldridge, but the old man surprised him.