Wildfire Sweethearts

by Leigh Bale

  Chapter Fifteen

  At one fifteen the following morning the shrill ring of Sean’s cell phone awoke him from a dead sleep. Dispatch calling to tell him that they had a desert fire burning in the hills south of Reno. Their home turf.

  Sitting up in bed, Sean turned on the bedside lamp. He made several calls, waking his squad bosses first. He knew they’d contact each crew member serving under them. Within an hour they’d all congregate at the hotshot base where they’d load up and depart within a matter of minutes. They were ready, their saws and tools cleaned, their fuel containers filled.

  Sean thought about calling Tessa himself but decided he should work through the hierarchy of the team. He wondered if her ankle was healed enough for the heavy work on a fireline, but she already felt singled out by him. No need to make it any worse.

  By five in the morning the crew was loaded up and tailing a line of pumper trucks along a narrow desert road that shot across gullies and low-lying ridges. The desert spread out for miles around them, covered with brittle sagebrush and clumps of dried cheatgrass. The golden glow of dawn greeted them from the east as the crew transport came to a jarring stop.

  “Everyone out,” Sean called as they arrived at their destination.

  A few moans and wide yawns greeted him as the men sat up and peered with bleary eyes out the windows.

  “That was a fast ride. Not much time to nap,” Dean grumbled.

  Looking toward the back of the buggie, Sean saw Tessa watching him, her tired eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t discern. He wondered if she’d read his notes and figured she must have. The empty space between them seemed to fill up with all the words he’d left unsaid.

  She grabbed her Pulaski, the only person fully awake and ready to vacate the vehicle. He waited patiently while the men lined past him and unloaded. Mumbled groans were the only sounds to fill the dry, hot August air.

  The fire was burning sideways across the low-lying hills a couple of miles southeast of them. Great clouds of smoke billowed up from the crown of a rocky, grass-covered mound. Trying to focus on his work, Sean remembered his goal and gave instructions.

  “Line out and hold the fire’s advance right here.” He gestured to the area where they should work.

  The crew tooled up and lined out in quick unison, approaching the fire from the west. With no trees to cut down, the sawyers left their chain saws back in the buggies. Each crew member carried hand tools instead.

  The team worked for some time in numbing monotony. Gusts of wind buffeted them, intensifying the sweaty heat. A squawk from his radio pulled Sean away from his task.

  He depressed the call button. “Go ahead.”

  “We’ve got a civilian who is refusing to leave his cabin,” the dispatcher said.

  “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Sean returned.

  “Get him outta there,” came the brusque reply.

  Sean heaved a weary sigh. The crew didn’t need this right now, but he obediently pressed the button one more time. “Will do.”

  He got the coordinates then waved to get Harlie’s attention.

  The squad leader jogged over to him, puffing breath. “What’s up, super?”

  “Bring one more crew member and come with me. We’ve got a little errand to run.”

  Shaking his head, Sean peered at the dirt road, searching through the floating smoke for some sign of the cabin. He saw it, sitting among a scattered grove of pinion-junipers, called PJ’s for short.

  Without looking back, he started forward, jogging along the dirt road at a fast clip. When he turned he saw Harlie and Tessa running beside him and froze. No, not Tessa. What was Harlie thinking?

  He tossed an irritated glance at the squad leader, but Harlie wasn’t looking at him and never noticed. But Tessa did.

  With a slight lift of her chin, she gazed at Sean without blinking, her bloodshot eyes almost daring him to send her away. She undoubtedly knew he wanted to ask for someone else. To leave her behind. But he couldn’t. Not now. There wasn’t time.

  Resigned to the situation, he lifted a hand. “Follow me.”

  He rushed down the path. The fire was moving toward them fast, but they had the expanse of desert and road to shelter them. For the time being. A burst of urgency swept over him. If they didn’t want to get caught in the flames, they’d have to hurry.

  “What are we doing here, super?” Harlie yelled the words over the rapidly increasing drone of the fire.

  “We’re gonna bring out a civilian before he and his cabin get burned to cinders,” Sean said.

  “Why didn’t he evacuate with the other home owners?” Harlie asked.

  Sean shrugged.

  “If the fool wants to burn, then I say let him go,” Harlie said.

  Sean agreed, but he didn’t say so. He was angry that someone was endangering all of their lives for a stupid house that could be replaced. But they kept running forward, following orders. Putting their lives on the line to save someone who could have left earlier and been safe now.

  A few more minutes and they saw the man. He stood outside his cabin, using a skimpy garden hose to spray the flickering flames that licked at the dried timbers.

  Sean hurried up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. The man jerked around. “Oh, you startled me.”

  “What’s your name?” Sean asked.

  “Dwight Connor, and I’m sure glad to see you. Help me put out this fire, will you? I can’t lose my cabin.”

  Gazing at the inferno boiling around them, Sean snorted. Defending this cabin was like trying to hold back the tides of the ocean. It was futile and ridiculous and would only cost their lives.

  “No, sir. You need to come with us right now. Your cabin is lost. If you stay here, you will most certainly die,” Sean said.

  The balding man barely spared the firefighters a glance, his face, cotton shirt and blue jeans covered with soot. “No, I won’t go. I’m staying right here. I can hold the fire off. I don’t want to lose my vacation home.”

  Vacation home? That was all the man was thinking about? He just didn’t get it. This wasn’t about him anymore. He was risking many people’s lives now.

  Sean glanced at Harlie and Tessa. They shifted nervously, their eyes filled with fear and urgency. He wished he’d come alone. They knew what he knew. That this was a losing proposition. If anything happened to Tessa, he didn’t think he could bear the pain. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. If they didn’t want to die today, their only chance was to get out of here. Right. Now.

  “That piddly hose isn’t going to do one bit of good against this fire. We’re leaving. Now,” Sean yelled above the roar of the quickly advancing flames.

  “Then so be it,” Dwight yelled back.

  No way. Sean knew even if Dwight stayed here of his own accord that his family would hold the hotshot crew accountable for his death. Sean could almost see the headlines now. Minoa Hotshot Crew abandons poor, defenseless home owner to flames.

  The stupid wretch.

  Whipping out his sharp lock-blade knife, Sean walked over to the tap and slit the hose in two. He picked it up and carried it over to Dwight where he dropped it at the man’s feet.

  “Try putting the fire out with that,” Sean said.

  “Hey! What’d you do that for?” Dwight blustered.

  “You have two options. Walk out with us right now, or get carried out unconscious,” Sean said.

  When he looked at Harlie, Dwight’s eyes widened. The firefighter’s gaze was filled with raw anger and he held his Pulaski like a club as if he’d like to hit Dwight over the head with it.

  Just to their right, a cluster of PJ’s exploded into flame. They all jerked and ducked their heads. The heat felt like a furnace against their flesh.

  “Okay, oka
y. I’ll go,” Dwight said, holding his hands up in surrender.

  “This way!” Tessa pointed to an opening among the PJ’s.

  “No! Head for the road,” Sean yelled.

  She hesitated, her eyes filled with doubt and fear. “But it’s filled with smoke. And where there’s smoke, there’s fire. We can’t go that way.”

  He clasped her arm, gazing into her eyes for just a moment. “I know what I’m doing, Tessa. Trust me. Please.”

  She tilted her head, her eyes wide with disbelief. For several pounding moments he thought she might refuse and go the other way. Just like Zach. And heaven help him, if she ran into the trees, Sean would follow her...and die with her. He would not leave her no matter what. No turning away. Never again. Not for him.

  She nodded and turned toward the road. And her vote of confidence meant everything to him. It gave him the courage to lead them forward.

  As a group, they sprinted for their lives. An urgent flush of adrenaline pushed Sean onward. He didn’t have time to be scared. All he could think about at that moment was getting Tessa out of there. Keeping her safe. Throughout the fire season, he’d tried so hard to save her life, and now she might lose it in spite of his best efforts.

  A fifteen-foot wall of fire paralleled the dirt road, rising and arching over their heads. Like a sea of flame, it rolled and churned, headed straight for them. The intense heat burned them through their Nomex shirts. Sean knew it would be even worse for Dwight, who wore no fire-resistant clothing. The roar of a freight train filled his ears, crashing down on top of them.

  As they raced down the dirt road, Sean could barely see through to the end of the tunnel. And that was when he prayed. For the first time since Zach had died. Asking God’s forgiveness for giving up on Him. Asking for His help. Promising anything if the Lord would just get them out of here safely. Because he loved Tessa. He always had. He always would. There was no use denying it any longer.

  If they hurried, they might make it out alive. If they failed, they’d be hailed on the national news as heroes who had tried to save Dwight Connor’s life. And Sean didn’t want to be a hero today.

  * * *

  White-hot panic forced Tessa to hurry faster. She pumped her legs hard, her lungs burning for oxygen. She’d heard it said once that every man turned to prayer when he was in the midst of battle, and she supposed that was true. And as she felt the blaze intensify, felt its scorching heat against her face, she prayed like never before. Asking God to shelter them. Asking Him to get them out safely.

  Like always, Sean shepherded them from behind. Harlie ran beside her, with Dwight Connor in back. She could hear Sean’s hoarse voice directly over her right shoulder, but the thundering blare of the fire drowned out his words. It didn’t matter. She understood him well enough. Run! Get out of here now.

  Looking ahead, she saw an opening not thirty feet away. If they could make it, they’d be safe.

  Dwight stumbled and fell, his hand grazing her arm as he slammed into the dirt. Her stride slowed and she hesitated. Sean stopped to help the man up. No, no! They didn’t have time.

  She whirled around, turning back for Sean. But Harlie grabbed her web belt and jerked her forward.

  “Come on! Sean’s got him,” Harlie yelled.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Sean had Dwight back on his feet. The civilian was limping. Sean wrapped his arm around the man’s waist and pushed him onward.

  “Go! Go!” Sean’s voice sounded small and insignificant amidst the fire, clogged by fear or soot. She wasn’t sure which. Maybe both.

  Thinking he was right behind her, Tessa kept going. Five more paces and she darted into safety. Her crew members dragged her and Harlie away from the wall of flames. She lifted her head and saw the shadowy specter of several huge pumper trucks, their large hoses dousing the blaze with a deluge of water. Those trucks were the only things holding back the encroaching firestorm. A thin line that separated the hotshot crew from certain death. The team was moving away from the intense heat, but they were short a man.

  Sean!

  She looked back, seeking him within the smoke. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here with her?

  The flames closed off sight to him and Dwight, engulfing them in a churning melee of orange and yellow fire. She coughed, a thick hacking sound.

  Where was Sean? Where was he?

  “Sean! Sean!” she screamed over and over again.

  She darted toward the flames, desperate to save him. Desperate to tell him that she hadn’t read his personal notes. That it didn’t matter to her anymore. Nothing mattered now, except for being with him.

  Her heart felt as though it would burst within her chest. She couldn’t lose him now. Not like this. She loved him still. She knew that now. She’d been hurt and angry, wanting answers. But it hadn’t killed her love. And she wanted one last chance to tell him so. She didn’t want to live without him in her life. She had to reach him. She must!

  Harlie pulled her back. “No, Tessa. You can’t help him now.”

  “I can. I can,” she insisted, fighting Harlie’s hold.

  Dean and Ace raced to stop her. She clawed at them as they hugged her tight. Held immobile by her crew members, she sobbed her anguish, filled with utter despair.

  She’d lost Zach. Her dear, sweet brother was gone. And now she would lose Sean, too. The love of her life.

  The sky above was surrounded by thick, black smoke. The sun was a round, blood-red haze that seemed to taunt them. She felt helpless. Lost and hopeless.

  Alone.

  A shiver swept her in spite of the tremendous heat. A wall of flame engulfed the area where Sean had been limping along with Dwight. The roar of the fire filled her ears, deafening her. All she heard was the pounding of her heart.

  Sean was gone. She’d lost him for good this time.

  The erratic winds pushed the flames apart, squeezing a small alcove along the dirt road. Like the Red Sea, the fire parted. In the swirling heat, two images emerged at the tiny opening.

  “Sean!” she yelled.

  He was dragging Dwight in the dirt. Crouched low, he trudged on, his shoulders hunched as he pulled the limp figure to safety.

  The hotshot crew ran to help. Harlie and Dean released Tessa and she hurried to Sean’s side. Like walking through a curtain, he emerged from the flames and collapsed in her arms. She sat on the ground, bending over him. He smiled up at her, his eyes bloodshot, his white teeth flashing in a face blackened by smoke and blisters.

  “I got him out. I didn’t leave him behind. I got him out safe,” Sean’s voice croaked. And then he closed his eyes and went limp.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sean sat in the maintenance shop alone, his eyes gritty with fatigue. Days had passed since the fire when he’d pulled Dwight Connor out of the flames. Even with the pain pills Sean had been given in the hospital for the burns he’d received, he hadn’t been sleeping well. In time, his physical wounds would heal, but not the wounds in his heart.

  Tessa had sat beside his bed in the hospital, holding his bandaged hand, but they didn’t speak much. When he’d gotten out, he’d thought about calling or driving over to her apartment, but changed his mind a dozen times. They had to talk, but he dreaded it. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore. She deserved to be happy.

  Careful of his blistered hands, he moved the blade of his pocket knife in a circular motion over a flat, rectangular sharpening stone. At ten minutes after seven Tessa walked inside, before the rest of the crew arrived for work. He looked up, feeling her presence before he saw her. Funny how connected he felt to this woman he’d tried so hard to push away.

  Her quiet gaze rested on him like a thunderous shout. She gripped a manila envelope in one hand. His notebook.

  Here it was. The moment he’d been dreading. It was inevitab
le. Like the sea rushing to the shore. But now his reprieve had ended.

  Without a word, she walked over and set the envelope on the workbench. His gaze rested on it.

  “It’s still sealed,” he said.

  “Yes. I didn’t read it.”

  “Why not?”

  “It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care what’s in your notes, nor do I care what happened in the past. I only care about you.”

  He blinked at her, trying to absorb her words, wondering what to say. But he had to talk. Had to tell her everything. If he was ever to heal from his PTSD and have a second chance with her, then he couldn’t keep any secrets from her. Not ever.

  She leaned her hip against the workbench and silently waited for him to speak. Her eyes questioned him, her shoulders tense. It was time.

  Taking a deep breath, he sat back on his tall stool and clenched his eyes closed. Nothing could prepare him for this. It didn’t help that Jared Marshall had visited him in the hospital the day before to inform him that he was going to receive a special commendation, along with Harlie and Tessa, for saving Dwight Connor’s life.

  Sean had snorted at the news. He didn’t deserve it for two reasons. First, he’d still like to throttle Connor’s neck for almost getting them all killed. And second, because he still felt responsible for Zach’s death. And yet the guilt no longer seemed so oppressive.

  “You know Zach and I were trying to get a jump on the fire.” His voice sounded hoarse from the smoke and heat he’d inhaled a few days earlier.

  “Yes, I know. But you don’t need to explain it to me, Sean. Truly, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Tessa spoke so softly that he almost didn’t hear her.

  He let the memories wash over him in painful waves. “But I do need to explain. I need to tell you so I can finally let it go.”