Wilderness Passion

by Lindsay McKenna

  She nodded her head, looking toward the last ridge. The heat was building so rapidly that it was creating rising clouds of steam off the lake. Tears gathered in her eyes and Libby clung to him, feeling his arms go around her in a protective gesture. “Y-yes. I’ll do as you say,” she sobbed.

  “That’s my lady,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “Okay, let’s get into the water.”

  Dan never left her side. Libby allowed him to pull her out into the knee-deep water. He led her toward a stand of thick cattails and made her lie belly-down in the water until only the tops of her shoulders and head were visible. Scooping up handfuls of mud, he swathed it over her neck and shoulders.

  “We can’t live underwater,” he explained quickly. “So I want you to stay down on your stomach. The mud is to protect you from the heat” He reached out, putting more of the thick, gooey substance in her hands. “Smear it over your face and hair. Plenty of it, Lib,” he ordered.

  She had just finished covering herself with mud when the fire crested the ridge. Dan lay down beside her, putting his arm around her. He made sure his back was to the fire, his body acting as a protection between it and Libby. The water was spring-fed and icy, soothing her hot, sweaty body. Libby pressed herself close to Dan, hearing trees explode like bombs being detonated. The air was filled with smoke and flames like ugly red welts, alive within the thunderous holocaust. She sobbed, shutting her eyes tightly. Dan’s arm tightened around her waist, keeping her close.

  The heat was incredibly intense. Libby felt the mud drying almost immediately and pulling at her skin. She opened her eyes only to see the sky filled with tongues of yellow, red and orange flame. Hysteria snaked through her and she began to sob. But Dan remained calm, gradually moving them into deeper water as the lake began to shrink because of evaporation. Time and again he put more mud on her head, face and shoulders. His voice, low and calming, kept Libby from struggling out of his grasp and losing total control. Time ceased. There was only the monstrous heat. Libby kept her face turned on the side, half in the water, breathing through her mouth as Dan had instructed. Her skin smarted and began to feel burned.

  Dan reached down into the murky depths, pulling out a handful of lake-bed weeds. He placed it over her mouth and nose. “Breathe through this,” he shouted above the roar. “Keep wetting it and breathe through it, Libby. If you don’t, your lungs will get burned.” She tiredly pulled the weeds to her mouth and nose, immediately grateful for the idea. Her skin stopped smarting and the air she inhaled was infinitely cooler. Everywhere she looked the world was on fire. Flames arched overhead like long, evil fingers reaching toward the horizon. Throughout, Dan’s husky voice was there, comforting, his protective arm about her trembling body. And, more than anything, she kept hearing him say over and over again, “Libby, I love you. Don’t give up. We’ll live through this. We can do it. I love you.”

  She had no idea of how long it was before Dan slowly stood up in the shallow water with her leaning weakly against him. Almost miraculously the worst of the intense heat had suddenly dissipated. Libby stood dripping in the water, clinging to Dan, her eyes wide with shock as she surveyed the charred, blackened land around them. It was almost dark except for the orange glow on the far horizon to the south of them. Thousands of trees continued to burn in the wake of the blaze, flickering candles in the turbid dusk. Resting her head tiredly against his chest, she was soothed by the slow, drumlike beat of his steady heart.

  Dan caressed her damp, muddied hair. “Okay?” he whispered, his mouth near her temple.

  Libby nodded. “Just hold me, Dan,” she managed weakly.

  His blue eyes glittered in the gathering darkness. “I’ll do better than that. Come on, let’s wash off the mud.”

  She had never known that exhaustion could muddle her mind and leave her on the brink of incoherence. Dan had to bathe her like a helpless baby, repeating sentences slowly so that she could grasp what he was saying. After washing her off, Dan picked her up and took her to dry land. He gently set Libby on the ground and then unzipped a large pocket on the left leg of his flight suit Libby watched dully, completely confused by his actions.

  “What...are you doing?”

  Dan pulled a long, rectangular radio out of a sealed plastic bag, turning one of the knobs to the On position. “Calling in our rescue.” He grinned, his teeth starkly white against the blackness of his strained features. “Looks like this four-pound radio is worth carrying after all. I’m going to order a chopper in to get us out of here.”

  A smile pulled at Libby’s mouth. She sat there in the darkness, her hair wet, looking like a bedraggled kitten. Within half an hour she heard a helicopter approaching. Dan set out a red flare, marking their position for the pilot. Once it had landed, Dan picked Libby up and carried her to the chopper. The horror of the fire lived in her and she clung mutely to Dan all the way back to base camp, finally falling into a deep, dark slumber.

  Libby stirred, immediately brought awake by the protest of her stiff, abused muscles. Opening her eyes, she recognized the ceiling of Dan’s bedroom. Simultaneously she realized she was in his bed. Soothing sounds entered her mind. She recognized Dvořák’s New World Symphony playing in the background, the music drifting through the partially opened door from the living room. It was day; sunlight was filtering through the curtains. She heard footsteps and rolled onto her back, looking toward the door.

  “I thought you were never going to wake up,” Dan said, worry evident in his voice. He sauntered in, freshly shaven, his hair dark and damp from a recent shower. “You realize it’s almost eleven, Druidess?” he teased, sitting on the bed and placing his arm on the other side of her body so she couldn’t escape.

  She blinked, remembering the fire. All of it. Her brown eyes darkened with those memories as she searched Dan’s rugged features. He had saved her life. Without his quick thinking, she would have died. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Hey,” Dan crooned, leaning over and brushing the tears away, “what’s this?”

  Libby sniffed, relishing the feel of his strong but gentle hand against her face. “It was awful!” she croaked, more tears coming.

  Dan nodded gravely. “I know,” he whispered, taking her into his arms. Dan held her close, rocking her gently back and forth, allowing her to cry out the fears created by the fire. He stroked her hair, marveling at its golden color, saddened that some of it would have to be cut because the fire had scorched it. She still smelled of mud and of smoke, but he didn’t care; he was grateful that she was alive. The warmth of her body against him created a renewed longing, coupled with a desire to always protect Libby against anything that might cause her pain.

  Dan kissed her wet cheek. “I know what will help,” he murmured. “A bath. Maybe, if you get cleaned up, you’ll feel a little better. And if you’re real good, I’ll fix you a breakfast of pancakes with dried apples and nuts in them. Is that a deal?”

  Libby sniffed, having no success at banishing the tears from her eyes. Nodding, she mumbled brokenly, “Okay. I’m sorry, Dan.... It was all so horrible.... I—”

  “Don’t apologize, honey.” He sighed heavily, releasing her. “I’m afraid that you’ll have a few nasty nightmares because of the fire. It’s a pretty common occurrence after you’ve encountered something like that.”

  She nodded. “What about Trevor?”

  “He’s alive,” Dan growled. “We found him at the last minute.”

  “Is the fire out yet?”

  “No. But they’ve got it under control and contained. The winds have died down and that helped a lot.” He reached over, stroking her velvety cheek. “Come on, my beautiful druidess, let’s get you a bath and some clean clothes.”

  It felt heavenly to luxuriate in the soothing perfumed water, washing away the evidence of the day before. Libby emerged refreshed and in a better frame of mind. Dan had placed his dark blue terry-cloth robe on the hook, and she shrugged into it. It hung on her, but it was bulky and felt protective. And r
ight then she needed that sense of security. After combing her wet hair, Libby joined Dan in the kitchen.

  “Mmm,” she said, sniffing the air, “it smells wonderful.”

  Dan looked across his shoulder, giving her an appreciative glance. “You look wonderful. Take a chair—the pancakes are about ready.”

  She ate ravenously, surprised at her own appetite. They lingered over coffee, their elbows touching at the table. The meal was filling.

  “How do you feel?” Dan asked.

  “Sore, tired and a little more stable.” She gave him a searching look. “I owe you my life, Dan.”

  He shrugged. “Is my druidess going to go serious on me?” he teased.

  Her brown eyes became shadowed as she studied his ruggedly handsome face. “Yes. I want to know what happened. How did you find me?”

  Dan put the mug of coffee on the table, becoming pensive. “One of my chopper pilots spotted Bates on his way back to base. It was a lucky fluke, because we had given up the search in that area. Once they landed back here, I questioned Bates as to your whereabouts.”

  Libby grimaced. “We had an argument. I tried to tell him it was foolhardy to go back toward that fire. He didn’t believe me.”

  “Well, the guy got enough first—and second-degree burns to prove he was wrong,” Dan growled.

  Libby’s eyes widened. “Oh, no!”

  Dan picked up her hand, turning it. “He’s at a local hospital and will recover. You didn’t escape without a few burns yourself. Or didn’t you notice?”

  Amazed, Libby saw that the backs of her hands were pink with first-degree burns. Dan gently pulled the robe back, exposing her neck and shoulders.

  “Here, too. I’ll put some special burn lotion on those areas in a few minutes. At least it will take the sting out of them.”

  “And what about you?” she demanded. “You placed yourself between me and the fire at the lake.”

  “I had borrowed a Nomex fire-retardant flight suit—the kind the smoke jumpers use. It kept me from getting some nasty second—and third-degree burns. I got a few first-degree burns on my neck, that’s all.”

  Libby tilted her head, perplexed. “Flight suit?” Suddenly the image of Dan running out of the smoke toward her flashed through her mind.

  “I know the head ranger who works with the Smokies. I explained the situation to him and they loaned me a suit and a parachute pack and took me up in a plane. I jumped at thirty-five hundred feet and landed about half a mile from the position I had plotted.”

  Her eyes widened enormously. “With all that heat, Dan? My God, you could have been killed! That wind was gusting like a tornado above the trees....” Her voice became choked with tears as she stared at him. How much he must love her to risk his life in such a perilous jump.

  He reached out, capturing her free hand. “It was risky,” he admitted. “But everything went well. I got rid of the pack and helmet, running toward the area where I thought you would be. Before the jump I tried to estimate how long it might have taken you to make that trek under those conditions. As it turned out, I was pretty much on target. He grimaced. “A hundred other things could have happened, Libby. I didn’t know if you lay exhausted somewhere up on the ridge, or if you were hurt—a broken leg...ankle...” He stopped, growing hoarse. He swallowed against a forming lump. “Libby, I loved you too much to lose you like that. It was worth any amount of risk to myself to find you.”

  She sniffed, fighting back the tears. “Oh, Dan, you silly, wonderful fool. You could have died, too. We were so lucky....”

  “I don’t know if it was luck or what,” he admitted quietly. “I heard you calling me right after I landed, Libby. I heard your voice so damn clearly that I just kept following it. I’m glad you were yelling for help. Otherwise I would probably never have gone back up the slope to find you. I was going to head down closer to the lake area. I figured you would be there.”

  She gave him a startled look, her lips parting in amazement “But I wasn’t yelling for help, Dan. I remember collapsing from exhaustion and bawling my eyes out as I lay on the ground. I never saw you jump from the plane or anything. The first time I knew you were there was when you yelled my name.”

  His eyes narrowed speculatively. The silence grew between them as he ran over in his mind the events of the day before. “No... I know I heard you calling me, Libby. You called my name at least six times. I swear—’’

  “But I didn’t, Dan.”

  They both stared at one another wordlessly. Libby felt her skin crawl and she shivered, suddenly stunned into introspection. Dan cradled her hand between his, caressing her fingers in the gathering quiet. He shook his head disbelievingly.

  “They say that if you are protected by tree spirits they will defend you in times of crisis. Maybe it was just my imagination yesterday, but maybe...”

  She stood up, unable to take it all in. Hers was a world of stark reality, not myth and fable. And yet... She went into the living room, turning and staring back at Dan. He got up and joined her. Taking her into his arms, Dan held her tightly.

  “I learned a long time ago that everything in the world isn’t so easily explained,” he murmured, nuzzling her hair, inhaling the fresh fragrance of her warm, pliant body. “And I know that when my smoke-jumping buddy Dave found me hanging unconscious in that tree, he swore he’d heard me yelling for help. That’s how he found me. And I was out cold all the time.” Dan gave a slight shake of his head. “Just thank God we’re alive and together,” he whispered.

  Libby nuzzled against the strength of his jaw, seeking, finding his mouth. She gloried in the sensation of strength that took her breath away as he responded to her overture. His hands roved the length of her torso, coming to rest against her straining breasts, teasing them lightly. Gently, Dan pulled her to the couch and took her back into his arms.

  “We still have plenty to talk about, my druidess,” he murmured, stroking her hair, watching the golden highlights as the sun struck the top of her head.

  Libby’s breath was shallow from his fiery, branding kiss. Her heartbeat gradually slowed as she snuggled more deeply into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “Believe me,” she answered throatily, “I was repeating a litany of my own when I was running from that fire, Dan. I had a million things to tell you,” she admitted, melting beneath his tender gaze.

  “I found myself doing the same thing, Lib.” He frowned, unsure of where to begin. “Up until the time I met you, I didn’t want much from a woman except a good time in bed. And then you came smashing into my life.” A slight smile curved his mouth. “You didn’t know anything about the world I lived in; yet, you took to it like the proverbial fish to water. At first I didn’t want to be saddled with you, even though I was interested in taking you to bed.”

  Libby gave him a scalding look and he laughed good-naturedly.

  “Hey, lady, I’m being honest with you.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “And I was right: You have a gorgeous body and the love you make is free and natural,” he murmured. “That was what hooked me on you—your naturalness. Most of the women I had known played games. You didn’t. In the end your honesty forced me to look at myself and what I really wanted out of life.” He moved his strong fingers up her arm. “And I want you, my golden-haired druidess. I want you to be my wife and to live with me in these mountains. I know we can be happy.”

  Tears welled up in her wide, lustrous eyes. “I never thought—” She choked back a small sob. “I never thought you would want me for your wife, Dan.”

  He cocked his head to one side, a frown forming. “Why?”

  She gave an embarrassed shrug, sitting up to wipe away her tears. “Oh, because you made it very plain up on that ridge after the first time we made love that you weren’t about to get ‘saddled,’ as you put it, with any serious relationships.”

  He scratched his head, trying to recall the conversation. “Lib, you asked me about my past. That was how I felt then. But it
certainly wasn’t how I felt about you!” He ruffled her hair. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked gruffly, taking her into his arms and squeezing her tightly.

  Libby closed her eyes, loving his ability to be so openly affectionate. “Marry me, I guess,” she murmured.

  “I intend to do that whether you like it or not,” he chuckled. “Matter of fact, before this whole thing blew up over the condor-and-turkey-buzzard fiasco, I was planning on coming to San Francisco with this.’’ He produced a small hand-carved redwood box. “Here, open it,” he urged, placing it in her hands.

  Her heart raced as she stared up at Dan and then down at the beautifully crafted box with the tiny golden latch. “Did you carve this?” she wanted to know.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “I had two months on my hands without the woman I loved, so I whittled a lot. ‘Idle hands...’ Well, you know how that goes,” he laughed ruefully.

  Libby laughed with him, delighting in the design. Her fingers trembled imperceptibly as she sprung the latch and opened the case. The dark gleaming depths of an oval emerald ring sparkled back at her. Libby gasped, delicately touching the gorgeous gemstone. “Oh...Dan...”

  He watched her closely. “Do you like it?” he asked.

  Libby took the ring from the box, holding it up to the sunlight “Like it?” she said. “I love it! It’s so beautiful! Look at the different colors...” She gazed up at him, adoration in her brown eyes. “I never expected...” she began lamely.