by Tessa Layne
He pressed the radio again. “Tony. Can you see anything from where you are?”
“Negative. But the wind feels shifty.”
Parker checked the clock on his radio. Fifteen forty-seven. Something must have happened. Parker could feel it. He’d worked enough wildfires in the last five years to believe the lore about fires fighting back in the late afternoon. And always when you were least expecting it.
They counted heads and started uphill toward the road. In the distance, they could hear chainsaws from the next crew over still running. By the time they reached the road, smoke lingered in the air. Question was, where was it coming from?
“We’ve reached Sand Creek. How long ’till we meet the trucks?”
“Head to the safety zone. Fire to our south made a downhill run and crossed the gully.”
Complex fires like this one were the worst. There was enough smoke in the air from the other fires nearby, they couldn’t get a visual on their situation. They had to rely on air support and the Incident Commander to be their eyes and ears. “Copy that. Will the engines meet us there?”
“As soon as it’s safe.”
A big gust of hot air pushed at him from behind. Not at all what he wanted to feel as they were heading out. Winds like that could accelerate a fire in seconds, trapping them. A horn honked behind them, and the crew stepped to the sides. The sawyers were bugging out too. That only meant one thing, the fire was growing exponentially.
Parker motioned for the passenger to roll down his window. “Are you headed to the safety zone?”
The guy nodded. “They’re holding all traffic along the road for the time being. The fire’s making a run. You need a ride?”
Damn. All their work from the last three days would literally go up in smoke. This summer had been the driest on record across the west. Parker shook his head. “Nah. We’re twenty. Looks like you could only take six or seven of us. We’ll see you there.”
He turned to Mike and Tony. “Let’s kick it up a notch. Fire’s making a run. Nothing to be concerned about yet, but I don’t want to have to tuck tail and sprint like we did in Hutch.”
Mike grinned. “Sure thing.” He turned and headed to the rear to pass the word. By the time they reached the safety zone ten minutes later, the smoke was thick and the sky above them dark with smoke.
“It’s gonna get hot, but we’re safe here,” the crew supervisor called out hoarsely. “I want everyone to keep their Personal Protection Equipment close. If we get a crown fire above us, we may need to deploy our shelters. We’ve got air tankers dropping retardant to slow the head fire’s advance uphill.”
Over the din, Parker could make out the whine of the engines. It heartened him, the way everyone pulled together during a fire event. His team, dubbed the Flatlanders by the Pine Ridge hotshot crew, was developing a reputation for swift, aggressive work.
“Who’s a medic around here?”
Tony nudged him.
Tony was a medic too. As structural firefighters, technically everyone on his crew was a medic, which made his team unlike any other on the Forest Service roster. But since he was the crew boss, when they were together, the guys always deferred to him. Parker stepped forward. “I’m carrying first-aid. What do you need?”
A man he didn’t recognize motioned him over. “Can you take a look at this? We were scrabbling uphill, and Ali here slipped in a tree root hole. Wrenched it good.”
Parker shrugged off his pack and dropped to his knees. “Ali, can you roll up your pant leg?”
The young woman complied. Her sock was blood-soaked. Parker fished out an alcohol wipe and gloves. After cleaning his hands and donning the gloves, he gently pulled down the sock. She winced but didn’t cry out. “Okay, you’ve got a nasty gash there that will need stitches. I’m gonna clean it out and butterfly it for now. You’ll need to go to first aid as soon as we get back to base camp.”
The smoke grew heavier as he worked, and all around him, firefighters began to don their shrouds to breathe cleaner air. Sweat trickled down his back. Keeping his voice light, he spoke. “This your first year working fires, Ali?” She didn’t look much over twenty. Her dark eyes snapped in pain.
She shook her head. “Second. I want to be on the Pine Ridge hotshots next year.”
“Good luck to you. I’m going to try and move your ankle now.”
She nodded and set her jaw, crying out as soon as he moved it. If it wasn’t broken, it was certainly sprained. And her boot was probably offering the best compression and traction they could provide out here.
He stood and offered his hand, assisting her up. “Let’s get you to the truck bed. It’s better than a litter.”
A nervous energy ran through the crowd. Firefighters weren’t used to standing down. It wasn’t in their nature to sit back and wait, and Parker could sense the impatience and concern rising among them. Once Ali was settled he sought out the crew supervisor. “How much longer? Can you feel the energy?”
The man nodded. “Air says winds are shifting again. As soon as they can verify the column of smoke isn’t making an uphill run, we can get the hell out of here and back to camp.”
Parker breathed a sigh of relief. The smoke cast an eerie glow, and even though they were all trained wildfire fighters, it wouldn’t take much to push people into panic mode.
Five minutes later, they got the green light to head out. When the crews, about sixty total, stood gathered in the briefing area an hour later, the mood was somber.
The Division Supervisor walked out of the tent and stepped onto a makeshift platform. “I’m sure some of you’ve already heard that the fire south of us exploded into a runaway crown fire when the wind picked up. A sawyer squad became cut off from their escape route and their safety zone, and deployed their shelters.”
Bile roiled in Parker’s stomach. Disquiet rolled through the group. The supe wouldn’t have gathered everyone if the news was good. He fisted his hand against his leg, bracing for the words he knew were coming.
“We have three confirmed fatalities.”
One of the young women gasped. The rest stood silent, absorbing the news. A wave of emotion rolled over Parker as the faces of his team flashed through his mind. What if it had been one of them? Fatalities in firefighting while rare, were an accepted part of the job. You learned to live with the danger, you trained, and you always practiced safety. But there were no guarantees.
“This is a very serious job we have. I want you to look around at the people next to you.”
Feet shuffled against the hard dirt as they all made eye contact with each other. The eyes of the woman to his left glistened with unshed tears. Parker snuck a glance at Tony and Mike. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to one of them.
The supe cleared his throat. “We do this job because we love it. And sure, it can be fun. But never lose sight of the fact that you may not see the people working next to you again if something goes wrong.”
The supe’s words hung in the air like smoke with no wind. Settling over them heavy and harsh. “People will go their entire lives, their entire careers without deploying their shelters or being put in a situation like what happened this afternoon. Hell, I’ve never had to deploy my shelter. And I damn well don’t want anything like this to happen on my watch. Obviously, there will be a full investigation and debriefing so that we can learn from this incident. In the meantime, we’ve suspended the night time crews until we have better lines of communication in place and new safety zones set up.”
A low murmur ran through the crowd. The supe held up his hand. “Families of the victims have been notified. I suggest you call your loved ones. Let them know you’re okay. And then I want you to huddle with your squads and review safety protocol and lines of communication. Let’s end with a moment of silence for our fallen comrades.”
Parker’s throat grew tight as the crowd quieted. He didn’t even know these guys. But he hurt almost as much as when he’d lost Uncle Warren, or his dad. T
his could have been him. Or Tony. Or Mike. Or God forbid, Cassie. Grief punched him in the gut. He could handle anything but losing her. She filled a space inside his heart that he didn’t even know he had. His hand twitched, itching to call her. The need to hear her voice blocked out all other thought.
Slowly, the group dispersed, huddling in twos and threes, discussing the news in hushed tones. A wail went up a few yards away, stealing Parker’s breath. Someone had known one of the casualties. The fire community was small, and when someone went down, it hurt them all. He swallowed down the bile that rose up the back of his throat. This night would stick with him a long time. He wove his way through the activity looking for a quiet spot. After a moment, he found a picnic bench in a little stand of trees. His eyes automatically assessed the underbrush as a threat, but he shook himself. They were safe here.
Pulling out his cell phone, he prayed for just a few bars. Cell phone coverage was notoriously spotty in this section of the Black Hills. But hopefully, with the extra towers the BLM had brought in, he’d get a good connection, even with everyone else making calls too.
His thumb hovered over Cassie’s number, as he contemplated her smiling face. Right before the crew had left for this job, he’d snapped a pic of her laughing, and stuck it in his contacts. It was a goofy picture, but it made him smile every time he’d looked at it. And he’d looked at it a lot while he’d been gone.
She picked up on the first ring, the smile in her voice coming through loud and clear. “Hey there. Found any gold in them there hills?”
The sweetness and laughter in her voice grabbed him by the throat, and for a second he couldn’t speak.
“Park?” she asked sharply, voice suddenly filled with concern.
He dragged a hand through his hair and took a big breath trying to steady himself. He sat down on the table, resting his feet on the bench. “Hi. I… I just wanted to hear your voice.” His teeth hurt from the effort it took to keep his cool.
“Is everything okay?”
He pushed out another breath. “I… no.” The lump pressing against his chest grew so big he couldn’t speak.
“What is it?” He could hear the fear in her voice, and it was enough to pull him back from the brink. “I’m okay. The team is okay.”
“Park. What happened?”
“Make sure mom knows? And Gunn? It’ll be hitting the news soon, if it hasn’t already. We lost three on the line today.”
“Oh Park. I’m so sorry.”
She went quiet, and he appreciated that. Just her presence on the phone was enough. After a while, she spoke. “How can I help?”
“I just want to hear your voice. Talk to me.”
“Okay, let’s see. I took Big Boy on his first ride outside the pen today.”
“How’d that go?” He could feel himself coming back from the edge, letting her voice wash over him like a healing balm.
“Not too bad. I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve started to look forward to our daily visits. I feel like he gets me.”
“That’s great, Cass.”
“In fact, I’m trying to talk Hope into letting me keep him. We’re supposed to be training these horses for an extreme mustang event, but Winny’s getting really old, and… I don’t know… maybe another horse would be nice.”
A pang of guilt dug at him. He’d been gone on so many wildfires this summer, he’d had to ask Hope to finish training Nutmeg. He still hoped he could get reacquainted with the horse once fire season was over. To be honest, he didn’t see an end to the fires until well into the fall.
“Park? You still there?”
“Yeah, sorry. I was thinking about Nutmeg.”
“Nutmeg’s doing great. I’m sorry you can’t see her.”
“I’m sorry I can’t see you,” he mumbled. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the weeks on the line, or because everything felt so much more intense tonight in light of the fatalities, but he was overcome with the need to get squared away. “Cass, what do you see down the line?”
“What do you mean?” Her voice grew wary.
“I mean. What do you see for yourself? Where do you see yourself?”
“I don’t know… I haven’t thought much about it.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He had no right to ask this. But if he died on the line tomorrow, he’d regret with every cell in his body not asking. “Where do you see us, Cass?”
Silence unfurled between them. He charged ahead. “I want to come home to you at night, or at the end of a shift. I want your smile to be the first thing I see in the morning. I don’t want to have to flip a coin to decide where we’re sleeping at night.” Emotion spun up through his body, rushing out of him. He should stop talking. But he couldn’t. “I want to know that if something happens to me, you’ll be taken care of. I don’t even know if you want children, but if you do, I want to be their dad. I want a life with you, and if I go down tomorrow, I want you to know I love you with everything I have.” His voice caught.
Fucking fuckballs.
He pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead and waited for her to speak. This wouldn’t go well. It was too soon for her. But he didn’t care. If he’d scared her off, he’d figure out how to reel her back. He only felt relief. Like a big weight had been taken off his chest. And whatever happened on the line tomorrow, or the next day, or the next week, she needed to know how he felt.
“You’re it for me, Cassie. And if I’m not it for you…” he heaved a sigh, not wanting to think about how that would hurt. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I…”
His heart sank at the hesitation in her voice.
“I love you too, Park,” she said softly.
He held his breath. Waiting.
“I have to go. Be safe out there.”
CHAPTER 25
Parker’s leg bounced up and down impatiently. The last hour of a ride home always seemed to take the longest. Most of the crew was still passed out, and they all reeked of sweat and smoke. They’d driven all night to get home a day early. Arriving home in the early morning would technically give them an extra day of rest before they had to turn around and head out again. An extra day to spend with their family and friends.
All he wanted to do was take Cassie in his arms and hold her. The fatalities had shaken the team. Many of these guys had been first on the scene in the aftermath of the spring’s tornado, and had experienced loss themselves. But losing one of their own in a fire hit you in a different place. He had a lot to talk about with Cass. But only after he had a hot shower and breakfast with his mom. Pulling out his phone, he shot her a quick text.
P: Almost home. Are you busy?
Mom: So glad! And do you mean alone? Yes :D
He cringed again at the memory of walking in on his mom. At least he could laugh about it now.
P: You’ll be wearing clothes?
Mom: Buttoned up to my neck :D
P: Will you make pancakes?
Mom: I think it’s adorable you still want your mom to cook you breakfast.
P: If I’ve never said so, I love your breakfasts.
He might only have a few good meals before they had to turn around again. The National Interagency Fire Center had upped the preparedness levels to five, which meant there were too many fires and not enough resources to combat them.
The men piled out of the bus the second it stopped in front of the fire station, hurrying to stow their gear and get home. “Hold up guys,” Parker called as they started to disperse. “We’re at level five, so be prepared to head out again after our rest days.”
No one said anything, but he could see the exhaustion on their faces. And he worried about a few of the younger crew. “Anyone who’s not up for it, let me know by tomorrow afternoon so I can change our roster.” He paused, wrestling with what to say next. But then Cassie’s face came to mind. “And if you’re having trouble sleeping or concentrating, I can connect you to someone to talk to. No judgment, no questions asked.”
>
“Trading Post later?” Tony asked, stopping in front of his truck.
Parker shrugged, unsure if he was ready for a crowd. “I’m gonna stop by my mom’s then head over to Cassie’s. Text me later?”
He secured his pack to the back of his bike and took off down the road. He’d started to ride the Harley more since Cassie had asked for his help fixing up her dad’s Yamaha. Maybe the fact that she’d put up the Ducati for a while was a sign she was starting to slow down a bit. He hoped so.
A quick shower and a long conversation with his mother later, he turned onto the Graces’ drive. Anticipation wound through him. Was she still asleep? Could he slip in and kiss her awake? Would her skin smell like the lavender dryer sheets she used? Would she be naked? Or was that only when she slept with him?
They hadn’t spoken of his outburst in the ensuing days, and he’d purposefully kept their conversations and texts neutral. But now that he was home, they could have a heart to heart. He rolled the bike to a stop in front of the playhouse, excitement dissipating like a puff of smoke.
“What in the hell is this?”
There on the porch of the playhouse, sat Cassie, wrench in hand looking like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. In front of her was her dad’s vintage Yamaha, and next to it, looking decidedly worse for wear, was her Ducati.
“Well?” Anger surged through him. All it took was one look at the Ducati to see that she’d obviously laid it down. She’d fucking destroyed it. His stomach churned. She was lucky to be alive. In quick succession, all the pieces, all the questions that had gone unanswered, dropped into place like bearings in a lock. “When did this happen? Wait.” He held up his hand, hopping off his bike. “That’s why you were limping.”
“I’m fine, Park. That was weeks ago. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Like hell, it is,” he bit out. “First, you keep it from me, then you ask me to fix your dad’s bike? So you can keep going hell for leather and get yourself killed? Are you fucking kidding me?”