by Mari Carr
Then James continued to try to explain. “One of my first seasons, a bunch of smaller fires broke out near Crowheart, so your dad decided to do a garbage dump. Drop us down in two-man teams to battle the blazes at the ass-crack of dawn. Me and my jump partner, Charlie, managed to scratch ours out by late afternoon. It wasn’t a bad one. Helicopter comes to pick us up and the plan is to gather everybody, camp out, and then head home in the morning. Most of us were back by nightfall, and we’re setting up the tents, looking forward to falling into those sleeping bags. Next thing you know, a few trucks roar up and a bunch of locals pile out. They’d brought us cake and pie and big pots of coffee. One guy even snuck me a flask of whiskey. They were from some of the nearby ranches, and they wanted to thank us for saving their land. Up until then, I thought I was just doing a job, you know? Jumping out of planes because it was cool. But that was when I started to realize that what we did mattered. I was helping people. Kind of hard to describe how good that felt.”
His response…was perfect. It was what made her love him so much.
Ivy froze as the words struck her with the force of a two-ton truck.
Love.
She was totally and completely in love with James Compton.
Before she could make sense of that, a siren wailed loudly and she jerked with surprise.
James didn’t. Instead, he rose, bent over to give her a kiss and said, “Duty calls.”
Ivy remained in her seat, though she could see all the jumpers on the base rushing around outside. Trucks were loaded as they all raced to the airstrip. She knew from experience the plane engines would be firing up, piercing the quiet evening. For twenty minutes, it was madness, noise, chaos.
And then it was silence.
Ivy wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there. Evening had given way to true night, but she didn’t leave. She couldn’t.
Dad walked in for a cup of coffee, giving her a look of surprise when he spotted her sitting there.
“I didn’t know you were still here.”
“Is it a bad one?” she forced herself to ask.
Dad shrugged. “Bad enough. If they can’t tamp it down in the next few hours, we might be in trouble. Problem is the wind right now. If it dies down…”
She winced when he said the word “dies.” He noticed, and his words drifted to nothing.
“You should go home, Scout. Get some sleep. Jamie’s going to be fighting this thing for a few days at least.”
“Can I stay here?”
After the divorce, her father had sold their home and moved into a cabin on the base full-time. Whenever she came home for the holidays after that, she slept on the pullout couch in his living room.
“Are you sure you want to do that? There’s not going to be a lot of,” he paused as if searching for some innocuous word, “activity going on around here.”
They were all gone. Off fighting that damn fire. “I don’t care.” She wasn’t leaving. God, she couldn’t leave. Too many things were bubbling to the surface. She stood quickly. “I won’t be in the way.”
“That’s not what I meant,” her dad hastened to say, but Ivy was already moving toward the door. He’d be tied up in his office all night, which meant she would be alone in his cabin. If she could just get there before she fell apart completely…
Ivy remained in her father’s cabin for two days.
Sleep eluded her, and even though Dad had brought her tray after tray of food, she hadn’t managed to keep any of it down. Her head ached, her eyes were bone-dry from a lack of rest, and her stomach was in knots.
She played out so many death-by-fire scenarios, she feared she was losing it. It was an insane thing to do, but she couldn’t stop her mind from rolling out the images like some goddamn movie. Sometimes it was James dying in the flames, sometimes it was Jem, then her dad.
Last night, she’d been the one consumed to ash. Funny how that one frightened her less.
She looked up when the screen door slammed. Her dad stood at the threshold, smiling.
“The fire’s out. The boys are hiking to the vehicles with the equipment and I’m sending the transports to pick them up. Jamie should be home in a few hours.”
It was obvious Dad considered his announcement good news. She tried to find the appropriate response. All she could muster was a weak smile and a nod.
“Why don’t you get a shower? I’m sure you’re going to be a sight for sore eyes when Jamie gets back. I gotta head back to the office. See you later.”
She didn’t move for several minutes after her father’s departure. Glancing down, she understood his shower comment. She was wearing the same clothes she’d shown up in the night she and James had shared a cup of coffee. They were wrinkled and stained. And she didn’t care.
Numbly, she stood and searched for her truck keys. She had to get out of here.
Firing it up, she headed along the base road. A left turn would lead her to town and her apartment. A right turn would…
She turned right, not stopping until she reached the trailhead. The fire Jamie had just fought had happened nearly a hundred miles away, cutting a swath of destruction, while this part of the forest was quiet, peaceful, and green.
Parking in the small lot, she climbed out and walked the familiar path without thinking until she stood before the tree.
For forty-eight hours, she’d sat like a stone, living in the worst sort of hell, waiting for her heart to be ripped out. Again.
Through it all, she hadn’t shed a tear.
She stared at the scarred tree until she couldn’t hold it back any longer. Everything exploded out of her in a scream as she lunged forward, beating the sides of her hands against the rough bark until they bled. The fight drained out of her slowly, like water seeping through a plugged pipe.
Once it was gone, the tears came.
And they didn’t stop.
James sat in the back of the truck, fighting to keep his eyes open. He had foolishly volunteered to ride all the way back to the base in the truck that was towing the heavier equipment. Something he was regretting now. He was weary to the bone and still not quite close enough to his bed. They’d need to unload and unpack the supplies and then he’d spend at least thirty minutes standing under a hot shower, trying to wash off layers of black soot, grime and sweat.
They were still quite a few miles away from the turn off to the base when something caught his eye.
“Wait a minute,” he said to Butch, who was behind the wheel. “Pull over.”
“What’s wrong?” Butch asked.
Ivy’s beat-up truck was parked in the same lot where he’d met her. He was exhausted, worn out beyond belief—and pissed as hell that she’d go off traipsing through the woods by herself.
“Let me out here. I’ll make my own way back.”
Butch was surprised by the request, but didn’t argue. James climbed out and took off toward the trailhead, his aching feet forgotten in his anger.
He didn’t bother to mute his footsteps as he clomped through the woods toward the tree. Despite that, she didn’t seem to hear him approach.
He opened his mouth to blast her for taking such a dangerous risk, but something about her posture stopped him. She was kneeling in front of the tree, her pose looking like that of someone praying. Her head was bowed and as he got closer, he realized she was shaking.
No. Not shaking.
Crying.
“Ivy?” he whispered, anger giving way to terror. Something was wrong. Really fucking wrong.
She didn’t respond, so he repeated her name, louder.
“I can’t do this.” She didn’t turn around, didn’t look in his direction. Her voice was hoarse, low, hard to hear.
“Do what, baby?”
“Wait for you to come home. I’m not strong enough.”
She was turned away from him, still huddled as if by tucking herself into a ball, she could protect herself.
“Look at me, Ivy.”
She shook her head.
“I can’t!” she yelled.
He walked over to her slowly, then knelt next to her. He gasped when he caught sight of her bloody hands. “You’re hurt.”
She clenched them together and refused to face him. He didn’t need her to. Just her profile was enough to tear his goddamn guts out. She was wrecked. Completely.
Her hair was tangled, matted around her face, and the one eye he could see was swollen, puffy from hours of crying. Her face was pale and her shoulders hunched over as if someone had just knocked all the air out of her.
James reached out, unable to let her remain there, looking so lost and alone.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, cupping her face with his other hand as he drew it to his chest. She didn’t fight the embrace. Instead, she fell into it and fresh tears fell.
She sobbed loudly, and James wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so much sorrow. He let her cry, let her get it all out. Keeping her tucked tightly in his arms, he didn’t talk beyond a soft, “shhh” and “I’m here.”
Once she stilled, he gently disentangled, keeping his hands on her upper arms to hold her upright. “Tell me.”
Her gaze lifted to his. “My brother, Jem, was a smokejumper. He died here. Right here. In a fire.”
Every piece fell into place.
“Jesus. Ivy. I didn’t know.”
“I know,” she said, her voice too wooden, too devoid of emotion. He was used to her fire, her spunk, her passion. Seeing her like this hurt. “Lightning struck the tree. It was a small fire, near the end of the season. They didn’t even need to jump in. Jem and his jump partner, Jasper, got here first. The fire had burned down the trunk and the wind was picking up, spreading embers. They started scratching out a line and putting out the hot spots. His back was turned so he didn’t see…” She licked dry lips and closed her eyes as she said the last. “The top part of the tree when it came down on him.”
“Fuck,” James murmured, but Ivy didn’t stop talking. Now that the words were coming, it seemed as if there was no stopping them.
“He was trapped under the trunk and the flames. Another guy on the squad at the time, Jasper couldn’t get him out, got third-degree burns on his hands trying. Dad was the next one on the scene.”
James couldn’t begin to imagine what Roscoe must have felt, seeing his son trapped, burned.
“Dad doesn’t talk about that day. I only know about it from Jasper. God, Dad doesn’t even talk about Jem. He can’t bring himself to hang Jem’s picture on the…” She waved her hand around.
James knew what she was talking about. He’d seen the photos of the men who’d perished doing the job. It was one of the first things they showed the new recruits in training camp. No one was allowed to go up until they fully understood the dangers of the job.
“Roscoe never said anything. Even when he was training me as a rookie.”
“For a couple years after, everyone knew. But those guys retired or transferred to other bases in other states until there was no one left from those days. Dad has erased every memory of Jem. I guess it’s his way of dealing with it, and everyone seems to know. The people who knew Jem, knew what happened, don’t say anything out of respect for my dad.”
“And you?”
“I’m more like my mom. I just run away when it gets too hard.”
Her parents divorced when she was sixteen. Ten years ago. Because of Jem’s death. In one year, she’d lost everything.
“The whiskey?” James had spent months wondering about that bottle of Jack Daniel’s.
“The day we met was…” She sucked in a wobbly breath. “It was Jem’s birthday. I thought he and I could share a drink.”
Now James understood her red-rimmed eyes when she’d returned to the trail. He understood it all.
“I can’t see you anymore.”
James expected her words, had known they were coming. That didn’t mean they didn’t slice him to ribbons.
“Ivy,” he said fiercely. “I’ll quit.”
She shook her head. “No. You won’t. And even if you do, this is still over.”
“But—”
“I saw your face when you talked about your reasons for jumping. They were good. They were right. This job is who you are. You’re brave and strong and selfless. All those things that make me love you.”
Those words were probably the best he’d ever heard. They were also the worst because he knew what was coming next.
“But they’re also the reasons I can’t be with you. I know that probably makes me weak—”
“No.” He refused to hear her disparage herself. Especially about this. “You’re not weak, Ivy.”
She tried to rise, but after so long on the ground, her muscles had stiffened. James felt the same painful tightness. He used the tree for support, pushing himself up, then he leant a hand to help her.
“I can’t ask you to give up who you are. I would never do that. God, you’d resent me for it. I’d resent me for it. But I can’t…lose you to one of these fires too. It would kill me.” She whispered the last four words as if they physically hurt to say.
He fought desperately for some response. He hadn’t lied. He would give up the job for her. But he knew her too well. Knew she would never let him do that. And part of him wondered if she was right, if he’d eventually come to hate her for forcing him to make that decision.
No. He wouldn’t hate her. But it didn’t change the facts. If he quit, she’d still push him away, and then he’d be without her and the job.
And that was when James understood that she was right. Some hurdles were insurmountable.
They walked back to the parking lot in silence. She offered him a ride back to base and he accepted. Neither of them spoke, and as she made the turn to the base, he asked her to stop. She pulled over and the truck engine stalled out. They offered each other a ghost of a smile, recalling his insistence that her truck was a piece of shit.
The moment passed quickly as he opened the door and climbed out.
“I’ll walk the rest of the way. I need…I need some time.”
She looked like she might argue, but instead she shrugged before lifting her crystal-blue eyes to his. “I’m so sorry, Jamie.”
He nodded. “Me too.”
After a couple of false starts, the ancient engine finally roared to life. She gave him one last sad smile.
Then, he watched her turn the truck around, kicking up dust on the road as she drove away.
He looked around, feeling gutted, dazed for a few minutes before reaching into his back pocket for his cell.
He slid his finger along his contacts, not sure what it was that had him searching for just one number. Ordinarily, he’d hit up his brother and his cousins, the three guys who’d helped him hash out more than his fair share of female problems in the past. But this was bigger than that.
Ivy’s pain was bone-deep. She wouldn’t ask him to give up smokejumping. But he couldn’t ask her to sit at home and wait for him either.
Jesus. He never wanted to see her so broken, so devastated again.
He knew who he needed to talk to.
Unlike his own generation, Jake wasn’t a fan of video chat, so James went old school and simply gave the man a call as he started walking down the road that would lead him back to base.
“You in trouble?” was Jake’s greeting.
He didn’t blame Jake for the question. It was rare for James to call him. And yeah, pretty much every single one of those calls had involved him needing some help.
“No.”
His quick reply obviously caught Jake off guard. “Butt dial?”
James appreciated the humor, but he couldn’t find it in him to laugh. His chest ached. “No. I called you.”
“Got something on your mind?”
“There’s this woman—”
“Aw hell. Here we go. Who’d you piss off? Father? Brother?”
“What?” James asked. “No. Nothing like that. Well
, I mean her dad is my boss, but—”
“You don’t have the sense God gave a flea, do you? Why would you start messing around with—”
“It’s not like that, Jake.” James glanced around at the surrounding forest. It was peaceful, still, the complete opposite of the whirlwind of emotions and turmoil spinning around inside him like a tornado.
Something in his tone must have told Jake this was serious. “What is it, James?”
“Her name is Ivy. I’m in love with her.”
“It’s about damn time. If it’s any consolation, you’re not alone. Austin showed up here with a girl a few days ago.”
“Yeah, I know.” James had met Hayden when she’d accidentally answered Austin’s phone a few hours before the fire call, before his entire life had imploded.
“Given your tone, I’d say the path to true love isn’t going any better for you than Austin. You boys didn’t really think it would be easy, did you?”
Jake didn’t mince words. It was one of the reasons James had called him. The other had to do with Jake’s past.
“She doesn’t date smokejumpers.”
“She give you a reason why?”
James nodded, then realized Jake couldn’t see him. Talking on the phone without the video feature was always hard for him to get the hang of. “Yeah. Her brother was one too. Killed while fighting a fire.”
“Shit,” Jake whispered. “Poor girl. So…what are you going to do about it?”
James grinned sadly. “That’s sort of why I called you.”
Jake huffed. “You’re not a kid anymore, James. You don’t need me to tell you what to do. You think she can learn to live with it? The smokejumping?”
James recalled the utter devastation in her eyes as she sat by that damn tree. While she was one of the strongest women he’d ever known, that was because she knew her limits, knew exactly how much she could take before she broke. Her brother’s death had set a hard limit. And in truth, there was no way he could jump into the fire knowing she was at home, dying a million deaths as she worried about him. How could he knowingly put her through that every time the siren blew?
“No. She can’t.”
“Can you live without the smokejumping?”
James honestly didn’t know the answer to that. Smokejumping gave his life purpose, gave him his identity in a way working on the family ranch never had.