Troubled Waters

by Susan May Warren

  He’d been at loose ends for nearly a year now, since she walked out of his life.

  “I think you should sell the ranch and come back here. We miss you.” She glanced at Dex. “Right?”

  Dex had approved the wine and now lifted his glass. “To old friends.”

  “And Ian, no longer destitute,” Noelly said. She leaned close, whispered in his ear. “You belong here, in Texas, Ian. You always have.”

  He lifted his glass.

  Maybe it was time. He’d wanted to move a year ago, and then they’d found Dante’s body and reignited the search for Esme.

  But if Esme didn’t want to come home . . .

  And Sierra . . . she wouldn’t talk to him if he were the only other human on a desert island.

  “You’re probably right. Maybe it is time to move back.”

  Noelly gave him a soft smile, a twinkle in her eyes that he didn’t entirely hate.

  Ian was raising his glass when his phone buzzed. He lifted it out of his pocket and read the text from Sam.

  Oh no.

  “What now?” Dex said.

  “The PEAK chopper has gone down. And one of our EMTs is missing. I gotta go.”

  “Your chopper?”

  “Not anymore, but—yeah. My team. Or, they were. Now . . .”

  No, not even PEAK Rescue belonged to him anymore.

  Okay, maybe he really was destitute.

  “To starting over. In Texas,” Noelly said. Then she took his face in her soft hands and kissed him square on the lips.

  Jess Tagg had turned into a ghost.

  Or at least a member of the walking dead. Her body was covered head to toe in ash; it was ground into her skin, turning her blue PEAK uniform to gray. Even her lips tasted of the chalky debris of the massive Ranger Creek fire that had so far decimated over four thousand acres of pristine mountain forest on the eastern edge of Glacier National Park.

  Acreage that she’d spent the past six hours hiking around and through as she followed Ranger Creek, hopefully back to Going-to-the-Sun Road.

  At least she hoped she was following the right swath of land, because the creek had long ago disappeared in the canyon below, and she might simply be wandering, lost amid the blackened snags and desolate landscape of Goat Mountain.

  And then she might really turn into a ghost, haunting the Rocky Mountains with the moan of the wind . . .

  Oh, for crying out loud, now she was freaking herself out. Just because her stomach ached with hunger, her throat had turned into the Gobi Desert, and her hip had really started to hurt didn’t mean the PEAK team wouldn’t find her.

  She approached a boulder, checking it for residual heat before she slid onto it and turned on her radio. She’d lost reception not long after the crash and blamed it on the helicopter’s inability to relay her signal. Now she couldn’t find the sun because the smoke had turned the sky hazy. She could be walking straight for the flames for all she knew.

  “PEAK HQ, Jess Tagg, come in. PEAK HQ, this is Jess.”

  She closed her eyes, listening to the static, her heartbeat in her ears.

  Shoot.

  Not for the first time, she wished she’d played out the last year differently. Because then, maybe she’d be on the mountain with . . . well, with Pete.

  And he’d have come up with some brilliant idea on how to get them home.

  “Jess, this is Sierra! Come in.”

  Her walkie crackled to life, and Jess nearly dropped it. “I’m here.”

  “What’s your position? I’ve been calling you for hours.”

  “I’m sorry—I think I was out of range.”

  “Ty and Gage were searching Ranger Creek for you.”

  “No go. I couldn’t make it down to the creek. I had to climb up.”

  More like once she realized her severed rope would only get her halfway to the bottom, she didn’t want to chance it.

  She’d never been good at going down, looking back over her shoulder, anyway. Forward and up—her dad’s motto, and she’d really had no other choice.

  Looking back would only make her loosen her hold on everything she’d fought for. Make her question her sacrifices.

  “I climbed up along Goat Mountain. I’m following the canyon.”

  “You’re in the black? They put up radar of Goat Mountain—the entire thing is under smoke. They say the fire could reignite.”

  She knew that better than any eyes in the sky, or radar. She’d already stepped on a few hot spots, and with the sun falling, the mountain had started to glow like the eyes of Hades.

  And she was walking right through the furnace.

  How everything went south so quickly still turned Jess cold, but she took apart the events over and over, looking for a sign of trouble.

  The rope attaching the litter to the chopper whipping up as Jess and Gage loaded the second firefighter into the chopper.

  The explosion as the rope, tossed by the fractious winds, wound around one of the rotors.

  The jerk as the rotor tore, shearing the rope and yanking Jess off her feet as the tail swept just over her head.

  Had she not ended up on her backside, she might have been decapitated.

  Instead, she landed hard on her hip, the pain eclipsing her vision just long enough for her to miss Kacey’s amazing save, the way she muscled the chopper away from the edge, even as Gage pulled the litter to safety inside the chopper.

  And then, Kacey had no choice but to abandon Jess to the mountain as she fought to save her bird, her passengers.

  By some sheer divine intervention, they hadn’t crashed, but instead put down at a nearby campsite. Jess had heard that much before the mountains had cut out their coms.

  According to Sierra, Ben and Sam had taken the four-wheelers up the creek, through the burned area, to retrieve them. Now Ty and Gage searched the Ranger Creek area for Jess.

  “I know,” Jess said now. “I’m staying away from the fire. I’m following the creek along the western edge.”

  “That’s not Ranger Creek—that’s . . . wait a second, I’ll find you.”

  Jess could nearly see Sierra tucking her dark hair behind her ears, running her finger along the map.

  “I can see a mountain directly west of me.”

  “I think that’s Matahpi Peak. Which means you’re following Banning Creek. There’s a cabin at the mouth of the creek. Can you get there?”

  “Are you saying that you can’t get the guys in to me?”

  “We’re doing the best we can, Jess. But the chopper is out of commission and they’ve closed Going-to-the-Sun Road. We need to get you someplace safe to spend the night. That’s the best we can come up with.”

  Spend the night? She tried not to respond to those words with anything but courage, but the thought of spending the night on the mountain alone, with the wind whipping up and the temperatures dropping . . . “I’ll find the cabin.”

  Thankfully, she had her rescue pack with her. It included an emergency blanket and water.

  “Just keep heading south, along the creek. There’s a hiking trail—you shouldn’t be too far from it. It has switchbacks down to the creek. It’ll lead you right to the cabin. The guys will be there as soon as they can.”

  The guys. Ty Remington, their former pilot, and EMT and former snowboard champion Gage Watson.

  But not Pete Brooks. Because Pete had left eight months ago with hardly a good-bye to join the Red Cross Disaster Relief team.

  And she could only blame herself.

  Probably.

  Or maybe she was giving their former, short-lived romance too much credit—if you could call two scorching kisses and a day calling herself Pete’s girl a romance.

  Most likely, knowing Pete, she’d simply been one of the many in his long list. Like Tallie Kennedy, the local reporter. Or who knew how many other girls in the one-stoplight town of Mercy Falls.

  Really, she didn’t want to know.

  “We don’t leave team members behind. I promise we’ll fi
nd you.” Sierra’s urgent voice eked a smile out of Jess.

  “I’ll be there.”

  She got up, searched for the sun, saw fire in the sky, and thought she might be heading south.

  But for all she knew, she could be heading to Canada.

  Right now, that didn’t sound like such a terrible idea.

  Start over, again. Find another new name, new friends, maybe get a job as a real doctor.

  After all, no one in Canada would care about the legend of Selene Jessica Taggert. Just another ghost from the past.

  Gone. Buried.

  Never to be resurrected.

  She stepped over a log onto the soft, blackened soil, embers sizzling beneath her boots as the sparks shot up and caught in the wind.

  “I hope I didn’t just send one of my best friends right into the fire.”

  With those words by Sierra Rose, Pete Brooks nearly lost it. Because he’d heard Jess’s voice on the dispatch, and she sounded scared.

  And Jess Tagg didn’t scare easily.

  “Yeah, me too,” he snapped.

  Sierra turned, her hazel-green eyes widening. “Pete. I didn’t think anyone was here.”

  “I’m here.”

  “You . . . yes, you are.”

  He closed the door to the PEAK office behind him and quickly got the lay of the land. Red pins pressed into the topo map hanging on the wall, weather reports playing on the flat-screen. And Sierra, their office administrator, at dispatch?

  She was dressed in a pair of green forest service pants and a black T-shirt, like she’d been promoted. Printouts of fire and weather reports lay scattered across the counter.

  He kept his voice tight. “Tell me what happened.”

  Sure, he’d expected the PEAK team to be dispatched on some callout after half of Glacier National Park ignited. And yes, he’d come home from his last disaster event in Dawson, Montana, intending to pop in and hopefully figure out a way to get Jess alone for a long-overdue face-to-face.

  What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was the news that Jess was alone on a smoky, still-ignitable mountain.

  Yes, he knew that she still worked for PEAK, probably put herself in dangerous situations. It kept him up more nights than he wanted to admit.

  But to arrive home and discover that maybe he’d waited too long to summon the courage to tell her that he didn’t care about her past. That if she wanted to keep her secrets . . .

  Shoot. If she wanted to pretend her entire past didn’t exist, that her life began the day she met him, that was just fine, A-OK with him. As long as he didn’t have to wait one more day to tell Jess Tagg he couldn’t—didn’t want to—get her out of his system.

  “We lost her after the chopper went down,” Sierra said now.

  He didn’t even know where to start with that sentence. So he put his pack down on the floor. Focused on the most important part.

  “You lost her?”

  Sierra nodded. “We had a chopper accident earlier today—it went down near Ranger Creek.” She gave him a quick rundown of the rescue efforts, then, “Jess got separated from the team during the fall.”

  “So you left her there?”

  “We’re doing the best we can!”

  Pete schooled his voice. “Okay, okay.” He glanced over at the radar.

  Sierra swallowed. “According to predictions, the fire is heading east. I sent her to the ranger cabin at Banning Falls. She should be fine there, west of the fire.”

  “And what about the tail end? It could ignite and run over Goat Mountain, trapping Jess. I’ve spent years fighting fires, Sierra. You can try to predict them, but they’ll surprise you every time.”

  Sierra was still holding the radio, now looked at it. “I have to call Gage.”

  He nodded. Which was probably better than screaming.

  Especially when he listened to Sierra call in to Gage. Apparently, Gage and Ty had returned to McDonald Lodge and were regrouping as the rest of the team brought in the two firefighters to the hospital.

  “Regrouping, as in eating burgers and malts while Jess—”

  Sierra batted his words away, kept talking to Gage. “Can you get to the cabin?”

  Gage’s voice came over the line. “They closed Going-to-the-Sun Road right after we evac-ed the team.”

  Pete swiped the walkie out of Sierra’s grip. “Stay put. I’m coming to you. I know how to find her.” He shoved it back into her hands. “You tell me if you hear from her.”

  Sierra just nodded, her mouth in a tight line. “Thanks, Pete.” Her voice softened. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too, Sierra.”

  “I hope you’re back to stay.”

  He said nothing as he headed out the door toward the PEAK barn. He found his former boss, Chet King, on his cell phone and standing on the helipad. Chet glanced up at him with a frown as Pete walked in. Pete nodded to him and headed straight back for the last four-wheeler.

  He was astride and turning over the engine when Chet walked up, no cane, just a hitch to his gait. Apparently, some terrible injuries could heal.

  If he were honest, Pete had returned home with just that hope.

  “Pete,” Chet said, his hand extended. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was in the area, heard about Jess.”

  Chet nodded. “I just got off the phone with Miles. He’s working with your old outfit—the Jude County Hotshot crew—trying to contain the fire on the east end, near Saint Mary. Kacey and the team rescued a couple of their firefighters this afternoon.”

  “I heard. Crashed the chopper, left Jess behind.”

  “Hey.” Chet backed up as Pete turned the engine on. “We’re all worried about her. But Jess knows how to take care of herself. Ty and Gage will bring her home.”

  “No. I’ll bring her home,” Pete said.

  Chet raised an eyebrow. “Take a breath there, Pete. It does no one any good for you to go off half-cocked—”

  “I’m not.” Pete blew out a breath. “Fine. Jess and I have some unfinished business, and I don’t . . . I should have . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’m loading the four-wheeler into my truck and meeting Gage and Ty in the park. Sierra told her to go to the Banning ranger cabin, but they’ve shut down Going-to-the-Sun Road and I’m going to take us in on Gunsight Pass Trail.”

  Pete watched Chet do the mental mapping. Then, a nod of his head. “That’s a good idea. Come in from the south. That will hook up with the Continental Divide Trail, right to Banning Falls.”

  He was about to push off when Chet clamped him on the shoulder. “It’s about time you came back.”

  A terrible tightness squeezed Pete’s chest.

  Please let him not be too late.

  3

  “IT’S THAT BAD, HUH?”

  Sierra looked up, startled at the voice, and she froze, her spatula holding a cookie.

  Ian Shaw stood at the door, bathed in the porch light, dressed in a pair of black jeans and a heather-gray T-shirt that seemed painted onto his body.

  Oh, he looked good.

  So terribly unfair. Especially since she looked wrung out in her soiled apron, her eyes red and burning from the smoke of today’s fire and not enough sleep.

  And yes, she’d seen Ian plenty of times over the past year, but every single time she had to take a breath, brace herself. Tell herself anew that he didn’t belong to her. Never had. But when a girl arranged every aspect of his life, it sort of felt that way.

  Walking away from him left a tear in her she still hadn’t figured out how to mend. In a way, her daily prayers for him, the ones where she begged God to intervene in his life, show him he didn’t always have to be in charge and that he could trust God, were her way of balming the wounds.

  Prove she could love him from a distance and be just fine, thank you.

  “What do you mean?” she said, and managed to keep her voice from hitching.

  “PEAK HQ smells like cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. Which only means
one thing.” He closed the door behind him. “They haven’t found her.”

  She turned back to Ian. “You know about—”

  “Jess? Yeah. And the crash.” He slid onto the stool. “I was in Texas. I jumped on a plane as soon as I got the news.”

  She gave a quick nod, then wanted to grimace.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s just . . .” Shoot. “I knew that. I saw your Instagram feed. Dinner with Dex and Noelly?”

  She tried to keep her words casual. No problem that a beautiful socialite and cosmetics entrepreneur was crawling all over him. Noelly had posted pictures of them at some restaurant and tagged him on Instagram, and of course, they’d popped up in Sierra’s feed.

  “You follow me?” He had the audacity to sound surprised. Well, of course she did. She practically stalked him.

  But she shrugged. “I know I should unfollow you—it’s from those days when I tried to keep tabs on the social media about you. I have an old phone—”

  “Sierra. It’s going to be okay,” he said, neatly ignoring everything she’d just said. “We’re going to find Jess.”

  Oh. He knew her too well, her penchant to bake herself out of panic. And to babble.

  She sighed, blinked back the heat in her eyes, stared at the overflow of cookies. “I’ve run out of room on the counter.”

  “I see that,” he said quietly.

  Sierra grabbed her oven mitts, pulled another tray of gingersnaps from the oven, and set the tray on the counter. Stepped back.

  “I count six dozen chocolate chip cookies, another four dozen butterscotch, and sixty-plus gingersnaps. What’s that, about four hours’ worth?”

  She glanced at the clock. Sighed. “Yeah. That’s about when Pete left.”

  Four agonizing hours since Pete stormed out of the office, since Chet left to check on the firefighters they rescued.

  And three since Sam Brooks returned to HQ and asked if his brother Pete had come home, and if he’d done something stupid, like driven into a fire.

  “Pete’s here?”

  “Yeah. Or not—he took off to meet Ty and Gage and go find Jess. Except no one has heard from them. A tanker pilot headed into the fire saw them on a trail near Saint Mary Lake, but nothing since then.”

  Ian caught her eyes, and oh, the man could stop her world with those pretty aqua blues. “The team knows what they’re doing. And Pete isn’t going to give up.”