by Jill Shalvis
“I can do it.” He wasn’t injured, for God’s sake. He just needed to catch his breath. “Just get a line around that snag before it spreads the fire.”
He forced himself to his knees. Nausea roiled through his belly, but he ignored it and stood.
He waited until the ground steadied and the chain saws started up again. Then, his head down, his right shoulder throbbing, he staggered off the line. His pulse lurched. His skull hammered. Sweat and ash stung his eyes.
The rookie stayed with him. “I still can’t believe how fast that fell. I didn’t even hear it coming.”
Cade stopped near the pile of equipment. He inhaled, and pain seared straight to his ribs.
“Man, do I owe you,” the rookie continued. “I can’t believe I froze like that.”
“Forget it.”
“No, really. If you hadn’t pushed me out of the way-”
“We’d be peeling your skin off that stob,” Trey said from behind them. “Look, we’ll do the play-by-play later. Grab a Pulaski and help get that damned thing inside the line.”
“Sure.” The rookie grabbed the ax-like Pulaski. “Thanks again, man. I owe you.” He turned and trotted off.
Cade tipped back his head. Even that small movement made him grimace.
“We’d better look at that shoulder,” Trey said.
“I’m fine. I just need to catch my breath.” He bent to grab his canteen, then froze as his back and ribs pulsed.
Angry now, he straightened. A wave of dizziness blurred his eyes.
“Come on, Cade. You know the rules.”
He knew the drill, all right. Safety first. Get an injured man off the mountain. Anyone who couldn’t outrun a fire endangered himself and the other jumpers.
And he was far too professional to compromise his men.
But he wasn’t seriously injured. His shoulder was probably just wrenched. And smokejumpers worked hurt all the time. Bad knees, sprained ankles…Chronic pain came with the job.
Besides, he couldn’t leave the fire-his fire. Not until they had it under control.
And those damn doctors. What if they took him off the jump list? Hell! He couldn’t stop jumping now, not with fires raging all over the west.
Not ever. Dread rolled through his gut. “Just give me a minute,” he said. “I’ll shake it off.” He reached up to remove his hard hat. Pain flamed through his shoulder and he dropped his hand. He glanced at Trey and saw the doubt in his eyes.
“We can’t wait,” Trey said. “If this wind picks up, they’ll ground the choppers. We need to call it in now.”
“A few more minutes won’t matter. Look, I’ll go check out that cabin and make sure no one’s hanging around. If my shoulder isn’t better by then, I’ll call it in myself.”
“Cade-”
“For God’s sake. Nothing’s broken.” With supreme effort, he picked up his PG bag and swung it over his left shoulder. Sweat popped out on his forehead and he struggled to breathe.
Trey shook his head. “All right, but I’m going with you, and we’ll scout a landing spot on the way.”
“Fine.” He hated pulling a man off the line, but didn’t bother to argue. He knew he’d need every bit of breath he had for the steep trek to the cabin.
By the time they reached Granite Canyon, Cade could hardly stay upright. His head reeled, hot pain ripped through his shoulder, and his ribs burned whenever he breathed.
He stopped at the black Jeep Liberty parked under the trees and propped himself against it to catch his breath.
“You okay?” Trey asked.
“A little winded.” He blinked to clear his blurred vision.
“McKenzie?” a voice on his radio called.
“I’ll see who’s in the cabin,” Trey said.
“Go ahead.” Glad to have an excuse to lean against the Jeep, Cade pulled his radio from his bag. “McKenzie here.”
“This is dispatch. We got that weather report you wanted.”
“Good. What’s the forecast?” He watched Trey stride to the door.
“Right now it’s holding steady at fifteen knots, with gusts up to twenty-five. But there’s a front coming through…”
The cabin door opened. A tall, slender woman stepped out and her dark hair gleamed in the light. Trey shifted sideways, and Cade caught sight of her face.
His heart stalled. His chest cramped tight, and suddenly, he felt dazed, as if the tree had crushed him again.
His gaze swept over her features. Those dark, exotic eyes. That full, erotic mouth. And damned if he didn’t still feel that pull, that powerful lure of passion and innocence that had once demolished his heart.
He scowled. Innocence, hell. She was as helpless as a rattler, and about as trustworthy, too.
She looked past Trey and their gazes latched. Her dark eyes widened and she mouthed his name.
Bitterness seeped through his gut. His ex-wife. Just what he’d needed to cap off a hell of a day.
“Did you get that?” the person on the radio asked.
“Yeah, I heard you.” He turned his back on his ex-wife. The motion set off another wave of dizziness. “Listen. There’s a Forest Service road that runs just north of the fire, then intersects with Highway 10. Is it still clear?”
“It is for now. In an hour it could get dicey. The front’s going to push that way.”
Unless they stopped the fire first.
“Okay. Let me know if anything changes. We’ve got a civilian heading out that way.” He turned the radio to scan.
Trey jogged over. “She’s packing up now. She’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.”
“Great.” He shoved his radio into his bag and sharp pain jolted his shoulder. He sucked in his breath.
“Some shock seeing her again,” Trey added.
“Yeah.” Shock didn’t begin to describe it. He felt that familiar anger blaze through him, the same rage and resentment that had consumed him for months. The fury that he’d let himself be conned by a pretty face in search of an easy paycheck. And had convinced himself it was love.
“How’s the shoulder?” Trey asked.
He brought his attention back to his job. Smokejumping. Fighting fire. The only thing that mattered. Everything he was.
But he had to face the harsh truth. He couldn’t work this fire with his body in this condition, and refusing to leave could endanger the troops.
“It hurts like hell,” he admitted. “My collarbone’s probably cracked. I’d better get it checked.”
“Do you want me to call for a chopper?”
“There’s no place to land. The nearest clearing’s a mile up that ridge.” He’d hiked this forest enough to know.
“So we cut a spot.”
“We don’t have time. A front’s moving in. If we don’t get that fire stopped now it could go big.” Which would endanger the men even more. And he could never live with himself if that happened.
“So what do you suggest?” Trey asked.
What else could he do? The men couldn’t afford to waste valuable time clearing a landing pad, and he couldn’t get himself to that ridge.
He glanced at the Jeep. Dread churned through his gut and the bitter taste of gall filled his mouth.
It had been one hell of a day, all right. And it was about to get even worse.
He slowly turned back to the cabin. The door opened and Jordan stepped out, carrying a bag. He smiled grimly. “It looks like I’m going to hitch myself a ride.”
Chapter 2
Still reeling from the shock of seeing Cade again, Jordan loaded the last of her belongings in the back of the Jeep and shut the hatch. She’d never expected to see him here. Never. And now she was going to spend six hours with him in the Jeep? Good God. Dealing with his memory had been hard enough.
She lifted her stunned gaze to her ex-husband. He stood at the front of the Jeep with Trey, examining a map spread over the hood. While she’d packed up the few blankets and bowls worth saving from the cabin, they’d pore
d over the map, discussing wind speed and fire retardant.
Cade’s hard hat dipped as he folded the map and tucked it into his PG bag. Then he pulled out a battery pack and handed it to Trey. “You might as well take my spares,” he said. “You could be out here for a while.”
His deep, sensual voice drew goose bumps along her arms, and despite the warm wind, she shivered. God, she’d once loved that voice. It was the first thing she’d noticed about him in that smoky Mexican bar.
The first of many. He stepped away from the Jeep and her gaze drifted over the rest of him. Ashes dusted his battered boots. His olive drab pants rode low on his lean hips and his yellow fire shirt stretched wide across his shoulders. He looked broader through the chest than before, his neck thicker.
Her pulse fluttered. Even in his early twenties, he’d been a gorgeous man. But now…
Now he was simply a smokejumper who needed a ride.
Trey nodded in her direction. “Thanks for helping us out here.”
“Sure. No problem.” Trey headed toward the trees, and her pulse faltered. No problem? When she was alone in the forest with Cade?
She slid her gaze to her ex-husband, and those shocking blue eyes met hers. Her heart lurched, then wobbled madly. Oh, God, those eyes. How could she have forgotten? That brilliant blue. That carnal gleam. And when he’d smiled…She’d taken one fatal look in that Cancún bar and fallen hard.
But he didn’t smile at her now. His gaze slammed into hers, narrow and cold, as stark as the grim lines bracketing his mouth. Harsh, like the chiseled cheekbones streaked with dirt and the hard jaw lined with blond stubble.
He strode toward her and her nerves climbed higher. She scanned his face, searching for a hint of warmth. His mouth flattened, and her hopes tumbled. So much for a friendly ride.
He stopped at the rear passenger door, his stony gaze locked on hers. “You ready?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He dropped his PG bag to the ground, yanked open the door with his left hand and hefted the bag to the seat. Still using the same hand, he pulled off his hard hat, dumped it beside the bag, and slammed the door. Then he opened the front passenger door and bent his long frame to climb in the Jeep. He froze with a rough gasp of breath.
And suddenly, it hit her. No wonder he wanted a ride. He was injured-and badly, if it had made him leave his job. The job he’d loved more than her.
She quickly moved behind him. “Can I help?”
“No.”
“But your arm-”
“It’s fine.”
Uncertain, she stepped back. He pulled himself inside the Jeep and awkwardly reached for the door.
“Here, let me-” She started to close it, but his hard stare stopped her cold. “Fine.” She lifted her hands and backed off, then stalked to the driver’s-side door. Let him fend for himself if he was too proud to accept any help.
Too proud or too bitter?
She slid behind the wheel and braved a glance at the man slumped beside her. His skin looked ashen beneath the grime, his profile strained. The faint scent of wood smoke permeated his clothes.
She shook her head. Why would he be angry? He was the one who’d abandoned her. He’d flown off with that booster crew to Alaska, just when she’d needed him most.
She blocked off a swell of resentment. It didn’t matter anymore. Their marriage was over, and had been since the day he’d left for refresher training.
Besides, she had her life in Virginia now-a good one, too, including a man who’d never leave her. All she had to do was drive Cade back to Missoula and then she’d never see him again.
She inhaled deeply, cranked the engine to life and slowly released the clutch. The Jeep lurched forward, hit a downed branch, and jostled sideways.
She glanced at Cade. The grooves deepened around his mouth and his skin paled even more. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Her nerves tightened. Maybe he was all right, but she had a feeling this was going to be the longest six hours of her life.
The Jeep had stopped moving. Disoriented, Cade forced open his eyes and blinked hard to clear his blurred vision. They were parked in the middle of the narrow dirt road, surrounded by towering pines. The driver’s door hung open and the warm wind ruffled a paper napkin on the console. Jordan was nowhere in sight.
He lifted his hand to rub his eyes, then froze as pain sliced his shoulder. Damn. That tree had slammed him good. His skull vibrated like the two-stroke engine of a chain saw, and his entire body felt pummeled.
He glanced at his watch, then slumped back against the seat and shut his eyes. They’d only been driving for a few minutes. He’d either passed out or fallen asleep as soon as they’d left the cabin.
But where was Jordan? And why weren’t they moving? He jerked his eyes open again. This was a hell of a time to take a break. They needed to get out of here before the wind picked up and pushed the fire to the road.
Stifling a groan, he reached over with his left hand and shoved his door open, then swung out his legs and stepped down. Dizziness swamped him, and he hung on to the door to catch his balance. Several breaths later, the ground steadied and he slowly straightened.
“Don’t shut the door,” Jordan said, her voice low.
Startled, he turned toward the back of the Jeep. Jordan knelt in the road facing the woods. His gaze followed the curve of her slender back to the lush flare of her hips. Her faded blue jeans were covered with dust.
“What are you doing?”
“Sshh.” She rose to her feet and backed toward him. “I’m trying to catch a dog.”
“What?”
“Quiet! You’ll scare him off.”
He frowned at the bowl of water she’d set on the road next to what looked like pieces of sandwich. He followed her line of vision to the trees but couldn’t see anything.
He massaged his eyes. “How long ago did we stop?”
“I don’t know. Maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Hell. They were far too close to the cabin. “Listen-”
“Shh. Here he comes.”
A clump of ferns edging the road swayed, and then a dog slunk out. At least he thought it was a dog. It was the scrawniest thing he’d ever seen, with wary, desperate eyes set in a gaunt face hollowed by hunger.
“I almost hit him,” she murmured. “He was sitting right in the road.”
The dog limped closer, favoring his right front paw, then stopped several yards away. Trembling, his tail tucked to his belly and dark ears flattened, he again inched cautiously forward. His eyes darted from them to the food and he let out a pitiful whine.
“I thought he was a coyote at first,” she said, her voice low.
“Coyotes are fatter than that.”
“That’s why I decided he was a dog. Either he’s lost or someone dumped him off in the forest. As if a pet can survive out here by instinct.”
Her indignation didn’t surprise him. She’d always had a soft spot for animals, even wild ones. When they’d lived at the cabin, she’d hung bird feeders in the woods and set salt licks out for the deer.
He turned his attention back to the dog, who was creeping toward the food. He was some sort of shepherd mix, with a matted, tawny coat and dark gray mask and ears. The dog reached the food and stopped. Then suddenly, he bolted back to the woods.
Cade glanced at his watch again. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Go?” Jordan frowned. “But what about the dog?”
“He’ll eat as soon as we leave.”
“And then what? Where’s he going to get more food?” She planted her hands on her hips. The motion tightened the white T-shirt over her breasts. “You saw how skinny he is. And he needs to get to a vet. That front paw doesn’t look good.”
“We don’t have a choice. We need to get out of here before that front hits.”
“But we can’t just leave him here alone.”
That figured. She cared more abou
t leaving a stray dog than she once had about her husband. “For God’s sake-”
“Forget it, Cade. I’m not leaving that poor dog behind. He’s already been abandoned once, and believe me, that’s enough for anyone.” Her dark eyes flashed. “Not that you’d understand that.”
Not that he’d understand what? “What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” His irritation surged.
She lifted her hands and sighed. “All right, fine. I’ll tell you. It’s just that you’re always flying off and traveling somewhere. Having adventures and putting out fires. You don’t know what it’s like to be left behind, to be sitting at home waiting, day after lonely day. But I do. And believe me, I’m not doing that to the dog.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who left me.”
“Only because you’d already gone.”
Incredulity flooded through him. He would have laughed if his ribs didn’t ache so much. “Hell, that’s rich. You walk out without even a note. I come home to an empty house and a goddamn letter from your lawyer. And you accuse me of abandoning you?”
“You went to Alaska.”
He stared at her. “I was working. Earning money. You know, trying to support my wife?”
Her brows rose. “You’re not seriously saying you were doing it for my sake?”
“Hell, yes, I was doing it for you. Wasn’t I supposed to work?”
“But you were gone all the time. You hardly came back. You even joined that booster crew to Alaska.”
“That was my job,” he said tightly. “You knew that when we got married. The Forest Service owns you in the summer. They send you wherever the fires are. You can’t control where you go. And you can’t just turn work down.”
“You could have found a different job.”
“Right.” That was their problem, right there. Ten years ago, he’d idolized this woman. Worshipped her. Given her his heart, his soul. Everything he owned and every damned cent he earned. And she still hadn’t been satisfied. She’d wanted him to change who he was.
She bit her lip. Her dark eyes widened with that vulnerable look that always made him want to protect her.