Feisty Firefighters Bundle

by Jill Shalvis

  When Trey signed off, Cade radioed dispatch with his position and asked them to scout for a clearing. If there was any chance of a blowup, he wanted to get off this mountain fast.

  That done, he stuck the radio back in his PG bag. “You want to eat now?” he asked Jordan.

  “All right.”

  He slid off the rock and set his bag on the ground, then began pulling out food. Jordan knelt beside him. “I’ve got two cans of tuna, the beef jerky and instant coffee,” he said.

  She pushed up the sleeves of her sweatshirt and unzipped her bag. “And I have some strawberry yogurt, two oranges, part of a loaf of French bread and some Swiss cheese and salami I bought at a deli in Missoula.”

  He eyed their meager stockpile. Too bad he hadn’t grabbed a couple of fire packs before he left the line. That freeze-dried food would have come in handy. “I’m going to have some tuna,” he decided. “You want the other can?”

  She shook her head. Her hair was still damp, but dry wisps brushed her face. She tucked the loose strands behind her ear. “How long will it take us to get to that road?”

  “At least another day. Maybe two.”

  “That long?” Small creases appeared on her forehead. “Then we’d better ration this out.”

  The tightness inside his chest eased. Rather than panic at their predicament, she was taking it in stride. Far better than he’d expected.

  “Why don’t we eat the perishables first?” she said. “I’ll take the yogurt, and I’ll make you a sandwich with the rest of this bread. It’s already a couple of days old.”

  “Maybe half,” he said. “We’ll save the rest for later.”

  “All right.” She repacked the remaining food in her bag and pulled out a plastic spoon. Then she took the bread from its plastic sleeve and split it in half.

  While she made the sandwich, he took out his bottle of ibuprofen and downed more pills. Then he grabbed his map and climbed back up on the rock.

  Jordan joined him a few seconds later and handed him the sandwich. “Thanks.” He took a bite as she settled beside him. The dry bread was hard to chew, but he didn’t care. By the time they reached Missoula, they would consider the stale bread a treat.

  They worked silently through their breakfast, both too hungry to talk. Sparrows trilled in the pine-scented air. The valley brightened, despite the haze of smoke. Far to the south, the mountains glinted in the rising sun, their jagged faces stark above the rugged land.

  “I keep forgetting how far you can see out here,” Jordan finally said. “It’s amazing. And we’re the only people for miles.”

  “Yeah. I’ve always liked that about my job, jumping into untamed forests.” Wild, unspoiled places most people never saw.

  Hell, he loved everything about smokejumping. The adrenaline surge when the siren blared. The rush when he leaped from the plane. The freedom of soaring through the air and the challenge of landing. He especially liked fighting the fire. Cranking up the chain saw and choking down smoke with the bros.

  The job suited him in every way. And God help him, but he never wanted to do anything else.

  He couldn’t. Dread crept through his nerves, but he tamped it back. He wouldn’t have to change jobs. Once his shoulder healed, he’d be back on the jump list, right where he belonged.

  He finished all but a small piece of sandwich, which he tossed to the ground. The dog quickly wolfed it down.

  Cade drank from the canteen, then handed it back to Jordan. “You’d better drink more water.”

  “How much do we have?”

  “Enough for now. I’ve got two more canteens in my bag.”

  Her brow creased. “Can we give some to the dog?”

  “Sure. We’ll refill it at the next stream.”

  She tipped her head back and drank. The motion sent her hair tumbling over her shoulders, baring her long, slender neck to his gaze. His eyes followed the tempting curve of her throat to the swell of her breasts beneath the sweatshirt, then back to the moisture beading her lips.

  He jerked his gaze back to the mountains and dragged in air. So ten years hadn’t diminished her attraction. That was his bad luck, but he’d deal with it. He definitely wouldn’t drop his defenses and let her close.

  Careful to keep his gaze averted, he spread the map across his lap to get his bearings. He studied it for a moment, then lifted his gaze to the west. Along the slope of the neighboring mountain, he spotted a clearing, maybe big enough for a helicopter to land.

  But to get there, they’d have to dip into the valley between the two peaks. And if the fire shifted and spread to that next mountain…

  His gut tightened. They could never outrun flames rushing toward them uphill. On the other hand, if the fire jumped the river, they weren’t any safer here.

  “Are we still in any danger?” Jordan asked, as if reading his mind.

  He couldn’t lie, not when both their lives were at risk, but he didn’t want to scare her. “We’re fine for now. They’ll send up a plane soon to recon the fire. If there’s a place for a chopper to land, they’ll let us know. We might not need to hike to that road.”

  She looked down at the valley. “But which way is the fire heading?”

  “West, mostly.”

  “But it still could turn this way?”

  “In this terrain, anything can happen.” He folded the map and set it aside. “But we’ll be all right.”

  Her gaze met his and she bit her lip. He saw her anxiety, her fear, and despite his vow to keep his distance, something moved in his chest.

  “Hey,” he murmured. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and his finger brushed her soft cheek. The early-morning sun cast a warm glow on her skin and played along the curve of her lips.

  “Cade,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” He slid his hand to her throat, tracing the delicate line, then cupped the nape of her neck. The feel of her skin made his heart jerk. It felt right to tug her closer.

  “I…I’m glad you’re here.”

  Strangely enough, so was he. He lifted his gaze to hers. He saw the trust in her eyes, and something else. The awareness that always sizzled between them. The heat.

  His blood thickened, and he dropped his gaze to her lips. Her full, moist lips. It had been so damn hot between them. Would it still be the same?

  She swayed closer, and her warm breath mingled with his. Lured by the memory of that heat, he lowered his head.

  The motion jolted his shoulder, and he froze. What was he doing? This was the woman who’d dumped him, who’d gutted his heart when she left. How in the hell could he kiss her? He dropped his hand and pulled back.

  Disgusted with himself, he grabbed his map and climbed off the rock. Talk about a fool. How many times did he need to learn the same lesson? She didn’t want a smokejumper. She didn’t want him.

  And he’d better get them out of this forest fast, before he forgot that fact.

  He shoved his map into his bag. “You ready to go?” He didn’t look in her direction.

  “Do you mind if we check the dog’s paw first? I want to see why he’s limping.”

  “All right.” Still angry at his loss of control, he rose to his feet and waited.

  “Come here, sweetie,” she called, tugging on the leash. “Come on.” She climbed off the rock and stooped down. Her soft, sultry voice quickened his pulse and he swore silently. Why couldn’t he ignore this woman when he knew she’d only cause pain?

  The dog limped over, his tail slowly wagging. Still cooing, Jordan scratched his chin and scooted closer. Within seconds, she had him in her arms. “Okay, you silly dog. Let’s see what’s wrong with that paw.”

  Her eyes met his and her face turned pink, as if she were thinking about that near-kiss.

  Reluctant to get near her, he dragged himself closer and dropped to one knee. They both leaned over the dog’s paw, their heads nearly touching, and he inched himself back.

  “I’m guessing he has a thorn stuck in
it,” she said and her blush deepened. “See if you can find it while I hold him still.”

  Forcing his attention to the dog, Cade reached out and clasped his paw. The dog instantly tried to jerk back. “Easy.” He gently massaged the ragged pad until he felt something sharp in the flesh. “I found it.” He pinched the thorn with his fingers and pulled it out. “Damn. No wonder he was limping.” He held it up for her to see.

  “Make sure there’s not another one.”

  He tossed aside the thorn, then felt the rest of his paw. “I think that’s it.”

  “Great.” She kissed the dog’s head and let him go. He scrambled away, and her gaze rose to his. “He must have run through brambles.”

  The concern in her soft eyes swamped him, and his head grew suddenly light. And that confused him. What was it about this woman that affected him so much? Why couldn’t he keep her at a distance?

  He forced himself to his feet. Needing to get away, to put some space between them, he strode to his gear and picked up his hard hat.

  She rose more slowly. “So what do you think about Dusty?” She brushed the dirt off her jeans. “For the dog, I mean. I’ve been trying to think of a name.”

  Still annoyed with himself, but grateful for the change of subject, he shoved on his hard hat and lifted his bag. “I guess it suits him.” Even after crossing the river, the mutt needed a bath.

  “I think so, too. Come on, Dusty,” she told the dog. “Let’s get you a drink.” She pulled the bowl from her bag and poured in water. While the dog drank, she stuck their trash in a plastic bag.

  “You ready to go?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She put away the empty bowl, tied the trash to the strap on her bag and joined him on the path. “What kind of dogs did you have on your ranch?”

  “Border collies, mostly. They helped herd the cattle.”

  “I could never have a dog when I was young. We moved too much.” She hiked beside him up the rocky trail, her long legs keeping stride with his. “Plus, my dad was always gone on ships, and my mother couldn’t be bothered. She was involved with the wives’ club, and a dog didn’t fit her lifestyle.” She paused. “Actually, neither did a kid.”

  The resentment in her voice surprised him. He’d always assumed she’d had a great childhood.

  But now that he thought about it, she’d never discussed her past, at least not in any detail. Whenever he’d asked, she’d skirted his questions. And he’d never pursued it past that.

  Troubled by that thought, he frowned. “How did you learn about dogs if you never had one?”

  She glanced at the dog. No longer limping, he trotted easily beside her. “When I moved back East, I got involved in dog rescue. It helped me…cope.”

  Cope? With what? Her guilt at deserting her husband? Bitterness soured his gut. “So you’re what, a dog trainer now?”

  “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I still help out with rescue, but I work in a nursing home now. In fact, dogs are how I got my job.”

  She stopped and pulled a pebble from her shoe. He waited for her to catch up. “I had the sweetest golden retriever for a while,” she said as they resumed hiking. “A trained therapy dog. Her owner had to give her up. So I took her to a nursing home to visit patients and got hooked.”

  “Hooked on what?”

  “The people.” She sounded surprised.

  “Seems like they’d be depressing.”

  “Not at all. I mean, when someone…passes on…it’s really hard. But they’re wonderful. They have the most amazing attitude. They know that they’re going to…that they won’t be around very long. And some are in a lot of pain. But instead of complaining or focusing on what they don’t have, they’re so cheerful and optimistic. They just enjoy every moment they have.”

  She frowned suddenly and nibbled her bottom lip. A second later, she slanted him a glance. He was surprised to see guilt in her eyes.

  But then she cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, they’re always happy to see me.” Her voice dropped. “I guess I like feeling needed.”

  Needed? He stopped, feeling as if she’d kicked the air from his gut. “Since when?”

  “Since when, what?” Her eyes searched his. “What do you mean?”

  “You know damned well what I mean.” He’d needed her, more than he’d needed to breathe. And she’d still bolted away. He turned and strode up the path.

  “Cade, wait.”

  “For what? Another lie?”

  “Cade, please. Let me explain.”

  His jaw rigid, he jerked around. “Explain what? Why you didn’t give a damn about my feelings? Why you ran out of town?” He stepped forward and his gaze pinned hers. “Why your husband’s needs didn’t count?”

  “But you…You didn’t…” Her skin paled. “Cade, I…”

  He waited, willing her to continue, to explain why she’d run away. But she only twisted her hands and looked distraught.

  “Hell.” Disgusted, he strode off. His gut churning, his pulse thundering through his skull, he struggled to control his anger. What did it matter? Their marriage was over. So why did he even care? Why did her betrayal eat at him, even after all these years?

  Because he still didn’t understand it. His heart pumping, he picked up his pace. Whenever he looked at her, whenever she talked, she seemed genuine. Sincere. As if she really cared about him. Hell, she even acted like that toward the dog.

  And he fell for it, every damned time.

  Was it just an act? Was she really that callous, that hard? And if so, why couldn’t he see it? Why couldn’t he get her out of his blood?

  And if it wasn’t a lie, if she really had cared about him, then why had she left? And why wouldn’t she tell him now?

  “McKenzie, this is dispatch,” a voice on his radio called.

  He pulled out his radio and sucked in his breath. No, he didn’t understand it. But he did know one thing for damned sure. Before they reached Missoula, he was going to demand some answers.

  Chapter 7

  Jordan hurried up the rocky trail behind Cade, clutching the makeshift leash. A sick feeling swirled through her belly. She’d seen Cade in a lot of moods during their marriage, but never this fiercely bitter, and he had a cynical edge to his eyes that had never been there before.

  Because she’d put it there when she left.

  Fierce guilt cramped her chest. Of course he was angry. What had she expected? That he wouldn’t care that she’d left him? That he’d shrug the divorce off?

  Ahead of her, Cade said something into his radio, then shoved it into his bag. Then he stopped and looked back, waiting for her to catch up.

  Her gaze met his as she closed the distance between them. His hard jaw tightened under the stubble, and his striking eyes narrowed at hers. And her heart tripped even more.

  She’d hurt him, all right, deeply. More than she’d ever dreamed. And no matter how hard it was to discuss it, she owed him an explanation.

  And she needed to do it now.

  She caught up to him and stopped, trying to figure out how to begin. The dry wind swirled up dust and pushed a pinecone along the trail. The raucous squawk of a Steller’s jay pierced the mounting silence.

  She finally dragged in a steadying breath. “Cade, when you were growing up, was there anything you really wanted?”

  He held her gaze for several seconds, and she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he turned and started walking again, and she hurried to match his long stride.

  “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I wanted to get the hell off the ranch.”

  She blinked. “But I thought you liked Montana.” In fact, she couldn’t imagine him anywhere else. He was always doing something outdoors-hunting, fishing, smokejumping…

  “Montana’s fine. It was the ranch I hated. Doing the same damn work every day. Baling hay and feeding cattle.” He grunted in disgust. “It was a hell of a life, being stuck in that dying town.”

  Still marveling over that revelation, she slanted him a glan
ce. How come she hadn’t known that? She knew the most intimate details of this man-what he ate, how he made love-and yet, in so many ways he remained a stranger.

  Still, it made sense. Even injured, he exuded energy. She could imagine his restlessness as a teen. “So you were anxious to leave?”

  “No way was I spending my life trapped on that ranch, worrying about the price of beef.”

  The bitterness in his tone caught her off guard. She studied the hard line of his jaw, sensing he’d had more at stake than a need for independence, but when he didn’t elaborate, she let it go. “Well, I would have given anything to live there.”

  His eyes met hers again and he raised his brows. “You didn’t like moving around?”

  “Hardly.” Her lips twisted. “Oh, some of it wasn’t so bad. We lived in some beautiful places. But I hated starting over, being the new kid in school every year. Sitting by myself, trying to figure out how to fit in and what to wear. And just when I’d finally get it right, when I’d start to make friends and relax, we’d have to move.”

  “You can be lonely even living in one place.”

  “True.” She glanced at him, wondering why she’d never viewed him as a loner. He’d always seemed so strong and confident, so impermeable to hurt. But apparently, she’d been wrong.

  She gnawed her bottom lip, unable to stop the guilt creeping into her chest. If she hadn’t seen that part of him, what else might she have missed?

  “Well, anyway,” she continued. “I didn’t like to travel.”

  “How come you never told me that?”

  Good question. “I didn’t like to talk about it. It wasn’t…It was a painful way to grow up. And I guess I assumed that you knew, that everyone understood the military lifestyle.” Obviously, she’d been wrong. And that assumption had cost her.

  The road switched back, and she paused to haul air into her lungs. Sunlight streamed through the Douglas firs in narrow beams, highlighting the punishing climb ahead. Cade held out his canteen, but she shook her head.

  His Adam’s apple dipped as he drank, and she steeled herself to go on. “My dad was always gone. That’s how I remember my childhood, standing on piers, watching his ship disappear, knowing it would be forever before he came back.