5
Candace sat at the edge of the grass clearing, outside the circle of firelight, and watched the final twenty sitting around the campfire. Day Ten, they’d made it. And just as importantly, so had she. The Leavenworth IHC was happening.
Dad and the department’s mostly volunteer crew had delivered hotdogs and burgers with all the trimmings, massive bags of chips, and local craft beer. The whole team’s laughter had that easy confidence of a crew who’d formed up well.
She really had done it.
Another three weeks of serious training and she’d list the team as ready for call out. They’d done a carefully controlled prescribed burn on Day Eight and not a one of them had flinched, which boded well. The only test left was one she couldn’t arrange, facing an angry wildfire on the run. That final
