Wildfire Smokejumper Trilogy

Chapter 6-1

Chapter 6

Tim followed Macy and Baxter as she led them east past the terminal building. He hung back a couple of steps to look around.

He’d never been to Ladd Airfield at Fort Wainwright. The Army base lay to the east of Fairbanks. He hadn’t really been paying attention as they came into the pattern and landed. It was a single long airstrip that was quiet at the moment.

Some Army helicopters and a pair of jets to the west. Across the field were some small airplane hangers for general aviation. Overall it looked like a sleepy little place. A small twin-engine plane sailed almost silently down onto the runway as they walked along.

He also needed a little space from Macy. Even the way she walked was making his head hurt.

He’d felt her guiding his hands through the joined controls for the short flight—at a hundred and twenty miles an hour, the thirty of them had gone by too fast. It had been intimate, even sexy. Not just as if they were holding hands through the controls, but…

Argh!

Then, for a moment he’d swear she’d been jealous of Emily and Jeannie, but that made even less sense.

He was clearly losing his mind.

Why on Earth would he want to imagine Macy jealous of another woman? That it was Emily and Jeannie he’d imagined her reacting to only made him sure that he’d imagined it.

But even now, the slender woman, walking with perfect confidence beside this great dog that adored her…he couldn’t look away. The sun was high enough that it glinted off her hair and made her shine, but left his footsteps walking in her still-long shadow.

His big chance.

If she were any other woman, it would have been his big chance to sweep her off her feet and have a quick tumble in Heinrich’s barley.

Face it, Tim, Macy always confused the crap out of you. Even though she was four years younger, she’d always been three or four steps ahead of him. Just as she was now.

Enough of that.

He stretched out his stride and came up alongside her on Baxter’s other side.

Of course now it felt as if they were walking as a couple. What would she do if he reached out and took her hand? What would he do? He’d held her hand plenty of times, back when they were kids and he was helping her back to her feet after her latest lame attempt to knock him down, or helping each other up off the Kung Fu mats. When she played sports, she played them for keeps.

Maybe he’d try it, just to see what it felt like. To see how she’d react. He prepared himself to be thrown down on the pavement just as they came around the terminal building. Then he spotted the two planes.

Two red-and-white painted Short Sherpa C-23s. The square-bodied, high-wing, twin-prop planes looked chunky and awkward. It was one of those planes that looked like it had been designed by a twelve-year old and could never fly. They were the backbone of any number of smokejumper teams. Each Sherpa could deliver ten smokies and two days of gear out the rear cargo hatch anywhere within three hundred miles of an airport.

He’d forgotten that the Bureau of Land Management Alaskan Fire Service smokejumpers were based here.

A couple guys were sorting gear out on the tarmac. One was…

“How you doing, Hank?” Tim gave it his best casual.

Hank Hammond jerked upright and looked at him in shock.

“Holy s**t! Two-Tall Tim. How the hell are ya, buddy?” Hank hugged him and they traded back thumps. Hank was one of those guys who was burly with muscle and had a smile that looked like maybe dark corners were a good place to avoid—not wicked, just ready to tussle.

“You jumping with these guys?”

“Sure. Number two on the lead stick, I couldn’t pass it up. The season up here is short, but intense as hell. What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting.” Tim wasn’t real excited with the way Hank eyed Macy who’d hung back a step. Then he reached out a hand and shook hers. “Woman like this standing beside me, I wouldn’t just be visiting. How you doing, Macy? Damn but you’re looking good today, girl.”

“Just for you, Hank.”

They knew each other. Of course they did. Tim’s emotions were not only in chaos, they were also being stupid. Maybe he could get Macy to deliver some new ones as part of her mail run.

But they were flirting with each other which meant—Doesn’t mean squat, Harada. He flirted with Jeannie all the time…though no one in their right mind flirted with Emily. Then why did it feel like…Just let it go.

“Did they put out a fire call to you, Macy? Why don’t I know about it?” Hank was up on his toes, ready to sprint into action.

“No, just mail day. Running a bit early so I figured I drag Flame Boy here over to visit.”

Hank eased back and nodded, taking a moment to shake off the leading edge of fire-call adrenaline.

“You still jumping with Akbar the Great?”

Tim nodded, “We’re at Mount Hood Aviation now.” That elicited a low, impressed whistle. “They gave us a rain break for a week. I grew up over in Larch Creek.”

“Don’t that beat all. Never pegged you for an man of the midnight sun. Yeah, I heard the Lower Forty-eight was socked in.” Hank turned to Macy again, “Goofy looking pair, but the best damn stick I ever fought fire with. Learned a hell of a lot from those two down in Colorado and Utah. They’re both just naturals, and that was before they got good.”

Tim managed not to look at Macy, could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. The whole dynamic was different with a woman standing there.

No, it was a whole different dynamic with a woman whose opinion he cared about standing there.

Hank turned back to Tim. “Yeah, my girl’s parents are up here in Fairbanks. Kid on the way, she wanted to be near home about the same time old Kent Thorpe retired and the slot came open, so we all win.”

He had a girl and an incoming kid. Hank had been flirting with Macy the way Tim flirted with Jeannie; didn’t mean a thing beyond friendly.

Clearly it was Tim’s day to feel continually stupider and stupider. When you hit a day like that you could fight it or roll with it. Today he figured he was on vacation and should just roll with it. Fighting against the traces never worked anyway.

They hadn’t fought fire together in three years, so they caught up on who they’d each jumped with and some of the fires.

He caught Macy looking at her watch.

“Looks like it’s time for the mail, buddy. Can’t be delaying that or they might arrest me. Great to see you.”

“Give me your cell number, Tim.” He shrugged at Tim’s questioning look. “Never know if we might need you on a fire.”

They shared a laugh, traded numbers, and he followed Macy and Baxter back to the helo.

“You guys were close,” Macy asked as they strolled back through the warming air.

He was beginning to regret choosing the heavy sweater over the too tight jacket. He pulled off the sweater and then repressed a shiver; it would be warm enough inside the helo. The airport was still quiet, not a lot of operations here early in the morning on a calm day.

“Close enough,” he replied. “Hank Hammond is a good man to have at your back. Spent a season with him the same year I met Akbar. The four of us made an unstoppable team both on the fire and in the—”

“I get the picture,” she cut him off.

Yep! Definitely a stupider-and-stupider day. How dumb would he be by nightfall? Especially considering that nightfall was still eighteen hours away and wouldn’t be going much past twilight even when it arrived.

“Who was the fourth?” Macy gave him a subject change for which he was grateful.

“Axel Rodriguez. Died in a car wreck. He was always pushing the envelope. On the fire he was rock solid. But he was out in the world doing a hundred and forty plus when he lost control of his brand new Camaro. Empty road, broad daylight. Cops think he rolled it upward of ten times. Hell of a firefighter though.”

“Sorry I asked.”

Tim shook off the memory, “No problem. It was just one of those things. At least fire didn’t get him.”