Wildfire Smokejumper Trilogy

Chapter 6-2

At least fire didn’t get him.

Macy wondered at that simple statement. Tim had changed in a lot more ways than she’d thought. He wasn’t only in better shape, he’d faced death. Death of friends, death by fire.

Macy knew some folks who had died. The suicide rate in the roadless villages to the north was especially bad. She’d bring in a piece of mail, and a parent or friend would come forward to take it. She’d learned to recognize the solemnity marking that the recipient was no longer alive, and hand it over with as little reaction as possible.

Sometimes she’d haul a corpse off Denali, or as good as, because they were too far gone for even the medics to save. And each one of those unmet and often nameless losses hurt.

But none had been close to her; she knew she’d been lucky.

Tim had gone completely quiet as they walked back to the helo.

Juniper Willow was parked there, leaning against her U.S. Mail jeep, earbuds in, rocking out to her music player while she waited for them.

“What’s on for today?” Macy shouted loud enough to be heard as she signed the register for the mail bag.

“Taylor Swift. She’s so retro.”

Macy managed not to laugh in Juniper’s face. Juniper was maybe a year younger than Swift.

Juniper was gone by the time Macy had the mail bag and Baxter in the back of the LongRanger.

Tim still looked numb; hurt by the memories she’d stirred up.

She stepped up and rested a hand on his chest in apology.

And then, like a miracle, as if it was the most natural thing on the planet, he folded her into his arms and pulled her against him.

Macy didn’t freeze in surprise this time. She let herself flow against him; one arm trapped between them, the other around his waist that she used to pull herself against him. He was not supposed to feel better than her imagination, but he did. He was real, alive, and—for this one moment—in her arms.

She laid her head on his shoulder and he buried his face in her hair.

They stood like that for a moment that she knew she’d cherish as if it had lasted a gazillion hours rather than just a few seconds.

Then he whispered in her ear as if speaking to himself, “Missed you, Mace.”

He shifted back a half step and banged up against the passenger side door he’d left open.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t have done that. I just…” His voice petered out.

Her hand still rested on his chest. She could feel his heart racing, but she didn’t think it was passion by the look in his eyes. They were closed, tight and hard against memories.

She slid her hand up behind his neck and pulled her down to him. It was meant to be a friendly kiss, sympathy and no more.

It started there, just the merest brush of lips.

Then his hands were back around her and he hauled her against him. She’d never kissed Tim before, not even a kid’s practice kiss, but this was something else he was really good at. Really good.

Macy leaned into it until he was pinned against the side of the LongRanger. She dug her hands into his hair to keep him there, to keep him from evaporating back into her dreams. With those big powerful hands, he clamped onto her; one scooped into her hair and the other wrapped around her waist so hard she could barely breathe.

Didn’t want to breathe.

Just wanted to—

Baxter let out a yip from behind the window to the passenger cabin.

And just that fast, the moment was gone.

One moment Tim had been giving her the most amazing kiss ever and the next she was two steps back with his hands planted firmly about her waist.

“s**t, I’m sorry, Mace.”

She hit him. A hard punch to the gut that he wasn’t tensed up for this time.