Wildfire Smokejumper Trilogy

Chapter 5-3

After they finished with the trees, a fire had been started in her brick-lined fire pit. Cold pizza was inhaled and a cooler of beer had been recovered from one of the trucks. Almost no one had more than one, though, in case they were called in the morning.

They had sat for hours, talking about fires and, perhaps inevitably, women. Krista, a broad-shouldered Nordic blond and apparently Johnny’s other main assistant, sat across the fire beside Two-Tall, razzing the men about all of things they didn’t understand about women. She was as brash and salty as many of the guys—funny, but a little out there for Laura. She wished Jeannie had stayed; she would have liked to get to know the woman better.

She was walking back in the dark from moving her truck out of the way, when she spotted Tim and Johnny standing close by the cabin’s front porch outlined in the light of the open front door. They were an odd couple, but there’d been no denying how perfectly they worked together. On the job, the two men rarely had to speak, but their communication was obviously crystal clear nonetheless.

“Damn, man, I just don’t know.” Tim’s deep voice carried easily across the still night air.

Laura braced herself. She’d been so happy. Despite the unexpected beginning to the evening—and the intense scrutiny—she’d enjoyed herself. Johnny’s team was close-knit and would walk through fire for him. She laughed a little at the metaphor. They actually did that one literally, all the time.

But now Tim was about to pass judgment on her. She wanted to cry out in protest to stop him from shattering one of the best things to happen to her in far too long a time. Johnny had come to mean so much to her, but she couldn’t speak. Instead she was forced to stand in the darkness and listen to her fate.

“I don’t get it,” Tim thumped a big hand down on Johnny’s shoulder with a blow that would have staggered a lesser man. “How does a little s**t like you land such an amazing lady?”

Laura almost strangled on her next breath she was so surprised.

“You do not toss this one over, man. You do not screw this up or I will personally beat the living s**t out of you. We clear?”

“Hey,” Johnny protested. “I thought you were my friend. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am, man,” Tim shook him back and forth by the shoulder. “That’s why I’m warning you. Laura isn’t normal fare. She ain’t no catch-and-release. She’s a keeper. You remember that or you’re toast.”

She slid into a deeper shadow as Tim passed by, waited until he started up his own truck and was the last to leave. Then she sidled up beside Johnny who appeared very quiet.

“Thank you for tonight. Both the safety,” she nodded toward the trees, “and for introducing me to your friends.”

He’d nodded, but said little. After he’d showered, he came to bed, curled up against her shoulder, and slipped into sleep. The poor man must be exhausted.

Laura lay flat on her back staring up at the heavy beams of her darkened bedroom. Moonlight spilled in through the window open to the warm night. The scent of fresh cut pine hung thick on the still air. They’d dead-limbed every tree for almost two hundred feet into the woods to all sides of the cabin as well as clearing the forest floor of any windfall that hadn’t already turned into more mulch than fuel. Anything thicker than three inches they’d chopped up into woodstove lengths and stacked under the cabin’s eave. In an afternoon, she had at least half a winter’s worth of wood put up.

She stared at the ceiling and hung onto the man sleeping curled against her shoulder.

Tim had dubbed her “a keeper.” Is that what she was? No one else she’d ever been with had thought so. She’d learned her independence early, because that was all she had to hold onto. Men were drawn to her looks, but that was all. She’d found her peace in the deep woods. Alone with Mister Ed or leading a group, it didn’t matter. She’d often imagined someone there beside her, but never found him.

One of the best things that had happened to her in a long time. Yes, that had been her own thought. He actually might be the best thing ever to happen, certainly the best male thing. Well, she’d never pictured a smokejumper with an easy laugh, a bravura manner, and such incredible self-confidence. She also hadn’t pictured a man that so many people thought so highly of.

She wanted to laugh. Would have if she hadn’t been afraid of waking the man lying so soundly asleep on her shoulder. Instead she kissed him gently on the top of his head.

Of all crazy things, she’d gone and fallen in love with a man named Akbar the Great.