Facing the Fire

He lifted his hand to rub his eyes, then froze as pain sliced his shoulder. Damn. That tree had slammed him good. His skull vibrated like the two-stroke engine of a chain saw, and his entire body felt pummeled.

He glanced at his watch, then slumped back against the seat and shut his eyes. They’d only been driving for a few minutes. He’d either passed out or fallen asleep as soon as they’d left the cabin.

But where was Jordan? And why weren’t they moving? He jerked his eyes open again. This was a hell of a time to take a break. They needed to get out of here before the wind picked up and pushed the fire to the road.

Stifling a groan, he reached over with his left hand and shoved his door open, then swung out his legs and stepped down. Dizziness swamped him, and he hung on to the door to catch his balance. Several breaths later, the ground steadied and he slowly straightened.

“Don’t shut the door,” Jordan said, her voice low.

Startled, he turned toward the back of the Jeep. Jordan knelt in the road facing the woods. His gaze followed the curve of her slender back to the lush flare of her hips. Her faded blue jeans were covered with dust.

“What are you doing?”

“Sshh.” She rose to her feet and backed toward him. “I’m trying to catch a dog.”

“What?”

“Quiet! You’ll scare him off.”

He frowned at the bowl of water she’d set on the road next to what looked like pieces of sandwich. He followed her line of vision to the trees but couldn’t see anything.

He massaged his eyes. “How long ago did we stop?”

“I don’t know. Maybe fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes?” Hell. They were far too close to the cabin. “Listen—”

“Shh. Here he comes.”

A clump of ferns edging the road swayed, and then a dog slunk out. At least he thought it was a dog. It was the scrawniest thing he’d ever seen, with wary, desperate eyes set in a gaunt face hollowed by hunger.

“I almost hit him,” she murmured. “He was sitting right in the road.”

The dog limped closer, favoring his right front paw, then stopped several yards away. Trembling, his tail tucked to his belly and dark ears flattened, he again inched cautiously forward. His eyes darted from them to the food and he let out a pitiful whine.

“I thought he was a coyote at first,” she said, her voice low.

“Coyotes are fatter than that.”

“That’s why I decided he was a dog. Either he’s lost or someone dumped him off in the forest. As if a pet can survive out here by instinct.”

Her indignation didn’t surprise him. She’d always had a soft spot for animals, even wild ones. When they’d lived at the cabin, she’d hung bird feeders in the woods and set salt licks out for the deer.

He turned his attention back to the dog, who was creeping toward the food. He was some sort of shepherd mix, with a matted, tawny coat and dark gray mask and ears. The dog reached the food and stopped. Then suddenly, he bolted back to the woods.

Cade glanced at his watch again. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Go?” Jordan frowned. “But what about the dog?”

“He’ll eat as soon as we leave.”

“And then what? Where’s he going to get more food?” She planted her hands on her hips. The motion tightened the white T-shirt over her breasts. “You saw how skinny he is. And he needs to get to a vet. That front paw doesn’t look good.”

“We don’t have a choice. We need to get out of here before that front hits.”

“But we can’t just leave him here alone.”

That figured. She cared more about leaving a stray dog than she once had about her husband. “For God’s sake—”

“Forget it, Cade. I’m not leaving that poor dog behind. He’s already been abandoned once, and believe me, that’s enough for anyone.” Her dark eyes flashed. “Not that you’d understand that.”

Not that he’d understand what? “What the hell does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“The hell it doesn’t.” His irritation surged.

She lifted her hands and sighed. “All right, fine. I’ll tell you. It’s just that you’re always flying off and traveling somewhere. Having adventures and putting out fires. You don’t know what it’s like to be left behind, to be sitting at home waiting, day after lonely day. But I do. And believe me, I’m not doing that to the dog.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who left me.”

“Only because you’d already gone.”

Incredulity flooded through him. He would have laughed if his ribs didn’t ache so much. “Hell, that’s rich. You walk out without even a note. I come home to an empty house and a goddamn letter from your lawyer. And you accuse me of abandoning you?”

“You went to Alaska.”

He stared at her. “I was working. Earning money. You know, trying to support my wife?”

Her brows rose. “You’re not seriously saying you were doing it for my sake?”

“Hell, yes, I was doing it for you. Wasn’t I supposed to work?”

“But you were gone all the time. You hardly came back. You even joined that booster crew to Alaska.”

“That was my job,” he said tightly. “You knew that when we got married. The Forest Service owns you in the summer. They send you wherever the fires are. You can’t control where you go. And you can’t just turn work down.”

“You could have found a different job.”

“Right.” That was their problem, right there. Ten years ago, he’d idolized this woman. Worshipped her. Given her his heart, his soul. Everything he owned and every damned cent he earned. And she still hadn’t been satisfied. She’d wanted him to change who he was.

She bit her lip. Her dark eyes widened with that vulnerable look that always made him want to protect her.

His jaw flexed. She knew exactly how to play him, all right. Even knowing the truth, how she’d ripped out his heart and screwed him over, he had the ridiculous urge to console her.

Well, she’d suckered him in once with that helpless act. Damned if he would fall for it again.

She sighed. “Look. Can we just forget it? I don’t want to argue all the way to Missoula.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t need this aggravation. He had enough problems to deal with. He needed to hightail it back to Missoula and get himself checked by a doctor so he could return to the jump list.

“Catching the dog won’t take that long,” she added. “I’m sure he was somebody’s pet.”

“We’ve already stayed here too long. That road’s going to close any minute.”

“Is the fire really that close?”

He glanced at the thrashing treetops. “It depends on the wind speed, but yeah, it’s almost here.”

“But what’s the dog going to do in the fire?” Her dark eyes pleaded with his. “He can’t run with that hurt paw. And he’s so hungry.”

“He’ll get away.” He returned his gaze to the dog skulking from the safety of the trees. Despite his assurances, they both knew that he wouldn’t make it. He was far too weak to escape a wildfire.

“Just give me five more minutes.” Her soft brown eyes met his again, and despite the urgency, he felt himself waver. “Please?”

He pulled his gaze from hers and back to the swaying pine trees. He was a damn fool, risking his life for a stray mutt and a woman who had betrayed him. But crazy or not, the sooner they captured that dog, the faster they could leave the forest.

“Three,” he told her. “And not a second more.” Resigned, he opened the rear passenger door and riffled through his PG bag. He found his supply of beef jerky in the side compartment, removed several strips and handed them to Jordan. “Here. If this doesn’t get him, nothing will.”

“Thanks.” Her full mouth softened into a smile, and he felt the tug to his heart.

He was a fool, all right. Annoyed by his weakness for this woman, he strode to the front of the Jeep. Then he propped himself against it to wait.

Jordan walked to the edge of the road, broke off a piece of beef jerky and tossed it to the dog. The dog eyed it and scented the air. The warm wind blew dried pine needles across the road and lifted the fur on his ruff. After several seconds, he padded forward and licked the jerky, then finally gulped it down.

Jordan held out another piece. “Come on, sweetie,” she cooed. “Come here. We won’t hurt you.”

Without warning, Cade felt the caress of her soft voice, remembered it sliding over him in the dark, along with her lips and body. His gaze roved her tiny waist, the curve of her bottom encased in tight blue jeans, the pale patch of skin exposed beneath the T-shirt. He wanted to run his hands up that silken skin, taste her heat, her desire. Hear that low moan she made when he stroked her naked breasts.

He dragged in his breath. This was a hell of a time to remember their sex life—the one thing they’d gotten exactly right.

He forced his attention back to the dog. Looking as mesmerized as Cade had once been by Jordan’s voice, the dog crept cautiously closer. But he stopped a few feet from her hand.

Cade’s admiration rose. The dog was smarter than he’d ever been. That sexy voice wouldn’t trap him.

“Come here,” Jordan wheedled. The dog whined, and she tossed him another piece of jerky. Still trembling, he again inched forward. Then he snatched up the jerky and ate it.

“That’s right,” Jordan encouraged. She held out another piece. “You’re such a sweetie. Such a good dog.”

The dog moved even closer. Just inches from her hand, he stopped, plopped his hindquarters in the dust and craned his neck toward her hand.

“Look, he has a collar. He really was someone’s pet.”

“Jordan—”

“I know. We’re almost there. Such a good dog,” she continued cooing. Seconds later, the dog scooted forward and took the beef from her hand. “Good boy! Now let’s get you in the car. Come on, sweetie. Come on.” Holding another fragment of jerky, she backed slowly to the Jeep. The dog glanced at Cade and yawned.

“Look away,” she said.

“What?”

“You’re stressing him out. Don’t look him in the eyes. And yawn if you can. That will make him feel safer.”

Skeptical, but willing to do anything to hurry them out of the forest, Cade turned his head and faked a yawn. In his peripheral vision, he saw the dog creep toward the Jeep, and his respect for Jordan grew. So she could manage dogs.

“Okay, this is the test.” She set the jerky on the floor of the Jeep and stepped back. “Come on,” she urged.

The wind creaked the pine branches in the silence. The dog limped forward, then stopped. Seconds ticked by, and Cade’s impatience mounted. But just as he opened his mouth to protest, the dog jumped into the Jeep.

Jordan closed the door. “Got him.” She whirled around and beamed up at him, and he felt the kick to his heart. “That beef jerky was perfect. What a great idea.”

“I guess he just needed the right enticement.” His gaze slid over her creamy face to the pale smattering of freckles on her nose, over soft, full lips and down to her breasts. His pulse leaped. He knew what had motivated him.

Until she’d gutted his heart and stomped out his illusions. His jaw hardened. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Sure.” Hurt flashed in her eyes and she turned away.

Hell. He hadn’t meant to sound rude, but he didn’t have time to mince around her feelings. They had to get out of this forest fast.

While she retrieved the bowl she’d set in the road, he climbed into the Jeep and closed his door. The movement sent pain shooting through his shoulder and he struggled to breathe. As bad as he ached, he must have cracked his collarbone, maybe even a couple of ribs. Jordan slid in beside him and slammed her door, and the sound throbbed through his skull. He probably had a concussion, too. He just hoped it wouldn’t keep him off the jump list long.

She cranked the engine and they lurched forward. Unable to buckle his seat belt, he planted his feet wide against the floorboard to steady himself in the seat. Fighting off another bout of dizziness, he closed his eyes.

For several moments, they drove in silence. Warm air rushed through the open windows. The Jeep bounced down the dusty road, eating up the distance toward the front. Like any seasoned smokejumper, Cade used the spare time to rest.

“Do you smell something?” Jordan asked.

He blinked open his eyes and sniffed. “Yeah. That damn dog stinks.”

She shot him a wry smile. “I mean besides the dog. I could smell him out in the open.” Her smile faded, and worry crept into her eyes. “I think I smell smoke.”

He inhaled deeply this time, ignoring the ache in his ribs. The faint scent of burning pine filled his lungs. “Yeah, I smell it.”

“Do you think we’re too late to get through?”

“We’ll find out.” He scanned the thick trees lining the road but didn’t see signs of the fire.

“I’ll go faster.” She accelerated, and the Jeep leaped forward. Dirt spun under the tires and kicked up clouds of dust. They hit a hard bump, jarring his shoulder, and he choked back a groan. He didn’t care how much the damned thing throbbed. He’d have to wait and deal with it later, after they got past the fire.

The Jeep rocketed down the road and the smell of smoke grew stronger. Jordan stared straight ahead, her brow furrowed in concentration. Cade felt his own tension mount.

Then smoke drifted over the road and his stomach tightened. The fire was closer than he’d thought. And unless the front made a sharp detour, they’d be caught in its path.

They careened around a curve and up a knoll, and suddenly, the front appeared on the right. Deep-orange flames surged toward them. Dark, heavy smoke roiled over the road.

“Stop!”

Jordan slammed on the brakes. The Jeep skidded sideways, and Cade braced his boot against the dashboard to keep from hitting the windshield. They abruptly jerked to a stop.

The roar of the wildfire filled the forest. The wind whipped the tall flames skyward and curled them high through the trees. Dry branches exploded in brilliant bursts, shooting flames through the crowns.

“Oh, God,” Jordan breathed.

Cade frowned. From what he could see through the smoke, the perimeter was completely erratic. Long fingers of flame ran ahead of the front, pushed by the powerful winds. Sparks blew through the billowing smoke and torched spot fires over the road.

A gust of wind scattered ashes on the Jeep. Flare-ups hissed and snapped beside them.

“Cade,” Jordan said, her voice unsteady. “What are we going to do?”

Good question. “We can’t outrun that flame front.” Unless there was a natural barrier ahead that protected the road. And he sure as hell didn’t remember one.

His shoulder screamed as he reached back for the radio in his PG bag and he blinked against the pain. Maybe someone had reconned the fire from the air and knew if they could make it. The smoke was too thick for him to tell from the ground.

But then the wind gusted again. The smoke lifted, and he saw the road for himself. It ran straight ahead, right into the path of the fire.

He glanced at Jordan. Raw fear shone in her eyes. “Can we get out?” she asked, her voice trembling.

His gut twisted, and he reluctantly shook his head. “Not through that. We’re trapped.”

Chapter 3

Trapped? Jordan tore her gaze from Cade and gaped at the inferno raging before her. A fierce roar shook the air. Flames swirled up pines like fiery tornadoes and shot sparks far overhead.

Fear slammed through her nerves and she stifled a cry. They had to get away. Run! But she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even see where they needed to go.

Ashes blew across the windshield and the grass beside the Jeep started burning. A towering wall of fire charged toward them while thick, heavy smoke rolled over the road.

“Turn around,” Cade said over the noise.

“But the grass is burning!”

“So back up and then turn around.”

Of course. Her heart hammering, her breathing shallow, she threw the Jeep into Reverse and hit the gas. They sped back to a wide spot in the road and she slammed on the brakes. The Jeep bucked to a stop, then stalled. “Oh, God.”

“Take it easy,” Cade said, his voice even. “We’ve got time.”

Time? With the world around them on fire? She flicked her gaze to Cade. He slumped back in his seat, his head cradled casually against the headrest. How on earth could he stay so calm?

Her gaze switched to the windshield. The wild flames thundered over the earth, and terror raced through her chest. But Cade was right. This wasn’t the time to panic. She needed to control her fear and get them away from this fire.

Inhaling deeply, she cranked the engine and spun the wheel, making the Jeep lurch forward. Then she hit the brakes, shoved the gearshift into Reverse and shot back.

They stopped, and she sucked in another breath. She’d turned the Jeep around. Now she just had to drive away. Her heart still sprinting, she floored the gas pedal. The Jeep fishtailed, straightened and hurtled back up the dirt road.

They rounded a bend, and she looked in the rearview mirror. The flames disappeared behind the dense stands of fir trees, and she hitched out her breath. They were safe, at least for now. She eased up her foot on the gas.

Several breaths later, her heart stopped quaking. She pried her fingers from the steering wheel and rearranged her grip. The roar of the fire gradually faded, and her galloping pulse finally slowed.

But then she heard a soft, high whistle from the backseat. She pulled her foot off the gas and glanced back.

The dog huddled on the floor behind Cade’s seat, trembling wildly and breathing in thin, reedy gasps. “For goodness’ sake,” she said. He was hyperventilating. She reached back and stroked his soft head, and his worried gaze lifted to hers. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’re okay.”

At least she hoped so. She glanced at Cade, still slouched calmly in his seat, his booted feet planted on the floorboards. “What are we going to do now?”

His vibrant blue eyes met hers. “You remember that old logging trail past the cabin?”

“How could I forget it?” They’d hiked that trail dozens of times to picnic in the meadow by the stream.

At least they’d intended to picnic. Heat gathered low in her belly, along with a memory as intense as any fire. Of lying in the warm, sunlit grass, Cade’s strong arms holding her tight. His hard face taut, his breathing ragged. His eyes singeing hers.

His blue eyes narrowed, and she knew he remembered it, too. Her heart thumped hard against her ribs and she yanked her gaze to the road.

“It might not be open,” he continued, his voice rough. The husky timbre made her shiver. “I couldn’t tell when we were setting up to jump. The timber’s too heavy to see the road from the air.”

“I guess we can give it a try.”

“We don’t have a choice. There aren’t any other roads out here.”

She tried to picture the abandoned road. She remembered long, deep ruts and knee-high weeds, at least in the section they’d hiked. They’d never quite made it past that meadow.

She cleared her throat. “Do you know where it comes out?”

“According to the map, it should hook on with another Forest Service road on the other side of the mountain. That’s if we can get through.”

“And if we can’t?”

“We’ll figure something out.”

That remark was so typical of Cade that, despite her fear, the corner of her mouth curved up. “How many times have I heard that line?”

He lifted his uninjured shoulder, and she marveled again at his calm. He never worried or panicked, even with a forest fire licking his heels. He excelled when things got tough.

His confidence impressed her, though, and always had. And his strength. Her gaze slid down his corded neck and broad shoulders to those big, callused hands and muscled thighs. He was a tough, capable man, all right, and it had been easy to let him take charge.

But after he’d left, none of that strength had helped her. Not during the endless nights she’d spent alone. Not when she’d discovered she was pregnant. And especially not on the desperate drive to the hospital or in that cold, white hospital bed.

Or during the grief-stricken days that followed, when loss turned to desolation.

A hollow feeling filled her chest. She’d never told Cade about the baby. When he hadn’t returned, she’d simply packed a bag and left, the same as he’d done to her.

A sliver of guilt pierced her throat. She knew she’d handled that badly. Instead of fleeing Missoula, she should have stayed and told him the truth. But she’d been nineteen years old, in an agony of pain, and so shattered she couldn’t think straight.

And what did it matter now? The past was gone. And at least she’d learned her lesson. After suffering through a childhood with a wandering father and then that lonely marriage to Cade, she wanted a man who stayed home. And she’d have one, as soon as she got them out of the forest.

Her mind safely back on track, she drove quickly along the dusty road, past the spot where they’d rescued the dog. Minutes later, their old cabin came into view. Despite her neglect, it hadn’t changed much over the years. Dead branches littered the rooftop, but the weathered logs framing the one-room structure still lent it a sturdy look.

“You still have that chain saw?”

Startled, she glanced at Cade. “You think the road’s that bad?”

“It could be.”

She sucked in a breath. If trees blocked the road, it would take forever to cross the mountain. And what if the fire came their way?

Determined not to panic, she hissed her breath back out. “It’s in the toolshed.” She parked between the trees behind the cabin and cut the engine.

Cade climbed down, and she opened her door to follow. Then she paused. She’d had a hard time cleaning that cabin, surrounded by impressions of Cade. Every chipped plate, every battered utensil had flooded her with memories, reminding her of those tender days. And the bed….

Her face flamed. No wonder she’d ignored the cabin all these years. It had been far easier to let it go than relive those delirious times. And how could she stand to be here with him now?

She had no choice. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath of pine-tinged air and stepped down. “We’ll be right back,” she told the dog and closed the door.

Fir needles cushioned her steps as she trailed Cade to the wooden toolshed behind the cabin. She tried not to walk too close, to keep some distance between them. She didn’t want to feel his heat, his power, that mesmerizing tick of desire that consumed her whenever he was in sight.

He stopped at the door and waited for her to unlock it. She stepped beside him and that smoky scent reached her nostrils, along with the essence of Cade. Her head felt light, and her pulse quickened at the vivid memories. How many times had they done this together, coming home to the cabin? But back then, they’d be laughing. Cade would pull her close and nuzzle her neck….

Her hands shaking, her face burning, she fumbled to unlock the rusty padlock securing the door. She didn’t dare look at Cade.

She finally unhooked the lock and stepped back. Cade moved forward and she braved a glance at his face. His jaw was rigid, the muscles along his cheeks tense.

Without warning, his gaze met hers. And for an instant, she saw that old fire in his eyes, the urgency and passion.

And then, just as fast, it was gone.

Unable to breathe, she yanked her gaze to the ground. And suddenly, an ache swelled in her heart, along with a deep sense of loss, as if something special had disappeared from her life, something unique. A connection, a sense of destiny she’d never felt with anyone since. And maybe never would again.

Her throat cramped as Cade shoved the creaking door open and stepped past her into the shed. His boots tramped hard on the wooden floor, and his wide shoulders filled the narrow doorway. She blinked back the blur in her eyes.

Seconds later, he turned and handed her a coil of nylon line with an old wooden clothespin stuck to it. Somehow the rope made her feel even worse, and the wedge in her throat grew thicker. It shouldn’t have been fun washing their clothes by hand, stringing that line across the cabin in the winter, letting the clothes dry by the heat of the woodstove while they made love on the bed. But dear God, she’d adored this man.