The Firefighter's Match

After a long pause, JJ offered, “I did, once. Believe, I mean.” Her voice was quiet, almost weary. “At least I thought I did.”

“And then?” He rolled over so that he was on his side facing her. She was fascinating. There wasn’t another word for it. Alex felt like he could stay up and talk out here for weeks.

“And then I saw too many things that made it hard to keep believing.” He knew not to press for anything further, but some part of him was grateful when, after a long pause, she added, “I was in the war.”

It explained so much. Her hard edges, the way her eyes assessed things, the weariness that seemed to inhabit every part of her. Suddenly every response he could think of sounded trite and placating.

“Yep,” she said, twice as wearily as before. “It’s always a fabulous conversation killer.”

“No, it’s just...”

“Please.” JJ held up a hand. “I’m so used to it by now. I’ve heard all the standard required replies and silence is actually a nice change.”

“I don’t know how you come back from something like that.” His own weariness, how globetrotting for adventure had lost its luster seemed downright ridiculous now.

“I suppose that makes two of us.” She got up to leave.

Alex scrambled upright. “Don’t. Please don’t go like that. Not now.” Her eyes looked a thousand miles deep, boring into Alex the way they did right now. “Two minutes. Just stay two more minutes.”

She stayed two more hours, still lingering when it started to rain. They got past the awkwardness, settling into a companionship that was as startling as it was soothing. Even soaked to the skin, it was the best night of his life.

Chapter Two

Worst day of my life.

Alex let that thought sink in as he raised his hand to knock on her cottage door two nights later. Sure, he could have called—the office had given him her cell number—but this wasn’t the kind of news that ought to be delivered over the phone. I owe Josephine Jones the dignity of hearing about this face to face. Now he knew her full name and was stunningly sorry he did. It’s going to be awful. In so many ways.

He knew she’d be up despite the excruciatingly early hour. In the days since they’d met, he had come to adore her insomnia with as much strength as he had once hated his. It was a terrible thing to lose the ability to sleep when the rest of the world could. Until JJ, he’d cursed his night-owl tendencies. For the past days, he had welcomed them.

Alex had checked the dock before heading up the gravel path that led to her house. He’d tried to tell himself that he was hoping to find her there because the peaceful surroundings might soften the hard news he carried. But he knew that wasn’t the real reason why he’d gone to the dock. He had taken the time down there to gather his own composure, to pray for the right words.

Finally, he’d realized there were no right words. Not for this kind of news. There was no easy way to admit to her what he knew, who he was, how much of the blame for this tragic news he was bringing her could be laid at his own feet.

I asked You to show me why I shouldn’t leave Adventure Gear behind, Lord. Did You have to show me this way?

He rapped gently on the cottage door, cringing as the light came on in the window he knew was her kitchen. It was still early enough for the moon to be hanging close and delicate in the brightening sky.

She opened the door with a yawning smile. “Hey. A bit early, even for you.”

He still couldn’t figure out how JJ exuded such a powerful, unusual beauty to him. So different from the usual frills and baubles. The difference struck him again as he stared at her, even as regret cut a sharp edge into his gut. She’ll probably hate me by the end of today. Maybe even by the end of this conversation.

“This can’t wait. May I come in?”

She had every right to look baffled. They’d both been out here for solitude, and though a friendship had begun to grow between them, they had kept out of each other’s private lives by mutual intuition. Really, it was the most amazing thing he’d ever known, this odd relationship he had with JJ. Their no-details pact had spawned the most powerful and deep conversations. Nature did that—pulled people into a bubble that shut out the mundane world. Alex had spent a career capitalizing on the natural world’s ability to heal a person’s spirit.

Only now it was coming back to slap him in the face. Hard.

“Um...sure. I can put some coffee on or something.”

They probably wouldn’t have time for coffee once he gave her the news. Alex was pretty sure he’d already taken more time than was wise, fishing fruitlessly for some kinder way to deliver the facts he came to share. “Don’t bother. But you need to sit down. I’ve...um...I’ve got a few things to tell you.”

JJ yanked her blond ponytail tighter—a habit of hers, he’d discovered—and led them into the kitchen. It had the sparse, uniform quality of a rental property, but he could see bits of JJ’s personality in the crock of flowers sitting in the middle of the table and a few other touches. All he knew was that she was here for the summer—he hadn’t even learned why until the call from his brother, Sam, had come. Had he known her last name, he might have made the connection to her brother and steered clear of those blue eyes. At the moment that little detail felt like a cruel joke God had played.

“What is going on?”

“My name is Alex Cushman.”

“Hey, wait, why are you telling me your last name? I thought we...”

Alex kept going, plowing through this before it hurt more. “My brother is Sam Cushman. Together we own Adventure Gear.”

Her brows furrowed. She hadn’t yet put together why that mattered, but it only took a few seconds before she said, “The sporting equipment company?”

“We supply equipment to the television show Wide Wild World.”

Her eyes widened. If she’d been sleepy before, she was wide-awake now. “The reality competition show? Where Max is?”

“Where Max is.”

“But wait, I never told you about Max. How do you know all...?” Her features sharpened instantly. “Wait...what’s going on? Why are you here?”

“There’s been an accident on the set of the show. Involving Max. I’m here to take you to the hospital because it’s pretty serious.” Pretty serious. He’d had to think for five minutes to come up with the right words to walk her up to the reality of what had happened to Max Jones.

Her hands covered her face for an instant, then went back down to fist in her lap. “He’s okay?”

Alex tried to keep his voice level and calm. He’d really hoped to avoid that question. “No, Max is not okay, but he survived and we’re arranging for him to get the best of care as fast as we can. That means you ought to pull a few things together and come with me. They’ve taken him into Chicago by helicopter, and we’ve got one waiting for you and me over in Dubuque. If you have parents who ought to come, give me that information and I’ll pass it along to the studio to arrange travel.”

“Mom doesn’t know?”

“Max only listed you on his emergency info. I didn’t know you were Max’s sister until about thirty minutes ago. I’m sorry.”

JJ shot off the chair. “Of course Max left Mom out of the loop. He’s fabulous at that.” The split-second frustration was quickly replaced with teary-eyed worry. “What happened to him?”

Alex had decided to parcel out the details of the accident in small stages, giving JJ time to cope with the catastrophe. Catastrophe. That was one of Sam’s favorite words, one Alex usually banned from his vocabulary—but it fit this time.

“Max fell during a night climb.”

“Fell? Far?”

“Yes. He was airlifted in serious but stable condition to Lincoln General about twenty minutes ago.” He was hoping that would be enough, that she would take those facts and move forward to gather her things. She didn’t budge. “JJ, we should go as soon as we can.”

He saw something click behind her eyes. She shifted gears into a harder, more precise version of herself, but she still didn’t get up. Instead, her eyes narrowed at Alex as she watched him more closely. Of course. She’d mentioned she was planning to use her experience to join the volunteer fire department here if she stayed. She wasn’t just a soldier—she must have been a first responder of some kind. She wasn’t going to let him off with a vague assessment of Max’s condition. Her eyes told him she needed as much information as he could give right now, no matter how bad.

“They suspect a spinal cord injury. He’s not conscious, and they’re going to keep him sedated while they assess the...” he hesitated to use this word but knew it was what she was looking for “...damage. Lincoln General has the best doctors for this. The show’s producers are doing all they can but right now we really should go.”

She’d been too calm up to this point. The women he knew would have lost it ten minutes ago, would be rushing in tears to the car he had outside. JJ was pulling herself inward, winding up into a tight ball of control. It worried him more than tears would, especially knowing what he did about why she was in Gordon Falls. She’d come here to escape the tension and turmoil she’d known overseas, and he’d literally brought trauma to her doorstep.

He’d almost breathed a sigh of relief when she turned toward the hallway, hopefully to gather her things. He went to make a call to the office for an update but stopped when she turned at the end of the room to glare at him with ice-cold eyes. “You’re Alex Cushman. You own Adventure Gear and you’re involved with the show WWW where Max just practically got himself killed.”

It was an excruciatingly fair assessment of the circumstances. Alex could only nod.

She made a disgusted sound that Alex felt in the pit of his stomach and left the room.

* * *

JJ had ridden in helicopters more times than she could count. She’d done things—seen things—that would make most people run in fear. Serving as a firefighter in Afghanistan had given her nerves of steel.

Or so she’d thought. As the helicopter swooped up off the ground and veered east toward Chicago, a sick sense of dread filled her. She’d been in enough crises to pick up on everything Alex wasn’t saying. Worry about her brother battled with anger at herself for feeling so disappointed in the man Alex had turned out to be. The dreamy bubble she’d cast around this stranger, this man who had captured her imagination, had now burst in the worst way possible.

When had she lost her common sense? Their avoidance of everyday topics, deliberately not sharing their identities... All that seemed beyond foolhardy now. Ordinarily, JJ was nothing if not careful.

Unlike Max. Max was a carnival of carelessness. Suddenly the jokes Mom and her late father would make, like, “It’s a wonder Max hasn’t gotten himself killed yet,” weren’t so funny. A wave of concern for her younger brother waged war with anger over having to deal with another Max-induced calamity. She leaned her head against the aircraft’s cool glass in an effort to calm her roiling stomach.

“Are you going to be okay?” Everything about Alex had shifted in the past hour. He’d lost the casual air, that look of having all the time in the world that had first drawn her to his silhouette as he sat on the dock in the moonlight. Now, even over the chopping of the helicopter blades, his voice was clipped and tight. The unmistakable tone of someone trying to manage a crisis.

“I doubt it.” She wasn’t going to give Mr. Adventure Gear the satisfaction of an “I’ll be fine.” Nothing about this was going to be fine, at least not anytime soon. A man’s mother isn’t hauled in from out of state for small injuries. Damaged spinal cords didn’t heal completely, if ever. She looked at him and leaned in. “Tell me what you know.”

“There’s not much to know just yet.”

Standard first-responder jargon. “Tell me all the stuff you haven’t told me yet. I’m not going to go to pieces.” Alex’s eyes told her he feared just that. Other people probably would in this situation. Only she wasn’t other people. “Look,” she tried again, although shouting over the helicopter noise didn’t exactly make for easy chatting. “I’d feel better with more facts.” And less coddling, she added silently.

Alex raked his fingers through his hair. “They were rappelling down the side of a cliff. Darkness, bats, all kinds of good television. Evidently you earned bonus points if you went first because no one knew what was at the bottom, and Max jumped at the chance to increase his lead. He’d been the clear front-runner all week.”

“I had no idea, but then again, how could I? You don’t allow me any communication with Max.” Technically, it was the show that didn’t allow communication—Max had shown her the pile of “do not disclose” statements he’d had to sign before the car had come to pick him up. She knew it wasn’t fair to blame Alex for what WWW had done, but the panic was yelling accusations in the back of her brain she didn’t have the energy to fight. “I didn’t even know he was in the state park...so close.”

“You weren’t supposed to know. The only reason I knew was because it was my job to make sure equipment got there. I’m not even sure Max knew he was only an hour from home. They do a good job of isolating the set.”

He was skirting the issue. “So what happened?”

“He fell. We think he may have swatted a bat and taken his hand off the break strand—I don’t know the details yet, really—but he swung far to one side and hit the platform where the camera crew was.” She watched Alex pause for a moment, crafting his next words. “His back struck the metal scaffolding.”

“Was he wearing safety gear?” Max was in the habit of skipping such equipment. In the week before he left, as he was teaching her how to rent the kayaks and canoes he offered alongside cabin and motorboat rentals, she watched him give a safety lesson five times a day to customers, then completely disregard all of it when he went out himself.

“Yes, he was. The show required it. I don’t think I’ve heard mention of any head injuries, although he wasn’t conscious when they lifted him. I do know he...hit...pretty hard. I’ll check my phone again when we land but I don’t think they really have a lot of information. I don’t want to tell you something I can’t be sure is true.”

“Yeah.” JJ fought the gruesome image of Max’s limp body being pulled from the rigging. She kept reminding herself he was still alive. But how close to death and for how long?

“Hey.” Alex’s hand landed softly on her shoulder. “I’m really sorry this happened. I’m praying for Max.”

“Sure.” The past hour’s revelations were ambushing her composure, stealing her sense of control when she needed it most. She had been just as guilty of not divulging personal information during their long dock conversations as Alex had been, but somehow it all felt like hiding to her now. Her head knew Alex hadn’t deliberately hidden his connection with WWW any more than she’d deliberately hidden her combat tour, but her gut felt cheated. Lied to, deceived, blindsided.

“They texted me just before we took off to say Max was going into surgery. You won’t be able to see him when we get there, but you should be able to when he wakes up.” He pulled out his phone to scroll down and reread the message, then looked up at her, his face cast in orange by the sunrise in front of them. “Although they are going to keep him under heavy sedation for the next twenty-four hours.”

“A medically induced coma.” JJ wasn’t a doctor, but she’d been near enough medic units to know that didn’t call for a lot of optimism.

“They didn’t use those words, but I’d guess yes.” She watched him choose to share the next fact, able to read the reluctance on his face. “The spinal cord injury is far enough up that they are worried about the use of his arms. I want you to believe me, JJ, when I say we are working with the studio to bring the very best people in on this. He’ll have the best care available—I promise you that.”

She couldn’t find much comfort in that. In Afghanistan, she’d seen burn victims given “the very best care available.” It only meant their lives were ten percent less excruciating. That didn’t seem like much of an advantage.

Alex checked his watch. “We should be there in twenty minutes.”

Her mind turned back to the secrets he had kept from her. Now all of his upscale toys made sense. His shoes were top of the line; his leather bag looked like it had cost more than her first car. It was logical that he’d own the best of his store’s merchandise, but it suddenly filled her with resentment. She was finding out something new about Alex Cushman every minute, and that didn’t feel good at all. “But you don’t work for WWW. Why are you here and not them?”

That seemed to catch him off guard. He thought for a moment before answering. “Because it was the right thing to do. I was nearby and I knew you. I didn’t think you should hear this news from a stranger.”

The irony of his words struck them both at the same time. He was a stranger. She knew Alex—she’d been startled, almost frightened by how familiar he felt out there on the dock—but she didn’t know him.

“I’m not a stranger, JJ.” He’d sensed what she was thinking. “I’m so, so sorry this happened but I’m glad I have the chance to be here to help you and your family.”

Corporate sorry—the “don’t sue me” kind of sorry—wasn’t anything close to the kind of sorry that would make up for the impact this would have on Max’s life. Even if he survived his injuries, he’d be dealing with the consequences for months. Maybe even years. People didn’t just get up and walk away from spinal cord injuries. Max’s life as he knew it might very well be over. “Sorry” didn’t come close to covering that.

Alex grabbed her hand. “Hey, I know you’re upset. You have every right to be. But please don’t cast me as the enemy right now. I’m here and I want to help and I’m going to help. I’ll make sure Adventure Gear and WWW take responsibility for whatever happened and make it right. I want you to believe that I’m not just spouting some company line here. I truly do care about what happens to you and your brother. I’m still just Alex.”

JJ pulled her hand from his. “No, you’re not.”

Chapter Three

The panic in his brother’s voice was getting annoying. “This could be a publicity nightmare, Alex. You need to get back to Denver and hold down the fort while I stay here on the set. I talked to the guard station an hour ago and he told me there was an Entertainment Today reporter sniffing around. The studio’s not containing it—for all I know they want it to leak to give the show more publicity. Some of these production assistants are too young not to fall for a reporter flashing a wad of cash for spilling the details.”

Alex leaned onto the cold hospital cafeteria table and rested his head in his hand. It didn’t feel like there was enough coffee in the world to get him through today. “Sam, they just airlifted a contestant to a trauma center. It won’t take long for people to figure out there’s been an accident.”

“I want to keep a lid on things for a few days at least. I just hope the WWW execs are good at this kind of damage control.” Since the beginning of their association with Wide Wild World, Sam had an annoying habit of counting himself among the studio types. It was one of the reasons Alex steered clear of any involvement in this promotional deal, compromising instead with a quick product delivery and a “vacation nearby.”

“Let them handle it, Sam. We’re just a vendor. I stepped in to help with JJ because I was nearby, but the heavy lifting on this belongs to them.”

There was a brief, uncomfortable pause before his brother said, “Not entirely.”

Alex squeezed his eyes shut. In the seven years he and his brother had built Adventure Gear into a serious player in the outdoor equipment market, nothing good had ever come after Sam’s use of the phrase “not entirely.” “What are you saying?”

“We don’t really know what happened yet.”

“Of course we don’t know. Max Jones isn’t even out of surgery. It’ll be hours before we know what’s going on. If then.” Alex’s stomach twisted as he remembered the look in JJ’s eyes as the doctor had explained the situation. There were so many unknowns at this point, and JJ didn’t strike him as the type to handle ambiguity well.

“I don’t mean with Jones. I mean with the fall.”

“That’s what those stunt production guys are for. It’s their job to solve those kinds of problems before they happen. And right now, it’s their job to figure out where they went wrong. I really think you need to keep out of this as much as you can, Sam. We don’t need to get mixed up in a situation like this.” That sounded pretty ironic coming from the guy who’d just escorted the victim’s sister to the bedside. Well, not bedside yet.

She’d looked terrible sitting on a stiff couch in the ill-named “trauma family lounge.” But when he’d tried again to comfort her while she waited for Max to come out of surgery, she’d barked at him to leave her alone. No matter what she said, Alex had no plans to leave until JJ’s mother showed up. This didn’t look like the kind of crisis anyone should face alone. He’d wait out an hour in this sad little cafeteria, then bring her some coffee and maybe try to get her to eat some breakfast.

“We’re mixed up in it already. Really, Alex, I think you should go back to Denver.”

There was a reason Alex called his brother Chicken Little when they were younger. The sky was always falling with Sam. And he usually wanted Alex to fix it. “They don’t need me back at headquarters. A man’s future is hanging in the balance here. I think WWW can handle any publicity woes.”

He heard Sam pull a door shut and his brother’s voice lowered to barely a whisper. “They’re calling it equipment failure.”

That sure sounded like studio types to him. “Come on, Sam, what did you think they were going to say? They can’t very well stand up and boast that one of their production assistants dropped Max. Where was the guy on the belay line when Max fell, anyway?”

“The producer just roasted me in her office. She says the guy on the belay line is saying it was gear failure. Our equipment. They’re saying it was our line and hardware that failed.”

This was exactly why Alex had never been keen on this promotional venture in the first place. It raised their visibility, but it also made them a target for finger-pointing if anything went wrong. Adventure Gear didn’t need the national exposure—they already had a good reputation among outdoor enthusiasts. The people who spent serious money on their gear knew AG products were top-notch. Alex never saw the point in high visibility to the reality television audience—he guessed ninety percent of them were couch potatoes who’d never seen the inside of a tent and never planned to. “They’re blowing smoke. You know it’s usually human error, and our stuff is better than that. And they aren’t even using our SpiderSilk lines until next season.”

“Not entirely.”

The tiny red alarm in the back of Alex’s mind that had started flashing hours ago suddenly bloomed into a full-blown wail. A surge of dread filled him so quickly he nearly lost the horrid coffee he’d just downed. Oh, no. The SpiderSilk prototype lines he’d delivered. They wouldn’t, would they? Alex stood up, not caring that he knocked the chair back to rattle on the floor in the empty cafeteria. “Sam. Sam, tell me you did not allow WWW to use the SpiderSilk. They were only supposed to look at it for next season—not use it now. Tell me they weren’t using the SpiderSilk. Tell me that right now.”

The silence hit him like a brick wall.

“Right here, right now, Sam. Tell me you didn’t give them some kind of permission to use the SpiderSilk. Tell me Max Jones didn’t fall from a rigging of the SpiderSilk.”

“You’d said they were through testing.”

Alex sank back to the table, stunned. Oh, Father God, what have I done by stepping back and letting Sam run things? I knew something like this would happen if I left. I knew it and ignored it because I was sick of Sam.