High Heat

by Annabeth Albert

  Because it’s scary. Funny how being this close to a raging wildfire wasn’t as scary as opening his heart up to another person, truly trusting them, and being willing to risk pain. Maybe it would be worth it, Garrick had said. And he had a point—there was a place where the benefits of being with someone outweighed the risk of hurt. He could see the outline of that place now, a shimmering mirage of a future he desperately wanted and was afraid to hope for. Could he do it? Could he offer up that kind of trust?

  “Four-Five-One, this is base, do you copy?” His radio crackled with Garrick’s voice coming in loud and strong.

  “Roger that, base. Go ahead.” He wasn’t sure whether to hope Garrick could hear that he’d been thinking about him or not.

  “The fire’s turning. We need to get your crew out of there ASAP.”

  Oh crap. No more daydreaming. His spine stiffened, muscles coiling.

  “No burnout?” He was already on it, racing toward Bosler, who had been checking the crew members on the farther end of the line.

  “No time.” Garrick’s voice was clipped, a tone Rain recognized as him trying not to get emotional. Damn. He must be seriously worried for them. For Rain. Rain’s pulse sped up as Garrick continued, “Your orders are to get back to your hardline anchor point, follow the riverbed.”

  “Copy that. I’m advising Bosler now.”

  “Good. We’re extracting crews as quickly as we can along the river. Priority is going to a couple of serious injuries first. Please advise if you run into problems.”

  “Will do.”

  “Rain—” It was the first time Garrick had ever used Rain’s first name on a transmission and it made his heart leap up into his throat, made it hard to keep listening, given the emotions that swamped him.

  “Yeah?”

  “You guys be safe, okay? Move fast. No stupid risks, but move.”

  “Got it. We’ll make the river.”

  “Stay in contact.”

  “Roger that.” He had to fall back on his training because simply hearing Garrick worried was enough to make talking difficult. Garrick cared. And maybe he cared about all the crews, but there was something extra there, an urgency in his voice that said far more than the actual words he used.

  As he helped Bosler round everyone up and start hustling toward the river, he kept coming back to that point. Garrick cared. He remembered the day when they thought they’d found Cookie’s owner. Garrick had been willing to let her go because it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t mean he didn’t care about her. And maybe that was what he’d been trying to tell Rain in his own roundabout way—he was willing to let Rain go because some mixed-up code of ethics said that was the right thing to do. But he didn’t mean he didn’t care. He might even love Rain, might want him that much, but he’d been willing to let him go because he thought he had no choice.

  That was who he was. The guy who did the right thing, even when it was hard, even when he didn’t want to. That was the guy Rain cared so much about. In some weird way, him being willing to let Rain go made him care that much more, now that he saw it for what it was. It wasn’t Garrick caring too little. It was him caring so very much. And that realization had him moving that much faster, made his movements that much more urgent. Garrick wanted to talk, and suddenly, he had so much he wanted to say to him.

  No way was he missing the chance to see if they could make this right. His hand landed on the radio. The temptation to say something was almost overwhelming, but he needed so much more than a quick transmission. Trust. Came back to that. He had to trust that it wasn’t too late for them. Had to trust that Garrick would listen. And he had to trust that he could get through this.

  His crew slipped and slid over rugged terrain, helping each other, climbing over felled trees and scrambling down big boulders. The smoke was getting thicker, more cloying. They needed to stop, put damp bandannas over their mouths and noses. They didn’t have the full masks like the hotshot crews closer in. Those crews would also have the fireproof shelters to deploy in an emergency if they were unable to outrun the fire. Rain’s crew wasn’t supposed to be this close in, and the fear from some of his crew members was a palpable thing, clear in their wide eyes and jerky movements.

  “Come on, come on,” he urged. They just needed to make it to the river. Garrick was counting on him. And so was his crew—he’d worked all summer with these people. He knew Zeb had plans for a spring wedding, and there were so many other stories he’d heard during their long hours together as a crew. He wasn’t leaving anyone behind. Even Bosler moved with haste, far speedier than he looked. Like Rain, he was right there, helping people over rocks, cheering them on as they approached the river.

  The sound of rushing water was quite possibly the best thing he’d ever heard, and it spurred them on, pushing through the brush to reach the pebbled banks. As the last crew member stumbled out of the forest, Rain made the mistake of turning around. The fire was ever closer, thick smoke and glowing embers. They had some measure of safety here at the river—a hard line the fire couldn’t cross. However, they were also well and truly trapped now and had to hope the smoke didn’t overwhelm them. Rescue couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter Twenty

  Staying still was the hardest thing Garrick had ever had to do. He’d had to do his job under challenging circumstances before, but nothing compared to the hell that was knowing Rain’s group was in serious danger and all he could do was pray they made it to the river in time. And really, it wasn’t nothing, but all he could do was continue his job—getting the other crews to safety as well, deploying the medical assistance needed, coordinating with the other dispatchers for the hotshot and engine crews.

  “Base? This is four-five-one.” Never had Rain’s voice on the radio been so welcome and never had Garrick’s gut churned so hard. If they weren’t to the river yet...

  “Copy that, four-five-one. Go ahead.”

  “All crew members present and accounted for. We’re at the river. It’s smoky as hell and we can see the fire now, but we made it.”

  “Thank God.” He couldn’t even pretend at professional distance right then, resting his head on the desk for a long moment before he regained the ability to speak. “We’re going to get you out of there, okay? It may take some time, but help is on the way.”

  “Good. Is there any word on our boss?”

  Typical Rain, caring about others even as his own life was in peril.

  “Helitack crew was able to get a chopper in the air before the fire turned. She’s at the hospital in Bend. Medics said she was stable. You did the right thing, calling for help.”

  “Roger that. We better conserve battery power.”

  “You do that. But keep checking in as you’re able. I’ll update with an ETA on extraction.”

  “Got it.” Rain sounded like Garrick felt—like he was desperate to add something personal but didn’t dare. There was too much unsaid between them, too much uncertainty for a public channel. He wasn’t going to rest easy, though, until that crew was back, until he could lay eyeballs and hands on Rain.

  “Did four-five-one make it to the river?” Ryland asked a few moments later, stopping by Garrick’s station.

  “Yep.” Garrick had to swallow hard, merely thinking about how close they’d come to not making it.

  “Good. That’s your friend, right? Glad for you both that he made it out. I...uh...not sure what I’d do in your shoes.” Ryland looked away, and not for the first time, Garrick wondered what was up with his personal life. Garrick couldn’t recall ever knowing him to date much, and despite their commuting together all summer, he had shown a deft talent for avoiding any talk about his life outside work. Garrick wouldn’t wish the anxiety of the past few hours on anyone, but he’d also rather have Rain, have that risk of pain, than not at all.

  And the power of that realization had him restless, needing to s
ee for himself that Rain was okay, even as he forced himself to focus on work, taking the latest fire data and working on a plan for which crews to send where and relaying all the information he’d gathered from the multiple hand crews on the line, not only Rain’s.

  For the first time since he’d been on a hand crew himself, all those many summers ago, he felt truly helpless. All he could do was handle the flow of information. The final call on who to send where was on Adams and Ryland. The actual fieldwork was up to others, and he had to trust in their abilities to carry out assignments.

  But hadn’t that always been the case? He’d felt invincible as a smoke jumper, on top of the world, at the peak of his skills, but really he’d only been as good as his crew, as the support personnel, as the other crews, the interagency coordination, all of it working together. The idea that he’d been in charge of his own destiny was merely an illusion, one that didn’t give enough credit to others.

  And that made him think all the more about Rain and their fight and where they were in their relationship and how much he could truly expect to control.

  “What’s the status of being able to extract?” he asked Ryland some time later after he returned from a meeting with Adams and other brass. “I’ve been in contact with crews all along the river waiting for news, but so far, everyone accounted for.”

  “The wind and smoke are finally cooperating. We’ve got airtankers flying in now, dropping water. Helicopter crews will be next, starting with the highest priority evacuations, and we’ll have other crews walking out where that’s a safe option.” He clapped Garrick on the shoulder. “We’ll get your guy out. Promise. And once we do, I’m sending you for some rest. Even if the worst of the fire is past, cleanup is going to be some time. We need to pace ourselves.”

  “Understood.”

  He busied himself with staying in contact with the various hand crews waiting, relief coursing through him each time he got to hear Rain’s voice with updates. They were tired and hungry and banged up with the real worry being all the smoke, but they were alive and Garrick was intent on keeping them that way.

  Then finally, late in the day, temperatures dipping, word came that the hand crews were starting to return. The food truck geared up for the onslaught of ravenous firefighters, while Garrick braced himself against a tidal wave of emotion. Taking a long overdue break, he rolled out onto the trailer’s small makeshift porch—a narrow platform with a couple of steps. Studying the crowd of returning hot and dusty people, he looked fruitlessly for Rain.

  “Garrick!” There he was, hopelessly rumpled, wet boots and dirty face, and the best thing Garrick had ever seen.

  “Hey you.” People were everywhere around them—in line for food and medical attention and talking in clumps of threes and fours. All his attention was on Rain, but he was also acutely aware that they were far from alone. “You made it out.” He had to swallow hard, simply thinking again about how close the long day had come to a different ending.

  “I did.” Rain regarded him solemnly, their eyes having a deeper conversation than their voices were capable of.

  “Ryland’s making noises about people getting rest. I think he’s going to send me home soon, at least for a break before my next shift. Would you want me to see if he’ll let you go too?”

  “I’m staying.” Despite him looking dead on his feet, Rain’s voice was firm. “Sorry. There’s nothing I’d like more. But my crew needs me. We’ve already lost our boss, and Bosler’s trying to fill the gap, but word is that they’ll be sending us out on mop-up duty first thing in the morning. I should probably crash in Zeb’s tent again.”

  “Yeah.” Garrick would have said the same thing in his shoes. Duty first, even when it sucked. “I’ll catch a ride with someone else heading back. I talked to my dad. Cookie is living the life of luxury at his place. Even went to work with him today.”

  “She’ll still be happy to see you.”

  “Hope so.” Garrick tried to keep his voice light, but it was hard with his heart hammering like this. “And you? You gonna be happy to see me when this is all over? Gonna come over?”

  “It’s probably a terrible idea—”

  “Rain.” Garrick wasn’t above begging. “We need to talk.”

  “Yeah, we do.” Mercifully, Rain nodded. “I’ve got...so much to say. And you’re going to listen?”

  “I will.” He held Rain’s gaze as he promised. “And I get it. You want to see the fire through. I do too, as much as Ryland and Adams will let me. We can wait. And that’s what I should have said sooner. You do what you have to do. I’ll be waiting for you. As long as it takes. I mean that.”

  “I’ll find you then.”

  Throat tight, all Garrick could do was nod. He couldn’t tell him everything right then, but he could tell him that he’d wait, could put that much on the line. And he would. He’d wait for Rain, wait for their talk, wait for a chance to make this right between them. There was so much he wanted to say, and most importantly, he wanted to keep his promise to listen to Rain, really and truly listen this time with his whole heart and without old fears ringing in his ears.

  * * *

  Rain probably should have showered first. Eaten some hot food that included a vegetable. Last few days, being a vegetarian had meant a lot of bread, a lot of rice, and far more cookies than prudent as the staff of the food truck had tried to keep him and the other non-meat eaters in enough calories to keep their energy up. And a change of clothes wouldn’t have been a bad idea either. He stank of smoke, probably would for a week. He might never get the scent out of his car or hat.

  In short, he was a mess, but he’d promised Garrick days earlier that he’d find him, and somehow keeping that promise seemed more important than anything else, including the sleep he desperately needed. The interagency coordinators had dispersed the fire camp even though the cleanup efforts would continue in the coming weeks, sending everyone home to rest and regroup.

  He’d talked to Garrick briefly earlier. Wait. Was that yesterday? All the days were starting to run together. Regardless, Garrick had been around sporadically the past few days, a few stilted conversations here and there. But Rain had a feeling that Ryland and Adams had made him getting rest a priority, since he couldn’t exactly pile in a tent like Rain and the rest of the hand crew guys, and he’d been among the first admin people dismissed as they disbanded camp, catching a ride back with a woman who’d been working in the medical tent. In any event, their eyes had met through the crowd of people, and he’d seen that promise to find him reflected there, and his heart had sped up. He couldn’t not come to Garrick’s house, even though night was starting to fall. The late hour and his physical condition be damned. He needed to be here.

  Excited barking greeted him as Garrick opened the door. Cookie acted like Rain had been gone a decade, dancing in circles, practically howling with happy noises and all but climbing him like a tree.

  “You came.” The look in Garrick’s eyes was everything, warmth and tenderness saying he’d made the right choice to come here first. “I got in a couple of hours ago myself. Made a big pot of lentil soup in case you came hungry.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Oh, trust me, I do. I wasn’t even burning energy like you guys in the field and I still ate two dinners—steak at Dad’s and then the soup here. Showered for a good half hour too, but that was a while ago. There’s plenty of hot water if you want to shower while I heat up your soup.”

  “Yeah. That sounds good. Perfect, really. I’ll text Grandma that I’m at your place. Gonna take off my boots right here on the porch.”

  “You do that. I spoke to her earlier myself. I’ll make sure there’s towels in the guest bath for you.”

  “Weird. Feels both like I was just here and like it’s been years,” he admitted as he unlaced his boots in between giving Cookie more pats.

  “I know. Me too. I... I’m
glad you came. So glad.” Garrick’s eyes were full with an emotion Rain couldn’t easily name. He had to look away quickly lest his own gaze give too much away.

  Rain wasn’t sure that warm water had ever felt so good. He soaped up three times simply because he could and washed the dust out of his hair twice before he was willing to get out from under the pounding spray. It took a ton of conditioner just to get his mess of hair to loosen up. When he left the shower, his favorite robe was waiting for him along with a pair of purple satin underwear he’d left at Garrick’s some time back. Seeing them there made his stomach give a happy little flip. He found a wide-tooth comb under the sink and continued working out the tangles in his hair on his way out to the living area.

  “Damn. I feel more human now. Thanks. Feel more like me.” He tightened the belt on his robe.

  “Figured you might be craving something like your robe. I’m not...it’s not some kind of come-on. Promise.”

  “I know. And we’re probably both too bushed, and I know we need to talk, but I’m not sure I’d turn down a come-on. Just saying.” He gave Garrick a wink as he settled at the table in front of a steaming giant bowl of soup.

  “Isn’t this one of your mixing bowls?”

  “Maybe.” Garrick held out a hand as he rolled up behind Rain. “Let me finish your hair while you eat?”

  “Sure.” Rain gave him the comb. They’d done this before, Garrick combing out his curls after a shower, but there was something different about this time, a greater intimacy somehow. Adding to that effect, Garrick was infinitely gentle as he worked on Rain’s hair, working in small sections. His fingers felt so good, even incidental contact on Rain’s neck and scalp, that Rain kept leaning into the contact, like Cookie seeking more pats. Damn. He’d missed this so much.