Jade set it down next to her. “Probably not.”
He’d tied the bandanna on and he looked like a tall, dusty, tired bandit. His gaze flicked to the sky behind her. The orange glow was brighter, the fire was closer. Ash was all around them, and the air felt warmer.
“Things are going to get ugly soon, aren’t they?”
Jade looked back at Aidan and tried to read the expression in his eyes. They were blue, red-rimmed from smoke, but gave away nothing else but the same deep weariness she’d sensed since they met. “It is. But listen to me. If we work together, communicate constantly and don’t get separated, we can do this. Okay?”
He nodded. “Just tell me what you need.”
“Will you go turn the water on for this hose? I’m going to haul it farther up the road.”
He turned and jogged back to the house. Jade picked up the drip torch with her free hand, and hauled the hose up the driveway until she was at the firebreak they’d tried to widen earlier. Again, she wished the plowed area was wider, but it would have to do. She felt the hose jerk as the water pressure arrived and she compressed the nozzle, spraying the firebreak, wetting down the scraped earth and the grass on the near side of it.
Her progress was achingly slow. She needed more hoses, a crew of firefighters. A small voice in her head whispered that this was futile. She stamped it out like an ember. She couldn’t let thoughts like that have airtime or they’d grow just like the fire.
Aidan emerged from the thick air like a gray ghost. Visibility was going down by the minute. “What’s the plan?”
The fire was getting louder, a steady, distant roar. Jade had to raise her voice to be head above the sound. “We’re going to set a fire on the far side of this firebreak.”
Aidan stopped in his tracks. “You’re going to light my ranch on fire? I thought that’s what we’re trying to prevent.”
“It is.” Jade pointed to the grass and bushes that covered the ground between the firebreak and the trees. “If we can burn this before the fire gets here, we deprive it of fuel. Then it might burn off to the sides, and spare the buildings on your ranch.”
“The wind, though. How will we keep the flames from blowing back onto us?”
“Water. Plus I’m hoping the wind will die as night falls.”
He gaped at her. “You’re hoping?”
Hope was all she had. “It’s worth the risk. Setting a backfire can buy us extra time.”
It was a gamble. But it was all they had. Jade waited, giving him time to think. After a moment he held out his hand. “Okay then.”
Jade handed him the hose and tried to sound more confident than she felt. “Spray the firebreak as far as you can on either side of the driveway.”
He hesitated. “Are you sure about this?”
She wasn’t sure about anything. “Do you hear that noise? That’s the fire bearing down on us like a truck with no brakes. Think of a backfire as one of those runaway-truck ramps you see on steep freeways. It’s not an ideal solution, but it just might slow it down.”
Aidan nodded. Her analogy seemed to have worked, because he walked a few steps away and started spraying an area of the firebreak she hadn’t gotten to yet.
Heart thudding hard against her sternum, Jade crossed the firebreak and headed a few yards past the perimeter fence, putting Aidan’s ranch behind her. Then she pulled a flare from her belt. Carefully, she tugged off the cap, yanked the tab and hit the flare on the strike plate. With a hiss, it ignited. Using all the desperate energy she had, she chucked the flare as hard as she could toward the fire. It landed somewhere in the distant brush near where the first oak trees rose up.
Good, but not good enough.
“No offense, but I think I might have a stronger arm.” Aidan had dragged the hose up behind her. He must have forgiven her for lighting his ranch on fire, because a slight smile tugged at his mouth when she raised her brows at him.
“Really?” The teasing helped calm her nerves a little. “You know you’re talking to the captain of the Shelter Creek Hot Shots softball team. And pull your bandanna up.”
He ignored her, of course. “How does that compare with college baseball?”
She took the hose and handed him a flare. “Let’s find out. Just aim right into the trees, as far as you can off to the right a little.” She understood the grimace on his face. “I know. They’re beautiful, but they’re going to burn anyway. This way they’ll burn to save your ranch.”
He nodded and pulled the cap off the flare. He hesitated for a moment, squinting into the smoke-shrouded landscape in front of them.
“Those pines over there look stressed from drought.” Jade pointed to the scraggly stand. “They’re like kindling. I’d aim there.”
Aidan lit the flare, brought his arm back and his leg up like a pitcher, and sent the flare flying into the pines. A direct hit. He glanced at her, a vaguely disappointed expression on his face. “It’s not working.”
“It will. Just be patient.” She pointed to where she’d thrown hers. A thin column of smoke was rising. “Mine’s just getting started now. She handed him her third and last flare. “Try this one, off to the left a bit.”
He grinned suddenly, surprisingly, his teeth white in his ash-dusted face. “Aha. So you’re admitting I throw a little better than you?”
“I’m admitting that you’re a whole lot taller than me. You have more leverage.”
He laughed a little wildly and chucked the flare so it arced off to the left, sailing an impossible distance before it landed somewhere behind a thicket of scrubby oak. “Leverage. That’s what it is, huh? I was thinking maybe it was talent?”
Jade had to laugh, too. It was a relief to have this cocky sportsman in front of her instead of the broken man she’d found in the house a while ago. “Okay, so if you ever move to Shelter Creek, I might let you on my softball team.”
He peered through the smoky air. “What do we do now?”
“Hope they all catch. And you’re going to move back a little and keep hosing down everything within reach on the ranch side of the firebreak. I’m going to take this drip torch and go light some more fires. The faster we get this area burning, the better.”
“What happens if the main fire gets here before all this stuff burns down?”
“We’ll have a really big fire on our hands.” Jade put a hand on his arm. “Don’t stress, okay? Let’s just take this a step at a time.”
“I’m not stressed,” he muttered.
“Right.” She couldn’t help smiling at his grumpy, macho streak. Maybe after being caught in such a vulnerable moment in the house, he was trying to put his protective shell back on. But it was too late. She’d seen through the cracks in his crusty facade. And, as much as she hated to think that he might have lost a child, she could see now that this tough, independent rancher was actually a vulnerable person underneath. It certainly made her understand why he didn’t want to let anybody else in. If he carried that kind of pain inside, it must be easier to keep all emotions at bay.
Nothing like a fire to keep things real, her boss, Mitch, always said. She sent a silent plea to him, her mentor, that she was doing the right thing. Then she walked up the driveway, toward the fires they’d set. The flares were a start, but she needed to help things along.
Several yards past the boundary fence of the property, she turned off to the right and headed into the woods. Scrubby oaks, stunted from drought and heat, survived here surrounded by brambles and brush. Jade pushed her way through prickly leaves and thorny blackberry tendrils that grabbed at her pant legs. She kept going until she was pretty sure she was farther away from the driveway than Aidan’s barn was. Only then did she hold her drip torch to some tangled stems of shriveled bracken. It only took a moment for the flaming fuel to set it alight.
Jade quickly retraced her steps back to the driveway, setting
fires as she went. Strangely, there was something satisfying about the sizzle of ignition and the first small flames that leaped to life. Maybe all firefighters were part pyromaniac. Maybe you had to be fascinated by fire to spend your life trying to understand it, and risking your safety to stop it.
She crossed the gravel driveway and plunged into the wood on the other side. Holding her drip torch up, she jogged through the woods, dodging brambles, ducking under tree branches. She needed to get far enough away from Aidan’s house, his propane tank and his irrigated pasture full of sheep. Once she was pretty sure she had the distance she needed, she peeked through the trees, trying to make sure she hadn’t gone beyond Aidan’s firebreak. The churned up ground was visible through the branches and the wire fence, so she ducked back into the woods and started setting things alight. She had plenty of help. The flares they’d thrown out earlier were bright blazes now, sending out embers to start new fires that climbed the oaks and claimed the shrubs.
A small cottontail rabbit raced by her and Jade whispered an apology. Though maybe she was saving its life by getting it out of here before the main fire arrived.
Jade jogged back to the driveway, starting fires along the way but making sure she stayed ahead of the flames. When she reached the driveway she made a dash back to Aidan, arriving just as he threw down the hose and started toward her.
He grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her against him for a brief instant. “I thought I was going to lose you in there. It’s really starting to burn.”
Jade’s skin felt hot as she pulled away, though it could be from her dash out of the flames. “Welcome to the world of firefighting. There’s always some excitement happening somewhere.” She took the hose from him to cover her confusion over the oddly sweet comfort she’d felt in his arms.
She pulled the hose off to the left of the driveway and trained the spray on the grass at the edge of the firebreak. “With the wind direction, I suspect this is where the fire might jump, if it’s going to jump anywhere. Let’s really soak it.” Watching the flames leap and grow on the other side of the boundary fence, her heart picked up speed. “Did you grab those backpack pumps? Why don’t you go fill them up? We might get some embers coming over soon. We have to be ready to put out any spot fires.”
“Okay. I’ll take the truck and be back as soon as possible. Stay safe.”
“You, too.” He turned to go but she called him back. “Aidan? Keep your eyes open. The main fire might seem like it’s far away but it could show up almost anywhere, at any time.”
He nodded and got into the truck. When he drove down the driveway, the truck disappeared almost instantly into the thick, sludgy air.
Jade listened to the hiss and crackle of the nearby flames, and the growl of the wildfire rumbling her way. Everything was taking on a surreal quality—the darkening sky, the thick, smoky air, this ranch where a lonely man had been hiding out with a heart full of pain.
Was it possible that she’d ended up here for a reason? Because even without the threat of fire, Aidan seemed like a guy in need of a rescue.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AIDAN HEAVED THE full backpack pumps back into the truck bed. He’d filled them at the faucet behind his house, which had given him one last chance to say goodbye to Colby’s garden. Now, driving back up the driveway to where Jade had set the backfire, he felt like he was driving toward hell. In the ten minutes it had taken to fill the pumps, the fire they’d set had grown into a twenty-foot wall of flame, devouring everything on the other side of the firebreak. It was almost dark out now, an eerie dusk where the silhouettes of trees stood out stark and black against the vivid orange flames just before they were consumed.
The unreal quality of it was disconcerting. This was still his ranch. There, through the darkening haze, was his house, and the spot on the front porch where Chip loved to sleep in the morning sun. There was the firepit he’d built back when fire had been a comforting, fun thing to have around. But the smoke blurred all the outlines and changed all the colors. Everything seemed like a troubled dream where familiar things looked inexplicably different and were no longer his to keep.
Aidan’s pulse thrummed with the uncertainty of it all, but when he pulled the truck up next to Jade, she looked as calm as if she were watering her garden on a Sunday afternoon. Details had disappeared with the glare of the fire behind her. She was a black form, a shadow puppet. “Glad you could make it,” she called. “The party’s just getting started around here.”
He got it. She was trying to keep him at ease in a terrifying situation. So he’d try to do the same for her. “I don’t remember getting my invitation to this particular party.” He had to shout over all the noise. Crackling, hissing, snapping and always that roar from the main wildfire, even louder than before.
Her bandanna hid most of her face, but he could see relief in her eyes. After his near meltdown in Colby’s room, she was probably glad he was holding it together. “I think this party has mandatory attendance.” She came closer to eye what he’d brought in the truck. “Why don’t you put on one of those pumps and take a walk along the firebreak? Make sure there are no embers getting started on this side.”
Aidan went around to the truck bed and wrestled the pump away from the tools stacked next to it. It was basically a big sack filled with water that he could wear on his back. He staggered a little as he got the straps situated. Five gallons of water was an awkward load. He arranged the hose and took the nozzle in hand. “Maybe bring a pickax, too,” Jade called. “If you have a chance to put embers out with dirt, go for it. That way you’ll conserve the water in your pump.”
His pump was on his back, he had the pickax, but it was hard to walk away from her. Aidan knew Jade didn’t need his protection. She was far more competent in this fire than he was. But she was a petite woman and she looked even smaller against the towering flames. He didn’t want her hurt on his land. On his watch.
But that was his ego talking. She was the one saving the day here. If she hadn’t shown up, there’d be no backfire and, thus, no way to send the fire around his ranch. It would just be him, hosing things down and waiting for the full strength of the fire to crash over him.
Despite the heat, a chill ran over his skin at the thought. He’d always assumed he could handle everything on his own. It was easy to see how wrong he’d been.
Strange that ever since Colby died he’d thought he wanted to die, too. Some days he’d even thought up ways to make it happen. But faced with it now, his whole self reared up with a resounding no. Not because he was looking forward to some bright future. More because Jade’s life was at stake. And innocent animals’ lives were at stake. Or maybe it was just that his competitive streak had kicked in and he wouldn’t let this fire win.
The flames across the firebreak were alive and hungry, jumping quickly from bush to tree, gobbling up grass, belching flames ten, twenty, even thirty feet in the air. It was tempting to aim the hose on them, just to feel like he was in some kind of control, but thanks to Jade he knew better. They wanted that area to burn, so he had to let it be and focus on this near side of the firebreak. Aidan stomped through the dry grass alongside the plowed strip of land, looking for sparks, smoke, any hint that the fire had jumped the break. Nothing. That was good news.
The wind was picking up, and it was different now. Not the steady blowing that had brought the fire closer to them all day, but disorganized gusts that twisted and turned. It sent sparks shooting up in the air. The wind caught an ember and flung it over Aidan’s head. He turned, trying to see where it landed, but there were bushes behind him, it was almost dark. He should grab one of the headlamps he’d thrown into Jade’s truck. He usually wore them when he had to go out at night and check on the livestock. They’d come in handy now.
He started toward the truck, but then he saw it. The tiny flame sputtering where he’d last seen that ember. His heart jolted. This was it. His f
irst spot fire. Even though it was barely more than a single flame, his pulse pounded in his temples. He needed to stay calm. There’d be a lot more of these before the night was over.
Aidan walked quickly toward the flame. It caught onto the grass around it, doubling in size almost immediately. Now it was the size of a campfire. Now it was double that. He opened the valve on his pump and sprayed until it sizzled out. Then he stomped on where it had ignited to be sure it was gone. Steam rose up, infused with charcoal, making his eyes water even more.
“Aidan, behind you!”
He turned at the sound of Jade’s voice, and there was another flame fluttering to life where another ember had landed. He flipped on the nozzle of his pump and doused it. Something bright landed just to the right of him. Instantly the dry grass flared up. He was going to run out of water soon if he wasn’t careful. He shouldered his pickax and brought it down hard, breaking the soil up around the flames, and tossed the dirt on to smother them. Hack and toss, hack and toss. Sweat slicked his forehead, but finally he had the fire out.
He glanced around. The gusts of wind seemed to have quieted, at least for a moment. It was a deceptive lull, the crouch of a big cat before it leaped on its prey. He jogged to where Jade was using her ax to bury another flame closer to the driveway.
“What’s the plan?” He hated that he needed reassurance. That he was totally out of his comfort zone right here on his own ranch.
Jade threw more dirt onto the fire and stomped on it with her boot. “Out, damned spot.”
He gaped at her. “You’re quoting Shakespeare? Now?”
She gestured at the wall of flame twenty yards away from them. “Is there a better time?”
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