Rescuing the Rancher

by Claire McEwen

  Jade nodded. “It worked. Even the dog and three cats made it. And a couple of deer, as well.” She realized her words had wiped the smile off her brother’s face. “It’s okay, Travis. I’m fine.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you drive out here all alone.” Mitch shook his head. “I should have had someone else go with you.”

  “Then you would have had two of us stuck out here. And I had Aidan to help me out,” Jade reassured him. “Turns out he’s pretty good at firefighting.”

  Bill looked Aidan up and down. “You ever consider a career change? We can use more folks in these parts.”

  Aidan shook his head. “Nope. Definitely not.”

  “Aidan loves ranching.” Jade nudged the big rancher gently with her elbow, trying to lighten the moment. “Especially his sheep.”

  He grinned down at her then, and she wanted more of the warmth and connection she saw in his eyes. He looked like a different person than she’d met yesterday.

  “It’s a nice ranch,” Travis said. “Sorry about your house, though.”

  Aidan shrugged. “Houses can be rebuilt.”

  Jade wondered at Aidan’s casual tone. But maybe letting the house burn was his way forward. She just hoped it would help. She couldn’t imagine trying to live with the loss of a child.

  She studied him as he looked around at the remains of his ranch, the smoldering ashes of all he’d built. His expression was hard to read. But she thought she detected a lightness about him, as if the fire had brought him some relief. Maybe, like her, he was just grateful to be alive.

  “Let us help you get any hot spots put out,” Travis said to Aidan. “We’ll make sure there’s nothing around that can reignite.” He pointed out to the sheep, still grazing under the mist of the sprinklers. “You did a good thing there.”

  “And the metal roof on your barn.” Mitch pointed toward the eaves. “That was a smart move.”

  Aidan’s gaze met Jade’s for a brief moment. “It was touch and go, but Jade helped me keep it from burning. I’m grateful for her help.”

  Warmth stole over Jade’s chest, not pride, really, but a sense that her being with Aidan during the wildfire had made a difference for him in more ways than one. She may have gone into this career to prove to herself that she could keep up with her brothers, but she’d stayed in it because she wanted to help others. And last night, she had.

  Though that wasn’t all of it. What they’d shared last night, their feelings, that kiss, falling asleep in his arms, it had changed her, too. She’d never let herself lean on anyone like that. And now that she’d started leaning, it was a little lonely to be standing on her own two feet again.

  * * *

  AIDAN DROPPED THE coiled hose on the ground and screwed the end into the spigot that stuck up from the ground near what used to his house. Mitch had instructed him to hose off the smoking pile to ensure it was well and truly out.

  Ever since they’d woken up, Aidan had been trying to decide how he felt about his house being gone. Last night, facing the choice of what to save, choosing the barn had been a no-brainer. But now he felt the loss of the old farmhouse. Even though the floor sloped on the disintegrating foundation, the windows let in the cold and the termites had been munching on the place for a century, he and Sheila had fallen in love with it. It had been their home, until Colby had died and Sheila left. Then it had become something else. A monument to loss. A collection of memories.

  Aidan sprayed the hose onto the tangle of charred timbers and melted appliances, watching the steam rise from the ruin with a morose satisfaction. He’d been right to let it burn. Cultures all around the world used fire to release a soul to heaven. He was releasing the soul of this house, the wan ghost of all his old hopes. Maybe in these ashes he could find something new to live for.

  He moved slowly around the pile, searching for sadness or regret amongst the wreckage and finding none. Just a quiet acceptance. Toward the back of the house, he stopped in his tracks, stunned by what he saw.

  A California poppy had survived in Colby’s flower bed. Aidan dropped the hose and knelt in the ashes to marvel at the delicate veined petals, glowing orange in the soot-tinged air.

  “Hi.” Jade’s voice startled him out of his reverie.

  He turned his head to look at her and she caught sight of the flower. “What? How is that even possible?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice went gruff and he cleared his throat.

  She dropped to her knees next to him and brushed the edge of one vivid petal carefully with the tip of her finger. “It’s amazing how fire sometimes skips just one small thing.”

  His eyes stung and it wasn’t the smoke. He tried to blink back the tears that rose.

  “This garden is special to you, isn’t it?” Jade put a gentle hand on his arm.

  “It was Colby’s sandbox.” Aidan brought the heel of his hand up to shove the tears back in his eyes. “I made it into a garden, as a way to remember him.”

  “Oh, Aidan.” The sympathy in her voice didn’t help him get his own emotion under control. “I’m so sorry for all you’ve been through.”

  He stared at the poppy, breathing in the strange relief this one simple flower offered. The poppy seemed to look back at him, proud, bright and defiant. “I’m sorry, too,” he finally said. “But maybe it’s time I started to be more than sorry.”

  “This poppy—” her voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper “—it feels like a sign. And I don’t really believe in that kind of stuff.”

  He felt it, too. An easing in his chest. Forgiveness, maybe, from Colby, from God, or from himself—he couldn’t know which. “I hope so,” he said. “I could use a sign.”

  She rose to her feet and so did he, brushing the ash and mud off his crusted jeans. She looked up at him with a softness in her deep brown eyes. “Mitch, Travis and Bill are getting restless. We put out any hot spots we could find, so I think your part of this fire is officially out.”

  That was great to hear. When he looked south, he could see that the smoke was still thick there, the fire was still going strong. But he was out of danger now. “I can’t believe we did it.”

  Her smile was almost shy. “I can’t believe we did either. We got lucky, you know.”

  He couldn’t let her go without trying to tell her how he felt. “You were my luck. I wouldn’t have known what to do without you.”

  She put a hand on his forearm. “We did it together.” They looked at each other for a long moment and Aidan felt that pull again, the bone-deep need to hold her in his arms. Soot-stained and weary, she was still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

  “I have to leave.”

  “Where will you go?” He hadn’t thought about her leaving. He had been dazed all morning, trying to take in all the loss and gratitude, and it had kept him firmly in the present moment.

  “Back to our base in Ukiah to get changed. We’ll get that poor bobcat to the emergency vet there, too. Do you want me to take Chip, as well?”

  “I’ll take him down to Willits. He knows the vet there, so he’ll be more comfortable.”

  “That vet may have evacuated.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. How the whole map of his little world out here on the north coast was altered, at least temporarily. “Then I’ll get him to Ukiah. I don’t want to send him off alone, though I appreciate the offer.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She looked at him, then over at the smoke in the southern distance. “After Ukiah, we’ll head out to the fire line. We’ve got to keep fighting. It’s heading toward my town now. Though no way are we going to let it get as far as Shelter Creek.”

  “I appreciate that. My cattle are sheltering there.” He wanted to say more. About how much he admired her strength, confidence and skill. About how it had felt, holding her in his arms. But how could he say those things? He’d known her
less than a day. Yet they’d shared more with each other in that day than he’d shared with anyone in years.

  Which just meant he was a hermit, not that they had some special connection. He couldn’t let his years of isolation fool him into reading too much into one embrace, or a kiss that had been more about sheer relief than anything else.

  “I’ll walk you back to the truck.” He took one last look at the miraculous poppy and fell into step beside her, conscious of her small stature next to him, her lithe athletic build reminding him of how she’d fit so perfectly in his arms as they’d slept.

  “What are you going to do now?” Jade bumped his arm gently with her shoulder as they walked down the hill toward the barn.

  “Walk around my property a little. Assure myself that there really is no more fire. Then head into town to get Chip help and grab a meal, a shower and some sleep.”

  “And after that?”

  Aidan shrugged, not sure how to look so far ahead. “Rebuild, I guess.”

  “You still want to stay out here? On your own?”

  “I can’t imagine leaving this place. I love this land. I did from the moment I came here. The first time I saw these rolling hills I knew this was where I was meant to be.” The land was almost unrecognizable now in shades of black and gray, with smoke still dimming his view of the surrounding hills. He felt burned-out himself. Hollow after last night’s emotions and fears.

  They’d reached the barn now. Mitch, Travis and Bill were standing around their truck. Jade’s truck was there, too. They must have used a winch to get it out of the mud. The crate with the bobcat in it was strapped in the back, a blanket covering it.

  Jade turned to Aidan. “I said goodbye to Elliott. I felt really sad about leaving him. Can you believe it?” She held up her arms, still scratched from wrist to elbow.

  Aidan smiled at her devotion to a cat who clearly hated her. “At least you have a souvenir of your dysfunctional relationship.”

  “Ha. Will you hang on to him until his owners get back? Or I’m sure there’s a shelter in Ukiah that will take care of him, if that’s easier.”

  “I’ll figure out something. He’ll probably be happier with me. Maybe he can come to the motel.”

  “That family seemed to love that cat. I’ll bet they come back soon.”

  “I assume so. But no matter what, I’ll take care of Elliott. You don’t need to worry about him anymore. You’ve got a fire to stop.” He hated the idea of her back out there, pitting herself against that wildfire yet again. But that was her work. Her life. Her choice.

  She sighed. “Yeah. Thankfully, the wind has died way down. Can you feel that?” She raises a few fingers to test it.

  She was right. With all the trees and bushes gone, Aidan hadn’t noticed before, but the wind wasn’t pulling at his clothes or tugging at his hair. The air was finally still.

  Jade went on. “I think we have a chance at containing it in the next few days.”

  “If anyone can put it out, you can. I’ve seen your skills.”

  She smiled faintly. “I hope so.” She glanced at her waiting crew, then back at him. “You take good care now.”

  He didn’t want her to go. The knowledge hit him in the stomach and ached in his chest. It made no sense. Of course, she had to go. She was a firefighter caught here by chance. Not his friend. Not meant for him. “You, too, Jade. Thanks for everything.”

  She put her arms around his neck and he hugged her back, cherishing the feel of her close to him. “Maybe we’ll make that dinner some time,” she said quietly as she pulled away. “Spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “That would be great.” Aidan manufactured a smile. He was sleep-deprived, adrenaline-crashed. He’d feel better once he got some food and rest. Plus, there was nothing to do but accept that she had to leave. “Good luck.”

  “If you’re ever in Shelter Creek, stop by the fire station. If I’m not there, they’ll know where to find me.”

  “Will do.”

  Jade started toward her truck and then paused. Turned. Ran back and gave Aidan another hug, pressing her head to his chest while he tried to memorize the feeling of her in his arms. Then she looked up at him with the calm gaze that had helped him keep his own fears in check last night. “I hope you can try to let go of the past a little now. You’ve been given another chance to live, Aidan. We both have. Let’s make it count.”

  He pulled her close again and brushed his lips across the top of her head, then reluctantly let her slide out of his arms. He couldn’t promise her that. Or anything. The future felt blank and foreign. He was still in shock that he was here at all. “Thanks, Jade, for everything.”

  He followed her to the trucks and shook hands with Mitch and Bill. Bill got into the cab but Mitch hesitated. “We’ve got the bobcat,” he said. “We’ll figure out a way to get your crate back to you once we get it to a vet.”

  “Take your time,” Aidan told him. “I’m just glad it will get some help soon. I hope it makes it.”

  “Me, too.” Mitch put a big hand on Aidan’s shoulder. “You did a good thing rescuing it. And an even better thing, helping Jade get through this.” He seemed to want to say more, but cleared his throat instead. He gave Aidan’s shoulder a final squeeze and went to the truck.

  Travis had been talking quietly to Jade, but now he approached Aidan and shook his hand. “Thanks for looking out for my sister,” he said.

  Aidan smiled despite the way his heart hung heavy in his chest. “I think it was the other way around. She kept us safe. She’s a heck of a firefighter.”

  Travis grinned. “It’s in our blood. Take care, Aidan.” He held out a hand to Jade. “Are you ready?”

  “I guess so.” She gave Aidan a brief wave. “Stay in touch. Let me know how you’re doing.”

  “Likewise.” He wanted to say more but there was no way to articulate the thoughts racing in his head. Especially when they all seemed to coalesce into two words. Don’t go.

  Jade followed Travis to her truck and Aidan watched in amusement as she tried to wrest the keys from her brother. Travis must have known the right words to defuse his sister’s independent streak, because she hobbled around to the passenger’s side, glaring at him while he laughed at her. Then Travis started the engine and they were off, bumping slowly up the lane, now a gray gravel strip in a black landscape.

  Aidan peered into the back of Mitch’s truck, where the bobcat was curled in a ragged ball in the corner of the big crate. “Good luck,” he whispered. “Heal well. Be safe.” Then Mitch started the engine, and with a final wave out the window, followed Travis and Jade away from the barn.

  Aidan watched the trucks until they disappeared over the hill, heading for the road out, inexplicable loss heavy in his chest. The sound of their wheels faded out and the quiet that followed was as thick as fire smoke. Strange how it was even hard to breathe, now that Jade was gone.

  He was just tired. He needed to get himself together. There was still plenty of work to do. Aidan headed for the barn, inhaling the comforting smell of horse and hay, proving to himself that he could breathe just fine. “Hey, Chip.” He poked his head over the stall door where the cattle dog lay, head on his paws, so mad at Aidan for locking him in here again that he didn’t even lift his head. He just rolled his eyes up and glared at him, as if he still couldn’t believe his master’s betrayal.

  Aidan went into the stall and sat down next to the dog, keeping his body alongside Chip’s so he wasn’t forcing the dog to make contact. “Hey, buddy, I know you’re mad at me. But the ground burned your paws last night. This was the safest place for you today, until things cooled down.”

  Chip pricked up his ears but kept his head down. Aidan rubbed Chip under the collar. “You’re a great dog and I know you only wanted to help. But this fire was something you couldn’t help with. It was bigger than anything you or I have ever experienced
before.”

  The dog sat up, looked toward the stall door and whined.

  “Oh, buddy.” Aidan rubbed his dog’s ears. “You want Jade, don’t you? She’s gone. She was only passing through.” He sighed and brought his forehead to Chip’s. “We’re both going to miss her, aren’t we?”

  Chip raised a paw and put it on Aidan’s arm, as if he understood the hollow feeling in Aidan’s chest.

  Aidan carefully took the paw and leaned down to peer at the pad. It was hard to tell how badly it was burned. “The fire is all out now. Let’s go wash these again and see what we’re dealing with, okay?” He unhooked the chain from Chip’s collar. Then he carried his dog out of the barn to tend to his paws.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AIDAN TRAINED THE hose on a clump of charred bushes that was smoldering suspiciously. He was uphill from the barn, making sure the fire was definitely out. They’d fought so hard to save this one structure, no way would he lose it now out of negligence. It was only late morning but it was hot and dry, and the wind had picked up again, tossing ash around like confetti. Wiping a gritty forearm across his eyes, Aidan looked out across his ranch.

  Black, gray and green. The colors of his new reality. Black twisted trees, gray fields, the black-and-gray ash pile of his former home. The one green pasture was a small, defiant oasis of life. Even the sheep were gray, their wool covered in ash and soot. Most of them were lying down, chewing cud, resting from their stressful night. Aidan had checked on them again a while ago and, miraculously, none of them seemed injured. Payday had one small, singed patch on his hindquarter from an ember, but it seemed minor. When Aidan put salve on it, the big horse didn’t even wince.

  Jade and the other firefighters had been gone for a couple hours, but it felt longer. Aidan knew he should go to town, get a motel room, find some food and have a shower. But his land’s survival and his own had tangled together during the fire. He’d only worry if he left now, before he was sure that every last spark was out.