by Jana Leigh
“She will understand,” Jeb said. “Besides, with you so close I can take you out to dinner and get you familiar with the area. I love Steamboat, the hot springs are amazing on these sore old bones.”
Soja chuckled. “Not sure about that, Jeb, it is still winter.”
“Lazing out under the stars with a light dusting of snow is heaven,” Jeb argued and she laughed.
“Okay, I will keep an open mind,” Soja said and then she paused. Jeb had been very nice to her over the last few months; she had even begun to feel a slight bit of attraction, which she had known was always there, but never acted upon. Who wouldn’t, Jeb was just as built as Stryker had been.
The men had been best friends, and Soja had been friends with Jeb’s wife, but they were both gone, and neither would want them to sit around and not live their life. They both knew it and had talked about it often. But moving from the home she shared with her husband was still a huge life change, and she shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.
She just wasn’t sure she was ready, or that he was hinting about anything, that is until the next statement came out of his mouth.
“Do that,” Jeb said and chuckled. “Plus at dark it is clothing optional and no kids allowed, so that is when I like to go.”
“Oh my,” Soja said and stared at the table in front of her. That was not subtle, she thought, then kinda grinned. Was she ready for this?
When she put down the phone, Soja smiled and looked around the room and figured even if she wasn’t, Stryker was pushing her from the grave. He had made her promise if something happened to him that she would always live her life to the fullest. So, adventure, here I come, she thought and stood with her phone in her hand. She was moving to Colorado.
Chapter Two
It had been a hell of a week, men and a few women gathered in town for the annual training to become designated as Hotshots, otherwise known as the best, most elite, wildfire firefighters in the world. They would be put through some of the most rigorous training known to any profession.
As an interagency resource, hotshot crews can be requested to respond to wild land fire incidents in any jurisdiction. As of 2009, there are 107 IHCs in operation in the United States, organized by diverse agencies such as the United States Forest Service, National Park Service, Bureau of Indian Affairs, Bureau of Land Management, as well as state, county, and city governments. Their crew was owned and operated by a retired and extensively qualified firefighter who applied for grants to help the sometimes underfunded government agencies. The National Interagency Fire Center in Boise, Idaho coordinates hotshot crews on the national level.
Hotshot crews trace their history to Southern California in the late 1940s on the Cleveland and Angeles National Forest. The term "hotshot" comes from their having been assigned to the hottest parts of the fire.
While not fighting fires, hotshot crews typically work in their home units to meet resource goals such as thinning, prescribed fire operations, habitat improvement, and trail construction projects. Hotshot crews can also respond to other emergency incidents, including search and rescue, and disaster response.
Nixon Cayson watched the newbies being put through their paces and shook his head as his friend, Trystan Turner, laughed aloud. The two of them and a bare handful of the others had trained in terrain like this and worse over the years, so they kept in shape during the off-season.
He had to admit seeing grown men, who were by all normal standards in excellent shape, strain to stay on their feet while climbing a short hill of unstable rocks was funny, in their profession, the skill was absolutely necessary due to the terrain they would be dispatched to at any given moment.
There were twenty-five trainees on this side of the mountain in the foothills of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains. One thing that was still hard to accept was the fact there were three women in this group, and so far, two of the three seemed determined to pass the training with little or no problem.
The third woman would be gone from this program by the end of today. Being pretty and endowed with large breasts would only go so far in this line of work. She spent more time smiling and flirting with the men than actually attempting to pass today’s training course. She was slowing her partners down and she had even been reprimanded by the instructor about trying to gain enough sympathy from the others so they would carry her gear.
Nix knew one of the trainees was a pilot, and she was not hard to look at. Jezebel aka Jez Siomne was a tough little cookie, and she’d impressed him with her no nonsense attitude during the meeting held last night. He’d met her father several times over the past years, and knew where the scar on her jawline came from. Her father had been none other than Stryker, one of the most daring and effective pilots in the history of wildfire fighters.
Knowing her father’s name still carried a lot of weight in the field helped bring her into the training. Now it would be up to her to pass or fail. So far, it appeared to him that she would succeed.
The other woman’s name was Keely Billings and she made no secret of the fact she wasn’t here to find a husband. She had a wicked sense of humor, and she was built along the lines of female athletes that took running seriously.
The women were separated from each other in the buddy training groups and Jez and her assigned buddy, Grayson Vaughn, reached the end stage not long after Nixon and Trys got to the top of the rolling rocky hillside.
It was almost an hour later by the time “Barbie” and her disgusted teammate joined them with the teammate carrying her pack.
Jeb Tillman was shaking his head. He and Corbin Hilliard, the agencies’ contractor, were the training staff that had to make sure the people they took into dangerous wildfires and emergency situations were the best of the best.
Corbin stood from his crouched position and announced they would rest for another five minutes, “By then it should be close enough to dusk.” He allowed sarcasm to drip from his next sentence, and looked at the woman who caused such a fuss. “By the time some of you get back down this little hill it will be dark, so keep an eye on where you step. Rattlers are known to slip onto the rocks at dark to absorb the residual heat. You don’t want to get snake bitten today, the helio pilot is on the hoof with the rest of us.”
There were groans, but most were laughing sounds, and Corbin signaled for “Barbie’s” buddy, a man they called Bridger, over to him. “Hand the lady her pack, and take that five, you did good getting her ass up the hillside.”
The lady was rubbing her calf and complaining about the way Bridger had, “Practically towed me up this unstable hill.” When Bridger dropped her pack next to her and kept walking past, she looked around for the next patsy, but any man near had turned his back.
Jeb looked at his longtime friend and laughed, “I bet that boy ain’t so tickled and bragging about being the one chosen to escort her loveliness for the day, tonight will he? What do you think?”
Nix was close enough to hear the comment and turned his head to hide the amusement he knew would be showing on his face. He saw Trys chatting up Jezebel, and closed his eyes for a moment. That handsome fucker moved fast when there was a pretty woman around, and no mistake—Jez was a very pretty woman.
He wondered what she’d say if she found out Trystan and Gray were sometimes lovers. The good-looking Front Line man was running buddies with the Lieutenant. They had been sharing women and each other for a couple of years that Nix knew about.
He gathered his pack and started to head down the hill. What the men did in their spare time wasn’t his business, and if he admitted the truth to himself, he was a little jealous. He wasn’t inclined toward bi-sexuality. He’d thought about it, sure, he had even participated with them from time to time when they brought in an insatiable woman that wanted to experience a man in each hole at once. The first time he’d been called into the room by Trys, he laughed when he saw what they wanted. He’d let the woman stifle her screams on his cock, and ended up thoroughly enjoying himself.
It had be
come routine for them to call on him to “help them” satisfy a demanding partner, and soon enough they all acknowledged the foursomes were a favorite practice for the men to indulge their appetites. Many hours had been spent speculating about the type of woman that would become involved with the three of them on a permanent basis. So far, no one had fascinated all three men for more than the time it took to fuck her. A few had come back for seconds and even thirds, but none of the women they’d enjoyed met the three men’s criteria. A few had been close, but they had not been the one for all of them to make a commitment with.
Trys caught up with him before he’d gone ten feet down the sliding rock, and they laughed at the graceless skidding they had to do to stay upright.
Trys told him about the short scene he’d missed by leaving too soon. “Hell, man, you should’ve heard Ol’ Corbin telling Barbie to shoulder her pack. He’s making her go down with him and Jeb. We need to get to the bottom of this little rise so we can catch sight of the poor little woman struggling to carry her own pack downhill. ‘Cause, man, you know Ol’ Corbin ain’t gonna let her get around the rules.”
The sound of sliding stones off to their left was accompanied by a man’s curses, as he rolled down the hill several feet before coming to a sprawling stop. Within minutes, another man’s short curse was heard as the twenty-seven people traversed the unstable ground.
The two of them made it to the staging area and propped themselves on the fender of the transport truck while they waited on the rest to make their way down. The trees surrounding the training hill blocked out light, and the stars were beginning to shine brighter with each passing minute. The moon was just a sliver of light in the sky and the wind picked up blowing still chilly air over the people coming down the hill.
Trys pointed out the three figures that were barely visible still halfway down the hill and shook his head. “I’ve got five that says Jeb gets fed up and drags her and the pack down the hard way.”
Nix shook his head, “I don’t take a sucker’s bet, man, and I remember the last Barbie that found a way to get into the program. Corbin was so pissed they camped on the hill for the night and when the wolves started singing she was screaming bloody fuckin’ murder. Corbin had the keys to the truck, so we all got to stay the night over by the old drop zone. That was a damned cold rainy night. Jeb was so pissed that Barbie ended up climbing over the rocks instead of letting her walk down the path. Corbin joined us that morning while she cried and whined her way down the damn hill. Three days later, we found out she was a reporter and had joined the program to get a first hand account of the training. She isn’t a fan you might say.”
Trys chuckled, “I remember the article. She tried to say the training was harder on females than the males and geared to keep the women from entering into the program, stupid shit, man. More and more women are joining, they do a damn good job too.”
Nix knew the next sentence would involve the two females that were doing an excellent job of keeping up and even surpassing some of the men. Trys lived to admire and be admired, women found the dark haired, blue-eyed, six foot three inch tall man a sexy challenge, and he fostered the reputation. His estimation was correct.
“So what do you think of the two women in the group, Jez and Keely? That Jez, now she could make a man sweat. Damn shame about Keely, she has the kind of legs that would pull a man in until she was ready to let him go. Jez and Gray are getting on like crazy. I’m hoping she has an open mind, if you get my drift.”
Nix was watching the women in question drop their packs and reach for their water supplies to quench their thirsts. With the full gear and packs, it was easy to become dehydrated, and he was happy to see the women taking care of themselves without someone having to tell them. He could see exactly what Trys was talking about.
Keely was long-legged and strong enough to keep up with, Gaige, her partner. Since the man was a machine in the field, that wasn’t an easy thing to do. She should make a good team member. Only time would be the real test, but his initial assessment was favorable.
Jez, well she was determined if nothing else. He already knew she had guts and flying in her blood. She was also Jeb’s goddaughter. Her old man was the yardstick that she measured all men by, and Nix felt sorry for any man trying to impress her.
He should know, there was no way to compete with a legend, he’d been there done that, and came away from the attempt wiser for the experience. A man can only be what he was, faults and all. Ghosts took on super powers to those that hung onto the memory of the real life man, and anyone who tried to compete was doomed to begin with.
He hoped she herself wasn’t competing with the legend. Stryker had been a seasoned veteran, and he knew the risks he took were sometimes sketchy. He was also the one who taught her to fly. If she planned to take the same kinds of risks, they would have a real problem.
Trys was waiting for his answer with a frown, so he shrugged and said what he’d been thinking, “I like the way the women are taking on training, as for Jez and her open mind, I’d be careful if I were you. Unless I miss my guess, she’s competing, measuring up to be the kind of pilot as her old man was. Open mind or not, my best advice is take it slow. You’re going to do what the hell your cock tells you to do, but you might want to ignore the fucker until you know her better.”
Nix walked away with a wave to his friend. He felt like busting someone’s balls, and Jeb looked like a good candidate to torment since he was still stomping two-thirds of the way down the hill with Barbie twenty feet behind him. Corbin was already at the base with several people talking and bullshitting.
Gray called him over to where he was standing with the two women, and effectively waylaid his intention of giving Jeb a little hell.
Jez was laughing at something Keely was saying, and he wanted to smile just from seeing her merriment. She had an infectious smile that was for damn sure. That laugh tickled the base of his spine, and his hand was reaching back to brush it before he realized what he was doing. Fuck, this shouldn’t be happening. Nothing good could come from his attraction to her.
“You have KP this week?” Jez laughed at her new teammate as she grumbled about being assigned to kitchen duty.
“I think they figured since I had tits and a vagina that meant I could cook better than them. They are in for a surprise though, I swear when I am home, 1-800-DelivermyDinner was created for the cooking challenged people. It is on my speed dial, just push a button, and they have it to me whenever I want it. I think the last time I actually cooked a meal, my date ended up in the ER with food poisoning.” Keely grinned.
Jez shook her head, patted Keely on the shoulder, and then said, “Good thing I brought a case of protein bars then. I don’t think they deliver this far out with even pizza.”
Keely snorted. “Hey, we will find out I am sure, because the guys taste my cooking, they will be scrambling for the phone.”
“Seriously though, you need some help? I can at least make sure you aren’t kicked out for lack of cooking skills. I mean, these guys are freaking huge, if they don’t get their meal at the end of a day, they will likely revolt, and then all that crying will keep us awake. It is a vicious cycle we can’t start.” Jez smirked.
“Oh please,” Keely said with a grin. “They will cry like babies even if I served a four course meal made by a chef. It is the nature of the beast, they are just whiny male bitches about everything.”
Jez shook her head and chuckled. “Let us know how you really feel about these guys.”
“Sorry,” Keely said with a grimace. “I am just not looking forward to listening to them bitch about shit. The last team I was with were complete assholes about everything. The food, where I put my shampoo, how I liked to chill out and read every night, the list went on and on. I swear, I would have tried to take cooking lessons if they hadn’t been such pricks. Acting like I was their personal slave even though I was part of the team.”
Jez frowned. “Really? I have never had any of the guys
treat me like that before. Who did you work for?”
“An outfit out of Cali,” Keely said slowly and then looked around. “They were nothing like this crew, I hope it doesn’t turn out the same.”
“Wow,” Jez frowned. “Corbin runs a tight ship, he won’t let shit like that happen here.”
“That is what I heard as well, it is the only reason I tried out for the crew. I was going to quit wildfire crews altogether but someone gave me his name,” Keely said and smiled. “Plus I saw a few pics of the guys and yeah, they at least make good eye candy.”
Jez laughed loudly, she didn’t realize the sound stopped three men in their tracks as they stared with intense attention.
***
They loaded up and drove the distance to The Shack, and into the transport area without stopping. Everyone jumped down from the rear of the vehicle on their own, all except Barbie, she sat there sniveling. She was Corbin’s problem, and they left him to it. The trainees were tired and hungry, and it didn’t take long for the twenty-four people to head for the showers.
Nix was fortunate that he got a closet sized room on his own. He looked around the small space; it would do for his needs. Since the room was situated smack in the middle of the hallway with two rooms on either side, he could only hope his neighbors didn’t snore. His bathroom and the one in the next room must set back to back on the wall, because from the sounds that were coming through, he could tell someone was enjoying sharing their shower. He did his best to ignore them and took care of his own satisfaction before leaving the cubicle. If he was going to have to listen to people having sex, he preferred to hear a woman’s moans over a male’s groans any day.
His stomach felt like his throat had been slit, time to find some food, hopefully whoever had KP duty was at least able to boil fucking water and make something edible. Hell, half the guys were awesome cooks; it was the other half he worried about. His stomach turned as he thought of one particular meal last year that had all the guys in the shitter trying to purge the offensive meal. Who the fuck could fuck up hot dogs and mac and cheese? The answer, a dude whose mama never taught him how to check expiration dates on fucking milk. He shivered at the memory.
