Wildfire and Roses

by Hope Malory

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Us? Why us?”

  “Because we found her.”

  “No, you found her,” Will reminded him.

  “The daughter invited the three of us, and I don’t want to go by myself. I would be grateful if you would come.”

  They looked at each other and shrugged. “Sure, we’ll go,” Will said.

  “Thanks.” Josh gazed at Beasley and winked. “Even if Will thinks you can’t pull your weight, you can be on my team anytime.”

  “I appreciate it, and I would be honored.” She hugged him before they left.

  Chapter 6

  Beasley punched Casey’s number on her cell.

  “Case, I’m leaving the valley. Don’t expect me until tonight.”

  “No problem, I need to catch up on some work. What’s going on?”

  “Remember the jock I mentioned?”

  “The jerk?”

  “Yes, but he may be decent after all. As it turns out, you know him. Will Gregor.”

  “Cowboy? Your jerk is Cowboy? That’s his nickname. The guy is wonderful. Had I met him before my ex, I would have married him.”

  “Not too late, you’re single, and so is he.”

  “No chance. That would be too weird.”

  “Whatever. Will and I are hanging out, and the plan is for me to follow him to Tahoma so he can show me around.”

  “Aha.”

  “Don’t you play matchmaker again. There is no aha. See you tonight.”

  The first tourist stop was Emerald Bay. Will took Beasley 600 feet above Lake Tahoe to Inspiration Point. “This is one of the most photographed places on earth and is recognized as a National Natural Landmark. This is the best spot to overlook the bay.”

  In contrast, Lake Tahoe appeared a deep sapphire blue, and Emerald Bay glistened with blue-green waters. The unspoiled views, glacier-carved granite, alpine areas, and snow-covered mountains in the background all provided serenity and exquisite beauty. The crisp scent of pine and the cold mountain spice that was uniquely Tahoe hung in the air.

  “The small land mass in the center of the bay gouged out by glaciers is Fannette Island, the only islet in Tahoe. A teahouse built there in the 1920s is now a stone shell.” Sparse trees dotted the brush-covered granite jutting 150 feet above the water. “Over there is Vikingsholm Castle, a thirty-eight-room replica of a ninth-century Scandinavian castle constructed in the 1860s. Notice the cobblestone courtyard and the round room wing. The exterior features granite boulders imbedded in mortar. The detail isn’t visible from here, but the fortress features massive hand-hewn timbers, carvings around the doors, dragon-heads sculpted at the pitch of the roof, and a sod roof with wildflowers growing on it.”

  Absorbing the majestic panorama, she said, “This is stunning. I’m in my element in this amazing place. Thanks for bringing me here.” If she listened hard, she could distinguish the lapping of the snowmelt lake against the shore below.

  “I thought you might like this area.”

  While they strolled back toward the car, she said, “Case told me your nickname. What’s the story?”

  “As a kid, I loved watching westerns. My parents gave me a cowboy hat and boots for Christmas one year. The guys called me Cowboy, and it stuck. Could be worse.”

  “Yes, it could. Since I was so little, my brothers named me Peanut. After I gave them all nicknames as degrading as I could think of, they stopped calling me that.”

  “That would do it.”

  She turned her attention to the view. “I can envision myself swimming and riding a bike here.”

  “The past two years, I competed in the Lake Tahoe Triathlon. The lake is so clear you can see the bottom during most of the one-mile swim. The second leg involves biking twenty-four paved miles on Highway 89. There is a bridge over Taylor Creek with an adjacent bicycle path. The run portion is almost seven miles lakeside and mountainside, sometimes on narrow ledges. Can’t beat the scenery: wildlife, water seeping out of rock walls, and, most of all, the lake view. It’s the brightest blue you’ll ever see. I enjoy the surroundings as much as the race itself. It takes place the last week in August. Why don’t you come out here and join me?”

  “What a blast. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Great. The next stop is about eighteen miles north at Sugar Pine Point.”

  They climbed in their vehicles, and as they drove, they crossed a stone-arch bridge over Eagle Creek and passed Eagle Falls, a waterfall descending 140 feet to near Vikingsholm and into Emerald Bay.

  After they arrived, they parked and walked to the eleven-thousand-square-foot Pine Lodge, a shingle-style California craftsman constructed in the late 1800s.

  “The architect built this as a summer home out of almost all native materials,” Will explained. They stood on the porch of the three-story structure, looking past the sloping lawn to the edge of Lake Tahoe. The icy waters of the massive, jewel-blue lake glittered in the sun.

  “The park is two-thousand acres of dense forests and fronts two miles of shoreline,” Will said.

  “This is a forester’s dream. Since I arrived, I have identified white and red fir, aspen, cedar, and four species of pines: sugar, Jeffrey, ponderosa, and lodgepole. Those wildflowers are Indian paintbrush and columbine.” She stopped herself. “Sorry, a habit. Trees and flowers are my business. This is why I love identifying them.”

  “No problem, I like hearing about your interests.”

  The path through the park took them past a road crew of burly, salt-of-the-earth guys. Will waved at them. “The workers manage erosion control, thinning of overcrowded forests, removal of dead trees, and prescribed burning.”

  “How do you know so much about this place?”

  “I worked here summers in my senior year of high school and as a freshman and sophomore in college.”

  “Where did you go to college?”

  “UNR—that’s the University of Nevada, Reno—but I went for only two-and-a-half years. Because of my proficiency in math, my parents pushed me to major in accounting. I hated it. Can you imagine me in an office all day?”

  “No, I can’t visualize you as an accountant. Being out in nature suits you. What led you into firefighting?”

  “The fire department in Tahoma had an opening and I applied. The chief offered me the job, so I dropped out, and here I am.”

  “This is an incredible place. What do you like about it?”

  “All of it. The rugged mountains, canyons, streams with waterfalls, lakes, wildlife, and panoramic views. The activities I enjoy most are rock climbing, speed skiing, stand-up paddle boarding, and all the winter sports. Also, I like the gold rush history of the area.”

  Will impressed her with his intelligence, his interest in historical events, his vast knowledge of the region, and his love of nature and outdoor recreation. Indeed, she would have fun with someone like him who was not at all like she had imagined at first. Too bad he lived over two-thousand miles from her.

  “How about we take a quick hike to the old Rubicon Point Lighthouse since we are driving a lot today? The trail is nearby, and it’s about a mile-and-a-half round trip.”

  “Love lighthouses, and we don’t have them anywhere near Tennessee.”

  After they arrived at the hill on the lighthouse trail, she challenged him. “Race you to the top.”

  After she began running, Will followed. By the time they made it to the summit, Beasley had surged ahead by less than an arms-length. Will reached out and grabbed her causing her to pitch backward into his chest. She shrieked, and they laughed. To steady her, he turned her to face him and held her arms. Her hands landed on his well-developed pecs, their bodies inches apart. Due to the longing in his eyes that matched her own, her breath caught in her throat. Thoughts tumbled through her mind as they main
tained eye contact. Transfixed, she couldn’t tear her focus away from those blue eyes. His gaze slid to her lips. She memorized the angles of his face, the tiny cleft in his chin, and the mouth she imagined on hers. Time stood still.

  Though her body said yes to the kiss she knew he considered, her dazed mind reluctantly said no. As a result, she stepped backward to regain her equilibrium and broke the trance. “No fair, I won.”

  Will took a deep breath. Although he pasted a smile on his face, his voice sounded constricted when he said, “Remind me to never compete against you again.”

  To change the subject, she asked, “So, which way is the lighthouse?”

  “The trail slopes downward toward the lake, and we will go down some granite steps. Don’t get your hopes up. It isn’t the traditional kind you think of. This is an unpainted wooden structure some say resembles a giant outhouse with a cedar shake roof.”

  Though the tower appeared as he described, the view of the lake from that vantage point was spectacular. The area evoked a serene and relaxed atmosphere. This close to Will, the almost kiss echoed in her mind awakening emotions and physical responses dormant for quite some time. Why can’t I find someone like him in East Tennessee?

  As soon as they drove into his hometown and she parked her rental car, she slid into his Subaru Outback for the tour. “Tahoma’s claim to fame is that during the 1960 Winter Olympics in Squaw Valley, the town was selected as the site of the cross-country skiing and biathlon. Since our community is small, it won’t take long to drive through.”

  Will drove past the fire department.

  “So, you work here?”

  “At one time I did and will again starting next month. I broke my leg the first week of June.”

  “How did you break it?”

  “On a smoke jump and—”

  She threw up her hands. “Whoa, wait a minute, you’re a smokejumper?”

  “Yeah, we were on a fire in the Sierra Nevada mountains.”

  “Hold on, you skimmed over that like it’s no big deal.”

  “Let me back up. I was a firefighter and after a year, I went through hotshot training and they accepted me. Hotshots are like smokejumpers, except they don’t bail out of a plane. After I saw my first parachute jump, I decided I wanted to do that. Two summers ago was my first experience. The problem is, I broke my femur on the first jump this season, requiring me to sit out the rest of the summer. The chief offered to hire me until the fire season starts next year. One of his senior firefighters is retiring in a few weeks, and I’ll start when he leaves.”

  “Smokejumping is super dangerous.”

  “Sounds worse than it is.”

  “From what I read, you guys parachute from an airplane in a remote area, carrying heavy equipment to fight wildfires. Sounds dangerous to me.”

  “Fighting fires is high risk, but we go through intense training. All of us are highly trained and experienced. We wear jump gear, a thick, padded suit, and a helmet for protection. Some of our fire gear is air-dropped in a separate container rather than us parachuting with it. We’re the first attack to suppress wildfires in early stages while they are still small to prevent them from spreading. Often, we can put the flames out within a few hours of arrival. Jumpers go through some medical instruction, and they equip all aircraft with trauma gear to help with rescue when necessary. Yes, smokejumping is dangerous, but we’re well prepared.”

  He’s downplaying everything. “Now I understand the strange expression on your face when I mentioned the relentless training and parachuting required of Navy SEALS. That describes you. What caused you to break your leg?”

  “We jump in pairs, and I was first. The spotter signaled for me to go. It was a bad exit.”

  “What is a bad exit?”

  “Means it didn’t go as it should. My parachute didn’t deploy right away, and I couldn’t control where I landed. Don’t laugh, but I ended up in the top of a ponderosa pine with my chute snagged.”

  “So, you broke it when you hit the tree?”

  “No. Do you want me to tell the story or not?”

  “Sorry, go ahead.”

  “Although I yanked the parachute free, I was still in the tree, so I climbed down as far as I could and secured a rope. My let-down rope was 150 feet long. The ground appeared to be closer when I gauged the distance, but after dropping the rope, I discovered it didn’t go all the way down. No problem. I could jump the rest of the way, so I jumped, but I didn’t see the log underneath a bed of leaves. My shin hit it, breaking my leg.”

  “Oh no. Weren’t you in the middle of nowhere? How did you get out?”

  “One of the guys came running to assist me. Instead, of accepting his help, I insisted he go join the others to dig a fire line to control the burn before it spread. The wind gusted, and the fire jumped a ridge. Record drought and summer temperatures had baked the vegetation. High winds fueled the wildfire, and the flames swept through fast. It took a turn, accelerated, and headed in my direction. Three crew members raced up the hill to help me to the pickup point. Fortunately, we got out minutes before the fire could reach us.”

  “Wow, I’m nervous just listening to you tell this. Why do you guys do what you do?”

  “The satisfaction of facing and overcoming challenges and seeing the results of your efforts. The camaraderie with the other men drives us. Some of it is to know you can do things others can’t. The excitement of danger plays a role too. We provide a service to the public, and the best part is we save lives, homes, and forests. Enough about me. If you’re available one night, I want to take you to my favorite restaurant outside of Kings Beach in Carnelian Bay. About a half-hour drive for both of us. What do you think?”

  “I would say, ‘It’s a date,’ but since neither of us is into dating now, I’ll say, ‘I’ll meet you there’ instead. Now, I need to leave for Truckee. This has been a fun day and a memorable week. See you on Thursday night.”

  Forty-five minutes later, she crossed the threshold into Casey’s cabin on Donner Pass across from Donner Lake, a freshwater lake almost three miles long and three-quarters of a mile across. With Tahoe only a short drive away, Donner boasted slightly warmer water, emptier parking lots, and cheaper cabin rentals. It was a favorite for families to hang out at the beach, bike, boat, camp, fish, and canoe.

  “Yum. Did you make your famous lasagna?”

  “Yes, it comes out of the oven in a half hour. Help me set the table and tell me all about your day with Cowboy. Did he kiss you?”

  Beasley hesitated before she frowned and said, “No, he did not kiss me. It isn’t like that. Rather, he was my tour guide.”

  “Not convincing.”

  “Okay, there was a moment, but nothing happened.”

  “Are you seeing him again?”

  “The ranger asked us to go with him next Sunday to a memorial service. They identified the skeleton I told you about as a woman hiker whose family lives in Fresno. The adult children wanted all three of us to come. And, I’m meeting him one night for dinner. Hey, I see the silly smirk on your face. Don’t say a word.”

  Casey feigned innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Yeah, but you thought it. There is nothing romantic as you are implying.”

  “Hello, you forget I have known Will for years. For one thing, he doesn’t spend that much time with a lady unless he’s crazy about her. For another, I know you.”

  “Case, get real. The man lives here, and I live in Tennessee. He might still harbor feelings for his old girlfriend since they only broke up a few months ago, and they were together for years.”

  “True, but they’re incompatible. He may not recognize it, but you are much more his type than she is.”

  “He informed me he’s a smokejumper, but he glossed over it like it wasn’t a big deal.�
��

  “Will is self-effacing and publicity shy. He doesn’t brag because he doesn’t need to. No doubt, he is competent and confident in what he does. Although he may have seemed so when you first met, he isn’t arrogant.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “This is a guy who risked his life to save two teenagers swept away in a raging river. In his spare time, he helps tutor struggling math students. A newspaper articled portrayed his heroic efforts in a major fire last year. Single-handedly, he helped several families move to safety before the flames could reach them.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  “Will is the kind of guy who stops to help change a tire or rebuild a neighbor’s fence after a storm blows a tree across it. Did you know he’s part of a Search and Rescue team?”

  “Yes, he mentioned he did rescues.”

  “He didn’t tell you he handled at least a dozen or more saves, many of them in super dangerous situations.”

  “Does the guy have any faults?”

  “Will was a hell-raiser in high school and college, but after he became a firefighter, he settled down and focused more on other people rather than himself. You could do worse than having Will for a boyfriend.”

  “Still, it doesn’t negate that we live thousands of miles apart. If you’re so into matchmaking, why didn’t you fix me up with Dalton? No secret your brother has been my dream guy for years, and he lives in Azalea Valley.”

  “His fiancée wouldn’t like it very much.”

  “Yeah, there is that. Oh well. Do you have Wi-Fi here? I need to do a little research.”

  “Yes, I’ll give you my code so you can connect. What are you researching?”

  She revealed to Casey about the debt notices Brenner found in her grandmother’s papers and what little she had discovered about the Devlins. “I’m curious about them.”