by MJ Fredrick
*****
“Jesus, she’s going to kill her!” Gabe’s stomach plummeted as the Pulaski descended, as Peyton fell.
He damn near forgot he was on a plane, forgot he was escorting the president. Staying in his seat taxed his patience, but the plane didn’t give him much room to maneuver. He had to get out of here, had to get to Peyton. He loomed over Tony’s shoulder in the cockpit, ignoring the tension in the Secret Service agent in the other front seat.
“Can we land?”
“Damn it, Gabe, this is a plane, not a chopper,” the pilot snapped. “Sit the hell down.”
Unwilling to take his word for it, Gabe scanned the land below for a stretch, anyplace he could get off. “I have to get down there.”
“You don’t have your gear,” Jen said, her voice maddeningly calm as she stepped up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll call Doug’s crew. They can get to her.”
Gabe whirled, shoving her placating hand away. “I will not sit down and wait while she’s in danger. And you might want to remember where Doug is, and who might have put him there.”
“Gabe—” He recognized the stubborn expression on her face, but he was ready to out-stubborn her. Peyton was down there.
Peyton. He loved her. And she could be dying, maybe dead, Goddamnit, and he couldn’t get to her. This was how she must have felt when Dan died, how she thought it was her fault, if she’d only done something differently. If only he’d followed his instincts, the ones that never failed him, she’d be safe now.
He turned to the pilot. “I have to get to Bounty. I need Doug Sheridan to help me.”
“Are you insane? We have the president of the United States aboard. I can’t just fly any damn where. Besides, Doug’s in jail. They aren’t going to let him out just because you say so.”
“Doug Sheridan, the man they say set this monster?” the president asked sternly.
Jen’s body jerked at the words—crap, the old man didn’t know Doug was Jen’s husband— but Gabe turned to meet the president’s eyes. “He’s accused, sir, but he didn’t do it. That woman down there, and I believe her brother, are the ones who set the fire.”
“Give me the radio.” The president leaned toward Tony. He gave Gabe a last look. “You’re sure this guy is innocent.”
“Mr. President, you just saw that woman strike down the reporter. What other reason would she have to do that, unless Peyton found out something?”
Again, the president hesitated, and Gabe’s chest squeezed in anticipation. Then Hutchinson took the radio from Tony and called dispatch. “Give me the sheriff’s office.”
*****
Peyton opened her eyes to a blurry world, no longer in the ash, but in grass high enough that she couldn’t see without raising her head. It only took a moment before she remembered where she was, and the pounding in the back of her head reminded her of what she was doing here.
Kim.
A scent, a sound too familiar had her blinking and lifting her head from the ground.
Flames leapt higher than a man’s head in the forest not two hundred yards away. A sense of unreality swamped her. This wasn’t happening again. How many times could one person survive this?
She blinked, wiped her sleeve over her eyes, already sweating against the pulsing heat from the fire down the mountain.
Swaying, she staggered to her feet, lifted a hand to the back of her head and pulled it away sticky with blood. She needed help. She scanned the area. No Kim. No pack. She felt at her hip for the envelope sized fire shelter. Gone. Her stomach dropped.
No help. She was on her own.
*****
Once again Gabe’s emotions had clouded his common sense. All he could think about was getting to Peyton, tools or no tools, plane or no plane. As long as she was around for him to worry about, he had no business in a command position. Good thing the president had understood his agitation, because those Secret Service guys glowered as if they were ready to throw Gabe out of the plane, which wouldn’t be bad, if he had a parachute and his gear.
Doug waited for him at the airfield in Missoula, approached the plane matter-of-factly, already decked out in his gear. Joe-fucking-superhero. He nodded to Gabe and moved past him to greet the president, who debarked to follow Gabe curiously. Then Doug turned and gestured for the two men and their entourage to follow him to the barracks.
“I packed a parachute for you. It’s a little different from the ones you used to use,” Doug said over his shoulder. “I’ll show you how to steer the toggles. We’ll reconnoiter for a drop point before we jump. Just try not to land in a tree, all right?” He shoved a pack at Gabe with a crooked grin.
Despite Gabe helping Doug the past few days, he didn’t want to be in a position of need. His hands tightened around the pack. He’d vowed never to put on another parachute, but now he had no choice. “Let’s go.”
Doug stood still, all patience. Sure, he could afford to be. His woman wasn’t on the mountain, her life in danger. And he’d been released because the president himself pulled some strings. Since he hadn’t yet been sentenced, well, here he was.
“These are my guys, Fred and Josh,” Doug said. “In case we need extra hands out there.”
Gabe didn’t care for that idea. Two more lives to worry about.
“In case Peyton or one of us gets hurt,” Doug continued. “Okay with you?”
Gabe grunted in response.
“Is he coming with us?” Doug nodded toward the president who watched with avid interest as Gabe suited up.
Gabe glanced back at the older man and quirked a brow, letting him answer.
“Can I just—go on the plane?” Hutchinson asked, a quiver of excitement in his voice.
“You’re the boss,” Doug said with a touch too much arrogance, then turned back to Gabe. “We have the latest on the fire. There were still fuels up on the ridge and it’s feeding on that, moving uphill, about a mile long.”
He tried to bring Doug’s words into pictures in his mind, tried to visualize what he was up against, what they’d be jumping into, like he usually did. Instead he pictured Peyton running for her life. Hell, she wasn’t even a real firefighter. She would be so scared. He had to get to her. Now.
He scanned the horizon for planes. “Slurry?”
“Jen said the fleet’s flying out of Wyoming now. We can’t count on any for a couple of hours.”
“Let’s go.”
“Wait a minute.” Doug tugged Gabe’s straps, double-checking their security. “You love her.”
Gabe looked at his former friend, former rival, for the first time. “Yeah. I do.”
Doug frowned. “Maybe you shouldn’t go. I can’t have you distracted up there.”
Anger pushed away any glimmer of friendship. Gabe shoved his face close to Doug’s. “You don’t have to worry about me. Or her, for that matter. If you don’t take me, I’ll just start walking.”
Doug clapped him on the shoulder, then sent a beckoning gesture to the president. “We’re going. We’ll get them back. Come on.”
*****
Gabe’s stomach spun as the plane took off. God, flying was bad enough without the memory of landing in a tree and hanging for hours with a broken leg.
With the cargo doors open, it was too loud inside the plane for conversation, but Gabe caught encouraging glances from Doug, across from him.
The president was between two nervous Secret Service agents. Gabe wondered if they feared Hutchinson would want to jump too. Hell, the man had already shown a flair for adventure. He imagined the old guy was going to get his ass chewed for coming along with them and putting himself in danger. It must suck to not be able to make your own decisions about your life.
Jesus. He’d made decisions about his life since seeing Kim strike Peyton, and all of them involved her. Maybe, if she wanted him to quit doing this, well, he’d see about quitting, do what he could to make her stay with him.
Hell. Oh, hell. He couldn’t think about q
uitting, not now. He’d get them all killed.
Doug grabbed Gabe’s arm and pointed through the open door at the ground. The fire chased fuels up the hill in a Y-shape, very defined even at this altitude. The flames must be pretty damned high, which meant they were getting fed, and the wind that fed them was pushing them.
In the arms of the Y they could see Peyton’s yellow shirt.
Where the hell was Kim?
The fire was too close for Gabe, Doug and the two other jumpers Doug had insisted accompany them to land with Peyton. They’d have to jump uphill and hike down. He could only hope the fire looked closer than it was, or there would be no time to form a plan.
He couldn’t lose her. Not this way, not any way.
The plane turned, searched out a clear site for the jumpers to land, and Gabe fought his nausea to focus on a plan. He flipped through their options as Doug motioned toward a clearing maybe half a mile from Peyton. Doug tossed a streamer out the door to gauge the wind, wanting to see how it would carry the jumpers. Not liking the result, he waited till the plane turned and dropped another, then signaled Gabe and the two other jumpers.
They checked each other’s gear one more time. Doug touched his pull cord as if to remind him which it was, and the jumpers started tumbling out.
Gabe would go after Doug, on the second pass over the jump site. He refused to think about what he was doing. He would concentrate on how he’d make Peyton pay for this once he got her safely home. It wouldn’t be a goddamn cheap motel room this time, either. Hell, there might even be a Jacuzzi and flowers. And room service.
He stood to approach the door of the plane, caught a nod of encouragement from the president before he tucked his chin into his chest and let his weight carry him into nothingness.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he counted as he hurtled through emptiness toward the earth. Hopefully he’d land with all his bones in the right number of pieces this time. He grasped for his cord, felt it from memory and pulled. The parachute opened with a floomph and yanked his body upright. The abrupt change of motion almost made him puke, and he kept his eyes closed as long as he dared before he needed to find a landing spot.
He maneuvered his steering toggles so he would arrive as close to the fast-moving fire as he could without getting himself killed. A lot of good he’d do Peyton if he got caught up in a burning tree, and if he ended up too close to the fire, the updrafts could steer him farther away.
The terrain beneath him was far from ideal for a first jump in years. Jagged rocks dotted the hillside where the trees weren’t. His Kevlar jumpsuit would be put to the test not to be punctured or torn.
He hit like a sack of shit and the wind took his parachute uphill, toppling him sideways so he fell hard on his hip. Damn, he was too old for this. Untangling himself from the parachute cords, he sat up. He couldn’t see ahead of himself through the smoke. Frustrated, he unhooked his parachute and let it fall to the ground.
Doug ran through the smoke toward him. “You all right?”
Gabe brushed off the concern and climbed stiffly to his feet, rubbing his bruised hip. “Do you see her?”
“No, but the fire’s down there.” He gestured downhill. “She should be too.”
Gabe considered calling out to her, but she wouldn’t be able to hear him over the fire, and shouting in all this smoke would be murder on his throat. Doug was good at what he did, but Gabe’s focus had to be on Peyton. So he would trust Doug’s sense of direction and his own instincts to find her.
*****
Peyton stopped running, her calves and thighs burning with the strain, and found herself standing in grass up to her knees.
Fuel. Oh God.
Terror had seized her from the moment she saw the wind kick the flames in her direction. She hadn’t worried when she and Kim came up on the mountain because it appeared everything had been burned away, but now the fire fed on fresh fuel and flames climbed over her head.
The heat rolled over her, and Peyton wanted to tear off her fire shirt to cool herself, but Gabe had taught her well. Of course, right now she was less concerned with the embers than the flames chasing her.
Had Kim set another fire or was this the same one?
She had to get around the flank of the fire. She stopped, just for a moment to assess the situation. The blaze was beautiful, leaping toward the sky in brilliant colors. Mesmerizing.
Jolting herself out of her hypnotism, she realized the fire cradled her in its arms and the only way out was straight ahead—up the mountain.
Panic would kill her. But the smoke closed around her, obscuring her view not only of her escape, but of the fire. What had she learned in her time out here? The only thought in her fear- frozen mind was Gabe’s warning to stay in the burnout. But it was behind her, on the other side of the fire.
Was she going to die out here? A fit of coughing doubled her over. A week ago, she’d had nothing to lose, had no focus.
No love. No Gabe.
The possibility of what she and Gabe could have together filled her with hope. She couldn’t die before seeing what they could become.
Smoke seeped through the bandana covering her face. Something snapped in her mind and she started to think of her own death detachedly. Would the flames catch her first, burn her to death, or would she collapse from smoke inhalation, and the flames would devour her body?
Would Gabe bring down her body? He would feel obligated to, but she didn’t want him to remember her like that. She’d seen how hard it had been for him to prepare himself to bring down Bev and the others.
Tears of terror joined tears of smoke irritation and the muscles in her thighs screamed as she ran to escape death.
Ahead of her, yellow shirts emerged from the smoke so close they almost collided. Otherwise they might be a mirage.
“Peyton?” one of the yellow shirts croaked.
“Gabe!”
The farthest yellow shirt ran toward her and she made out Gabe’s face through the smoke and soot. Relief had every muscle going lax and she stumbled toward him, but like a dream he was there to catch her. He’d come through the fire for her, and the elation nearly brought her to her knees. Was she already dead—how could he come for her when he didn’t know she was here?
But then he took her face in his hands and inspected her to make sure she was all right. For a moment it seemed like he might kiss her. Instead he grabbed her hand and turned back the way he came.
“It’s close,” he told her as she jogged beside him, her gloved hand clasped tightly in his.
“We’re going to make it, right?” She wiped sweat from her eyes. For the first time since she saw the flames, she believed it. Gabe wouldn’t let anything happen to her. They’d get their chance at happily-ever-after after all.
He glanced over at her. “You bet.”
“I tried to remember what you taught me but I couldn’t.”
His expression was grim. “Experience is the best teacher. Follow me. I’ll find a way out.”
“Can’t we just go out the way you came in?”
“We jumped in.”
Peyton stumbled and Gabe’s hand tightened around hers. He jumped. Into a fire. For her.
“You jumped? Out of a plane?”
“I had to get here in a hurry.”
“You hate to fly.”
“I don’t like it that much.”
“But you came.”
“I came.” The expression in his eyes said more than any kiss. He tugged at her hand, urging her along.
She squeezed his hand. Her heart, still pumping madly, swelled with love, but now was not the time to say anything more than, “Thank you.”
“What?”
“You’re getting us out of here, right?”
He raised her dirty-gloved fingers to his lips, kissed them without breaking stride. “I’m getting us out of here.”
He’d found her. Unbelievable. Not until he touched her did he realize he’d expected to lose her. The blood in her hair s
ent another wave of panic through him, but she seemed lucid. Now he had her and wasn’t letting go. He’d find a way to get her out of here.
The radios were useless—the mountain was between them and the base camp. He couldn’t count on someone else to direct them. His experience would get them back.
Doug hurried over to them. “We have to get over the ridge.”
“No.” Gabe didn’t slow. “The fire could spill over, or worse, overtake us while we’re climbing.” Like on Angel Ridge.
Doug looked as frustrated as Gabe felt. “How are we going to get back? The fire’s on both sides of us and in back of us. The only way to get out is ahead of us, up and over the ridge.”
“What was your escape route?” Gabe asked Peyton. He’d drilled that much sense into her.
“Back there.” She jerked her head. “But the fire had blown up by the time I woke up. Gabe, it was Kim.”
“I know.” The words squeezed out of his throat.
Doug sighed. “All right. Let’s keep moving until we can figure something else out.”
Gabe’s legs strained with the effort to move quickly, his shoulder ached from pulling Peyton along, though she did her best to keep up. His feet and knees hurt from his rough landing. He refused to let panic take him, though. That would kill them all for sure.
Ordinarily Gabe walked at the rear of his crew, ensuring they reached safety ahead of him. Today Peyton’s safety came first.
Shouts had them turning, but Gabe still pulled her uphill. Sheer force of will kept them upright.
Smoke billowed around them, obscuring the other smokejumpers, but worse, obscuring the fire. Gabe put himself between Peyton and the fire. The rest of the crew were no longer in sight. He hesitated a moment, considering going back after them, then turned around. They were trained firefighters. The best of the best, Jen would say.
“Come on!” he called to Peyton.
“Gabe, we can’t leave them!” The shock in her voice carried through the smoke.
“Doug will get them back.”
“We can’t leave them!” She dug in her heels and he glared at her impatiently.
“We can’t reach them. They know what to do. I’m more worried about you. Let’s go!”
