Inferno 0f Love (Firefighters 0f Long Valley Book 2)

by Erin Wright

  She sat up fully and leaned against the rock face, holding onto Sparky firmly with one hand while she rummaged for her CamelBak hose with the other. Flipping the cap off with one hand, she brought it to her mouth and sucked down the divine liquid.

  “Ahhhh…” she sighed, leaning her head against the rock and closing her eyes. She sucked on the hose again, happy to be swallowing something that wasn’t red hot and glowing and trying to burn her alive.

  Sparky trembled as he sat next to her, whining every few minutes, clearly upset about being this close to Georgia. She pushed the lid back into place on the hose and then began stroking Sparky slowly and softly.

  She told him he was okay, it was all right, he’d live through it, she’d take care of him…just a soft murmur of comforting words to soothe the poor thing, and honestly, to soothe herself. Now that the fire had moved away, she could feel the belated panic and fear begin to worm its way inside of her. She could’ve died. By all rights, she should have. The red glowing embers in front of her suddenly seemed like the glowing eyes of wolves, and she felt the panic tightening her throat, shortening her breath, she should’ve died, she should’ve—

  A rock bounced down the cliffside and landed with a clatter next to her, scaring the hell outta her. She jerked and stared upwards to find Moose rappelling down the side of the cliff using the rattiest piece of shit rope she’d ever seen in her life.

  Wha…

  Her mind blanked.

  Oh Lordy – he was real. Her mind had completely dismissed him as some sort of weird illusion, and through the sticky veil of panic and fear that she was desperately trying to push down, she realized that she’d somehow banished him from her mind once she’d decided he was an illusion.

  It had to be shock. Nothing else made sense. Nothing else did make sense. It was all hazy and blurry and she began shaking as hard as Sparky, huddled up against the cold rock, getting colder yet as the sun began to set behind the Goldfork Mountains, and nothing was making sense and she was stroking Sparky harder and faster, telling him again and again that he would be okay because he would be okay, and maybe she would be okay too, and—

  Moose’s arms were around her and he was pulling her up against his broad chest as she began to weep violently into his shirt. Her mind was spinning even as she cried, going in endless circles, and she wanted to tell him what had happened and ask him how he got there, but she couldn’t. As fast and as relentless as her mind was, her tongue would not move at all. She was trapped in a world of silence as she sobbed her guts out, relief and panic and joy and terror flowing through her, endlessly through her.

  Finally, the river of tears and sobs slowed down, and she began trying to work her way out of the world of panic she’d wrapped herself up in, and back to the land of the living. And Moose.

  “What am I doing here,” she finally croaked out, as if a tsunami of tears hadn’t hit between the last words they’d spoken to each other, “what are you doing here?”

  He let out a deep laugh as he pulled her closer to his side. “You’re something, you know that?” he said softly as he held her to his side.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” she informed him through her snuffles. “Was it the helicopter?!” she burst out when the memory floated to the top, through the layers of panic still swirling through her. “I thought they’d abandoned me for dead.”

  “Yeah, it was them. A bunch of wildlife biologists doing a deer and elk count to see how the herds did during the winter. They were flying low when they spotted the fire, and when they swooped in for a closer look, they saw you.”

  “I guess I should stop cursing them and their grandchildren then,” she said with a small laugh through her tears, and Moose let out another deep laugh.

  “I’d put the voodoo doll away if I were you,” he said dryly. “So what’s up with the dog? I didn’t know you had one.”

  Georgia pulled away from the warmth of his body to look around. Hold on, where had Sparky gone? During the flood of tears, she’d somehow lost her grip on his collar. She spotted him at the edge of the rocky area, pacing back and forth as he looked out at the still-smoldering ground and bushes.

  “Not mine,” she said with a shrug. “I found him as I was hiking the trail. I was in the middle of trying to get him to come to me when I smelled the fire. He’s skittish as all hell; I think he’s been abused. Who leaves a Dalmatian out in the middle of the wilderness? Whoever his owner is, I don’t think he ought to get him back.”

  “Are you sure it’s a Dalmatian?” Moose asked, squinting through the rapidly darkening twilight.

  “I don’t know. It’s white with black spots. Doesn’t that make it a Dalmatian? I don’t know much about animals; my mom was allergic to dogs.”

  “Hell if I know,” Moose said, pushing himself to his feet. “My mom was allergic to the messes that dogs made.”

  She let out a little snort of laughter at that as she watched Moose try to get close to the dog. It whined and moved out of range, clearly not happy about having Moose so close to him.

  At least he doesn’t hate just me…

  Right then, she heard the low thump-thump-thump of helicopter blades cutting through the air, and she shot to her feet, craning her neck to see past the pine trees stretching up into the sky. Was the helicopter back to rescue them? It came into view, flying low, its blades whipping up the flames again further down the hillside. Moose hurried to the center of the rocky clearing and held his hand up in the air, jutting his thumb up clearly. The helicopter tilted towards him in acknowledgement and then headed back out, the comforting thump-thump-thump of the blades disappearing along with it.

  Georgia longingly watched them go. Didn’t they have a rope ladder they could throw out the window or something?

  Moose caught the disgruntled look on her face and let out a small chuckle. “The fire officials were probably going crazy over the idea of a civilian out here, and me without any sort of equipment. That was just a recon mission to make sure we were okay. Dropping a rope ladder out of the side of a helicopter is only something that happens in movies.”

  Her mouth opened and closed a few times – how did he know she’d just been dreaming about a rope-ladder rescue?! – but she finally nodded grudgingly. “You’re right. Hanging onto a rope ladder while swinging through the air, suspended from a low-flying helicopter…I’m not sure my nerves could’ve handled that anyway.”

  “Even military personnel with special training get freaked out over that sort of thing,” Moose pointed out. “They’re not going to subject a civilian to it.”

  “True,” Georgia acknowledged.

  “Well, I’m going to look at the fire in the area for a minute. Stay put,” he tossed over his shoulder, and then leaving Sparky and herself behind, he headed down the slope. He wasn’t gone long before he came back, hurrying through the blackened brush. “Damn hot!” he said, dropping to his knees and unlacing his boots as soon as he got to the ring of rock. He kicked them off, brushing at his feet ruefully. “Well, that was stupid, Moose,” he mumbled to himself.

  “So I take it we’re not going back down the hill to get out of here?” Georgia called out.

  “Not unless you brought fireproof footgear with you,” he called back, scooping his boots up and starting to limp towards her in just his socks. “It got hot enough to start to melt the rubber of the soles on my boots, so I’m pretty sure your tennis shoes aren’t going to fare any better.”

  She stared ruefully down at her Nikes. “Probably not,” she said with a disgruntled sigh.

  He settled down next to her and wiggled his toes. His socks – which had probably started out white this morning – were gray and black with soot, small holes burned in them from the heat.

  “I think I owe you another pair of socks,” she said with a small laugh. “And boots, too.”

  He shrugged, the fading light making it hard to see his face clearly. “No biggie. We should talk about our plans for tonight. I’m assuming your cell
phone doesn’t work?”

  She shook her head. “I lost signal a couple of hours ago.”

  “Yeah, I lost it on the way up here too. Even the first responder radio doesn’t work.”

  “Aren’t those supposed to work anywhere?”

  “The new ones do,” he said, his jaw tightening with anger. “But we don’t have the new ones. Chief Horvath didn’t do the paperwork for ‘em. Jaxson is hard at work, trying to get us caught up, technology-wise, but there’s so much to do…I used to like Horvath, ya know? Thought he was a pretty good guy. I knew he wasn’t getting everything done like he was supposed to, but it wasn’t until he was gone that I found out how much he’d left ‘for later.’ He wanted to just play with fire trucks – ride them in the 4th of July parade and throw candy out to the kids. Work? Not his strong suit.”

  Georgia nodded. That sounded like Chief Horvath all right. He was a portly older gentleman that she’d seen around town, but had never had much reason to talk to a whole lot. But she’d heard from more than one source that the closer he got to retirement, the less he cared.

  Right now, she wished he’d cared a whole lot. A working radio would be a godsend.

  “So, our choices are to hike out, around Eagle’s Nest to the north. We can’t climb back up the cliff ‘cause there’s no way to reach the rope.”

  She craned her head to look up the rock face in the gathering darkness. A rope dangled, high above their heads. Moose’d made quite a drop to get from the end of that rope to the ground. She’d seen it when it had happened, but had already forgotten. Her mind still felt fuzzy around the edges, and there was a part of her that knew that she was still in shock.

  “Or,” he continued, “we can stay put for the night and hike out come morning. I think that’s what we ought to do, considering the path outta here isn’t exactly paved and smooth. We could break our necks hiking it in the dark, and it’ll be pitch dark by the time we got to the truck.”

  “That honestly doesn’t sound like we have much of a choice,” she said ruefully, and then shivered, her whole body spasming from the force of it.

  “Dammit, Georgia, you’re freezing to death,” Moose cursed, grabbing his pack and riffling around in it. “I think I still have the space blankets in here, and probably a sweatshirt.” He switched on his headlamp and began pulling items out, most of it unrecognizable to her in the quickly fading light. Finally, he pulled out a beat-up plaid button-up shirt.

  “Here, put this on over your t-shirt,” he said, holding the garment out to her, his headlamp turning with him and blinding her. She instinctively held up a hand to block out the beam of light and he let out another curse. “Sorry,” he said, switching the headlamp off before holding up the shirt again. “It’s not winter gear, but it’s better than nothing.”

  She gratefully slid her arms into the sleeves and was instantly swallowed up by the sheer size of it. She knew Moose was physically bigger than her, but she hadn’t realized just how much bigger until now. She could detect the faint smell of his cologne, just peeking through the campfire and smoke smells that were overpowering them.

  It smelled…nice. Comforting in a part of her soul that she hadn’t paid attention to in a very long time.

  She pushed that thought away. That had to be the smoke and shock talking.

  “Let me see what else I have,” he said, flipping his headlamp back on and digging in again. He came up with two pathetic-looking peanut M&M packages, a small package of beef jerky, and a bottle of water.

  “Well, we at least won’t die of dehydration,” Georgia said, taking the proffered package of M&Ms and tearing into it. Moose switched his headlamp off and settled in next to her to feast on his own M&M dinner. She shifted on the ground, her ass going to sleep from sitting on the hard rock. “I have water in my CamelBak also. I had a water bottle too, but I threw that water on top of Sparky and me.”

  “Sparky, huh? Cute name for a girl.”

  “What?” she said, shocked. “Sparky isn’t a girl. He’s a guy.”

  “Only if she’s had a sex change and is now sporting different equipment than she was born with,” Moose said dryly.

  Instinctively, Georgia’s eyes searched for the dog in the darkness, but even as she strained to see him…her, she knew it was useless. It was just too damn dark in the wilderness, with no street lamps or cars passing with their headlights on, or business signs lit up. She’d forgotten how dark it got at night out in the middle of nowhere. It made her feel helpless and small. Not exactly a feeling she relished.

  She shifted on the hard rock again.

  “I guess I didn’t look, now that I think about it,” Georgia admitted. “I just assumed it was a boy.”

  “Why, because boys don’t know how to stay put where they’re supposed to?” Moose asked with a laugh as he finished his package of M&Ms and began searching through his pack again.

  “Probably.” Her voice was light as she said it, but her body betrayed her and she shivered again. She didn’t know if she was cold from sitting on a rock that was endlessly sucking her body heat away, or if it was because it was night, or if it was because she was still in shock, but she couldn’t seem to stop shivering.

  And then Moose was shaking out a large, crinkling piece of something and laying it over them, pulling her tight up against his side, sharing the warmth of his body with her. His hand was caressing her head, pulling it down to his shoulder, running his fingers through her hair.

  Once she’d stopped shivering so hard her teeth were in imminent danger of chattering right out of her skull, she could actually hear him. “Shhhh…it’s okay…” he murmured, and her mind flipped back to when she’d been holding Sparky close to her, trying to calm him her down even as the wildfire raged towards them. She’d been so strong in that moment. What happened to that strength?

  And then she remembered the promise that she’d made herself – she could fall apart as soon as she was safe. She’d imagined that this safety would be in her bedroom at home, but for tonight, it was in Moose’s arms instead.

  And at that very moment, she couldn’t seem to make herself regret that. Later she would, but not right now.

  Chapter 9

  Moose

  Moose woke up slowly, a particularly persistent bird call bringing him up through the layers. He was disoriented – why was he sitting outside? And why couldn’t he feel his arm?

  He looked down at his left arm, which was when he spotted Georgia snuggled there beside him, her mouth slightly open as she snored softly into the pre-dawn darkness.

  Georgia. The fire. It was all coming back to him now.

  Except the feeling in his left arm. That wasn’t showing up at all. If he didn’t move his arm and soon, he wouldn’t have a left arm to move. He tried to pull back just a little at a time, hoping to keep from waking Georgia up.

  Even as he tried to extricate himself from her snoring embrace, he was also mentally pinching himself. Waking up next to Georgia was the most wonderfully awful thing he’d ever had happen to him in his whole life. Having her there, nestled against him, relying on him, believing in him…

  He shouldn’t let himself go there, of course. Mentally, he couldn’t afford to. Georgia was so far off-limits for him, she really ought to have No Trespassing tattooed across her forehead. He was going to marry her cousin. Someday. When he could make himself do it.

  But right here, right now, it was just them against the wilderness. There was no cousin, no guilt, no responsibilities weighing him down. He could just be him – the him who wanted nothing more than to lean down and kiss Georgia on her soft lips.

  Well, maybe he wanted to get his arm out from underneath her a little more than that. It was starting to hurt something fierce.

  He tugged a little more, Georgia snuggled closer a little more, gave a little sigh, and then, her eyes drifted open and she was staring up at him. The world froze in the flat, pre-dawn light as they stared at each other, their mouths just inches apart, and he wasn’t bre
athing but he was leaning down—

  “Woof!” Sparky said softly, her legs pawing at the air, in the midst of one hell of a dream. Georgia and Moose jerked apart and they were laughing, acting like it was no big deal as Moose rubbed his arm, trying to get some circulation back into it, and they scooted apart, turning to look down over the valley, pretending that nothing had happened.

  Nothing at all.

  “What…” Georgia yawned and stretched, making his piece-of-shit holey flannel shirt look better than it had any right to, “what time is it?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I left my phone in the truck ‘cause it had no signal, and I don’t wear a watch.”

  “Shit,” she said, pulling her bag across the rocks over to her, “I forgot to put mine into airplane mode once I got out of range. I bet it’s dead as a doornail after spending all last night searching for a signal.” She pulled the phone out of the front pocket of the bag and heaved a sigh. “Yup. Nothing. Not that it would do us much good, but it’d be nice to at least know what time it was.”

  She began shaking again, and with a muttered curse, Moose tucked the space blanket in around her. “Sorry,” she said around chattering teeth, “I was fine, but you know how it is when you get out of bed in the morning. The shock of the cold air…”

  Even as her body was jerking violently from the shivering, she was trying to straighten out her hair, running her fingers through the silky blonde strands, and Moose had to bite down – hard – to keep from telling her to stop.

  She made the just-waking-up look…well, look damn good. He wondered for a moment what Tennessee would look like first thing in the morning, when she hadn’t dolled herself up and curled her hair and primped for hours in front of the mirror, and realized that not only could he not imagine it, he didn’t want to imagine it. That kind of beauty-pageant beauty was attractive to a lot of men, but Moose was realizing that he absolutely wasn’t one of them.

  He preferred gutsy, athletic, muscular, short blondes who didn’t mind going after what they wanted, and worked damn hard to get to where they were. You could even say that he had a type…that is, if being in love with Georgia Rowland was a type.