Forged (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 3)

by Piper Stone

  Sitting up, he tried to think about how to help her. One thing he did know. The attorney and parent seemed to have upset her. Was it because of his advances or something more sinister? He was determined to find out. He climbed out of bed and stretched, allowing the delicious aspects of the evening he’d spent to shove past the worry. She was…

  “Fuck!” He’d told her he loved her. There was no way around what he said, no way to change his statements. He’d said in no uncertain terms how he felt. As he walked into the bathroom, he rubbed the two-day stubble on his face, stopping short as he turned on the light and his reflection gawked back at him. Yep. He was a goner. He was in love with a woman he barely knew. And the protective papa bear had come roaring out. With claws. He moved toward the mirror, studying the man glaring back at him. He’d resigned and admitted love in a single day. What was next? Changing the world? Killing an attorney.

  Hissing, he was determined to make a plan. She would come and stay with him until they figured out what or if there was a reason for her to be nervous. Could he leave town with her? Move to parts unknown? What the hell. He had nothing left given he’d left the team. The realization hit him in the gut. One thing he needed was to clear his mind. After a quick shower, he was going for a ride on Beauty.

  At least the captain had pushed back against the resignation, stating in no uncertain terms that he refused until Garcia took a couple of days to think about what he was saying. Nothing was going to change his mind, at least nothing he could think of. He started the water and waited, going over what few details she’d given him. The single connection was the attorney. What was his name? Oh, yes. Troy Bruester. Well, first thing after the ride. He’d check on the man’s credentials. If he was who he said he was, there might be no problem, other than kicking his ass for hitting on his girlfriend. At least the thought gave him a smile.

  A little over fifteen minutes later, Garcia was dressed and pulling Beauty from the barn. He held her reins, breathing in the crisp air. Invigorated, he walked her out of the corral and toward the path leading away from his house. The snow had all but stopped, yet the fresh flakes and light breeze provided a breathtaking backdrop for his ride. After saddling up, he rubbed his hand down her mane as he leaned over. “You’re my gorgeous girl. Ready for a hard ride today?”

  Snorting, Beauty kicked out her front leg, her hoof pawing the snow-covered ground. He rocked back in the saddle, his thoughts drifting. If only Laney were on the ride with him. He took off, allowing Beauty to take the lead. She knew the way. They’d been down the path dozens of times, heading toward the river. He shivered as he hunkered down, pressing his hand against Beauty’s side. She loved to run, galloping as if she already knew the destination, wanting nothing more than to find the trickling stream.

  Garcia held the leather reins tightly in his hand as he guided her, huffing as she picked up speed, careful on the slippery sections, shadowed by the line of bending trees. Snow kicked up under her hooves as they continued the ride, approaching the river. His thoughts drifted into nothing but the ride, the way the massive horse maneuvered the twists and turns. There was no fear in her mannerisms, only a dominating mare savoring adventure. When they neared the river, he pulled back on the reins, slowing her to a trot. “Easy, baby girl.”

  There was nothing more dazzling than seeing icicles dripping in long strings from the various pine trees. They were pristine, almost perfect, the weight pulling the limbs down until the tips almost touched the ground. He could hear the water, sliding over rocks on its way to a waterfall barely a mile away. He walked her into a small clearing and took a deep breath. The view of the surrounding area was magnificent, the landscape highlighted by the gray sky, fresh snow and frost. He realized at that very moment what a lucky man he was and for so many reasons.

  Garcia craned his neck and could just see the Hatcher ranch, or what was left of the former pristine location. Sure, he remembered what the captain had told him – extenuating circumstances. Whatever they were, the poor man didn’t deserve to have his entire life stripped away, his house and barn burned to the ground. He so wished things could have turned out differently. He sat on Beauty, rubbing her back as he surveyed the area. The mountain range in the background, he could imagine vacationers and some locals spiraling down the trails, their skiing adventure everything the glossy town brochures made the city out to be.

  He hadn’t been able to take time to consider outdoor sports, let alone many recreational activities. He’d been too busy. “Ah, Beauty. Am I doing the right thing?”

  She whinnied and shook her head, twisting until her large, chocolate brown eye could stare into his. “You know me too well. Don’t you, girl?” The word ‘impulsive’ came to mind. For offering his resignation or for telling Laney how he felt? He was no longer certain. He continued staring at the Hatcher ranch, his gut driving his instinct into overdrive. He didn’t believe for a second that the recent fires weren’t connected. Even the Wildroot Ranch fire raised red flags.

  After staring at the remnants of the Hatcher ranch for several minutes, he tugged the reins again. “Let’s go see what we can find, Beauty.” The narrow area crossing over the river was snow covered, the ice crystals glistening as the sun tried to peek its way through the bank of clouds. He studied the strip of land, the lapping water before attempting to cross.

  “Slow and easy, girl.” Beauty responded without issue, crossing over in a slow trot, every step carefully planned. She was more the expert than he was. When they were on the other side, he pushed his heels against her flanks. “Let’s go.”

  Beauty took off at a full run, her head held high, her mane flowing in the wind. The closer they got to the burned-out destruction, the more apprehensive he became. Everything was so quiet, far too eerie given the day and the backdrop. He slowed as he neared, his eyes sweeping the entire property. The yellow tape from the fire investigation remained, certain portions having broken loose and swinging in the breeze.

  Only the exterior fence remained intact, undamaged by the flames or the rescue efforts. The gate was swinging open, the metal latch clanging against the fence as it swung back and forth.

  Thump. Thump.

  He watched the rustic gate as it moved in slow motion then listened for signs there was anyone else on the grounds. There were no cars and no indication anyone had been back. He knew Mr. Hatcher remained in the hospital, recovering from his injuries. Whatever family the man supposedly had, if he had, certainly didn’t seem to have a need to begin the rebuilding process. Then again, perhaps insurance had kept the construction from occurring.

  After riding in through the gate, he scanned the perimeter before heading closer. The recent snow had covered the scarred earth but did little to hide the eradication of a man’s entire life. Only a small section of a wall and the brick chimney remained intact, the top bridging a section of trees. He trotted Beauty closer then slid off her back, patting her flank. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Very carefully he trudged through the debris, heading toward the house. The wooden structure was all but cinders, yet one wall remained, partially standing. The area where the kerosene heater supposedly started the fire. Why hadn’t the wall crumbled into char and soot? He shoved his frozen hands into his pockets and walked closer. The kitchen appliances had melted, indistinguishable in any manner. Only the refrigerator held any particular shape. He walked into what would have been the living room and crouched down, digging through the snow.

  He found nothing but slabs of broken wood, pieces of timber and broken glass. From this vantage point, he was shocked to see the heater. While the rumbled mess was almost completely destroyed, he could make out exactly what it was. “Huh.” The single word floated away, whistling in the wind. From somewhere he could swear he heard birds cackling overhead. There was no way. He was hearing things. His steps methodical, he made his way to the heater, hunkering down as he investigated.

  While he didn’t have the same investigative skills as the fire inv
estigator, he couldn’t help but wonder if Mr. Nelson caught the fact the unit wasn’t completely burned. Maybe he’d have a discussion with the man. The words of his captain, warning him to lay off rushed into the back of his mind. He tugged his phone from his pocket and took a series of pictures. Just in case. For what? What did he think he was going to do? He shook his head as a cold shiver sliced down his back. Maybe he should leave well enough alone.

  He took long strides back toward Beauty, stopping for a few seconds to look toward the barn. At least the animals had been rescued, taken somewhere to be cared for. He was thankful for being a part of their recovery. There was nothing else he could find here and even if he did, what good would it do? Taking a deep breath, he walked back toward Beauty just as he heard what sounded like a rough engine and close enough, the vehicle had to be coming toward the ranch. He swung onto Beauty and waited, tipping his head in the direction of the sound.

  Whoever was coming, was moving fast, too fast for a casual visit. He leaned over, patting her head as she started to stomp, her eyes filling with fear. “Whoa. It’s okay. I’m here.”

  The noise continued to get louder, the engine sound kicking into a higher gear. Garcia rose up on the horse and managed to catch flying snow, rocketing out from the side of whatever was coming. The noise was definitely coming from a truck and one with a doctored muffler. Curiosity killing him, he trotted closer. The small road leading into the property remained covered, but he knew where he was going. He’d driven by the place often enough.

  Within seconds, an older truck appeared, oversized tires kicking up the snow as it roared up the road and toward the house. Even from the distance, he could tell the make of the truck, a Ford and from the looks of it, an F-350. He slowed Beauty until she was just walking and as the truck came closer, he tried to make out the driver. He could see there were two people but no indication of who they were. The truck wasn’t familiar.

  “What do we have, my girl?” Garcia whispered and made clicking sounds as he tapped her hindquarters. Beauty took off, heading in the direction of the truck.

  The truck slowed then pulled to a stop, keeping the engine idling. The front of the vehicle was directed toward him and there was no way the driver couldn’t see his approach.

  His sixth sense kicked in as he came closer, able to make out the full gun rack on the back. Were they scavengers or worse? “Let’s go.” He let the reins slack until Beauty took off, snorting as if she understood their purpose.

  The driver gunned the engine until thick black smoke poured out of the exhaust. Seconds later, Garcia noticed a flash and by some luck of God, veered off to the right just as…

  Boom!

  The shot rang through the morning air, followed by a zinging noise as the bullet hit something just behind him. He continued moving closer, yet turned his path, twisting his head just as he could swear the driver raised his gun again. He lowered down until his face was almost on Beauty’s mane and pushed her hard, moving toward the trees. He held his breath, waiting for another blast, but there was nothing but the roar of the engine.

  When he was safely behind a bank of trees, he slowed and turned Beauty until he could see the truck. The driver idled for another full minute before reversing, kicking up debris as well as snow in an effort to leave the area. The vehicle swung around, sliding on the snow before taking off again, moving back down the driveway to the road at excessive speeds.

  When the truck was safely out of view, he patted Beauty’s ass. “Let’s see who they are.” He remained in the tree line following the road, galloping, Beauty jumping over thick underbrush. She moved with skill and ease until they were parallel to the road, following a mere thirty yards behind the truck. He craned his neck, trying to see the license plate but after the third try, could tell the plate had been covered with dirt, mud and snow. Still, he followed until they made a turn on the main road, the driver flooring the accelerator.

  As the truck neared the intersection, he pulled back, panting from adrenaline. After easing Beauty to a stop, he rubbed her mane and hissed. There were definitely two men inside but that was the only information he’d been able to garner. What were they hunting for? He twisted, looking up the embankment and was determined to find out. Maybe a stop at the hospital would be a good choice. “Let’s go home.”

  When Beauty trotted out of the trees and he was able to see his place, he noticed Stoker’s truck parked in front. He walked her inside the corral and took his time pulling the saddle. By the time he walked toward the front of his house, Stoker was standing on the porch, leaning against the slender pole. “Thought you might show up.”

  Stoker sniffed and kept his gaze pointed toward the sky. “You didn’t think I’d hear about your bullshit?”

  “Which topic are we talking about?” Garcia climbed up onto the decking, kicking snow off his boots.

  “Don’t give me any shit, Garcia. The captain certainly couldn’t lie about the reason you didn’t show up this morning. Quitting? That’s not your style.”

  “Yeah? Well, you don’t know me.” Mumbling under his breath, he walked into the house, tossing his jacket on the oversized leather chair and storming into the small kitchen. He was freezing, pissed off and ready to bite the head off a goat. And not necessarily in that order.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  He heard the demand in Stoker’s voice and knew he owed his friend an explanation. “Coffee?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  Garcia gave him a harsh look as he grabbed the coffee pot, rinsing and filling it with water. “I told you I wasn’t happy.”

  “Not happy,” Stoker scoffed as he walked closer. “You drove me insane for months, pushing me to join the smokejumping team. You wouldn’t leave it alone. Hell, you even called me at night to remind me to talk to Captain Phillips. Remember that at all?”

  “I do and you’re a fantastic team member.”

  “So are you. What is going on with you? You’re acting weird as shit lately.”

  Garcia remained quiet as he measured out coffee, then turned it on. He remained where he was, glaring out the kitchen window. “I don’t have the same drive that you do. I’m tired.”

  “Did I just drop onto another planet?” Stoker laughed then leaned over the kitchen island. “Garcia, we all have doubts and not just in this profession. Everyone questions their decisions from time to time. A man died yesterday. I understand that you’re questioning what in the hell is going on, but don’t quit. That’s not the way to handle this, man. Grief is—”

  “This isn’t about grief.” Garcia finally turned in his direction. “Don’t get me wrong. The fact Jimmy Martin is dead because of some government flunky making a stupid decision to save the county money pissed me off. But I’m just questioning what and why. I can’t explain it right now. Okay? Just leave me alone.”

  “I’m not leaving this alone. You’re too good to throw away your career,” Stoker countered.

  “Well, that might not matter come Tuesday.” Exhaling, he kept his eyes wide open.

  “Captain Phillips told me. You don’t know that’s going to happen at that meeting. None of us do. Hell, maybe the mayor doesn’t. What I do know is that we go down fighting. We can’t pull back because of concern. You know that.”

  “What I know is that I’m not certain I can be effective any longer.”

  “What’s really driving this?”

  Garcia rubbed his eyes and glared at the coffee maker. “I don’t know. My dad’s been ill the last few weeks. He’s not getting any better and the stubborn asshole won’t go and see a specialist.”

  “Sounds like someone I know.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I guess. The worst part is, he and my mom broke up. They didn’t even call and tell me. I asked to speak to Mom and Dad said she was living in another city. I mean, really?”

  “That happens. Your parents were married a long time.” Stoker inched even closer. “This has nothing to do with your paren
ts. Not really. Laney?”

  Garcia leaned against the counter. “That’s part of this. I just…”

  “You’re in love with her. Right?”

  The concept, no doubt, sounded ridiculous, but he’d known from the first time he saw her, all fire and brimstone when he tried to help her. “I think I am.”

  “Oh, you got it bad,” Stoker teased. “Have you told her?”

  “Last night.” He could feel the heat creeping up, leaving him sweating.

  “Wow, haven’t seen that kind of reaction ever before. Well, no wonder you’re out of sorts. You sound just like me when I did everything to push Jessica away.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “That did a world of good. How’s the wedding plans?”

  “Don’t remind me! But I do need my friend’s help, you know, best man and all. February fourteenth of all days.” Stoker’s eyes twinkled.

  “Valentine’s Day? A little too romantic for me.”

  Stoker shrugged. “She wants to do this before she gets any larger from the baby and I suspect before she has to go out on tour.”

  “You’re letting her go on tour?” Garcia had to admit, he was shocked.

  “I might be the head of household, but we’ve come to a compromise. I get to keep my job if she can do hers.”

  Both men burst into laughter. “You’re lucky you have her.” Garcia heard the strangled sound of his voice.

  “If Laney is really the one, you’ll know, and she’ll walk by your side.” Stoker hissed. “Dear God. I sound like a Hallmark card.”

  “You need more guy time, swigging back tequila shots.”

  “That I do,” Stoker grinned and an awkward silence settled in. “Look, take a couple of days to yourself. You can be in love and do this job. It’s not always easy and yes, you’re going to have arguments. She’ll have difficulty, just like Jessica does, sharing you with anyone, especially fire, but if you truly love each other, you’ll find a way. She has a job.” When Garcia remained quiet, he inched closer. “What’s wrong? I know that look on your face.”