by Cassie Cole
“And the future,” I quickly said. “I hope there’s a future you care about…?”
He smiled. “There is.”
We didn’t sleep together that night. None of us did, nor the next two nights. We had to be on our best behavior thanks to the arrival of the Forest Service heads from Washington the next morning. They arrived in a special Forest Service plane emblazoned with the department logo in green and yellow, and walked across the tarmac wearing suits instead of Forestry uniforms.
The next day was tense as they conducted a formal investigation. Evidence was gathered and interviews were made. When it was my turn to meet with them in the conference room, I told them everything I knew. It didn’t take long.
All the jumpers gathered in the common room afterwards. For many of us, it was the first time we’d seen each other since before the previous mission. Several jumpers came up to us and shook our hands.
“Can’t believe what happened,” Brinkley said. “Absolutely disgusting the way they treated you.”
“You guys are alright. To take all of that and never complain…” Cortez muttered.
“Wish I would’ve known,” Markson said. “We would’ve stuck up for you.”
I smiled and accepted their words of encouragement. It was good to hear that everyone was finally on our side. Derek especially seemed grateful to not be alone in his suspicions.
Trace was the last person interviewed. When he finally emerged from the conference room he looked crushed.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, boss,” Foxy told him.
“Don’t call me boss,” he snapped, more heated than normal.
Foxy held his hands up in the universal symbol for: woah, sorry dude.
I put a hand on Trace’s muscular arm. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Trace turned to me, and I could see the horror in his eyes. Something was very wrong.
One of the Forest Service officers from Washington emerged from the conference room. “May I have your attention?” she asked, clearing her throat. Her hair was tied back in a bun, which pulled her face so tight she didn’t have any wrinkles, despite being in her seventies.
I glanced at Trace and wondered what we were about to learn.
“As many of you are no doubt aware, we have had some drama here at Redding Base,” she explained. “We have completed our interviews, and have gathered significant evidence. But more evidence has yet to be collected. All in all, it may be months before the investigation is complete and we have concrete answers. I ask you to please be patient during this time.”
“Is that it?” I whispered to Trace. “They’re burying the investigation?”
Trace shook his head. He looked like he was in shock.
“What we do know,” the officer said, “is that interim Commander Wallace was abusing his power over one, or multiple, of the smokejumpers here. Attempting to exert pressure on individuals in order to cause harm or damage to valuable Forest Service personnel and equipment. As of this time, Commander Wallace has been removed from his position and will be stripped of all responsibilities in the Forest Service. A public statement will be made by the department this afternoon.”
The smokejumpers in the room began chatting excitedly. They’re not burying the investigation! Wallace would answer for what he had done.
“Once our statement is released, Redding Base may be inundated with reporters. You are free to speak with them. But try to keep your answers vague, without giving too many details. We don’t want the story to get out of control before we can interview Wallace’s other colleagues at McCall and elsewhere.”
“Bring back Commander Callaway!” Brinkley shouted. Others voiced their agreement.
The officer smiled curtly. “Commander Callaway will be accepting the vacant position at McCall Smokejumping School. Your interim commander will be Trace Donaldson.”
There was a brief silence, then everyone started cheering and clapping.
“Trace!” I exclaimed. “That is what you were horrified about?”
Trace was being pummeled with high-fives and shoulder-slap. “They want me to run the base.” He looked like he was going to be sick.
“Interim Commander,” Derek said.
Foxy grinned widely. “I get to call you boss unironically now!”
Trace looked miserable as he accepted congratulations from everyone.
The next two days were a whirlwind of activity. Trace remained locked in the Commander’s office—his office—around the clock with the Forest Service officers, presumably going over all of his responsibilities and expectations. All jumps were halted for the time being. The Shasta Wildfire was reaching the west end of the valley, where the hotshots on the ground could take over without help from the sky.
But that didn’t mean we got a vacation. The mismanagement by Wallace in his forty-eight hours as commander, and the frenzied pace of jumping prior to that, had left the Redding supplies and equipment in a sorry state. We spent two straight days doing a physical inventory on everything in the base. Every chainsaw, Pulaski or McLeod tool, and gas canister. Each fire shelter, water canteen, and emergency flare. Counting, double-checking, repairing damaged equipment, and then ordering replacements.
On the third day, the Forest Service executives finally departed for Washington, content that Redding Base was in good hands. Trace’s first order as commander was to meet with every jumper individually in his office. Our team was one of the last ones scheduled, and Trace had us go inside one at a time.
Foxy’s meeting was over in a few minutes, but Derek was inside for close to half an hour. When he finally emerged, there were tears in his eyes.
He was literally weeping.
“Derek!” I threw my arms around him. “What’s wrong? What did Trace say to you?”
“Nothing,” he insisted, faking a smile. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” I glared at Trace’s office door. “If he has already let his power go to his head…”
Derek waved a hand. “I’ll tell you later. I promise.”
I hesitated, then went inside the office and closed the door behind me.
“Haley Hinch, last but not least.” Trace was seated in the big leather chair behind the desk. Despite the chair’s massive size, he filled every bit of it and managed to make it look small. He gestured at the smaller guest chair across from him. “Please take a seat.”
“What the hell did you say to Derek!”
Trace frowned, then smiled. “That’s between me and Derek.”
“Like hell it is,” I growled, leaning forward to stab a finger at my lover-slash-boss. “If you don’t tell me what you said, I’m… I’m going to…”
Trace arched an eyebrow. “You’re going to what?”
“I don’t know what,” I said exasperatedly. “So you’d better tell me!”
He chuckled, then reached into a drawer. He tossed a stack of papers on the desk.
“Word traveled fast of my promotion,” he explained. “An old buddy I worked with at Missoula Base emailed me to ask about all the drama. I called to tell him what had happened—everything with Wallace, and Derek, and how it affected our work here. Well, my buddy was an old Army Ranger before joining the Forest Service. He knew a guy, who was bunkmates with another dude, who owed a favor to an Army Colonel who was overseeing a Ranger battalion in Syria. The same one Derek was in.”
He gestured at the papers on the table.
“Those are the records related to the investigation of the disappearance of Private First Class Henry Wallace. He wasn’t left behind due to a head-count error by Derek or any of the other unit leaders. Henry Wallace disobeyed orders and went into a warehouse by himself to track down a suspicious person. There, he was ambushed and killed by pro-Assad members of the Syrian National Defense Force. He was dead long before the evacuation.”
I scanned the papers. “He wasn’t left for dead. Derek wasn’t responsible!”
“There was still a SNAFU with the h
ead-count, which should have tipped off the Rangers before they left,” Trace admitted. “But it wouldn’t have mattered. Commander Wallace’s son was dead either way.”
That’s why Derek was crying. He was absolved for his mistake. They were tears of joy!
I put the papers back down. “Trace, this is amazing. Even though Derek said he was moving beyond the mistakes of the past, I’m sure it meant a lot to learn the truth.”
“It did,” Trace agreed. “Now that you’re done threatening me, can we begin our one-on-one meeting?”
“Yes,” I said timidly.
“One of the things Callaway recommended was to get some face-time with everyone in the base. Yeah, I already know everybody, but it’s different now that I’m temporarily in charge. I’ve been telling everyone what I have planned, and asking them what they care about.”
He gestured. “That’s not why I brought you in here, though.”
“Oh?” I bit my lip. “Do you intend to bend me over the desk and show me who’s boss?”
I meant it half-jokingly, half-seriously. The thought of being ravaged by Trace right now, on top of the commander’s desk, made my lady-parts tingle.
Trace smiled at my suggestion, but out of politeness rather than lust.
“I want to talk about you and me. Our relationship. Haley, we were allowed to be together when we were on the same team. I was just a team lead, not a direct superior. But now that I’m in charge of the base…”
Oh.
Oh no.
“I see,” I managed to choke out.
“Redding Base is going to be under a lot of scrutiny for the next few weeks,” he explained. He looked as unhappy to say it as I was to hear it. “The investigation of Wallace for his abuses of power are going to be all over the news. If someone saw that I had… or that I was… you know…”
“You can’t be with me,” I whispered. “You’re dumping me. I understand.”
He struck out a hand toward me longingly. “No! Absolutely not. We just need to keep things quiet for a little while. I’m only the interim commander. They will have a replacement selected and sent here soon enough. Someone with experience. As soon as that happens, we can resume things.”
A lump had formed in my throat that I couldn’t swallow. “Are you sure you want to resume things?”
Trace’s eyes widened. “Haley…”
“I’m serious. This is a convenient excuse to end things, if you want it to be. Tell me the truth.”
He rose from his chair and rounded the desk, then sat on the edge. He pulled me up into his caring, powerful arms, and then he gazed deeply into my eyes with more love and warmth than I’d ever seen from the man.
“I care about you more than anything else at this base. I refused the promotion when they offered it to me, because I knew it would mean I couldn’t be with you. Only when they convinced me that it would be temporary did I accept it.”
I felt my lip quivering. I didn’t care. “Is that true? You would turn down the position just for me?”
“Haley. We haven’t been together long, but I feel things for you that I’ve never felt before. It’s crazy, but I talked to Foxy and Derek, and they feel the same way. I adore you, Haley Hinch. I want to be with you as long as you’ll have me.”
“Except for the next few weeks,” I pointed out.
“Right. Just a short hiatus.” He smiled. “Besides. I told you I’m not cut out for management. I’d choose you over this job any day of the week.”
He kissed me, and his lips convinced me that everything he said was true.
“As long as it’s short-term,” I said. “Just a few weeks. I don’t think I can wait much longer than that.”
“I’m sure Foxy and Derek will keep you plenty busy,” he said, punctuating it with a rumbling laugh. “But I promise this is just a temporary thing. One month. Two, tops.”
“We’ll see.” I ran my hand over his chest. “Is that the end of our meeting, sir?”
He grinned deeply. “I have more to discuss with you, Smokejumper Hinch.”
He wrapped me in his arms and kissed me some more.
I can wait a few weeks, I thought while we made out in the commander’s office.
Epilogue
Haley
“Happy anniversary Commander Donaldson,” everyone sang together in the mess. “Happy anniversary to youuuuuuuu.”
We were crammed around one of the tables, where Trace was seated in front of a huge sheet cake. It was fudge-chocolate frosting—Trace’s favorite, I now knew—with white frosting spelling out HAPPY TWO-YEAR ANNIVERSARY on the top.
“Why are there candles?” Trace demanded. “This isn’t a birthday.”
“Candles make everything better!” Brinkley shouted.
“Two years as your commander isn’t a noteworthy anniversary, either…”
“Shut up and blow out the candles, sir, so we can eat!” Cortez yelled.
Trace made a show of grumbling about it, but finally he blew out the candles in a long, sweeping puff. Everyone clapped and cheered, and Trace stood up and raised his hands to calm them down.
“I’m just the interim commander. I’m sure they’ll be replacing me with someone more competent any day now.”
“We don’t want competent!” Foxy yelled. “We want you!”
Everyone laughed. It was a running joke among the base that Trace was still our interim commander, despite the Forest Service Headquarters stating that they had no plans to replace him. It was kind of like how North and South Korea were still technically at war.
“Did you make a wish?” I asked.
“Don’t say it out loud,” Derek scolded, “or it won’t come true!”
Trace made his face into a mask of seriousness. “My wish was for zero wildfires.” He picked up his tablet computer from the table and held it up to show a real-time map of all the current fires and hot-spots in Northern California. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like my wish has come true.”
“Too bad!” someone shouted. “Guess we all still have jobs!”
All joking aside, the current wildfire status in California wasn’t bad. Some fires were natural and to be expected, and the ones we had had were mild. Nothing like the Shasta Wildfire from two years ago. We still made jumps every week or two, shoring up the fire roads deep in the mountains whenever the hotshots on the ground needed help, or couldn’t easily reach an area. A normal smokejumper schedule, rather than the crazy every-two-days jump schedule we had when I first arrived here.
And I loved every minute of it.
While the others cut the cake, I smiled at Commander Donaldson. I still thought of him as Trace deep down, but we had to keep up appearances when we were around the rest of the jumpers. He grinned and shook hands with people, exchanging jokes and small talk. He caught me looking at him, and gave me a quick wink.
I giggled and turned away. Even now, after two years, a simple wink from him could make me blush like a schoolgirl.
Foxy draped one of his lanky arms over my shoulder. “Think we ought to give Commander Donaldson a two-year anniversary present tonight?” he whispered.
“I’ve been thinking of exactly that.”
Foxy gazed down at me. “Oh? Like what?”
I smiled. “That’s for Trace to find out.”
“What! Derek and I aren’t invited?”
“Today’s Trace’s special day,” I said. “You can get some special fun when it’s your anniversary.”
He pursed his lips in an adorable pout.
“Hey, the bus just arrived!” Brinkley yelled when we were all eating cake. “They’re here!”
Trace put down his plate. “Alright everyone. These are the first new recruits we’ve received in two years. I want you all to go easy on them. Treat them like your brothers and sisters.”
“But I hate my brother, sir!” Derek said. Everyone laughed, Trace included.
“You know what I’m saying. Make sure they can handle themselves, but don’t go over
board with the hazing.”
“If you say so,” Cortez said, but I saw him and another jumper elbowing each other and grinning.
Hazing new recruits. Some habits never die.
“It felt like just yesterday we were the ones getting the cold shoulder,” I told Foxy.
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he replied with a straight face. I elbowed him in the ribs.
The recruits filed in the front door, ruck sacks hefted over their shoulders. The first three guys who entered looked like they were too young to shave, and were still lean with muscle.
“They’re babies!” I whispered.
“Did we look that young when we got here?” Foxy asked.
“You did, baby face,” Derek teased.
“Hey!”
“He’s not wrong.” I pinched Foxy’s cheek. “But you’re our baby face.”
Foxy, Derek, and I were still together. In fact, my relationship with the two chiseled smokejumpers was stronger than ever. Our entire lives conjoined in every way: we ate together, slept together, relaxed together, and then jumped out of planes and fought fires together. We were a team in the truest sense of the word. I trusted them, and they me.
None of us had talked about the future, but I knew we would be together for a long time.
Forever, whispered a confident voice in my head. I smiled as Derek continued teasing Foxy about his baby face.
The final recruit that came through the door was a young woman. Her auburn hair was in a pixie cut, with the right side of her head shaved completely. She tried to look tough, but I recognized her wide-eyed nervousness as she gazed around the room.
“Welcome to Redding Base,” Trace said while shaking their hands. “Please help yourselves to some cake, and then I’ll give you the tour…”
As soon as Trace disappeared, Ramirez stood in front of the table to block their path. “Cake’s for veterans. If y’all are hungry, we can get you some Gerber baby food.”
“Mashed peas,” Cortez said, rubbing his tummy. “Mmm.”
The rookies laughed it off and tried to make small talk, but were given a healthy dose of teasing and jabs. All in all, the hazing was light and better than any that I had to deal with back in my day.
