I’m on my way with a couple of other guys—we’re dropping into the camp. Don’t worry, Liza, I’ll be there.
She’d replayed Conner’s voice mail message three times, finding herself leaning dangerously into his warm, husky baritone.
So, maybe not entirely trouble—because Conner’s superpower was dropping in, saving the day. No, trouble arrived in the aftermath, in the dust kicked up by his arrival, the fact that, inevitably, she couldn’t stop herself from longing to be in his world.
Which meant that despite her best intentions, she would start holding on, looking for promises, and in short, inadvertently insinuating—forcing—herself into his life.
Which would only leave poor Conner to figure out how to disentangle himself from her grip.
We’ll see. We’ll just take each day as it comes. I can’t make any promises.
No promises—in fact, he’d never made her any promises, something she’d spent nearly her entire adult life telling herself she didn’t need.
Until Conner.
However, she had, with general success, spent the last year flushing him out of her system, reminding herself that she didn’t need him—or anyone, really. Their kiss had simply been a misunderstanding, caused by the cascade of the glorious rose-gold sunset, making her see something on the horizon that wasn’t there. Something he hadn’t intended her to conjure up.
The fact that he took her call and was coming to her rescue said that, frankly, he was more of a real friend to her than she’d been to him.
Because she hadn’t taken his calls since she’d packed her bags and headed back to Minnesota.
“Why are you staring at the sky?” Skye was walking over to her through the grassy athletic field. She wore a running shirt and a pair of water-wicking cargo pants, her long blonde hair pulled back into two Laura-Ingalls braids secured with a bandanna, the quintessential trail guide.
The girl belonged in a magazine, with her slim curves, toned body, and her pretty aqua-gray eyes. A backpack hung over her shoulder, filled with first aid equipment. She was clearly ready to trek out with a search party as soon as the rangers arrived.
Thanks to Liza’s grizzly sighting, John refused to let the campers leave the grounds—despite Dr. Billings’s outrage—without an armed cadre of rangers.
Never mind that Esther—and Shep—might be bleeding to death on the mountain.
Please, Conner, hurry.
“My friend Conner is jumping in with a couple of buddies to help lead the search.”
Skye cupped a hand over her eyes, staring at the same clear blue sky. “Jumping—as in skydiving?”
“Mmmhmm. He’s with the Jude County Smokejumpers, out of Ember. I was just lucky to catch him in between fires.”
“A firefighter,” Skye said, something of curiosity in her voice. “We had a big fire in Colorado when I was thirteen—our church fed a bunch of hotshots who were working in Glenwood Springs.”
“I met Conner while he was working a blowup in Minnesota about three years ago.”
In fact, it seemed to Liza that she always found herself staring up into the sky, hoping Conner might drop into her life. Not always literally, like now, but at least metaphorically, ever since the moment she’d brought him donuts.
It would behoove her to remember exactly who Conner Young was. Because after she’d patched up her broken heart, she’d finally figured him out. Despite his smile and, frankly, his faith, Conner was like every other man she’d known...here today, gone tomorrow. And, really, hadn’t he warned her of that? A guy like me.
After they found Esther, she’d stand back, wave good-bye.
Let him walk out of her life without a backwards glance.
And most definitely not allow herself to dream up a happy ending with a guy who just wasn’t that into her. Didn’t have room for her in his nomad life.
Even if he was falling out of the sky like Superman—
“I hear a plane,” Skye said, and Liza scanned the sky until she found the small plane, white against the blue vault.
It buzzed high overhead then circled, and she caught her breath when from it dropped a jumper, then two more.
Chutes opened and they began to drift down.
“Cool,” Skye said. “I’ve always wanted to jump out of a plane.”
“He took me up once,” Liza said, her hand still cupped over her eyes. “I asked him what it was like to jump fire, and he decided to show me. We jumped tandem.”
Skye looked at her. “Wow, seriously?”
Liza nodded, easily remembering the way he’d suited her up nearly a year ago, in Arizona. Remembered the feel of him checking her straps, his strong hands fixing her harness. Listen, when we get up there, it’ll be too loud to really hear, but I’m going to strap you to the front of me. When we jump, open your arms and legs as if you’re flying. We’ll fall for about seven seconds, then I’ll tap your shoulder, and you’ll know to bring your arms in. I’ll hang onto your legs and deploy the chute. Then, it’s just us, drifting down to earth.
Just us.
She could still sense him behind her, powerful, his arm curled around her waist as they maneuvered toward the open door of the plane, the slipstream whipping against her, trying to pry her from his grip.
Not a chance. She held onto him for dear life.
That high up—four thousand feet, he’d told her later—the earth seemed a canvas, the cars matchbox in size, the houses Lincoln Logs. And, with his hands on her shoulders, the fear dropped away.
“Ready?”
She’d heard his voice above the buzz of the plane, the urge to fly swelling inside her.
She pushed out—dove, really—into nothing. Into blue sky and cool air and the sense that she could simply let go.
After all, Superman had her.
“Yeah,” Liza said to Skye, watching the trio angle their rectangular chutes toward the field. “It was...well, like flying. Freedom, and of course, I was connected to Conner, so I wasn’t afraid.”
“Really?”
“Not at all. I knew that he wasn’t going to let me drop, and so I just threw my arms out, enjoyed the ride.”
Enjoyed the feeling of his strong body pinned to hers, being connected to him as they shared the glorious panorama.
“He hitched a ride with a pilot friend so we could jump near the Grand Canyon, and it was simply glorious to see the layers of earth, the way the canyon carves through the land. It’s impressive from the ground, but from the air—it’s absolutely breathtaking.”
“I wonder what it feels like to jump into a fire,” Skye said.
Liza tried not to think about the fact that, most of the time when Conner jumped, it was into flames three-stories high, into a world that could incinerate him with one unlucky gust of wind before he hit the ground.
“Conner says that sometimes they can feel the heat—depending on how big the fire is—from the plane. And of course, there’s always the danger of being blown into the fire—”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, of course. But they have training on how to steer into the wind and—see.” She pointed to one of the jumpers. “He’s out over the valley but has caught the wind and is using his steering toggles to bring him back in. It doesn’t always work, though. Sometimes they can get blown way off course. One of Conner’s buddies got caught in a tree one time and broke his leg.”
No wonder Conner had started to call her after escaping the flames. Wrung out, needing to decompress.
He needed that friend she said she’d be.
She didn’t blame him, really, for reaching out.
“I didn’t know firefighters do search and rescue.”
“Not always, but yes, sometimes, if they’re needed. Most of the smokejumpers have first-responder skills, and a few are EMTs.” Her gaze tracked the closest one coming in. He wore a brown jumpsuit designed with deep leg pockets for his letdown rope, a high collar, and a gridded mask. His gloved hands drove the toggles, steering him to the mid
dle of the field.
He dropped, then rolled, cushioning the landing across his body. Then he popped up and gathered in his chute.
“Wow. That was...smooth,” Skye said, appreciation in her voice.
Liza glanced at her, and something pinched in her chest.
Skye, at twenty-one, might be a little young for Conner, but if he was looking for someone who would turn shiny eyes on him, swoon the minute he walked into the room—well, Skye might be the perfect candidate.
Because no way, no how, was Liza going to let herself fall into that place again. Not that she’d meant to the first time—she’d just suddenly found herself there, whispering her fatal words.
What next?
Which, in retrospect, she’d sounded so desperately needy she just wanted to cringe. She had to walk away to save her own shattered pride.
“They practice that landing until they get it perfect,” Liza said.
And then, as the two other sky jockeys landed in their own acrobatic rolls, the first man took off his helmet.
Golden sunshine on his blond hair, longer than before, but tousled, as if he’d been in a hurry to get to her.
Right. Down, girl.
But there stood Conner Young, looking every inch the superhero she’d built in her mind.
Oh boy.
Conner dropped the helmet and unhooked his harness, stepping out of it. Then he unzipped his jumpsuit, peeling it off.
Liza had already started toward him across the field, her heart pounding.
He’d bulked up since she’d last seen him. As he folded up his parachute, his thickened arms stretched out the sleeves of his T-shirt, which smoothed against the sculpted planes of his chest, his washboard torso. A sharp, delicious jolt of memory sluiced through her—the smell of him, cotton and soap and strength, as she’d leaned back against him, her body tucked into his embrace, his powerful legs alongside hers. His voice in her ear, husky, sweet, his arms locked around her as they watched the sunset.
Not unlike skydiving.
He turned, searching, and she felt it the moment he spotted her, a sort of forbidden thrill rocketing through her body as his blue eyes connected with hers.
A beat passed between them, and her heart dropped.
She shouldn’t have called him. Because whatever memory she might have, he probably remembered a woman who clung too tightly. Whose imagination shattered their easy, sweet friendship, and who, at the first sign of danger—okay, a big, hairy, grizzly-sized sign of danger, with razor sharp teeth and a feral breath—called him to save her.
Still needy. Forcing herself back into his life.
Liza cleared her throat, scouring up her voice. “Thanks for—”
“Oh, thank God, you’re safe.” Conner dropped the chute, came toward her, his arms outstretched. “You have no idea how you scared me!”
He pulled her against himself. Hard, holding her—no, clinging to her—and if she wasn’t mistaken, he just might be trembling a little.
As if—
She put her arms around his neck and let herself hold on, burying her face into his amazing Superman shoulders.
Because if Conner was good at anything, it was saving the day.
Even if trouble had dropped right out of the sky.
#
If it had been up to him, Conner might have run toward the grizzly instead of back to the chaos and panic of Camp Blue Sky.
He stood in the middle of the mess hall, surrounded by a knot of angry parents, map spread open on the planks of the picnic table in front of him, listening to the camp pastor, Beck, and Liza speculate on the trails Esther might have taken.
“I told her we would go here up to the overlook,” Liza said, pointing out the Pine Ridge trail, a fairly well-traveled path that cut up along the north fork of the Bull River and offered spectacular views of Snowshoe Peak. “There’s a path that cuts through camp and hooks into the route here.” She traced the path with her pretty finger. Those same fingers that had woven into his as they’d sat watching the sunset in Arizona. Held onto him as they’d kissed, the last time his world felt whole and right.
He should stop right there and get his mind back on the route and the fact that there were not one but two kids lost in the woods.
But his brain still tangled on the way Liza had clung to him out in the field as if she honestly had missed him, and it had his thoughts dissected. Centered on the way that, for a second, she actually looked afraid of him. As if he’d done the leaving.
Done the heart breaking.
Left her bereft and afraid of letting him too close, back into her life.
Or perhaps she simply reflected the look in his own eyes, the sense that when he saw her standing there, dressed in a pair of cargo pants and a pink T-shirt, she looked exactly like she had the day she’d delivered him donuts, friendship, and a crazy glimpse of a happy ending he’d longed for way too much.
He simply couldn’t help himself and gave into the panic, the urge to grab her up and hold her to himself.
Regardless of what it might cost his heart later.
“I still can’t believe you would tell a fifteen-year-old girl to sneak off into the woods with a boy!”
This from a woman Liza had identified as Esther’s mother, Donna. Conner looked for an accompanying worried father, but no one stepped forward.
“I didn’t tell her to sneak off,” Liza said quietly. “She was upset over Shep. I told her it would help for her to put him out of her head, find a new perspective, and the plan was to go together.”
Conner wasn’t prepared for the way her words reached in and grabbed hold of his heart, squeezed. Is that what she’d done? Put him out of her head?
“Shep is a good boy.” These words came from a petite blonde. She must have seen the inquiry as to her identity on his face. “Allison Billings, and trust me, Mr.—”
“Conner.”
The glance she shot Liza would probably turn a lesser woman to ash. “Trust me, he wasn’t interested in Esther. I would have known. They were friends, nothing more.”
Liza’s jaw tightened. “Right. Well, regardless, they’re lost together, so—”
“Are you sure they headed up the path and not down?” Conner asked before he did something crazy like throw both Allison Billings and Donna from the building.
He wasn’t a fool, even if Allison and Donna wanted to live in denial.
If Shep had sneaked away with Esther, he was most certainly interested in her. “Has anyone ascertained whether the jacket was Shep’s or Esther’s?”
Liza had briefed him on the details as he’d packed his jump gear, left it in the field with Pete’ and CJ’s, and hiked to the camp. Pete manned the radio outside, tracking down the rangers who were still en route. Good call to contact Gilly, and he owed Jed for covering for him, even if it did make him feel like a fugitive.
Better a fugitive than locked in some office answering questions he didn’t know the answers to.
“It’s not Esther’s,” Donna said. “I checked her belongings—her jacket was in her bag.” She put a hand to her mouth. “I hope she won’t freeze to death.”
“It’s nearly eighty degrees and the temp is rising out there, ma’am,” CJ said in his Montana drawl. Their token fresh-off-the-ranch rookie smokejumper only looked like a fireman in his yellow shirt, his green Nomex pants. Under his uniform, he had the hardy common sense and easy get ‘er-done spirit of a Montana bull rider. Conner half expected to see a Stetson over his dirty blond hair. Dependable and sturdy, CJ didn’t spook easily.
But Conner could have strangled him when CJ smiled and added, “But don’t you worry. We’ll find her before night settles in, I promise.”
The last thing they could give these people were promises.
“I think we need to send a group of searchers down the trail. CJ, you and Skye can head up that group.”
Skye, Liza’s pretty blonde friend, looked over at CJ, flashing a smile that had warning flares firing. But he didn�
��t have time to lecture CJ on the perils of falling for a woman during fire season.
Or the delights.
Shoot—and there he went again, his mind drifting back to Liza, the memory of her voice on the other end of the phone, sweet laughter or murmurs of empathy deep into the night when he’d crawled back to his trailer, wrung out, lonely.
For a while, dialing her number seemed the only pinprick of light in his dark, overwhelming world.
“I saw the bear here,” Liza said, her brown hair caught back in a long ponytail at the nape of her neck. He had the inappropriate urge to loosen it and let her hair run through his fingers, and for crying out loud, Conner, get your head back in the game.
“Where was the tree you climbed?” he asked.
“Uh—” She looked up at him, shook her head. “I don’t exactly know. Maybe a half-mile away?”
“Okay. I’m going to head up the trail, see if I can find anything. Pete will wait here for the rangers, and as soon as they show up, they’ll follow me.” He handed John a walkie, CJ another one. “Both of you, keep us informed of your position, and please, if you see the grizzly, back away quietly, stay still if you have to. The last thing you should do is run.”
He looked pointedly at Liza.
She narrowed her eyes. “Listen, it worked, okay? And by the way, I’m going with you.”
“No—actually, you’re not.”
Her eyes widened, argument gathering in the deep brown.
“She might not be, but I am.”
Conner’s gaze locked on the man standing behind Mrs. Billings, his hands on her shoulders. Well groomed, close-cropped dark hair, lean and sturdy, and a spark of fury in his dark eyes.
Oh great. “You’re Shep’s dad?”
“Dr. Blake Billings, and if anyone is going after my son, it’s me. I would have done it earlier, but John demanded we wait.”
Conner tried that one on for size and decided to let it go. If Conner’s son was lost in the woods, possibly a victim of a grizzly attack, it would take more than an army of Becks, despite the man’s seeming sturdiness, to stop him from bringing his boy home.
Playing With Fire: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 2) Page 9
