Tempt the Flames (The Smokejumpers)

by Marnee Blake

  Her eyes shifted to the others in the club. She’d run here, to Bend, after college, because she needed a job. At least that’s what she told herself. But, maybe she’d run from her family in Redmond, from all the ways they’d weighed on her. Had she realized her mother was faltering in Redmond? Yeah. Not to the extent she’d found recently, for sure. Back then, she believed if she left, maybe her mother would take some initiative to take control of her life and stop relying on Meg to do it for her.

  Propping her chin in her hand, she wondered if that was true, or if she’d left Redmond because it was easier. She’d become a physician’s assistant because, like the rest of the Buchanans, she wanted to help people.

  But working here was easy. Anyone with her degree could do her job. The smokejumpers…every time they went up in that plane, they risked themselves for others. They saved both property and lives. Working with them was more rewarding than anything else she’d ever done.

  Sitting in this hip bar populated with other young health professionals, she could see her life play out. Find and marry one of the well-dressed men in her field, someone else who helped people. Maybe even someone who came here. Keep working for Dr. Colman. Have children.

  It was a solid plan. It was a lot like many other women’s plans. She should be happy with it. It could be enough.

  Except… those years in front of her, they were dull, completely boring. Would she always wonder what would have happened if she’d chosen a different path? A path more like her brothers?

  She was doing meaningful work. Helping others, being a physician’s assistant, it was important. She saved lives, if not directly, she sent people to specialists who could save them. It might not be as flashy as the work her brothers and Lance did, but it was good work. Important work.

  Glancing at her drink, she smirked. Who was she kidding? There was no comparison. Her life in Bend didn’t fill the void.

  She belonged in Redmond.

  What had happened? A month ago, she’d been happy. Or she’d believed she was happy. Then, Lance came back into her life and suddenly nothing felt as shiny. Was it him? Was he the reason for this sudden dissatisfaction with her job, with her life?

  He’d stood in front of her yesterday and lied to her.

  There was something between them. She could feel it and he admitted it. He’d said there couldn’t be anything between them, but he didn’t get it; there was already something there. Even thinking of him now, a shiver coursed along her spine. With his gray eyes and his intense gaze, the way his stare seemed to look inside her…she’d chalked her memories of Lance up to a teenage crush. Except it wasn’t only girlish emotion. She witnessed how hard he worked, and she watched firsthand how considerate he was. The way he listened so intently, hearing her meaning and not only her words.

  As an adult, she recognized how important and rare that was, and it made him even sexier to her. This man…he was more than the boy he’d been—better—and she found him irresistible.

  She might pretend she could find that connection anywhere, that one of the men in this bar would give that to her, but she knew better. She never felt the same for another man.

  Unfairly, her thoughts strayed to Shawn, the doctor she had been seeing. He was nice enough. In fact, he was a catch. Lots of other girls in the hospital would kill to date him. But he paled in comparison to Lance.

  Everyone did.

  He was hiding something. Whatever it was, it had been enough for him to push her away. Her mind strayed to the slashed chute. What was going on?

  She didn’t know the answer to that. But she was going to find out.

  The bar’s walls felt too close around her. It was time to leave.

  She swiped her phone from the table and dropped it in her bag. Reaching in, she snagged her wallet and retrieved the two twenties she’d slipped there earlier. Dropping them on the table, she pushed back and stood up.

  “Where are you going?” Charlie asked, setting her martini on the table. A pang of guilt seized her gut. She’d been the one to organize tonight’s get-together. Leaving early was poor form.

  “Sorry girls,” Meg said. “I’m tired, and I have an early day tomorrow. I should really get going.” She pulled her cardigan off the back of her chair and draped it over her arm.

  “But we were going to get dessert.” Confusion clouded Charlie’s face. Meg never skipped dessert, said it was the one benefit of running as much as she did. She never had to pass on sweets.

  “I left a little extra. Dessert’s on me.” She gave a little wave. “I’ll see you guys soon. Maybe a movie next week?”

  Olivia wiggled her fingers at her. “Sounds good. And I want to hear more about sexy jumper bods. You can’t keep that stuff to yourself.”

  Meg laughed. “I’ll come with lots of details. Promise.”

  As she slipped out of the bar, she noticed a few appreciative glances, even from some handsome, well-dressed guys. None of those men did anything for her. The only one she could think of had expressive gray eyes and a need to jump out of a plane to fight wildfires.

  A glance at her phone said it was nearly midnight. She couldn’t see Lance tonight. He had his first jump in the morning and she’d been drinking. She wasn’t leaving Bend. But, tomorrow, after his training jump, they would talk. She was going to get answers.

  Getting involved with Lance would be complicated. Professionally, this was a horrible idea. But it wasn’t only that she was his trainer. It was her family, it was their history, and it was his future as a smokejumper…all of it. The whole package was dangerous.

  Even as she debated, she worried there wasn’t anything left to debate. It was like they were two trains on the same track, heading toward one another. It felt inevitable that they would crash.

  And just as unavoidable.

  Outside, keys in hand, she walked the two blocks to her downtown apartment. She slipped in, but was struck by the stark reality that there was nothing here for her.

  If her desire to prove she was tough enough to be a smokejumper had driven her to Redmond, the purpose and fulfillment she’d found as a trainer at the air center was what would keep her there. Besides, her mom, the twins? They needed her.

  For once, that didn’t feel like such a heavy weight.

  Chapter 11

  The morning of Lance’s first jump dawned sunny and cold.

  As the new recruits gathered their things and packed their gear into the many pockets of their jumpsuits, the tension was thick in the air.

  They’d spent hours, days, preparing for this jump. They’d gone over the logistics of exiting the plane, they’d packed and unpacked dozens of parachutes. They practiced call signs and instructions…they were ready.

  This wasn’t the first time Lance had jumped out of a plane. He’d gone sky diving lots of times. He loved all of it. Base jumping, bungee jumping, skydiving…it all fed his need for adrenaline. The rush. On land, there were only so many ways to get that feeling. He loved to ski and surf, but nothing beat the pure thrill of falling through the air, heading for the ground faster than a speeding car.

  As he fastened the last buckles on his suit, he caught a glimpse of Rock standing next to him. His skin was a little green. The last thing he wanted was the guy to puke on him when they were at fifteen thousand feet. “You okay?”

  “Sure. Never better.” Beads of sweat trickled along his temple.

  “It’s going to be fine. Standard jump. Nothing fancy, right onto flat ground.” As far as Lance could tell, it didn’t get much more straightforward than this.

  “Only jumped a couple times. Not afraid of heights, but that’s a small plane.” Rock glanced out at the airstrip then checked the cage on his helmet. His hand shook slightly.

  Lance slapped him on the shoulder. “No problem, man. We got this.”

  “You sure, Roberts? Trouble seems to follow you around.
” Sledge’s voice cut into their conversation, smooth and full of derision. “Don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Appreciate your concern, but you should watch yourself.” Lance didn’t bother to give him a glance. The guy didn’t deserve his full attention. If anyone should get kicked out for being a dick, it was that guy. “No one likes you.”

  Sledge laughed. “Yeah, but they trust me to do the job. Can you say the same?”

  He smirked before sauntering away.

  “All right, rookies,” yelled Tim, as he finished fastening buckles on his jumpsuit. “You all went through your initial sign offs?” A chorus of affirmatives answered. He nodded. “Good. Then grab your sacks, and let’s get on the plane.”

  As they all shuffled out, the engine of their plane hummed in front of them. The smell of airplane fuel permeated the air, and together the smell and the sound filled Lance with anticipation.

  He was really doing this. Finally, after years of preparation, after all the hours of training and sweat and tears, he was finally going to take his first jump as a Redmond smokejumper.

  Adrenaline coursed through him as he climbed in behind Hunter and took his seat next to him. They still didn’t talk, but the ice between them had thawed. After he’d defended Meg to Sledge, Hunt had changed. Not welcoming, but not quite as frosty either. They coexisted. It was better than before, so he’d take it.

  As the plane taxied down the runway and they ascended to their altitude, no one spoke. Around him, the faces of the men he’d been training with for the past two weeks were identical masks of determination and intensity. He’d only known them for a brief time, but he was already coming to rely on their talent and expertise. Even Sledge, who he didn’t trust personally, showed real talent and skill at everything he did. Even so, he was happy he wasn’t that guy’s jump partner. He and Hunter had been paired this time.

  Finally, after what felt like forever, Tim stood and moved to the front of the cabin. “All right rookies. Time to show us what you got. Let’s do this.”

  He went through the final jump instructions and after a few minutes, he nodded to the first pair, and they strapped in.

  They lined up, all of them in their full-face caged helmets and high-collared jumpsuits. Rock and Sledge went first, waiting for the taps from Tim, the spotter, before jumping out of the plane at a tuck. Finally, Hunter stepped into the open door. From behind him, Lance felt the lick of the wind, could feel it pulling at him, beckoning him out into the open air, like an old friend welcoming him home. He was eager to greet it, too.

  Hunter received his smack and launched into the sky. With the opening empty, Lance stepped forward, dropping into the sitting position.

  Except, below him, Hunter’s chute didn’t open.

  “Reserve, Hunter,” Tim said, his voice sharp, as he hit Lance on the shoulder and he jumped.

  The moment of exhilaration sang through his blood, the same as it always did. These periods of wild insanity, the seconds when he was completely at the mercy of the elements…they were the moments he was most alive. The freedom coursed through his veins and he laughed.

  Only then did he see Hunter below him, his parachute still twisting in a tail behind him.

  Why hadn’t he cut the parachute, deployed his spare?

  The starkness of the situation crushed the euphoria from his jump. If their primary parachute malfunctioned, they were trained to get rid of it, so they could dispatch their spare chute. For some reason, Hunter wasn’t able to get rid of his.

  He didn’t have a working parachute. Below Lance, he continued to speed toward the ground.

  Reaching into his side pocket, Lance pulled his knife and quickly cut the cords of his parachute. Immediately he dropped like a stone, his stomach raced into his throat. Craning his neck, he searched for his old best friend, sighting him to the east 300 yards below him and dropping fast.

  Hunt had always been smart, though, and he made his body big, the friction of his suit and his outstretched limbs slowing him the best he could. With the tangled parachute dragging him down, he spun in the air and Lance could tell he was having difficulty keeping himself angled toward the ground. Tucking his hands at his side and drawing his legs together, Lance dove forward, streaking through the air, racing to Hunter’s side. He prayed his aim was right, and that he didn’t overshoot. He got lucky. As he closed in, he gripped the knife that would save both of their lives. With his other hand, he grabbed Hunter’s right arm and sawed at his tangled parachute line.

  When the first line gave, any drag that Hunter had from the failing chute went with it, and the two of them together accelerated toward the ground. The sudden movement sent them spinning, and Lance struggled to regain his grip on Hunter’s suit, straining to get at the remaining parachute line. Hunter wrapped his arms around his waist, doing his best to steady them. Reaching, the knife outstretched, and Lance made contact. One strike, another…with a final jerk the line shredded, and the parachute fell off behind them.

  Hunter let go, and Lance pushed with his legs, diving away from his friend. Nearly simultaneously, their reserve packs discharged, sending their parachutes into the sky. But even as he felt the familiar tug of the chute, Lance knew they were too close to the ground.

  They were moving too fast and there wasn’t enough time to slow down.

  They were also off target, by at least a mile, with no time to adjust. This was going to hurt like hell.

  Desperately, he tried to remember all of the ways he’d learned to minimize a faulty impact. As the ground sped toward him, he tucked his knees and angled himself like he’d learned in training so that he could take his fall more to the side, potentially preventing any broken bones.

  As he made initial impact, he wondered if a landing could hurt this much without breaking something. His back hit the ground and the air forced out of him, leaving only pain in its wake. He rolled to the side, gagging.

  Waves of nausea hit him, and he swallowed again and again, doing his best not to vomit. Pain streaked along his spine, like a fire in his veins. Coughing, he looked around, trying to see where Hunter had landed. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a parachute, tangled in a tree.

  He stumbled to his feet, ignoring the burning and aching. Though he couldn’t feel parts of his body and the ones he could feel screamed in agony, he staggered toward his jump partner.

  “Hunter! Hunter, are you okay?” The words were screechy, and he wasn’t even sure if they were the right words. As long as he was making noise, Hunter would hear him. No response, though. He did his best to pick up the pace, but it was slow going. His ankle was sprained. It didn’t matter now, though. He needed to get to Hunter.

  As he closed in, though, all he could see was the dangling legs of his old friend.

  He wasn’t moving.

  * * * *

  “Tim said someone damaged the chute.” Will crossed his arms over his chest, his feet shoulder distance apart. Like he expected a fight.

  “What do you mean?” Meg asked, pacing the length of the hospital waiting room. “Someone packed it incorrectly?”

  “No. We checked all the equipment. No evidence of tampering after inspections. Somehow, though, someone got to the parachute.” Will’s lips pursed. “They twisted it.”

  “Someone sabotaged it.” The buzzing in her ears was louder than what was coming from the overhead fluorescent light. “Someone tried to hurt him.” Hunter could have been killed. He could have tumbled to the ground.

  Falling like a stone.

  Will shook his head. “No. We’re trained to lose a tangled parachute. We all wear backup canopies. He would have cut it and deployed his other backup. Hunter lost his knife. Probably nervous.” He pulled his arms tighter against him, staring out at the top of the next building. “Lance managed to get to him, somehow, and cut the cords himself.”

  “This i
s…horrifying.” Meg paced across the waiting room in the hospital, her hands on her hips. Down the hall, Hunter was still in surgery. “Someone planned to…scare Hunter? Make him use his backup?” When Will didn’t respond, she swallowed around the dryness in her throat. “Or someone was trying kill him.”

  Will exhaled sharply. “Let’s not overreact.”

  “Why would anyone do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She pressed her palm to her forehead. “Lance. He could have been hurt, too. What the hell is going on?”

  “Who’s to say this wasn’t his fault?”

  “Please, Will. He saved Hunter. We’re lucky he was there today.”

  “I think you’ve got a soft spot where he’s concerned. I don’t think you see him like the rest of us do.” Will’s jaw tightened. “And now this happens. Bad things follow that family around.”

  “You aren’t giving him a chance.” She sighed. Will rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to listen to her. Not tonight. Not with Hunter in the surgery room down the hall. She would have to talk to Joe about this when she got back. She changed the subject. “How is Hunter?”

  Will exhaled. “The doctor says he has a long road to recovery. They’re going to replace his rotator cuff, and his leg is broken. He’s definitely out this year, and next year is in jeopardy as well.”

  “He’s lucky he got out with his life.” Meg shook her head. This was exactly what she worried about all the time. Hunter and Lance hadn’t even been fighting an active fire. They could’ve been killed on a routine training exercise. It would keep her up at night.

  It always kept her up at night.

  Will must have read her mind. “It was a fluke. Hunter lost his knife, or it would have been fine.”

  Her anger spiked. Who did he think he was talking to? “Please. After what happened to our father? You can’t talk to me about flukes.”

  He stared at her, probably because she brought up their father. She snorted. He had no defense. It was his job, like it had been their father’s job. If he defended himself, he made himself a target with her. He didn’t want to do that, not tonight. Not with Hunter in such bad shape. Instead, he asked, “Did you call Mom?”