Smoky Mountain Sweethearts

by Cheryl Harper

  Once upon a time, that had been a common occurrence. She never would have missed Chuck’s interest at twenty. Then she’d fallen in love, gotten married, and that all stopped.

  She was technically single again, but how could the world tell?

  After she’d lost so much weight that her wedding rings had slipped on her fingers, Avery had taken them off and put them safely away. Did she need to find them again?

  “Any man who likes smart women would be hitting on you, sweet girl. That hasn’t changed.” Her mother wrapped a hand around her arm to urge her into the boarding line. “And that won’t be the last time, either.”

  “I’ll get my rings resized, put them back on. That’ll help.” It hadn’t stopped every flirt through the years, but she’d lost the knack of understanding a man was flirting and the ability to answer properly. Chuck had deserved a better conversation than the one he’d gotten. She still wouldn’t be calling him for a date, but she could have given him his card back without a trace of guilt.

  She wasn’t in the market for Chuck or any other man.

  “Not to come back to life, it won’t,” her mother snapped before graciously handing a member of the gate crew her boarding pass.

  Avery did her best to respond to the attendant’s pleasant greeting and then nodded in a friendly manner at Chuck as she passed. He tapped his phone in a nonverbal signal that she should call him. Once all the bags were stuffed overhead and her mother had settled with her neck pillow, her blanket and her magazine, Avery tipped her head to say, “I’m perfectly fine without a man in my life for now.”

  “Thing is, you better not lose something that will make you happy because you got your head buried under a pillow.” Her mother pursed her lips. “Grieving is important and only you know how to do it for you. It’s been two years, and I love you too much to let you grieve yourself right on into the grave.”

  Avery closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. “This isn’t grieving. This is...”

  “...being confused.” Her mother turned to catch Avery’s stare. “I get it. I’ve been there. Let me tell you something. The more time you lose figuring out what you want, the harder it is to go for it. Once you stop, it’s hard to get started again.”

  “I’m not confused. I’m sad, Mama. Heartbroken. I can’t even believe this conversation.” Avery yanked open the magazine she’d picked up off the stack, the cute-dogs one, and flipped it open to study the table of contents, a weak sizzle of anger fizzling quickly.

  Her mother cared even if she didn’t understand.

  The short flight to Knoxville was so easy that Avery had to sit back and think how long it had been since she’d flown. At least seven years. Maybe her first step should be a real trip, one without her mother. She did not want a weeklong lecture about the dangers of foreign toe rot.

  The Knoxville airport was easy to navigate, but Avery was breathing hard and feeling the strain all through her body by the time she and her mother made it through baggage claim and to her mother’s small SUV. With the last push of her strength, Avery loaded the bags and staggered around to the passenger side to flop down in the seat.

  Her mother, instead of showing signs of fatigue, was perking up. “Want to eat before we head home?”

  “No.” Avery covered her forehead with one hand. “Let’s pick something up, if you want.”

  If she had to get out of the car anywhere other than her mother’s driveway, she’d stumble. Her mother didn’t need to deal with that scare right now.

  As they left the city behind and the road wound through the rolling hills toward the Great Smoky Mountains in the distance, Avery breathed deeply and memorized the dense forests, the running streams and the way the mountains rose behind Sweetwater all over again. If there was any place in the world that would feed her the energy that had been slowly drained over years of distance and struggle, it was this one.

  “Need some rain. Fall color’s off, all the dry, dead leaves,” her mother said, “but it’s still the prettiest place on the planet.” Avery had loved so much of Chicago, but it was impossible to argue with her mother.

  Avery turned on the radio and the country music that flowed out of the speakers made it easy to relax through the curves that her mom handled like a race-car driver. Whatever came next, this was the right decision.

  “Thanks for coming to get me, Mama,” Avery said softly. She might have stayed in that house until they’d kicked her out and in Chicago until she faded away. Already Avery could feel the color in this world.

  “I should have come sooner.” Her mother’s lips trembled and she flapped her hand in front of her face like she’d done anytime tears threatened for as long as Avery could remember. “And I want everything for you, Avery, all you ever wanted.”

  “I was fine. I’m fine.” Avery had assured her mother she was coping with every phone call.

  Her mother’s snort was easy to understand. “You’re not fine, honey. But that’s okay. You will be.” The grim set of her lips was worrying, but Avery didn’t have the right words to convince her otherwise.

  And the way she felt, she needed to conserve her energy. They passed the tourist draw of Gatlinburg and wound north before turning off to stop outside Sweetwater. As her mother drove down the lane to her farmhouse, Avery was relieved that almost everything outside was the same. “What happened to the oak?” It had once been home to a rope swing and the beginnings of a tree house that her father had started but never finished.

  “Storm came through. I told you that.” Her mother waved a hand as she slid out of the SUV. “Maybe not. I thought it might depress you.”

  And we both know I don’t need to be any more depressed.

  “Had to call in a tree service. Sammy was too concerned about how close it was to the house to try to take care of it himself.” Her mother yanked open the back of the SUV and started unloading the bags. “Plus, it was in the park’s busy season. Kid works as many hours as he can.”

  Kid? Samuel Blackburn was exactly Avery’s age, definitely old enough to have outlived “kid.” He’d been the thorn in her side growing up, but his mother was still Janet Abernathy’s best friend.

  “After we get you settled, I’ll run over and let Regina know I’m home. She’s been watching the place for me.” Her mother hustled up the four steps to the wide front porch and unlocked the front door. “Need to get you a new key made. Had the locks replaced after I had the renovations done.” She paused in front of the grand entryway and said, “The new foyer.”

  “It’s lovely.” The old wallpaper was gone. Gleaming hardwoods were stained dark, and the front room was done up in grays and blues. “I could spend all day in here with a book.”

  Her mother pointed up the stairs. “Your room is ready. You go take a nap. You look tired. I’ll see about dinner and let Regina know we made it in.”

  Before she could disappear, Avery wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders and squeezed. “Thank you for letting me come home.”

  Her mother sniffed. “Girl, if you make my mascara run, we will both be sorry.”

  Avery squeezed her again and then let go. “Now, do I need to be worried about toe rot in my room?”

  “Only if you brought it in,” her mother said as she narrowed her eyes. “You bring any rot at all into my place and we will have words.” She waved and then stepped back out on the porch.

  Avery was still smiling when she opened the door to her old room. The linens and paint were different. All her awards had been boxed up, but the afternoon light through the window that warmed her favorite spot in the world, the window seat that used to overlook the old oak, was exactly the same.

  Her phone rang and she didn’t even pull it out of her purse. She knew who was calling, the only one of her friends who still made the effort. Maria Benton had been one of the lawyers fighting for people who
needed them most in Chicago’s Legal Aid. She’d spent the time Avery had volunteered there testing her and encouraging her, and when Robert had been diagnosed, she’d been Avery’s most loyal friend.

  And for two years, she’d called and left messages and never once accepted Avery’s excuses for why her return calls were so very few. It hurt to talk to Maria. It hurt to remember that old life.

  Today, Avery was going to put off until the day after tomorrow what she couldn’t face today. She was home now. She’d have more energy any day now. That was the day to call Maria. Until then, there was voice mail.

  Avery dumped her bags on the floor and sprawled sideways on the queen-size bed. A nap. Then she’d get started on figuring out the rest of her life.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SAM BLACKBURN HAD climbed The Eagle Nest so many times in his life that it had lost some of the thrill. Doing it in the fine mist that Sunday afternoon certainly added a degree of difficulty. Still not enough to satisfy the restless urge that had been plaguing him ever since he’d read about the opening for a spot on the Highland firefighting crew out of Colorado. They tackled the most dangerous wildfires out West.

  That was the kind of challenge he needed.

  Sam dropped down to sit next to Ash Kingfisher. They’d worked together for years and known each other longer than that. If he tried to start a meaningful conversation with Ash at this point, the man in charge of the Otter Lake Ranger Station might give him a hard push right over the edge.

  Ash was a good leader but a terrible conversationalist.

  The best thing about the rain was that it meant this trail, one of the most popular hikes in the reserve, was deserted. It wouldn’t do much to alleviate the drought that had started in the spring and lasted all summer, but it was nice to remember that rain was still a possibility.

  Sam clenched his hands together to keep from twiddling his thumbs and stared out over the trees. Might as well be at the top of the world on a day like today.

  “Out with it.” Ash inhaled deeply, his face completely expressionless.

  “I’m going to apply for the wildland firefighting crew opening,” Sam blurted as he stared hard in the opposite direction. If Ash sneered, he’d know the guy had even less faith in his chances than Sam did.

  “Might as well.” Ash rolled his shoulders and wiped a drop of rain off his forehead.

  Then he stretched out the leg that sometimes gave him trouble and moved his foot from side to side. The climb up the rocky top of the mountain was a challenge for most people. Sam spent more time going up and down trails than he did on flat land, but Ash was in the office now.

  “Don’t even think it,” Ash muttered.

  “What?” Sam asked. He knew there was no way the guy could read his mind, but Ash missed nothing.

  “I’m not slowing down a bit.” Ash turned his head slowly to give him a narrow stare.

  “Fine.” Sam nervously chewed on his thumbnail and then yanked his hand away. He wasn’t a kid anymore. When he was growing up, Avery Abernathy would have snorted in disgust and pointed at him like he was a baby if she’d caught him chewing his fingernail. “Bad habit. Nerves. Knew a girl once who did the same thing but would deny it until the end of time.” Nervous babbling. No good. Sam clamped his hands together. “How good are my chances?”

  Ash sighed. “Gonna be competitive.”

  “All the good jobs are. I had to volunteer here for two years before I even got an interview,” Sam said. “That your only concern?”

  Ash squeezed his eyes shut. “Are we about to have a moment?”

  Sam huffed out a laugh and called Ash the worst combination of curse words he knew.

  “Well, I’d say you’ve got a real problem with authority,” Ash drawled, “but no one is going to deny you’ve got experience, conditioning and training. If it was New Mexico, I’d be worried. You’d get sand in your shorts and run crying to mama, but the mountains will be enough like home.”

  “A problem with authority,” Sam said. “That must be why I hang out with you.”

  Ash’s slow blink was his only acknowledgment that Sam might have a point.

  “If it comes to it, I will make sure my high opinion of you and your dedication to the job are well known,” Ash said as he stood slowly. The rocks were wet but still solid. “That what you brought me all the way up here for?”

  He’d thought Ash needed to get out of his cabin. Brooding didn’t even begin to cover what the guy could do with free time, but there was only so much a guy could do. “Yep. That’s it. I wanted to make sure I have your endorsement.”

  “What do I know about firefighters? I manage calm, stable reserve rangers. Those guys, the ones who parachute in to put out these fires, they’re crazy.” Ash shook his head. “You should fit right in.”

  “They’re the best of the best, taking on the worst wildfires, the ones that can destroy whole forests, not to mention everything else in their path.” Sam turned to start the slow descent down the rock face. “Here, we babysit controlled burns and put out lightning strikes.”

  “And save lives and conserve native flora and fauna and history and put your lives on the line by standing too close to the flames when it counts.” Ash grunted. “That ought to be enough danger for any one person for a lifetime. Those fires or these, those forests or these, your job is important,” he said before he drawled, “sweetheart.” His sarcasm had saved them both from one of those touchy-feely moments.

  Sam concentrated on making it down to the trail. If he stumbled and fell, he’d never hear the end of it. Well, if he fell over the edge, he’d never hear the beginning of the trash talk, but his funeral would be embarrassing.

  “You told your mother yet?” Ash asked as he stepped down next to Sam. They still had the hike back to the trailhead, but it would be a piece of cake, even for Ash.

  “Not yet.” That was the part he dreaded. “Think I’ll wait to see if I even rate an interview. You know how it goes. Postings usually come up in January, so it may take forever, but this drought...” Sam shrugged. “It’s worse out West. I figure they’re in a hurry to get the crews fully staffed.”

  Ash grunted. “Probably can’t leave a vacancy for long. Too dangerous.”

  Spring and summer would be the busy seasons. They were here in the Smokies as well, but search and rescue got more interesting in the winter. He’d plan to spend plenty of time volunteering here at home. That would scratch the itch.

  “Gonna be a job up soon in search and rescue, incident commander.” Ash turned to stare over his shoulder as he headed down the trail. “Think you might be interested in that?”

  Sam had the volunteer hours. There’d be hours and hours and hours of training and the competition for jobs here wasn’t much less intense than it was for the few slots that opened in the regional firefighting teams.

  He could consider it as a backup plan.

  But he loved fighting fire.

  Sam shook his head. “No, I know what I want.” He wanted a new challenge. He needed it.

  Ash didn’t answer as they made it back to the trailhead. Sam had no idea if getting Ash out of his cabin had made a lick of difference, but he wasn’t ready to go home.

  “I was thinking of heading over to Obed to do some climbing. Want to go on your next day off?” Sam asked as they made it back to the parking area.

  “Nope. I like my feet on the ground.” Ash didn’t hesitate as he slid into the reserve’s SUV. He raised two fingers in his version of a wave, backed out of the parking spot and headed for his cave.

  Leaving Sam with nothing to do and energy to burn.

  He turned to look back up the trail and took off running. Maybe he could beat his best time. If he did it in the rain, that would be something to brag about.

  Not that he’d have any proof, but four more m
iles in the rain should be enough for one day. Sam hit the trail hard, clearing the first switchback easily, and ran until his heart pounded and he had to concentrate on breathing. The view was forgotten as he focused on each step of the rocky path up and then back down the mountain.

  Pleasantly tired and overall satisfied with tying his best time, Sam slid into the truck and started it up. Not much for a firefighter to do on a misty day like this one. There was no lightning to keep things interesting. It was a bad idea to whine about things being too quiet. Mother Nature had a way of kicking up a fuss, but his trip back to Sweetwater was easy enough. When he parked in front of the housing for Otter Lake rangers, he could see his mother’s Cadillac.

  Apparently, he’d missed everything but the goodbye, though, because Regina Blackburn was trotting down the covered steps that led to the second-floor apartments. “There you are. Soaking wet.”

  She smoothed her sleek bob behind one ear and plucked at his gray T-shirt. “I brought over some groceries and the leftover roast beef you forgot to take with you last night. It’s in the fridge.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Sam said as he pretended he was about to give her a bear hug. She shook one hot-pink fingernail in his face.

  “Don’t you do it. I’ve got cards with the girls and no time for a change.” She gave each cheek an air-kiss. “Now, I’d ask you what you were doing, but it was something foolish that will make an old woman have palpitations if she discovers her favorite son participating, am I right?”

  Sam mimed zipping his lips and tossing the key. The Eagle Nest was safer now after the trail renovation than it had been in decades, but she’d never agree.

  She raised one eyebrow at him. “How you can risk that pretty face is beyond me. You better keep it safe.” She tapped his cheek.

  “Yes, Mother.” He ducked his head and wondered when she’d notice all the mud on his legs. He should point it out to hear her fuss.