Feisty Firefighters Bundle

by Jill Shalvis; Alison Roberts

Fir needles cushioned her steps as she trailed Cade to the wooden toolshed behind the cabin. She tried not to walk too close, to keep some distance between them. She didn’t want to feel his heat, his power, that mesmerizing tick of desire that consumed her whenever he was in sight.

  He stopped at the door and waited for her to unlock it. She stepped beside him and that smoky scent reached her nostrils, along with the essence of Cade. Her head felt light, and her pulse quickened at the vivid memories. How many times had they done this together, coming home to the cabin? But back then, they’d be laughing. Cade would pull her close and nuzzle her neck….

  Her hands shaking, her face burning, she fumbled to unlock the rusty padlock securing the door. She didn’t dare look at Cade.

  She finally unhooked the lock and stepped back. Cade moved forward and she braved a glance at his face. His jaw was rigid, the muscles along his cheeks tense.

  Without warning, his gaze met hers. And for an instant, she saw that old fire in his eyes, the urgency and passion.

  And then, just as fast, it was gone.

  Unable to breathe, she yanked her gaze to the ground. And suddenly, an ache swelled in her heart, along with a deep sense of loss, as if something special had disappeared from her life, something unique. A connection, a sense of destiny she’d never felt with anyone since. And maybe never would again.

  Her throat cramped as Cade shoved the creaking door open and stepped past her into the shed. His boots tramped hard on the wooden floor, and his wide shoulders filled the narrow doorway. She blinked back the blur in her eyes.

  Seconds later, he turned and handed her a coil of nylon line with an old wooden clothespin stuck to it. Somehow the rope made her feel even worse, and the wedge in her throat grew thicker. It shouldn’t have been fun washing their clothes by hand, stringing that line across the cabin in the winter, letting the clothes dry by the heat of the woodstove while they made love on the bed. But dear God, she’d adored this man.

  She looked at his unyielding face and just then, it struck her. The deep bitterness he felt, the resentment. The fierce anger he’d fostered for years.

  He blamed the collapse of their marriage on her.

  But that was crazy! He was the one who had left. He’d chosen his job over her.

  But he didn’t see it that way. A sick feeling spiraled through her stomach. Oh, God. “Cade, I…” Her voice shook, and her heart battered hard against her rib cage. “Back there, when we were catching the dog, you said, you thought I’d…that I’d abandoned you.”

  He stilled, and the muscles along his jaw tensed. “You’re trying to tell me you didn’t?”

  “Yes. I mean no, I didn’t, I never…”

  “Right.” Bitterness seeped through his voice. “Well, you sure as hell fooled me.” He made a sound of disgust and turned away.

  And her heart balled even tighter. She never would have abandoned Cade. She’d loved him back then, truly loved him, with a passion bordering on desperation. He’d been the center of her world, the hero of her childhood dreams—or so she’d thought.

  But even when he’d crushed those dreams, she’d never intended to hurt him. She’d just been too wrapped up in her own misery to do anything more than flee.

  She gazed at his rigid back and her heart wrenched. She had to tell him that. Even if it didn’t change how he felt, he needed to know the truth. He probably wouldn’t listen to her now, and with the fire at their backs, this wasn’t the time. But somehow, before they reached Missoula, she would explain.

  He lifted a plastic fuel container with his left hand, shook it, and handed it back. Then he pulled the chain saw from the shelf. “When was the last time you used this?”

  “I never have.”

  “Hell. The damn thing probably won’t run.” He set it on the ground outside the shed, turned back and grabbed an ax. He set that down next to the chain saw.

  “That’s it,” he said, still sounding angry. “Let’s go.”

  Her heart weighted, she tucked the clothesline under her arm, picked up the chain saw, and headed toward the Jeep. She heard Cade close the shed door behind her.

  He helped load the tools through the rear window, and every jerk of his arm, every twist of his head tightened her nerves, reminding her of the unfinished business between them. Still, she was thankful for his silence. With her emotions so raw, she didn’t trust herself to speak.

  “The trail starts just past that boulder,” he said when they’d climbed back into the Jeep.

  “I remember,” she managed. She pulled back onto the road and drove slowly toward the large rock, then stopped when she spotted the trail. Ferns sprawled over deep ruts and potholes. Branches poked through the clusters of weeds.

  Her apprehension rose. “It looks pretty rough. Do you think the Jeep will make it?”

  “It had better.”

  “You’re right.” No matter how primitive, this road was their only way out. She tentatively stepped on the gas.

  The Jeep bumped over a branch. The grooves around Cade’s mouth deepened and he cradled his arm to his chest. She hit the brakes, concerned. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t look fine.” His skin had paled and new creases lined his forehead.

  He flicked his hard gaze to her. “Well, looks can be deceiving, can’t they?”

  A swift jab of hurt lanced her chest. “You think I deceived you?”

  He raised a brow but didn’t answer, and she yanked her gaze to the trail. So he thought she had deceived him, that she’d lied to him when she left. In a way, she didn’t blame him. But he was wrong, and she had to explain that. She owed him that much after everything they’d shared.

  But this wasn’t the time. Her throat aching with guilt and apprehension, she pressed on the gas. Fortunately, dodging branches demanded concentration and she pushed the past to the back of her mind.

  But that left her to deal with the present. And no matter how difficult the trail was, her senses locked on the man stretched beside her. His long, muscled legs and sturdy boots filled the periphery of her vision. Every time she inhaled, his low, smoky scent scored her lungs. Even the rasp of his breath stroked her nerves into heightened awareness.

  But then, he’d always had that effect on her. From the moment they’d met, he’d taken command of her senses. The attraction had been instant, overwhelming, sparking a passion they couldn’t contain. But even a fire that hot couldn’t sustain a marriage, especially when Cade wouldn’t stay home.

  She glanced at him again and stifled a sigh. Unfortunately for her, the man still rattled her senses. Ten long years hadn’t dimmed that attraction one bit.

  Which was going to make this one uncomfortable drive.

  About a mile past the cabin, the road started climbing. Thankful for the distraction, she stopped and shifted to all-wheel drive. The sun slid behind the mountain as she powered uphill, sending long shadows over their path. The pines turned a darker shade of green, and the warm air gradually cooled.

  Suddenly, she spotted the old meadow and her heart jammed in her throat. And despite her intentions, sensations clawed through her nerves, memories of rolling in that fragrant grass, alive and in love with Cade. When need had surged, and laughter had turned to breathtaking hunger.

  Desperate to banish the memories, she stomped on the gas. The Jeep lurched forward, the meadow disappeared behind them, and she slowly released her breath.

  She braved a glance at Cade. He stared straight ahead, the muscles along his jaw taut. Whether from pain or seeing the meadow, she didn’t know. And no way was she going to ask.

  A moment later, he cleared his throat. “Have you used this Liberty much off-road?”

  She inched out her breath. “It’s not mine. I rented it at the airport. I thought I might need an SUV if the roads were bad, and the Liberty was all they had.”

  His eyes met hers. “So you don’t live around here?”

  “No, I work in V
irginia. I just came here on my vacation.”

  “To stay in the cabin?”

  “No, to sell it.” She pulled her gaze to the road. Frankly, she didn’t know why he’d ever given her the place. She hadn’t asked for it. And although she loved to hike, he was more the outdoorsman.

  Maybe it had reminded him too much of her.

  “So you don’t come here much?” he persisted.

  “No.” Her gaze met his again. “This is my first trip back.”

  His blue eyes narrowed on hers. She waited for him to ask why she still owned a cabin she never used. Why she hadn’t severed that tie to him years ago. Questions she’d refused to ask herself and certainly couldn’t answer.

  His eyes searched hers, and her pulse drummed in her throat. “Looks like you picked a bad time,” he finally said.

  “Yes.” She dragged her gaze away. Her timing stank, all right, especially since she’d come back to get over him. And the irony of that struck her hard. Instead of being able to forget the man, she now had to spend hours trapped in this Jeep beside him, conscious of every movement he made.

  Moments later, the trees on the side of the road thinned, and Cade straightened in his seat. “Stop for a minute, will you?”

  “Sure.” Anxious to put some distance between them, she braked and turned off the engine. Cool air blew through the open windows, along with the distant roar of the fire.

  Cade grabbed his radio and climbed out. Jordan glanced back at the dog curled behind his seat and wondered if he needed a break. But what if she couldn’t catch him?

  “Sorry, sweetie,” she said. “We’ll let you out later, when we’re farther away from the fire.” She stroked his head, smiling when he looked up and whined. He really was a sweet dog. Thank goodness she’d found him in time.

  She got out of the Jeep, closed the door and stretched to ease the tension from her shoulders. Then she joined Cade at the edge of the road.

  She looked down at the forest and the air locked in her throat. A sea of fire shimmered below them, rolling and seething like something alive. Brilliant orange flames streamed over the livid mass and whipped high into the sky.

  “Looks like it jumped the road,” Cade said. “It’s a good thing we turned around.”

  She searched for signs of the road they’d traveled, but the fire had swallowed it up. She shivered, suddenly very glad Cade was with her. What would she have done on her own?

  The cool wind gusted and blew her long hair forward. She gathered the thick mass and held it over her shoulder to keep it out of her eyes. “It’s windy up here.”

  “It’s that front pushing through.” He lifted his radio and pushed a button. A small red light came on. “Campbell, this is McKenzie.”

  “McKenzie,” Trey radioed back seconds later. “What the hell are you still doing out here? I thought you’d be soaking in a hot tub with some naked blonde by now.”

  Cade chuckled, and a swift pain cramped Jordan’s chest. Caught off guard, she sucked in her breath. She couldn’t be jealous. That was ridiculous. She and Cade were divorced!

  She glanced at him, and her lungs closed up. He stood with his long legs braced apart, his wide shoulders framing his muscled body. Of course the women flocked to him. And when he looked at them with those eyes…

  “Listen,” he said into the radio. “We couldn’t get through on the road, so we turned around. We’re up on the ridge behind the cabin.” He paused, and Trey said something she didn’t catch. “It’s pushing west,” Cade said, “but the perimeter’s erratic.”

  Her stomach still churning, she turned away. Below her, a tree exploded, launching deep-orange flames toward the sky. She tried to imagine people down there fighting that fire—smokejumpers like Trey and Cade. How on earth did they find the courage?

  “You’re probably going to need that tanker,” Cade said. “The mud should help you get close. Just make damned sure you’ve got an escape route.”

  An escape route. She swallowed hard.

  “Probably back inside the burned-out area,” he added. “And heads up on this one. I don’t like the way it looks.”

  Fear lodged deep in her throat, and she took a long look at the fire. She’d never understood that aspect of Cade—how he could stand the danger. It had seemed reckless to her, even selfish, that he’d risk his life for this job. Every time he’d left, she’d been terrified he wouldn’t return.

  And now that she could see the sheer enormity of the fire, the risk seemed even worse.

  “Yeah, I’ll keep you posted.” He turned off the radio and his gaze met hers. And without warning, her world tilted even more. He was good at this, she realized, an expert. A leader who took charge and got the job done.

  Not the thrill-seeker she’d once thought.

  And he cared about his men. Enough to radio and help them, even when finding his own way out.

  She cleared the sudden tightness from her throat. “Can they really put out this fire? It’s so huge.”

  “It’s getting there.” He gazed down at the blaze. “They’ll have to get a tanker in here in the morning, probably bring in a hotshot crew and get more saws on the line.”

  “Why didn’t they do that to begin with?”

  “Because the fire wasn’t big enough then.” His gaze met hers. “Smokejumpers are the initial attack team. They drop us in while the fire’s still small, and we put it out before it goes big.” He smiled wryly. “At least that’s the idea. If we can contain it, we save them a lot of money.”

  She looked out at the fire again. “You save more than money.” That fire devoured trees and killed animals. And if it reached a populated area, they could lose homes and people, too.

  She frowned. “I guess I never appreciated that before. I mean, I knew what you did, but I never really thought about the lives you save.” She’d focused on the danger, the glamour, the excitement of leaping from planes.

  The time he’d spent apart from her.

  “You’re a hero,” she admitted.

  “Hardly. I just do my job.”

  “You do far more than that. You’re amazing.” Their gazes locked. The seconds stretched. And she wondered if she’d really known him back then, ever seen beyond her own needs to the essence of this man.

  And that bothered her. She’d come here to let go of the past, not to see Cade in a better light.

  Or to find out she’d been wrong.

  “We’d better go,” he said.

  “All right.” Still unsettled, she followed him back to the Jeep and started the engine. He slid in the passenger side and closed the door.

  “How far until we meet up with that Forest Service road?” she asked.

  “Hold on. I’ll check the map.” He turned on the dome light and reached toward the backseat, then stopped.

  The pallor of his face caught her attention. “I’ve got it.” She grabbed the map and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.” He spread it awkwardly over his lap. After a moment, he lifted his head. “We should get to a river pretty quick. Once we cross that, we’ve got about twenty miles to go.”

  “Twenty miles? Just to reach a dirt road?” Her jaw sagged. This trip could take all night. And she couldn’t imagine driving this trail in full darkness. “But what about your shoulder?”

  “It’s fine. I’m guessing my collarbone’s cracked, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” She gaped at him. “Are you joking? You must be in terrible pain.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Right.” She didn’t believe that for a second. “Is there something we can do?”

  “We can rig a sling up later, when we’re farther away from the fire. I don’t want to take the time right now.”

  “All right,” she said, still stunned. She knew they didn’t have the luxury of stopping, at least not yet. “But let me know when you want to do it.” She put the Jeep into gear and released the brake.

  A quarter mile later, they crossed the ridge top and started
down the opposite side. They descended slowly, working their way haltingly down the rutted road, every sway and jostle of the Jeep bringing their shoulders dangerously closer. Jordan focused on the path the headlights cut through the dusk, determined to ignore her nearness to Cade.

  The smell of the fire finally faded, replaced by the strong smell of pine. She braved a glance at Cade. He’d fallen asleep, thank God. At least now he could escape the pain that injury must cause. And she could stop pretending he didn’t affect her.

  She let her gaze linger on his handsome face, on the hard, familiar planes of his cheekbones, the stubbled line of his jaw. The dim light emphasized the shadows under his eyes, his fatigue. He seemed vulnerable suddenly, exhausted, and she felt a reluctant surge of sympathy.

  He’d always come home from fires worn out. He’d shower, wolf down more food than she’d thought possible and promptly crash into bed. And leave her feeling even lonelier than when he’d been gone.

  She forced her gaze back to the road. After seeing that fire, she had to admit he had a right to be tired. She could only imagine the strength his job demanded.

  Pensive now, she continued picking her way down the mountain. Soon she heard a low rushing sound over the noise of the motor. It grew steadily louder, and her hopes rose. They’d made it to the river. Now just twenty more miles until they reached a normal dirt road.

  But then the headlights flashed on a barrier blocking their path and she quickly slammed on the brakes.

  “What’s wrong?” Cade asked, his voice rough with sleep.

  She peered through the windshield at the metal pole. What on earth? “The road’s closed.”

  He dragged a hand over his eyes and straightened. “I’ll check it out.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Her anxiety rising, she pushed open her door. Why would anyone block off this old trail? Unless…

  She hurried around the front of the Jeep. The sound of rushing water filled her ears. The Jeep’s headlights shone past the barrier to the dark, swirling water below, and her breath jammed in her throat.

  Someone had put up that pole for good reason. The bridge was gone.

  Chapter 4