Feisty Firefighters Bundle

by Jill Shalvis; Alison Roberts

  Unless…Her breath hitched. Was there a chance he’d reconsider? That he’d give up his smokejumping job? Especially now that he was injured….

  They reached the end of the mining fence, where the trail switched back and sloped downhill. She cleared her throat, not sure how to broach the delicate subject. “So, are your parents still living on their ranch?” she finally asked.

  For a moment, he didn’t answer. A Steller’s jay squawked in the silence and the pine boughs creaked overhead.

  Then he glanced at her, and she saw pain in his eyes. “They died in a car wreck a few years back. They hit a deer and ran off the road.”

  Oh, God. “I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”

  “Yeah.” Tension carved grooves around his mouth, and he looked away. They hadn’t been close; she knew that much. She’d met them once when they’d come to Missoula, and they’d seemed anxious to leave. But no matter how strained the relationship, losing a parent was hard.

  Regret formed an ache in her chest. She wished she could have been there to help him, to comfort him in his grief. Knowing Cade, he’d shouldered the stark pain alone.

  She reached out her hand to touch him, to let him know that she cared, but then she paused. He wouldn’t welcome her solace, not anymore.

  And strangely enough, that hurt. She dropped her hand to her side. “So who runs the ranch?”

  “A neighbor. I sold it after they died.”

  Her heart dipped. “You didn’t think that someday, I mean, after you’d smokejumped awhile, that you might want to go back?”

  “I told you, I hated that place.”

  “I know, but…” She understood that when he was young, the ranch had made him feel trapped, but surely he’d matured since then. And he loved working outdoors. Why wouldn’t he want his own land?

  For several moments, neither spoke. They continued down the dusty trail, their long strides evenly matched. The dog trotted quietly beside them.

  Finally, Cade slanted her a glance. “Look, you said that growing up, you had trouble fitting in.”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “Maybe if I’d been more outgoing, it would have been different. But it was hard for me to make friends.”

  Which was why she resisted change now.

  She blinked at that sudden insight. Was that true? Did she cling to security? Was she so afraid of rejection that she avoided doing anything new?

  And was that why she’d chosen Phil? Out of convenience? She cringed. Good God, she’d turned into a coward. She’d nearly married a man she didn’t love because he felt safe.

  “I didn’t fit in, either,” Cade admitted.

  Still shocked by her revelation, she forced her attention to Cade. “You mean on the ranch?”

  “Anywhere,” he said. “In school, in town. I felt like I was in prison. When I was a kid, I’d stand on Main Street, at the end where the highway started, just wanting to bust out so bad. To get on that highway and go. I thought I’d explode if I couldn’t leave.”

  Her heart softened at the image of that restless, frustrated boy.

  “But living on that ranch was pure hell,” he continued. “It sucked the life right out of me. I wanted freedom, change. Something different to do every day instead of working that same patch of ground.

  “No one understood that I was different.” He shook his head. “Or maybe my old man did but he just didn’t approve. Maybe that’s what made him so angry—knowing I’d never come back, that he couldn’t control me or make me live out his dream.”

  “Because you had your own dream to follow,” she said, her throat thick.

  “Yeah.” He stopped in the rutted road. She paused beside him, and lifted her gaze to his. And saw the truth in those gorgeous blue eyes. The stark, unguarded truth. Straight down to the core of the man.

  “Smokejumping’s not just a job,” he said. “It’s everything to me. It’s who I am.”

  Dread rolled through her belly. “But you can’t do it forever.”

  “Close enough.”

  “Even if you’re injured?”

  His jaw turned rigid, his gaze hard. “I’m fine. My collarbone’s cracked, that’s all. It’s not going to stop me for long.”

  “But…” She searched his eyes and saw his resolve. He was determined to keep on jumping. But desire alone couldn’t make him invincible.

  “I know you don’t want to quit,” she said carefully. “But what if you had to? What if something bad happened?”

  “Then I’d join a hotshot crew and work from the ground, or learn to fly and drop retardant. I don’t know. But I’d find some way to hang around this world. This is where I belong.”

  “I see.” And, at last, she did. After a childhood of not fitting in, he’d found acceptance, respect, a place where he finally felt right.

  A sick, sinking sensation pooled in her gut. And she understood something else now. He didn’t jump for the adrenaline rush. He did it because he had to feel free—a feeling that was as vital to him as breathing.

  A regular job would do more than bore him; it would crush his soul.

  Which meant that the one thing she needed most—that he give up smokejumping—was exactly what he could never do.

  Chapter 10

  J ordan limped along the trail in the midday heat, reeling from her revelation about Cade. So he wasn’t the thrill-seeker she’d thought. Her entire perception had been skewed—which meant that she’d misjudged this man badly. And now she had to rethink the past, their marriage, even herself in this new light.

  And she might have to admit she’d been wrong.

  Unease fluttered through her chest, but she ruthlessly tamped it down. No matter how uncomfortable she felt, she had to get at the truth. She had to peel back those protective layers and take a hard, frank look at the past—and her own role in it.

  That was why she’d come to Montana. She’d expected to find validation, to prove she’d been right to leave Cade. Instead, she’d realized she didn’t love Phil. That kiss had blasted that illusion, cracking open the door on the truth.

  And she couldn’t shrink from the rest of it, even if she didn’t like what she found out.

  And a big part of facing that truth was telling Cade about the miscarriage. He deserved to know about his lost child. She never should have kept that secret.

  Guilt blocked her throat at the thought.

  “Hold up a minute.” Cade stopped and glanced around. “I want to check the map.”

  “All right.” She paused and shifted her weight from her tender ankle, then bent down to pet the dog. She’d behaved badly, all right. She’d fled Montana and ended their marriage, wounding the man she had loved. And when she told him why she left, she would hurt him even more.

  Her throat thick, she brushed the dirt from Dusty’s coat, and rubbed the soft fur on his head. He whined softly, gazing up with those trusting eyes, and tension slid from her heart. It wouldn’t erase her guilt or change the past, but now she had a chance to do something right. She could finally tell Cade the whole truth.

  But not here. Not with the fire this close. She’d wait until the danger had passed and he had time to listen.

  Cade struggled to open his map, and she quickly rose to help him. “Here, let me get that.” She grabbed the ends and held them steady.

  “Thanks.” His blond brows furrowed as he studied the map. Sunlight filtered through the whispering pines, highlighting the tips of his lashes. Darker bristles shadowed his jaw beneath his hard hat.

  Her gaze caressed that rugged face and her pulse began to hum. And that familiar ache came slinking back. She longed to touch him, to stroke that masculine jaw and see need flare in those dazzling blue eyes. To feel the power in those massive muscles and the rocketing thrills when he kissed her.

  A gust of wind fluttered the map and snapped her back to reality. The forest fire. Their need to escape.

  She sent an uneasy gaze to the south. She couldn’t see the fire yet. The forest was calm, the pat
ch of sky above the pines still blue.

  But it was coming. She could sense it pulsing, seething as it roiled its way over the mountain. Thundering through the tinder-dry pines, devouring everything in its path—including them, if they didn’t get out fast.

  Her blood careened through her veins. Jittery now, she looked at Cade, and was startled by how calm he looked, how at ease in this dangerous world.

  And for the first time, she realized she had a chance to see beyond the glamour to the reality of his job in a way she’d never had when they were married. To see who Cade really was.

  And maybe, what she had lost.

  He caught her gaze. “We’ll cut across here on this game trail.”

  “That’s a trail?” Surprised, she glanced at the faintly trampled grass leading into the trees, and her respect for him rose. “You certainly have an eye for details.” She never would have noticed that path or survived out here on her own.

  “It probably leads to a stream,” he said. “We’ll follow it as long as we can. But things could get rough after that.”

  “I can handle it.” She folded the map and stuck it in the pocket of his PG bag.

  He didn’t answer, and she lifted her gaze to his. She saw the concern in his eyes, the worry. Not for his own safety, but for hers. He wanted to protect her, just as he always had.

  Determined to do her part, she raised her chin. “I can keep up.”

  “Yeah.” His voice gentled. “Just let me know if I’m going too fast or if you need to rest.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She’d make sure of it. She refused to slow them down, especially with their lives at stake. And she’d prove that he could depend on her, at least this time.

  He dipped his head in agreement, then turned and hiked through the weeds. Intent on keeping up, she ignored her pulsating ankle. She focused instead on the power in his back, the impressive width of his shoulders, the confidence in his lengthy stride.

  And couldn’t help but marvel. God, he was strong. And not just physically. She couldn’t imagine dealing with this terrible tension, this unbearable stress every day. Facing constant danger, taking risks, making decisions that could cost him his life.

  “So, how did you decide to become a smokejumper?” she asked.

  The game trail widened, enabling them to walk abreast, and he slowed for her to catch up. “I traveled around for awhile after high school. I worked in construction, did some logging, went up to Alaska and hired on with a fishing boat. But I didn’t find anything that appealed to me long-term.

  “Then, one summer, I joined up with a hotshot crew. I liked the work, the challenge of fighting wildfires. How every day was different.

  “But it still didn’t suit me. I needed more independence. Fewer rules. That’s when I applied to smokejump.”

  She dodged a low-hanging branch. “You’re saying smokejumpers don’t have rules?”

  “No, we’ve got plenty of rules. We don’t fool around with our lives. But it’s different. We’re more like a group of individuals working together. We’re all committed to the same thing, catching fire, and we can depend on our bros for our lives. But everyone thinks for himself. There isn’t that obedience or regimentation.”

  She could see why that attracted him. Cade wouldn’t obey anyone he didn’t want to. He was far too independent.

  And, to be honest, it was precisely that trait that had attracted her to him, his natural ability to lead.

  And she’d followed him heart and soul. She’d leaned on him, depended on him, probably too much.

  Uneasy with that thought, she frowned, but she had to admit it was true. He’d overwhelmed her back then. Not intentionally, but he’d been far too easy to cling to. And that hadn’t been fair to him.

  “The whole idea of smokejumping appealed to me,” he continued. “Not only the work, but that so few people could make it. For the first time, I had a goal, something to work for. I’d never wanted anything that bad in my life. To be the best. One of the elite.”

  To belong.

  She understood that now. He didn’t jump for the adrenaline rush as she’d once thought. Sure, he enjoyed that part; he was an intensely physical man. But he’d had a far deeper need, beyond the search for freedom. The need to prove his worth, to find acceptance.

  And he had that now—esteem, admiration, the respect of his peers.

  She eyed his steady stride and acknowledged the truth. Cade was an exceptional man.

  And she’d tossed him aside. A sharp slash of regret tightened her chest.

  “Hundreds apply every year,” he added. “But only a few make it into the program. And some of those wash out of rookie training. Even former marines think it’s tough.”

  Unsettled, she dragged her mind back to the conversation. “And even once you’re in, you can’t slack off.” She’d learned that much at the cabin. “I remember how you worked out all winter to keep in shape.”

  His gaze met hers, and she knew he remembered that, too. “Yeah, we have to requalify every spring.”

  The path narrowed again, and she dropped back, ending the conversation. Grateful for the privacy, she gave in to her rising pain and let herself limp. Despite her assurances to Cade, throbbing heat bludgeoned her knee now, and she could barely put weight on her ankle. She longed to lie down and rest.

  But if Cade could endure this trek with his injuries, she wouldn’t let a few bruises slow her. Not when the stakes were this high.

  The path wound through the trees as they trudged along, then dipped into a valley sheltered between the two mountains. The gentle murmur of pine boughs ceased, leaving an oppressive heat in its wake. The buzz of cicadas droned in the air.

  But gradually, the stillness gave way to the rush of water, and the welcome scent of moisture. A few yards later, the trail ended at a shallow stream.

  Cade crossed it in a few easy strides, then waited for her to catch up. She paused to let the dog lap the water and then gently tugged him across. Knowing Cade was watching, she struggled to hide her limp.

  “How’s your ankle?”

  She grimaced. The man was far too observant. “Just bruised.”

  He raised a skeptical brow. “We’d better wrap it. I’ve got an elastic bandage in my bag.”

  “It’s not that bad.” And they couldn’t afford to waste time.

  “It’ll get worse. Sit down on the grass and take off your shoe.”

  Annoyed, she propped her hands on her hips. He ignored his own more serious injuries, yet insisted on pampering hers. “It’s really not that bad, Cade. I’d rather keep moving.”

  “Not until we deal with that ankle.” His stubborn gaze drove into hers. “Look, I’ve had my share of twisted ankles. Smokejumpers land hard all the time. And the sooner we get that thing wrapped, the better chance we have of making that clearing.”

  “Fine.” Frustrated, she plopped herself down in the grass. Phil would have listened to her. He would have kept on walking. But she couldn’t push Cade around.

  She tucked the leash under her hip to hold it in place and started unlacing her damp shoe. Was that why she’d dated Phil? Because she could control him?

  She mulled that over as she worked the laces. Phil certainly wasn’t weak, but he didn’t challenge her, either. Unlike Cade. When Cade decided something, he didn’t budge.

  She pulled off her shoe, wincing at the blisters covering her heels. Then she pulled up her pant leg and cringed. Her ankle had turned purple and swollen. And autocratic or not, Cade was right.

  She sighed. “I guess I do need to wrap this.”

  He dropped the bags on the ground beside her, and lowered himself to one knee. “The elastic bandage should help.” He pulled it from his bag and held it out. “Here, take off the clip.”

  While she pulled the small metal clip from the roll, he carefully lifted her foot. His warm, rough hand sent chills along her nerves. But then his thumb slid over her ankle and she flinched. “That hurts?”

  “A little,�
�� she admitted, although she liked the feel of his hand on her skin.

  He slowly rotated the discolored joint, and pain jolted up her leg. She sucked in her breath.

  He didn’t release his hold. “You need to get this X-rayed.”

  “I will. As soon as we get to Missoula.”

  His gaze met hers, and she saw determination in those vibrant blue eyes. “We’ll make it out of here,” he promised.

  “I know.”

  He held her gaze, as if to convince her, and the years suddenly peeled away. And for a moment, she was back in the time when he’d been the center of her world and dreams. When he’d been her fantasy man come to life. Back in the time when he’d loved her. Her heart fluttered deep in her chest.

  But then he broke the gaze and gently propped her foot on his knee. “You’ll have to help hold the bandage.”

  Shaken by the strong wave of longing, she hissed in a breath. “Okay, but don’t put too much around my foot or I won’t be able to get my shoe back on.” She handed him the balled elastic.

  He unrolled the end and draped it over her instep. “You’ll have to hold this down.”

  Leaning forward, she pressed the elasticized cloth to her foot. Using his left hand, Cade carefully wrapped her ankle, passing her the roll to complete each rotation.

  They worked together easily, a comfortable silence between them, the dog panting softly at their side. Behind them, the gurgling stream splashed past.

  And without warning, she recalled another time they’d worked together, that Christmas when they’d decorated the tiny blue spruce. They’d passed the tinsel back and forth around the fragrant tree just like this, sharing promising smiles and molten glances. Until that inevitable passion flared and they’d started to kiss….

  The dog nudged her arm, and she cleared her throat. “So, besides sprained ankles, what kind of injuries do smokejumpers get?”

  He paused for a second, as if recalling old wounds, and then he slowly resumed wrapping. “Just what you’d expect,” he said, his tone cautious now. “Bruises and cuts. Pulled muscles. Burns. Some long-term injuries. Knees take a lot of abuse, and the meniscus eventually tears. But usually nothing too grim.”