by Marnee Blake
Lance hadn’t said much. Didn’t seem like good beer-drinking chatter. But, when he got home, he called his mom. She’d forwarded what the Forest Services’ investigator had given her, and Lance had read that file dozens of times.
He had to admit he agreed with the guy.
So Redmond smokejumper training killed two birds with one stone. He’d dreamed of becoming a smokejumper forever. Like his father. Now he could do it here. Where his father had jumped.
And, maybe being at Redmond would help him flesh out what had really happened in that fire.
Now, he wondered if maybe this all was a cruel joke or some nasty karma he was working off. He hadn’t expected to see Meg. He knew Will, her older brother, jumped at Redmond. But what was she doing here?
He shook Joe’s hand. “Mr. Buchanan. Good to see you.” He turned to Dak. “This is Dak Parrish. We rappelled together in California.”
“Mr. Parrish. Nice to meet you.” Joe’s smile appeared genuine. He shook Dak’s hand. “Welcome to Redmond Air Center, boys.” He turned, then, to his niece. “Lance, you remember my niece, Meg, don’t you?”
When she faced him, his first thought was that her adolescent pretty face had delivered on its promise. Meg, with her red hair and crystal blue eyes, had never been able to fade into the background, even then, even when she wanted to. The woman she’d grown into was striking. Pale skin, but not a hint of a freckle, as if they wouldn’t dare. Her hair wasn’t strawberry blonde, but auburn. And, those eyes…still the same sharp, smart eyes.
“Hey, firecracker.”
The nickname rolled off his tongue, like it always had. He and Hunter used to call her that because she always held herself in check, but when she got angry, she was a sight to behold.
She’d hated it.
It was a mistake, too, to call her that here, in front of everyone. It was a bold-faced reminder of how close they had all been a lifetime ago. But he refused to pretend things were different. They had been close…once. And now they weren’t. But, when her eyes lit, he didn’t regret using the nickname one bit. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to ruffle Meg’s feathers.
“Don’t call me that.” Where she’d been pale a moment ago, there was color in her cheeks, the prettiest pink. “We’re not kids anymore, Lance.”
“No. We’re definitely all grown up.” He let his gaze drift over her. Meg had always been tall, shooting up inches at a time in crazy growth spurts. But the girl he remembered had been thin, like a rubber band stretched too tight. The woman in front of him had grown into those long, lean limbs. Her legs went on for miles. She had a slim waist, and the arms she crossed over her pretty, high breasts were toned.
When his gaze returned to her face, his smile widened. Yep…the eyes were definitely still the same. The package might be different, but the fire was still there, and he still enjoyed riling her up.
“You look good, Meg.” It was an understatement. She looked amazing.
She glared at him, and then rolled her eyes.
“Guess they’ll let anyone in here.”
At the voice behind him, he closed his eyes, inhaling. Bracing himself. Another blast from the past. “Will.”
He turned to find Meg’s oldest brother, Will Buchanan, dropping his bag into the dirt and crossing his arms over his chest, a mirror of his sister’s stance. Behind him, Hunter, his former best friend, stared at the far off mountains, his jaw tight. Both brothers looked the same, only older. Both were taller than average, like their sister, and the years had filled them out as well.
Well, he’d come a long way in the past decade, too. He’d hoped the time might have been long enough to let cooler heads prevail.
Apparently not.
“Joe,” Will addressed his uncle. “Why is this piece of trash on our doorstep?”
Joe exhaled sharply, propping his fists on his hips. “Come on, now…”
Lance lifted his hand. “It’s okay, Joe.” He smiled. Maybe Will thought he could intimidate him. If so, the guy’s memory must have failed since Lance moved away. “Good to see you, too, Will.” He nodded his head toward Hunter. “Hunt. How are you?”
Hunter grunted, his expression guarded.
Though Will’s glare never left him, his words were for Joe. “What the hell is he doing here?”
It seemed obvious, but maybe Will needed things spelled out. “I’m in the new rookie class.”
“No way.”
The way he said it, full of outrage, pissed Lance off. He stepped closer, meeting Will’s eyes and getting right in his face. “I can assure you it’s true. I have the paperwork to prove it.”
Will didn’t back down, and Lance hadn’t expected him to. He’d spent years as a pseudo-brother to the guy. They had nearly matching hardheadedness.
As they stared at each other, any hopes that his return to Redmond wouldn’t be a disaster died. It disappointed him to discover they’d existed at all.
Hope was for idealists. He was a survivor.
One thing was painfully clear: Will was going to make this hard for him. Maybe even impossible.
Well, he wasn’t the sort to give up. If he wasn’t going to make it through training, then he planned to go down swinging.
Meg stepped into the tension between them. Placing one hand on Will’s chest, she rested the other over Lance’s heart. He didn’t look away from Will’s gaze, but the heat from her palm seeped through his T-shirt. As it laced through him, it touched places inside he refused to examine.
“Stop it, Will,” she whispered, looking up into her brother’s face. “You’re making a scene.”
No one moved, not Will, not Meg, not him.
After another pregnant moment, she added, “Please. For me.”
Will blew out, breaking the eye contact. With a fluid movement, he grabbed his bag from where he’d dropped it at his feet. He didn’t say anything else as he swept inside the air center. Hunter followed, brushing past Lance without a word.
Meg retreated a few steps, and he missed her closeness. Her head dropped, and he remembered so many times when she’d played the peacemaker. He reached for her—maybe to touch her hand, he didn’t know—but she stepped back and away. With an unreadable glance, she followed her brothers inside, leaving him staring after them all.
“So, that went well,” Dak offered under his breath.
Lance snorted. But the exchange broke the spell. He turned to Joe who rubbed the back of his neck.
“Let’s get you settled, then.” The base manager’s face had been welcoming earlier, but now it was lined with stress, making him appear much older. He moved to the door, holding it open for them as they gathered their stuff. “I put you on the far end, Lance…”
“Not my father’s cubicle?” Will had taken his father’s space, after he’d died. Lance had seen it, the one time he’d returned to the air center after the Blue Creek fire, to collect his dad’s personal effects. His mom hadn’t been able to stomach seeing the place.
“I figured you might not…what I mean is it might be best…”
Lance could see exactly what he meant. This was a chance to distance himself from his father’s history. But Lance refused to delude himself. There was nowhere to run. “That’s okay, Mr. Buchanan. I’ll take my dad’s space. Thanks.”
As Joe nodded and ducked inside, Dak caught his sleeve. “What the hell happened here?” He nudged his chin toward the building. “Those people hate you.”
This was not a conversation for the parking lot. “Let’s get settled. Maybe we can get a beer later. I might need it.”
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