Inches. I was moving inches.
And I was out of time.
I was going to get cooked against this rock like a virgin sacrifice to an ancient fire-breathing dragon.
Yeah, there was no way I was going out like that.
Reaching for my radio one last time, I called Chief. “Jumping back down. Deploying fire shelter. Come get me when it’s over, Chief.”
I didn’t have time to wait for his reply. For the second time today, I jumped off the side of a cliff.
I rolled into the fall. The last thing I needed to do was break a leg trying to stick the landing. I launched to my feet and ran to where I’d left my pack.
Another blast of hot air hit me and for a second, I thought it might be too late. Voices talked to me over the radio, but I didn’t have time to stop and answer. In about thirty seconds, fire was going to engulf the valley, eating up everything in its path. If we’d done enough at the top, it would stop there. The crew and the houses beyond would be safe.
As for me, that was a little less certain.
I ripped the fire shelter out of my pack and grabbed the handles. Turned my back on the fire and shook it out. The fabric shelter was a bit like a six-foot long silver Twinkie. I guess that made me the cream filling. Probably a bad metaphor, and I didn’t know why I was thinking about junk food right now.
The hot wind made deploying the shelter a huge pain in the ass. But I’d practiced this dozens of times with leaf blowers aimed at me to simulate these conditions.
Time seemed to slow. The twenty seconds it took me to deploy the shelter and take cover felt like minutes. I stepped into the footwell, put my body through the rectangular hole in the shelter’s floor, and covered myself. Then I hit the dirt, face down, with the shelter around me. I pinned it to the relatively cool ground with my elbows, knees, and the toes of my boots. Its main job, besides keeping the fire from burning me alive, was to trap breathable air. There was about to be a severe lack of oxygen down here. I needed a good supply of air if I was going to live through this.
For a second, everything went silent. Nothing but the sound of my breath echoing inside the shelter.
Then the roar.
Holy shit, it was so fucking loud. Gritting my teeth, I held the shelter down with my hands, elbows, knees, and feet. Hot wind buffeted me, like a tornado was ripping through the valley. I wondered if I’d be able to stay on the ground. The heat was intense, even through the protective layers of the shelter.
Bits of debris hit me and a nearby tree—or something—burst into flame with an ear-splitting boom. It sounded like the fucking apocalypse out there.
I didn’t know how long the burnover would last. Could be fifteen minutes. Could be longer. I decided to be ready for the worst and hope for the best. That a rescue team would be down here before I’d even peeked outside to see if it was safe yet.
The flames roared over me, hellish and loud. I could just hear Chief’s voice over my radio. Telling me to stay calm. Stay put. Don’t move. Breathe.
I listened to him, my only link to the world of the living, while the inferno raged mere inches from my skin. Glad I wasn’t completely alone.
This sucked, but at least I was going to live.
I was pretty sure, anyway.
Contrary to what my brothers liked to say, I didn’t have a death wish. I just liked to have fun. Hell, I had the opposite of a death wish. I wanted to live big. I knew all too well how easily life could be taken away. I wasn’t going to waste mine.
Fuck that.
Sweat dripped off my nose, landing in the dirt. The air was starting to feel stale and close. It was hot as fuck in here. I felt like a baked potato. Probably looked like one, too.
Would the oxygen last long enough?
It fucking better.
The wind kicked up again, blasting over me in hot waves. The noise drowned out whatever the voices in the radio were trying to tell me. I thought I caught the word bucket. Hopefully that meant the helitack crew was overhead with a bucket drop. They’d douse the area with fire suppressant, which would mean getting to me sooner.
More debris rained down on me. I shifted my legs to keep the shelter pinned down tight. My throat was dry and scratchy, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that. I just coughed into the dirt and hoped nothing big landed on me.
Gradually, the hellish noise receded. The air outside seemed to still, or at least stop whipping over me like a fucking tornado. I knew it was too soon to check conditions, but damn, I wanted to. It was hard to keep from jumping up to look around. But if I moved too soon, I’d get a lungful of hot ash and die in seconds.
I’d come this far, I wasn’t going to die now. Not when all I needed was a little patience.
Next time one of my brothers called me impulsive, I was totally pulling out this story.
Thinking of my brothers made me think of Gram. I hoped she didn’t know what was happening. I’d tell her later, and watch while she shook her head and breathed out a sigh of relief that, once again, her youngest cub had defied the odds.
Not that she’d be surprised. I always did.
The roar of the inferno didn’t return. Either it was burning itself out or the bucket drop had worked to dampen the intensity here. It was probably safe to break the seal on the shelter and peek out at ground level, but I decided to wait a little longer, just in case.
“Gav, check in when you can.” Chief’s voice was monotone, all business. Professional. But I knew him. I could hear the worry he was trying to hide.
Time was hard to judge with my heart pounding and my limbs tingling from all the adrenaline coursing through my system. So I counted backward from three hundred. Five minutes, give or take, and I’d check my surroundings.
I got to four hundred, no new sounds.
Three hundred. No debris.
Two hundred. The air seemed still.
One hundred. Nothing new.
Down to sixty and I was pretty sure a second wall of flame wasn’t coming. But I made myself count all the way to one anyway.
I felt like I’d been encased in concrete, my careful movements sending cracks snaking across the surface. I was going to feel this tomorrow. Shifting a little, I pulled the edge of the shelter out from under me and looked.
Everything was black and red.
The air was still thick with ash and smoke, and glowing embers peppered the landscape. It was hot, but not deadly hot. Just I-don’t-want-to-be-down-here-too-long hot. The air I’d trapped in my shelter now seemed fresh and clean compared to the thick post-burn atmosphere. But I could breathe.
I got to my feet and let the fire shelter fall. It looked like the end of the fucking world. Trees blackened, debris everywhere. I turned around and saw that the side of the hill was scorched clean.
I grabbed my radio. “Chief, it’s Gavin. You wanna get me out of here now?”
“Holy shit, Gav,” he said, a rare burst of emotion coming through in his tone. “They’re coming for you. Are you injured?”
“Don’t think so. Did everyone get out in time?”
“Yeah, everyone’s fine, including the kid you saved. They’re transporting him to the hospital. Crews are on their way to the command post.”
I closed my eyes for a second and let out a breath. Fuck yes. “Awesome.”
A helicopter whirred overhead. Thank fuck I didn’t have to climb out of this hell hole.
“I see the chopper. Get some beer on ice for me. I could really use a cold one.”
“You and me both, son. Don’t jump out of the helicopter on your way back.”
I cracked a smile. “No intention of that, Chief.”
The helicopter hovered above, the wind kicking up ash and dust. I pulled my bandana up to keep the worst of it out of my lungs and shielded my face with my arm. The crew lowered a rescue line and it was the best thing I’d seen all day.
They took me to the landing pad near the command post. Eric, one of TFD’s paramedics, was there to meet me. Obviou
sly I could walk under my own power, but he insisted on bringing me to the aid station to get checked out. I complied.
No injuries. My skin felt a little tender, but the mild burns didn’t require any treatment. Mostly I was just dirty, tired, and dehydrated. Eric made me down a bottle of pink shit—an electrolyte drink—before he’d let me go, then gave me strict instructions on my hydration protocol for the next twenty-four hours.
I assured him I’d be a good boy and drink my liquids. I didn’t tell him a lot of that was going to be beer as soon as I got back to town.
Levi stalked over to the aid station, looking like he was ready to do what the fire hadn’t—kill me.
“Holy shit, you scared the fuck out of me.” He grabbed me and hauled me into a bear hug.
I hugged him, slapping his back a few times. “I’m fine, bro.”
“That was stupid.” He pulled away to look at me. “Really fucking stupid.”
“What part was stupid? The part where I saved a guy’s life?”
His brow creased and he shook his head. “You almost died today. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“No, I lived today.” I took another swig of the pink shit. “And so did Robby.”
“You keep taking chances like that and one of these days your gamble won’t fucking pay off. Nobody wins every time.”
I grinned at him. “I do.”
That only made him angrier. “You were reckless, Gav. You can’t be reckless in this job.”
I stepped closer. “That kid would have died if I hadn’t gone down there. We both know that. I had my PPE. The fire shelter did its job.”
His jaw hitched.
“Come on.” I slung an arm around his shoulder. “I need to go check in with Chief.”
An hour later, and after a similar lecture from Chief, Levi and I headed back to town for a mandatory forty-eight-hour rest period. I didn’t want it—one night with a few beers and a shower, and I’d be good to go tomorrow. But regulations were regulations, and as everyone kept pointing out, a fire shelter deployment was a big deal.
I texted Logan on the way to the station, sending him a covert selfie of me and Levi. We were on different shifts, so he’d be heading out to the fire front in the morning.
We got to the station and I decided I wanted that beer now. And yeah, I kinda wanted to go hang out and brag about my near miss. The grime left on my face would just make the story more exciting.
“Bro, we can shower later,” I said. “Let’s go get a beer. Come on, I almost died today.”
Levi glared at me.
My phone binged with a text from Logan. He and some of the guys were already at the Caboose.
“I’m walking over to the Caboose. You can do what you want.”
“Whatever,” Levi said. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”
“Suit yourself, bro. I’ll buy you a beer when you get there.”
The Caboose was only a few blocks from the station. Still a little high on adrenaline, I walked to the restaurant and bar that had been our prime hangout for years. Logan and a few more guys were in the parking lot.
“There’s the baked brotato,” Logan called.
He and the other guys gave me a round of applause. I paused at the curb to bow before crossing the street.
“Just a day at the office,” I called, grinning as I stepped off the sidewalk. “You guys—”
BAM!
I hit the pavement, blinding pain shooting through me, and my head swam with confusion. The weirdest thought went through my mind.
Did I just survive a forest fire only to get hit by a fucking car?
3
Skylar
Oh my god.
I wasn’t breathing. Air rushed into my lungs in a gasp and I pried my hands off the steering wheel.
I’d just hit someone.
With my car.
Move, Skylar. Call 911. Do something.
I flew out and rushed to where he lay on the pavement a few feet from my front bumper. He lifted his head and blinked at me. And then he did the strangest thing.
He smiled.
The corners of his mouth turned upward, and through the dirt on his face, I could see a very cute set of dimples.
Why was I thinking about how cute his dimples were? I’d just hit this man.
“Hey,” he said.
I crouched next to him. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Of course you’re not okay. I’ll call 911.”
Our gazes met, and for a second, I was frozen. His soft brown eyes held mine captive and warmth filled me. Butterflies in my stomach suddenly took flight, flapping their tiny wings. Unable to stop myself, I reached out and gently smoothed his hair back from his forehead.
God, he was gorgeous.
He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but several men ran over from the adjacent parking lot, breaking the spell.
“Holy shit, Gavin.”
“Are you okay?”
“Can you move?”
I stood and fumbled for my phone, but one of them put a hand on my arm.
“It’s okay, I’m already on with dispatch.” He had a phone to his ear. “We’re TFD.”
TFD. Tilikum Fire Department. These guys were firefighters? That was lucky.
“Hang in there, broller coaster,” one of the guys said. He was kneeling next to the victim. My victim. “You’re all right.”
“I tried to stop,” I said, although no one was paying attention to me. But it was true. I’d come around the corner and he’d walked right out in front of me. He hadn’t even looked.
It wasn’t long before an ambulance arrived, lights flashing. Soon after, a police cruiser. The paramedics loaded Gavin onto a gurney. At least I hadn’t killed him. Not instantly, at least. My mind cataloged everything I knew about internal injuries. Why were they being so slow? He could be bleeding out right before our eyes and—
“Miss?”
I gasped. Someone was trying to talk to me. “What?”
A man in his fifties wearing a sheriff’s department uniform placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get out of the street, okay?”
“I didn’t mean to hit him. He walked out right in front of me. I tried to stop. I hit the brakes—”
“I know.” His voice was calm and soothing. “He’s going to be okay.”
“But they should really check for internal bleeding. He could have ruptured his spleen. Or worse, his liver. You can live without a spleen. Liver, not so much. And the bleeding could kill him if left unchecked.”
“They’re taking good care of him.” He guided me onto the sidewalk. “What’s your name?”
“Skylar Stanley.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you related to Norman Stanley?”
“Yeah. He’s my dad.”
“Okay. I’ll call him.”
Great. I get into town and the first thing I do is run over someone. Way to make your daddy proud, Skylar.
They closed the ambulance doors. I started to ask if I should go with him, but snapped my mouth closed. That didn’t make any sense. The paramedics were taking care of him; he didn’t need me.
But I was still oddly disappointed to see him go.
There was clearly something wrong with me. Had I hit my head on the steering wheel? Maybe I needed medical attention.
The small crowd disappeared, and the cop—he introduced himself as Jack Cordero—moved my car so it was parked on the side of the road. Then he checked my license and registration and asked me a lot of questions about what had happened. I answered as best I could, trying to be a grown-up and not burst into tears.
It was hard.
But I didn’t want to be one of those weepy girls who’d make a scene in an attempt to get out of trouble. It had been an accident—he knew it, and so I did I—but still.
Although maybe hitting a pedestrian on my first day in town was just par for the course at this point. My entire life was in shambles. Why not make it a little worse?
In the last six months I’d been dropped by my publisher, then cheated on and dumped by my boyfriend. As a consequence, I’d lost my literary agent—because that was what happened when you dated your agent and he cheated on you and subsequently dumped you. I’d lost my apartment—it had been his, not mine—and decided to move back to the town I hadn’t lived in since I was in kindergarten.
Because, you know, moving in with your dad when you were in your mid-twenties because you basically had nowhere else to go and your career was in the toilet was every girl’s dream.
Eventually, Dad pulled up in his Tilikum Fire Department truck. Just the sight of his face, with all that parental sympathy in his eyes, sent a few tears trailing down my cheeks. I quickly swiped them away.
“Skylar, are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“She wasn’t going very fast,” Jack Cordero said. “Turned the corner right as Gavin started to cross the street.”
“She hit Gav?” Dad asked, his eyes widening.
Jack nodded, and it was so weird, but he almost didn’t seem surprised. Like his expression said, of course she hit Gavin, who else would it have been?
“Do you need anything else from her, or is she free to go?” Dad asked.
“We’re good here.”
They shook hands.
“Thanks, Jack. Appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
Dad turned to me and let out a long breath. He looked tired and worn, like he hadn’t slept in a while. “Let’s go home.”
Home. Such a strange concept. I didn’t feel like I had one anymore.
“Okay.”
Before I got in my car, I glanced over my shoulder, looking in the direction the ambulance had gone. Wondering if Gavin was okay.
4
Skylar
I parked next to my dad’s truck and gazed up at his old two-story house. I’d lived here when I was little, but I didn’t remember much of that time. Only bits and pieces.
It was odd that he’d kept it. When he and Mom had divorced twenty years ago, Mom had packed me up and taken me with her to her hometown of Spokane, several hours away. Dad had stayed here, living all by himself in this big four-bedroom house. Even though I rarely came to Tilikum to visit—he usually drove to Spokane to visit me—he hadn’t downsized.
Rushing In: A Small Town Family Romance Page 3
