High Heat (Hotshots)

by Annabeth Albert

  “Now that sounds like a plan.”

  “Of course, I’m kind of digging this whole small town Fourth of July thing too. The parade was fun.”

  “Yeah?” Garrick had lived here his whole life, so the old-fashioned parade and festival was comfortable and familiar. He’d figured Rain would be bored though, but to his surprise, Rain had been into it, waving at the floats of kids and civic organizations. “I’ll save enough energy for the town firework show tonight then. You’ll like that.”

  “I will. But Cookie won’t.” Rain laughed, then frowned as they encountered Cookie lurking at the door. She had a baleful look for them, as if she sensed she was about to miss out on some fun. “Wish Grandma would let us bring her to the party. Her dogs can deal.”

  “Her house, her rules.” Garrick shrugged as he pointed and ordered Cookie to her living room bed, a big flowered cushion Rain had found at one of the shops that carried his grandmother’s textiles. “And she was nice enough to invite my dad too. She doesn’t need Cookie adding to the chaos.”

  “Did you tell your dad that the burgers are black bean?” Rain followed him out the door and down the driveway.

  “I promised him a steak next week.” The presence of his dad made this even more of a meet-the-family thing. Not that he had an issue being a couple with Rain, but he also felt a certain...pressure to make sure the party went well.

  “Rain!” Two tall curly-haired guys with Rain’s brown eyes exited a hybrid SUV. The older one had glasses and a spiky-haired, shorter friend hanging on his arm. “Come here.”

  “You drove on your own?” Rain hurried over.

  “Three hours or more in the Prius’s back seat listening to one of Mom’s self-help audiobooks?” The younger brother did a comical shudder. “I think not. You’ll note too that we beat their drive time.”

  Brotherly hugs and introductions were exchanged, and Lark, the older one, introduced his friend as Harper, while the younger one, Skye, studied Garrick with undisguised speculation. Skye was full of stories about summer college classes while Lark and Harper were both nursing students with summer internships at the same Portland hospital where Garrick had initially been treated for his injuries. All three—or okay four, Rain included—made Garrick feel even older.

  Rather than navigate the front steps, they went around to the side gate where the backyard was decked out for the party—tie-dyed table linens, a beanbag toss game for the younger kids, coolers with drinks, various types of lawn chairs scattered around, and a truly impressive array of food. A fair number of people were already there—neighbors along with some of Shirley’s fabric arts community and a few assorted cousins. Her yappy dogs were underfoot as usual, but Shirley herself looked rejuvenated in a rainbow-dyed dress and twin gray braids down her back.

  “My boys!” She handed Garrick her phone so that he could take pictures of her beaming with all three brothers. As he was giving it back, Rain’s parents arrived. His dad was shorter than Rain’s mom with Shirley’s longer nose and sharp features, while the mom was almost as tall as Rain’s brothers with a riot of curly hair held back by a woven band. Her lean muscles gave the impression that she must live at the yoga studio. She brought carob hemp seed cookies and an appraising stare for Garrick.

  “So...this is your new friend, Rain? The one we’ve heard so much about?”

  “Uh-huh.” Rain nodded enthusiastically and made the introductions, heaping on the praise for Garrick’s rescue of Cookie and his work with the forest service.

  “You know I read the most amazing article recently about clinical massage and cannabis and chronic pain in spinal cord injuries. Fascinating stuff!” Rain’s mother enthused, bending to be more on Garrick’s level.

  “Mom. He can’t do cannabis. Drug testing for work.” Rain rolled his eyes.

  “Yet another reason it needs widespread acceptance.” Far from put off, Rain’s mother spent the next few minutes making an impassioned case for alternative healing including CBD oil and acupuncture.

  “I think I’ve seen enough needles,” Garrick demurred.

  “Just say no to her brownies,” Rain whispered in Garrick’s ear when his mom got distracted by a question from Skye. “Also, this is how she shows love. When she met Harper, she was full of nonbinary resources. When she volunteers to run a 10k race for spinal injury awareness, that’s when you’ll know she really likes you.”

  “Noted. And she’s nice. But I’m still not trying acupuncture.”

  “Not gonna get any flak from me there.” Rain glanced away toward the gate. “Your dad’s here! Can’t wait to hear what he thinks of Mom’s baking.”

  “Warn him about any...special ingredients.” Garrick waved at his dad who strode over. Looking patriotic in his usual blue jeans and a red plaid shirt, he carried a small casserole dish with potholders.

  “Brought some baked beans,” his dad said by way of greeting. “Left out the bacon I usually use.”

  “The hardship.” Laughing, Garrick pointed to the food table. “Put it over there, then come and let me introduce you to Rain’s family.”

  Rain’s mom shifted topics to the virtues of a low-sodium diet, much to the befuddlement of Garrick’s dad, but Rain’s dad got him talking about his horses and store. Lark shared information about a horse rescue operation closer to Portland, and the group settled into easy small talk before everyone helped themselves to heaping plates of food.

  Eventually, it was time for cupcakes and presents. Shirley exclaimed over each gift, including Garrick’s lumpy pouch.

  “The gift card is from Dad, too,” he added, trying to get attention off his knitting abilities. His dad’s eyebrows went up, but he didn’t say anything about Garrick’s new hobby.

  “Now, don’t you go getting embarrassed,” Shirley admonished, holding the pouch up. “It’s a fine first effort, and we all have to start somewhere.”

  “Honestly, I’m amazed Rain has stuck with the knitting as long as he has.” Rain’s mother’s tone was joking, but Rain stiffened next to Garrick nonetheless. His chair was close enough that Garrick could reach over and squeeze his arm. He had enough experience himself with familial teasing to be sympathetic toward his plight.

  “And he’s actually good at it,” Lark joined in, leaning forward on the glider swing he was sharing with Harper. “Most hobbies only last days with him. Look at those socks, though. They’re actually wearable.”

  “High praise.” Rain moved his hand like he was about to flip Lark off, then apparently thought the better of it, tucking it back by his side.

  “Come on, dude. You know you never stick to anything.” Lark didn’t seem ready to drop the subject, typical older sibling, voice light but there was a bite there as well.

  “I do too.” Mouth pursing, Rain gave his brother a hard stare.

  “Rain’s done an amazing job sticking to his workout program all summer.” Even if he was loath to wade into a family squabble, Garrick felt honor bound to defend his person.

  “Boys. And Rain, you know we love you.” Rain’s mother had a long-suffering tone as she played peacemaker. “It’s a compliment. You’re a good knitter. Now, if you could only apply that dedication to the rest of your life.”

  “Maybe I already have.”

  Even as Rain said the words, little doubts prickled up Garrick’s back. Rain was a lot of great things—loyal, affectionate, funny, hardworking—but his history with staying power wasn’t the best. He’d confessed to changing his major a number of times and even his interest in wildfire fighting felt as much like an occupational fling as a genuine calling. He’ll move on from you too. Most days Garrick could ignore that worry, live for the moment with Rain, but right then his gut churned. Damned reality again, forcing its way past his good mood.

  “And maybe Mom will go to a cheese expo.” Skye laughed. This was clearly an old sibling argument, and even if there was some trut
h to it, Garrick frowned.

  “Hey, at least you’ll be able to take the knitting with you when you bounce on to your next adventure.” Lark shrugged. And there it was, Garrick’s biggest fear—Rain wouldn’t stick around. Couldn’t. The siren call of something shiny would come his way. Garrick had known this ever since they first met, but lately things had become more complicated, his heart wanting things his brain knew damn well were impossible. He liked Rain. So damn much. But he couldn’t deny that all the like in the world wouldn’t be enough to hold Rain here.

  “I’m so sorry that not all of us have had our future completely mapped out since we were ten.” Rain’s retort did nothing to relieve the tension in Garrick’s neck.

  “At least I have a plan.” Lark looked like he wanted to say more, but his mother clapped her hands. She quickly thrust another gift at Shirley.

  “Next present!”

  The tiff died away, replaced by softer brotherly teasing about beanbag toss skills and gorging on the cupcakes. However, even hours later, Garrick still hadn’t forgotten. He and Rain had driven to a good vantage point for the town fireworks, not wanting to get caught up in the crowds at the fairgrounds but still wanting to see the show.

  Sitting on the rear hatch, Rain rested his head on Garrick’s shoulder. The stereo was softly playing as the first of the fireworks exploded in the clear night sky, soft breeze tickling their skin. One of life’s truly perfect moments, and Garrick wrapped his arms around Rain, trying to memorize his beachy scent, the solid feel of his muscles, the softness of his hair. But through it all, he couldn’t shake the knowledge that someday soon Rain would move on, and it was going to hurt like hell when he did. Even knowing that, though, he still couldn’t let go, couldn’t do anything other than hold Rain close, hope memories like this were enough to soften the inevitable heartache.

  * * *

  “Damn. How about you tell your friend in Dispatch to call us back in on account of this sun?” Bosler wiped the sweat off his forehead with a paisley bandanna. He was splitting radio duties with Rain this week, but at the moment they were all knee-deep in brambly brush, a weeklong fire prevention cleanup project.

  Rain paused in his hauling of branches to consider how best to reply. The other people on his crew had picked up on his friendship with Garrick—inevitable, really, what with them riding together so much. But he couldn’t tell whether Bosler was trying to joke with him or if he was trying to make some underlying point.

  “Eh. It’s not so hot,” Rain hedged. “You need a water break? I’ve got extra trail mix bars if you need one.”

  “Appreciate the offer, but I’m good. Just wish they had us working in a shadier part of the forest this week. I’m still recovering from the holiday weekend. How about you young guns? Who overindulged?”

  “Our prayer group did a booth at the Fourth of July festival and then a camping trip with some rock climbing.” Zeb, the earnest farmer guy who made Rain’s teeth hurt with his wholesomeness, spoke first.

  “Hope you had a good time. My family came down for my grandma’s birthday. The festival was fun too—great work from all the volunteers.”

  “Sounds like fun all around.” Bosler nodded as he got back to work.

  Honestly, though, Rain was happy to be back at work. Too much family togetherness all weekend. Too much teasing from people who should know better, who should have his freaking back, but instead wanted to act like he was still aimless and sixteen. He was still salty at his brothers because Garrick hadn’t seemed to know what to make of their heckling, alternating between defending Rain and being a little more distant than usual.

  But now his family was all back in Portland and life could get back to normal. At least everyone had seemed to like Garrick. That part had been nice, families mingling, feeling like it was a real, solid adult relationship and not some random hookup. Maybe finally his mom could believe that people other than Lark the perfect were capable of managing their own lives. God, he loved Lark, but he had a way of making Rain doubt himself, worry that maybe Garrick could do a lot better than him, worry that maybe he didn’t have what it took to hold on to something this good. Because when it was good, like on the Fourth, watching fireworks together, it was spectacular, and that was even before they reached the bedroom.

  “Crew four-five-one?” The radio on his belt crackled right as Rain was in the middle of a sexy daydream about when he might next get to sleep over at Garrick’s.

  “This is four-five-one.” Damn. He hoped he sounded normal. Not that Garrick might care, but with Bosler and the others looking a little closer at him, he didn’t need any extra teasing. He’d had enough of that this weekend.

  “We’re pulling you in.”

  A cheer erupted from the people closest to Rain, but he held up a hand to silence them.

  “Yeah, hang on there. We’re not sending you home.”

  “You’re not?”

  “We’ve got an elevated fire risk warning with a small fire to the south of us. You’re being redirected to dig line as a precaution. Crews are en route to the fire, and we’re hopeful for quick containment, but we’re going to act accordingly and get our crews in place.”

  “Understood.”

  “Tell your crew chief she can contact Ryland with questions about the logistics. You all might be in for a long day.”

  “Got it.”

  “Good. You take care now. Tell the crew to look sharp.”

  “I—we will.” The reminder to be careful might be directed mostly at Rain, but he tried to stay professional. He wanted to ask Garrick how he was getting back if Rain was out late, but he refrained. Garrick would get a ride—Ryland or his dad or another friend. Even Rain’s grandma had given him rides a couple of times. He’d be fine, but Rain still knew a pang for the early evening he’d been hoping for, the two of them and Cookie and no family members bugging them.

  “Do hotshot crews spend so much time digging?” he asked some hours later as sweat ran down his muscles, every muscle screaming in protest. He swigged water along with the others who were taking a moment, but the sky was hazy with heat and smoke and they couldn’t afford too long a break. Nightfall was coming and they’d been told they’d be making the long drive back to base soon. Meanwhile, the fire command was debating whether this fire was adequately contained or whether they needed to set up a fire camp and other infrastructure needed for a longer fight.

  “Oh, we all dig.” Bosler laughed. “But they see more real action for sure. You got a taste for the front line, kid?”

  “Someday, maybe. I applied all around but didn’t have enough experience yet, I guess. This job will help.”

  “Well, they’re hiring hotshots for the second half of the season down in the LA area. Those jobs sometimes last into November. My brother’s a crew chief down there. You want me to pass him your application?”

  “You’d do that for me?” Rain hadn’t been under the impression that Bosler liked him that much, but the older man nodded.

  “Sure I would. You’ve got that look about you. Hungry. You’d do well. God knows you’ve been spending your summer getting ripped. How many pull-ups you up to now?”

  “Did a personal best of ten the other day. I could probably pass the fitness test for a hotshot crew, yeah.”

  “You train with Nelson, right?” Zeb asked. “I need to find me a personal trainer. Next season, I’m gonna make a hotshot crew here for sure. Not California, though.” He gave a comical shudder. “Couldn’t pay me to leave home. Gonna marry my girl, stay local. California, that’s too far.”

  “Nah. I’ve done seasons all over the West.” Bosler gave a dismissive gesture like he was older than dirt, which wasn’t too far from the truth. Rain worried about him some, long hot days like this. “It’s a good crew my brother’s got going there. You let me know, Fisher. I’ll put a word in for you. Hard worker like you and a thirst for the big city
life—you’d probably be happier with their culture for sure.”

  “Thanks.” Rain wasn’t entirely sure whether Bosler meant the area’s lack of nightlife or a more subtle reference to him being queer, but he also seemed perfectly willing to help Rain get a prime chance at career advancement, so Rain wasn’t going to question his motives too closely. Instead, he thought about the chance at a hotshot crew the rest of the shift.

  A few months ago, he would have leaped at it, for sure. Excitement? Danger? New place? Closer to a city? Yes, please. Sign him up. But now...

  Everything was different now. Confusing. Brain muddled, he finally made his way home, stars already out and twinkling. Garrick’s living room light was on though, and Rain could see the shadow of the TV. Even dragging as he was, he still wanted to make sure that someone had seen to Cookie, so he sent Grandma a fast text that he was at Garrick’s place.

  Already in bed, dearest. Food in the fridge, she texted back as he crossed the street.

  “Damn. You look like crap.” Garrick shook his head when he answered the door.

  “Gee. Tell it to me nice, will you? I do have some ego, you know.” And okay, Rain could admit it, he’d wanted to see Garrick, too, not simply check on Cookie. Garrick’s welcoming smile was better than any post-work drink.

  “I know, baby. And I’m happy to see you, I am. But you look about ten seconds from falling over. Have you eaten?” Leaning heavily on his crutches, Garrick had clearly been home longer than Rain. His hair was damp, the scent of his shampoo filling the night air, and he’d changed into sweats.

  “Snacks. I’ll get some food. Just wanted to see if Cookie needed a w-a-l-k.” He spelled out the word since she was right there, looking eager.

  “You need dinner more than she needs out. Come on in. Let me feed you.” Garrick headed toward the kitchen, leaving Rain and Cookie to follow. “My dad was here. We took her out for some nice exercise. And guess what he brought?”