Wild Fire

by M. L. Buchman

  “But you come from a great family and you don’t want that for yourself?”

  She shook her head, but kept her peace.

  Gordon stared at the low ceiling and listened to the plane’s roar. This time the silence lasted long enough that he could feel Ripley finally fall asleep.

  He’d come from a train wreck of a family, and yet there was little he wanted more in his life. He wanted to feel that closeness. He wanted to be like Mark and Emily were with their kids. To care so much about a woman that, like Vern, he’d be paralyzed by fear at the thought of harm coming to her. Gordon wanted so much!

  If only he wasn’t one of those guys who always thought too much. He wished he could simply…be. Be content with the what he had, but another layer always ticked away in the back of his mind.

  When he flew, he was always aware of everything happening around him. How it all fit together. He’d always imagined that was Mark’s view from farther aloft.

  Holding Ripley, it was only too easy to imagine them being anything but temporary. Together they’d…

  Prove what an idiot he was. His stupid planning self was running away with him just as it had with Vanessa, and Tabby before that. And Sue in college, Danielle in high school, and…crap!

  Then he nuzzled Ripley’s hair again. This was different though. Maybe just because he’d had so much practice at fooling himself over the years. But there was one piece of the puzzle he’d never been able to picture completely over the years: how a woman would want to be with him for all that time. Somehow in his idle daydreams of family, he’d always stood to the outside.

  He could picture himself with Ripley so easily that it made him feel a little intrusive—as if he was shoving his way into a fantasy he’d never belonged in before.

  Gordon smiled to himself. For just a moment he imagined what it would be like if for once he was right and there was the possibility of a future with this amazing woman. That, he decided, was a thought worthy of Wonder Woman herself.

  Chapter Eight

  This trip was a rude shock to Ripley’s system and they hadn’t even landed in Hawaii for refueling yet. She’d made the trip enough times to know that the long flight and the time change would just make a jumble of everything for a few days. She was okay with that.

  Waking up in Gordon’s arms was a far more disconcerting thing. And as she lay there listening to him sleep—and thoroughly enjoying the sensation—she wondered what had just happened to her life.

  She’d spent the whole season flying to fire—six days on and one day off per US Forest Service regulations. She’d had a total of one date…which hadn’t survived dinner well enough to even justify dessert. Mostly she’d hung out with the other pilots and talked fire. On her day off she did laundry, slept, and checked to see if there were any new science fiction movies or local theater Shakespeare productions. Her parents had definitely given her a split personality.

  Like the one that had her lying in Gordon’s arms.

  She eased away slowly, then watched to see if she’d woken him. He curled into the spot she’d just left and continued to sleep.

  Then she turned and almost slammed into Vanessa, who stood stock still, clearly watching them both for some time. She blinked hard several times before her eyes focused.

  “Sorry,” Vanessa blushed fiercely. “I was staring, wasn’t I? I—” but nothing further came out. She turned and bolted away through the cabin; her hurried steps fading away quickly due to the steady background of the four roaring jet engines.

  Ripley debated for only a moment before following. Past the sleeping couples sprawled in their seats. Janet blinked at Ripley’s rapid progress and then followed softly, leaving Brad asleep. She really didn’t need another person. But by the time the two of them were passing Denise, she too was up and on her feet.

  “Is Vanessa okay?” Denise asked in that pseudo-whisper that was louder than the backwash of the jet engines, but too soft to wake anyone.

  Ripley shrugged, shook her head, looked at the two determined women, shrugged again, and turned to go find Vanessa.

  It wasn’t hard.

  The passenger cabin ran only thirty meters from the front pressure door to the tail. At the far back of the cabin—past the rows of three hard-worn blue airplane seats to either side of the windowless cabin lit by a longline of failing fluorescents—was a small service area.

  Vanessa had come to a halt at the very rear. Her faced pressed to the tiny round window in the rearmost exit door. There were a few small benches for the occasional flight attendants. The three of them sat quietly and waited.

  After a long time, Vanessa turned, her eyes widening when she saw all three of them. She glanced up the aisle leading back to the forward part of the cabin longingly.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Denise warned. “I’m too pregnant to be chasing you up and down the plane.”

  Vanessa nodded, but still didn’t sit.

  “Did you suddenly discover you’re pregnant or something?” Janet asked.

  Ripley always wondered how Janet did that, asking the bluntest questions with such charm that it was impossible to take offense.

  Vanessa only shook her head.

  “Well, then what’s up, girlfriend?” As far as Ripley knew, these were the first words that Janet had said to Vanessa, but that never slowed her down either.

  But Vanessa didn’t turn to her, she kept facing Ripley. “I am sorry I was doing the staring at you.”

  Ripley shrugged, “You’re not the only one that’s surprised by my behavior.” She tapped her own chest.

  “Slut!” Janet teased her.

  “You don’t even know what I was doing.”

  “Don’t need to, not if it was with Gordon. He’s a sweetie.”

  Ripley decided the closest route to sanity was to ignore Janet.

  “I was only wishing,” again Vanessa blushed, then she finally sat on the last remaining seat in the cramped stewardess area, “that I could have made Gordon look as happy as he did when he is holding you. And that I could have looked happy like you too.”

  Now it was Ripley’s turn to feel somewhat flummoxed. Did she look that way in Gordon’s arms? She certainly felt— It didn’t matter.

  “I’m not the one who’s upset.”

  Vanessa raised her fine-fingered hands for a long moment, then dropped them to her lap again.

  “You were going to protest that you’re not upset. But it didn’t work.” Ripley didn’t make it a question.

  Vanessa didn’t argue.

  “So?” Janet reached out and poked Vanessa’s knee. “Give.”

  “I don’t know. I kissed Gordon yesterday—I’m sorry about that, I really am.” She rested her hand on Ripley’s for a moment and squeezed before withdrawing. “I should not have done the intruding.”

  Ripley discovered that Vanessa was a very easy woman to forgive and did so.

  “He is such a nice man. I look at the two of you and I do not understand why it is not me. Why am I not the one so happy in his arms? He is the man who should be right for me.” Vanessa hid her face in her hands.

  Ripley scooted closer so that she could slip a hand around Vanessa’s waist and looked at Denise and Janet in some panic. She had no idea what to do next as the shudders rolled up Vanessa’s spine beneath her hand. Ripley lived in a man’s firefighting world and upset women were outside of her normal experience.

  And she especially didn’t know what to do with Vanessa’s statement. Had she really been that happy to be sleeping with Gordon? Happiness with a man was something that she had even less experience with. Even in the good times, Weasel had been at most…comfortable. Had she really been so desperate as to settle for comfortable?

  Apparently so. It had taken a man like Gordon to put that into perspective. It didn’t seem fair that she had to wait until her thirties to get some perspective about men.

  That’s when Ripley remembered Brenna’s comment at The Doghouse, that there was one way that men an
d women could be as close as Gordon and Vanessa were and still not be attracted. Well, two ways, but they clearly weren’t brother and sister.

  That meant…

  “Oh, honey,” Ripley didn’t know where that came from as she leaned over to kiss the woman’s brow. Some deep part of her suddenly wanted to mother Vanessa. That she was at most five years Vanessa’s senior didn’t matter.

  She looked desperately at Denise and Janet, but neither of them had been there. Ripley could see it so clearly now. She and Gordon, and Vanessa and Brenna standing in The Doghouse parking lot with Mark Henderson. Vanessa and Brenna had been holding hands in mutual support. But what if it was more than that?

  Brenna was Denise’s assistant. Denise was likely to know her preferences.

  And that was when Ripley finally understood the whole problem. Vanessa might have been holding Brenna’s hand in mutual support, but Brenna definitely had been doing more than that. She’d been seeing if she was right with her guess from the night before.

  Being gay could definitely be a reason for Vanessa to find no fire with Gordon—especially not if his inner alpha male stepped out of hiding. Based on Ripley’s own limited experience, holding a beautiful woman in his arms was enough to make that happen every time.

  But if Vanessa didn’t know that about herself, any attraction to Brenna would definitely be giving her trouble.

  “Is there a reason that you’re on this plane and Brenna is flying on the other one?” Ripley asked Vanessa the question before she could stop herself.

  Denise gasped as the pieces fit together for her.

  Vanessa kept her head down, but her nod was clear despite the forward slide of her hair hiding her face. “She was really nice. Just asked a question… I suppose that I wasn’t ready to hear it.”

  Ripley didn’t know what to say. Denise obviously didn’t either.

  Janet came through without even an eye blink, “Brenna’s hot, girlfriend. You should definitely go for it.”

  That jolted Vanessa into looking up at them. “But I’m—”

  “Female and single,” Janet stated merrily before Vanessa had a chance to complete her thought. “Hell, if I were single, I might go for her myself, but Brad would only get depressed if I did. Besides, I’m a guy kind of gal. So, it’s gonna have to be you.”

  The strident tone of the engines shifted, easing back as the Antonov began its descent into Honolulu International.

  “Huh,” was all Vanessa finally managed, but the look of severe distress was gone. “That is a thought I am still not ready for…but it is a thought.”

  “And you!”

  Ripley flinched at the force of Janet’s sudden attention.

  “High five, Wonder Woman!” Janet held up a hand and Ripley felt obliged to slap it.

  Denise did the same.

  Vanessa leaned her shoulder into Ripley’s, “I told you he is a good man. I like to know that you are a good woman.”

  If Ripley had trouble forming friendships with men, that was nothing compared to forming them with women. The Navy was intensely competitive between pilots, all striving for the cherry assignments—the few female pilots not exempted. And flying the Aircrane, her only female friend had been Janet because there weren’t any others aloft at Erickson.

  In a day of startling revelations, she decided that she rather liked this latest one. Against all odds, Ripley Vaughan has just found two more female friends. How cool was that.

  When the seatbelt sign flicked on, they buckled in where they were and spent the descent chatting about nothing in particular.

  Chapter Nine

  Gordon couldn’t figure out what had changed during the flight.

  Vanessa’s smile was most of the way back when they clambered out into Hawaii’s thick and humid air. It wasn’t particularly hot, still an hour to dawn, but the pine-washed clarity of Oregon air had been replaced by the thick sea salt-and-palm atmosphere of the tropical island. He wanted shorts and a t-shirt, but the one change of clothes in his personal gear bag were jeans and long-sleeved shirt just as he was wearing now.

  Where Vanessa was cheerier, Ripley was more subdued and thoughtful. He could feel her eyes tracking him as the two crews stretched their legs while staying clear of the refueling teams pumping seventy-five thousand gallons of Jet A from the underground pipelines up into each aircraft. Their helicopters were such a light load for the massive Antonovs, far more air than weight, that they’d be able to make the hop to Australia in one more flight.

  Gordon approached Ripley a few times, but she veered off sharply each time. Finally getting the message, he wandered over to see how the folks on the other Antonov were faring.

  “I’m up almost two hundred,” Robin greeted him. “Henderson is down fifty. I love playing poker with these guys.” She patted Mickey’s cheek.

  Gordon looked at Mickey, who grimaced. “Well, at least most of it stayed in the family.”

  “All mine, sucker,” Robin clamped a hand over her jeans pocket.

  Mickey swept her into a deep kiss…and Robin caught his fingers halfway into her pocket. She twisted them hard enough for Mickey to grunt in pain, but kept her other hand clamped behind his neck so that he couldn’t break the kiss. Mickey gave up on the money and focused on the winning tactic, which caused Robin to melt against him.

  Gordon now had a taste of what that felt like. And he definitely wanted more.

  “Gordon,” Mark slapped him on the shoulder. Moments later he somehow ended up in the other Antonov with Mark. By the time he heard the engines cycling back to life, it was too late to switch back to his own plane. He looked around and only Mickey and Robin were in the cabin with him and Mark.

  Vanessa, who he’d really meant to make some time to talk to, was on the other plane. As was Ripley, who he definitely wanted to talk to. Even Brenna had switched aircraft along with the rest of team. Apparently he was on the unpopular aircraft…or had Mark engineered something?

  The Antonov eased onto the runway and then opened up its four massive engines. With only the light load of the helicopters, they accelerated and pulled aloft quickly. Now it was just the four of them sitting on the bench seats at one of the tables.

  Betsy, TJ, Chutes, and the rest of the ground team had stayed with the smokejumpers. Smokies were the ultimate deep wilderness fire specialists, used very rarely outside the US, Canada, and Russia. They jumped in when the fire started far from any other resources, such as roads. Though more than half the time the MHA smokies were delivered by the far less dangerous helitack method, using longlines and winches if there was no convenient clearing to land the helicopters in. Certainly no call for them in Australia.

  Australian bushfires occurred in two main varieties. There were the forest fires, typically occurring in the more heavily populated areas. And there were the fires that swept across the dry Outback, typically burning through grasses and other low plants, but at incredible speed. In that type of fire, the wind could drive flames along at ninety or a hundred kilometers an hour, which would overrun any ground team. Australian fires were fought much more from the air than American ones because it was often the only viable option.

  Gordon knew all of this intellectually, but he’d never actually been Down Under.

  And that’s where Henderson started with him, discussing the nature of fighting bushfire over cups of burnt coffee and stale donuts in the upper cabin of the lead Antonov. Mickey and Robin sat beside them, quietly sparring over who got the last jelly-filled one.

  Wasn’t it enough that Mark was always pushing him while he was piloting? Had he now isolated him on this aircraft for some reason? At least Robin and Mickey were still around.

  Robin grabbed a deck of cards to decide the matter of the donut, Mickey held up his hands in defeat. She grinned in triumph. While she had both hands occupied slipping the cards back into the box, Mickey grabbed the donut in question. Mickey, who Gordon had always thought was a very savvy man, raced away down the aisle crowing in triumph. Rob
in was hot on his tracks.

  “No question how that’s going to end,” Mark grunted out.

  “Not much,” Gordon agreed, envying them a bit. The woman he was wanting hot steamy sex with was flying a half dozen kilometers behind them.

  “What about you?”

  Gordon looked at him, “What about me? Are you actually asking who I’m having sex with?”

  “The who is obvious and no I wasn’t.”

  “Well I’m not,” Gordon wasn’t sure why he’d admitted that.

  Mark looked at him like he was an idiot.

  “Crap, Mark. I’ve known the woman for two days.”

  “I’m still not asking. Feel free to stop sharing anytime you want.”

  Gordon opened his mouth to protest that Mark was just messing with him for the hell of it, then thought better of it and shut the hell up. He bit down on a powdered donut. The confectioner’s sugar caught wrong on an inhale, and when he tried to cough it back out, he ended up creating a powder cloud out his mouth and nose. A sip of the burnt coffee didn’t help at all.

  Mark simply waited until he was done with trying to throttle himself.

  Gordon finally nodded for him to talk, unsure of his own ability to do so.

  Then Mark smiled, “Should I bet fifty against the two of you making it to three days before climbing into the sack?”

  Gordon gave him the finger and Mark laughed.

  “Seriously,” Mark sobered between one breath and the next, “tell me what we could have done to save the MHA camp.”

  Gordon felt it like a slap, not from Mark, but rather to his heart. “Before or after it started? Before, we could have cleared a lot of the ground fuels. Parked out the last hundred meters so that there was no underbrush to burn and no dead branches on the tree trunks to take the fire up into the crown.”

  “How about after it started?”

  That stumped him. Gordon thought about what he could recall of the various aerial tactics. There hadn’t been time to deploy any ground forces.