would have thought that his closest friend wouldn’t require him to be “on” every second. That’s what he’d loved about Lexie. From the first time they’d met in high school, she’d seemed to understand that he needed to be quiet sometimes, that his perpetual optimism and outgoing nature wasn’t everything he was. She didn’t ask him ad nauseam what was wrong if he was quiet or contemplative. She didn’t try to joke him back into an “up” mood.
God, he missed her. When she’d kicked him out, he’d gone out of his way to be nice, solicitous, the perfect gentleman. He could win anyone over with a smile. But his smile hadn’t worked. Maybe he should have let her know how hurt he was, how lost he was without her. Instead, he’d thrown himself into his work to avoid the pain of her rejection and he’d rarely seen her, hoping that she’d miss him as much as he missed her—and take him back.
Jackson slouched against the green wall of the ranger station. His neck was stiff and his body sluggish, unused as it was to this time zone and abused by a fitful night of horror-chased dreams on the airplane. He needed to see Heidi again soon. He’d forgotten to give her the souvenir he’d brought home, so distracted was he by seeing Lexie pregnant.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Lex?” No one had wanted to tell Jackson about this baby, this gift. Lexie most of all. Wasn’t that a kick in the head? Jackson still loved her, and she couldn’t even tell him they were pregnant again.
As the silence lingered, Jackson experienced a moment of doubt. Was Logan seeing Lex? It was always the best friend, wasn’t it?
“Lexie isn’t any of my business,” Logan said finally, giving Jackson a level look. “Never has been.”
Jackson released the breath he’d been holding, turning his attention to his other burning question. Painful as it was, Jackson had to ask. “She’s not…seeing anyone, is she?”
After looking around the lot at the men assembled there, Logan shook his head.
“The baby is mine,” Jackson said with more force than he had intended.
“Everyone in town knows who knocked her up,” Logan admitted with an easy grin.
“Yeah, I’m going to have another baby.” Jackson grinned, too. He thought he’d given up on that dream a long time ago. Part of him was overjoyed, yet frustration seethed just beneath the surface. Another baby wasn’t enough. He needed Lexie back.
His smile faded.
“What’s up with you?” Logan asked, scrutinizing Jackson’s expression.
Jackson tried to smile, but his cheeks felt heavy. Finally, he spoke, drawing his words out slowly. “Do you remember that fire a couple of years ago in Hell’s Canyon?”
Logan nodded, casting his gaze out toward two men whose voices were raised, bodies angled toward each other in anger.
Seeing Logan glaring at them, the two men went to separate corners of the station. Although not nearly as broad as Jackson, Logan was a couple of inches taller and didn’t take crap from anyone. The team knew better than to mess around with Logan when it came to discipline.
“Bitch of a fire,” Logan noted.
“That fire kicked our butts and singed our whiskers,” Jackson agreed.
“Everybody made it out alive,” Logan pointed out. “What with the steep slopes, erratic winds, and Incident Command telling us to pull back and regroup three different times, I wasn’t sure we’d all make it out safely. Not that you ever doubted it.”
Jackson made a noncommittal sound. He’d thought at the time that the brass had pulled them back too soon, but now he wasn’t so sure. When he thought about it, he was surprised that more firefighters weren’t lost to the powerful devastation of fire every year.
He didn’t used to feel that way. Hot Shots lived for the exhilaration of a fire. They didn’t fight fires with bulky protective jackets as city firemen did. Fire trucks? Hell, no. Hot Shots fought fire in fire-resistant clothing and hand tools. Mano a mano. Battling such a powerful force was addictive. Some guys never wanted to give up the rush. Most Hot Shots were forced out when they could no longer meet the physical demands of the job.
Or when they lost their nerve.
Jackson swallowed the bitter thought. In his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined he’d be one of the washouts.
Loser was more like it.
Jackson sighed. “I thought we were invincible after we got that fire under control.” In his mind, he relived the flames licking at the tent above his shoulders, heard its mocking crackle as it moved past him and the other men, eating up the oxygen.
“Nobody’s invincible, Golden.”
There seemed to be an undercurrent of sadness in Logan’s reply. Could it be that Logan battled the fire demon, too?
“Do you ever wonder if we’ve had more than our share of luck? I mean, look at us, Tin Man. We’ve been fighting wildland fires for, what? Ten years now?”
“What are we talking about this for? You’re the golden one. You’ve got a never-ending supply of luck.” Logan searched Jackson’s face for a minute, then looked away and added in a more serious tone. “Some civilians never live to see their thirty-first birthday. Car wrecks, suicides, cancer.” He shrugged. “So we’ve got our share of scars. But we’re still here, still in one piece.”
“Yeah, but for how long?” Jackson’s heart sank. It would have been easier to deal with his cowardice if Logan felt the same way. And wasn’t that exactly the way a coward was supposed to think? Afraid to do anything alone.
Up until a few weeks ago, Jackson lived to fight fires, keeping his body in top condition because he loved the physical demands and mental challenge of the job. In Jackson’s opinion, there was no other work that made him feel so alive. And yet, his stomach now roiled at the thought of facing a fire again. Because for the first time, he’d allowed fire to bring death to someone under his command.
“Jackson, are you quitting?”
Jackson’s chin lifted, but his eyes felt gritty and his vision blurred, as if he’d been out on the line under heavy smoke too long. “I’m thinking about it.”
“What the hell for?” Logan pushed off the wall.
Jackson shrugged. “You’re the sup now. It’s time for me to move on.”
“Hey, I was happy as a clam being your right-hand man.” Logan lowered his voice. “These guys look up to you. They’d follow you anywhere.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. They’d do the same for you. It’s just…” Jackson ran a hand through his shaggy hair. When he continued, he hoped it was with the truth. “I can’t get Lex back if I go back to the line.”
“So, you’re cashing it in just to make up with her?”
Jackson didn’t answer, letting his friend believe Lexie was the only reason he was giving in.
“Man, I hope you know what you’re doing,” Logan said, shaking his head.
A ranger stepped out of the station and scanned the crowd of Hot Shots until he found Logan. “You guys got lucky. They’re using a local crew for Bighorn. They say you can stand down.”
Curses and groans filled the air. The Hot Shots were clearly disappointed. The men began picking up their belongings and lugging them back to their barracks.
Rookie grinned at Jackson as he walked by. “Maybe we’ll get one tomorrow,” he said.
“That kid’s too young to be out here,” Jackson grumbled to Logan.
Logan didn’t look up from gathering his gear. “He’s twenty, as old as you and I were when we started.”
“You make sure you watch out for him.”
“He’s