was just wondering what you knew about the weather here this time of year. Some of the locals have been saying the wind shifts when the temperature cools off. With the steepness of these ridges, we could be putting a lot of people at risk if we aren’t careful. Perhaps we should pull back. You know, build a line in a place where we know we can stop it.” This was her first experience working for Sirus. She’d served on special committees with him in the past and had learned the value of Sirus’s opinion. He knew how to work the politics and the crews without losing the respect and liking of either side of the fire line, and he cut right to the chase—no hidden agendas.
He slanted a dark glance her way. “Do you have solid information about the weather that Carl or I don’t have?”
Ignoring the implied warning, Becca pressed on. She desperately wanted Sirus to see the logic of her thinking. “Historical weather patterns can be tremendously helpful—”
“I know you want to change tactics on this fire, Becca, but you’re one voice of several that I have to listen to as I decide what we’ll do. Don’t push me,” he snapped. After a moment, Sirus sighed and when he spoke again, his words were calmer. “Sorry. Lack of sleep tends to give me a short fuse. Look, if they send us more support for the fire, or if you can get Carl on your side, I’m more likely to reconsider that idea of yours. It’s just too soon to change tactics.”
Their current strategy was to fight the fire close to the flame. Becca believed pulling back and preparing for it was a safer strategy, and gave them a better chance to contain the fire with the resources they had to fight it.
It was going to take a good bit of convincing to get Carl to believe in her theory. Perhaps her hopes were better placed on NIFC. “Do you think NIFC will change their minds about this fire?”
“And give us more support?” Sirus shook his head. “Most additional resources are going to that huge fire in Washington. Fires are burning all across the western states, most are closer to the urban interface, threatening homes and small towns. There’s nothing here but a national forest in one of the least populous states in the union. What do you think our chances are of getting more support?”
“Pretty slim.” Becca’s belly seemed weighted down by the news. “It’s depressing. Even though it’s only been a few days, it’s at the end of the season on a tough fire. You can feel the hopelessness in everyone, from the firefighters to the support staff here in camp.”
Sirus frowned. Glancing around, Becca was relieved to find they were alone, despite the fact that crews strode with purpose past them in both directions. It was probably the best opportunity she’d get to speak to Sirus about more personal matters. He was on the hiring committee for the Boise job, which was one of the reasons she’d accepted the Flathead fire assignment.
“Speaking of chances,” Becca began, “what do you think my chances are for that Fire Behavior management position in Boise?” She barely made it out of the way of a rowdy crew carrying shovels and Pulaskis, striding toward the parking lot and their transport to the DP.
At the door to the Fire Behavior tent, Becca looked up at Sirus, who still hadn’t answered her question. His expression wasn’t encouraging. Her hopes suddenly sank to her toes.
“They’re not going to give it to me, are they?” Becca managed to say.
“I’m sorry,” Sirus said, looking steadily into her eyes. She admired his directness, even as she dreaded his take on the situation. “You have everything they’re looking for—education, experience, and years with NIFC. And you’ve earned a lot of respect for your creative, if sometimes conservative, fire strategies.”
Ignoring the label that she was too conservative—who could be too conservative when lives were at stake?— Becca waited for the but.
She glanced down at her belly. It had to be because she was pregnant. Some good old boy who had a friend on the interviewing committee and who let the simulation program do his work for him was going to get the job. It really was a man’s world.
Still, she had to ask, “Why?”
He didn’t hesitate. “It’s your management skills.”
“My…my what?” Becca couldn’t believe her ears. “How could they say that? Every one of my direct reports has gone on to do well.”
The expression on Sirus’s face was solemn. “Many of your direct reports have gone on to do well in other fields.”
Becca’s equilibrium shifted, although her instability had nothing to do with the baby. What did you say in a situation like this? Defend yourself? Or crawl in some hole and lick your wounds?
“They weren’t suited to the work.” Becca lifted her chin, hugging her clipboard so tightly that the baby tried to elbow it aside. She loosened her grip while she tried to make Sirus see things from her perspective. “Most of these people—let’s face it, they send kids out here most of the time—don’t know what they want to be when they grow up.” Julia came to mind, bright, but with a mindset closed to less high-tech methods of information gathering.
Becca glanced around, but her assistant was nowhere in sight. “Too many see it as a step up in pay grade rather than a calling. They seem surprised when they realize the day doesn’t begin at eight and end at five, or that they can’t just bring a printout to a meeting and read from it.”
Sirus regarded her silently for a moment before looking away. “You know how things are around here. We have to deal with body count and open slots. If NIFC gets someone in the position, they’d rather not have them looking to move or quit after their first season.”
“You’re saying that I scare these people out of the job?” She refused to believe that. She tried so hard to help her direct reports improve on their weaknesses, to weed out the ones she felt weren’t suited to the work, and this was the thanks she got?
He touched her shoulder ever so briefly—a condolence gesture. “What you’ve told me makes a lot of sense and gives me a new perspective, but—”
“That’s the way they see it back in Boise.” She bit her lip looking anywhere but at him. What was she going to do? “I’m pregnant,” she let slip lamely, her nose stinging with the desire to cry. That’s all she needed, a breakdown in front of her boss.
“There are other positions in Boise that need good people,” Sirus suggested gently. “I’m sure they’d love to have you somewhere.”
“Somewhere not in my field.” Someplace she wouldn’t as directly watch over the safety of firefighters.
NIFC didn’t like the way she managed. They considered that her weakness.
Because they sent her people like Julia and had never seen her manage top-notch employees.
The baby shifted and Becca took a step back to regain her balance. How was she going to support herself and the baby? And the little house on the outskirts of Boise was definitely out of reach. All of her plans…
“Have they…” She could barely bring herself to ask. “Have they made a final decision?”
“No, but when I was in Boise last week, that was where they were leaning.”
“So, there’s still a chance,” Becca whispered.
Sirus made a face. “It’s pretty slim. You’d have to prove that you can effectively manage.” He gestured to her tent, presumably where Julia was. “And that’s all you’ve got to work with.”
Sirus was right. Becca wasn’t getting that job.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I’D LIKE A WORD WITH YOU.” Stepping into her path, Aiden gripped Becca’s arm when she came out of the Fire Behavior tent nearly an hour later. Without waiting for her assent, he pulled her away from the main camp and into the shadows of the night.
Panic