Facing the Fire. Gail Barrett

the radio and his gaze met hers. And without warning, her world tilted even more. He was good at this, she realized, an expert. A leader who took charge and got the job done.

      Not the thrill-seeker she’d once thought.

      And he cared about his men. Enough to radio and help them, even when finding his own way out.

      She cleared the sudden tightness from her throat. “Can they really put out this fire? It’s so huge.”

      “It’s getting there.” He gazed down at the blaze. “They’ll have to get a tanker in here in the morning, probably bring in a hotshot crew and get more saws on the line.”

      “Why didn’t they do that to begin with?”

      “Because the fire wasn’t big enough then.” His gaze met hers. “Smokejumpers are the initial attack team. They drop us in while the fire’s still small, and we put it out before it goes big.” He smiled wryly. “At least that’s the idea. If we can contain it, we save them a lot of money.”

      She looked out at the fire again. “You save more than money.” That fire devoured trees and killed animals. And if it reached a populated area, they could lose homes and people, too.

      She frowned. “I guess I never appreciated that before. I mean, I knew what you did, but I never really thought about the lives you save.” She’d focused on the danger, the glamour, the excitement of leaping from planes.

      The time he’d spent apart from her.

      “You’re a hero,” she admitted.

      “Hardly. I just do my job.”

      “You do far more than that. You’re amazing.” Their gazes locked. The seconds stretched. And she wondered if she’d really known him back then, ever seen beyond her own needs to the essence of this man.

      And that bothered her. She’d come here to let go of the past, not to see Cade in a better light.

      Or to find out she’d been wrong.

      “We’d better go,” he said.

      “All right.” Still unsettled, she followed him back to the Jeep and started the engine. He slid in the passenger side and closed the door.

      “How far until we meet up with that Forest Service road?” she asked.

      “Hold on. I’ll check the map.” He turned on the dome light and reached toward the backseat, then stopped.

      The pallor of his face caught her attention. “I’ve got it.” She grabbed the map and handed it to him.

      “Thanks.” He spread it awkwardly over his lap. After a moment, he lifted his head. “We should get to a river pretty quick. Once we cross that, we’ve got about twenty miles to go.”

      “Twenty miles? Just to reach a dirt road?” Her jaw sagged. This trip could take all night. And she couldn’t imagine driving this trail in full darkness. “But what about your shoulder?”

      “It’s fine. I’m guessing my collarbone’s cracked, that’s all.”

      “That’s all?” She gaped at him. “Are you joking? You must be in terrible pain.”

      “It’s not that bad.”

      “Right.” She didn’t believe that for a second. “Is there something we can do?”

      “We can rig a sling up later, when we’re farther away from the fire. I don’t want to take the time right now.”

      “All right,” she said, still stunned. She knew they didn’t have the luxury of stopping, at least not yet. “But let me know when you want to do it.” She put the Jeep into gear and released the brake.

      A quarter mile later, they crossed the ridge top and started down the opposite side. They descended slowly, working their way haltingly down the rutted road, every sway and jostle of the Jeep bringing their shoulders dangerously closer. Jordan focused on the path the headlights cut through the dusk, determined to ignore her nearness to Cade.

      The smell of the fire finally faded, replaced by the strong smell of pine. She braved a glance at Cade. He’d fallen asleep, thank God. At least now he could escape the pain that injury must cause. And she could stop pretending he didn’t affect her.

      She let her gaze linger on his handsome face, on the hard, familiar planes of his cheekbones, the stubbled line of his jaw. The dim light emphasized the shadows under his eyes, his fatigue. He seemed vulnerable suddenly, exhausted, and she felt a reluctant surge of sympathy.

      He’d always come home from fires worn out. He’d shower, wolf down more food than she’d thought possible and promptly crash into bed. And leave her feeling even lonelier than when he’d been gone.

      She forced her gaze back to the road. After seeing that fire, she had to admit he had a right to be tired. She could only imagine the strength his job demanded.

      Pensive now, she continued picking her way down the mountain. Soon she heard a low rushing sound over the noise of the motor. It grew steadily louder, and her hopes rose. They’d made it to the river. Now just twenty more miles until they reached a normal dirt road.

      But then the headlights flashed on a barrier blocking their path and she quickly slammed on the brakes.

      “What’s wrong?” Cade asked, his voice rough with sleep.

      She peered through the windshield at the metal pole. What on earth? “The road’s closed.”

      He dragged a hand over his eyes and straightened. “I’ll check it out.”

      “I’ll come with you.” Her anxiety rising, she pushed open her door. Why would anyone block off this old trail? Unless…

      She hurried around the front of the Jeep. The sound of rushing water filled her ears. The Jeep’s headlights shone past the barrier to the dark, swirling water below, and her breath jammed in her throat.

      Someone had put up that pole for good reason. The bridge was gone.