that.”
“I can handle it.” She folded the map and stuck it in the pocket of his PG bag.
He didn’t answer, and she lifted her gaze to his. She saw the concern in his eyes, the worry. Not for his own safety, but for hers. He wanted to protect her, just as he always had.
Determined to do her part, she raised her chin. “I can keep up.”
“Yeah.” His voice gentled. “Just let me know if I’m going too fast or if you need to rest.”
“I’ll be fine.” She’d make sure of it. She refused to slow them down, especially with their lives at stake. And she’d prove that he could depend on her, at least this time.
He dipped his head in agreement, then turned and hiked through the weeds. Intent on keeping up, she ignored her pulsating ankle. She focused instead on the power in his back, the impressive width of his shoulders, the confidence in his lengthy stride.
And couldn’t help but marvel. God, he was strong. And not just physically. She couldn’t imagine dealing with this terrible tension, this unbearable stress every day. Facing constant danger, taking risks, making decisions that could cost him his life.
“So, how did you decide to become a smokejumper?” she asked.
The game trail widened, enabling them to walk abreast, and he slowed for her to catch up. “I traveled around for awhile after high school. I worked in construction, did some logging, went up to Alaska and hired on with a fishing boat. But I didn’t find anything that appealed to me long-term.
“Then, one summer, I joined up with a hotshot crew. I liked the work, the challenge of fighting wildfires. How every day was different.
“But it still didn’t suit me. I needed more independence. Fewer rules. That’s when I applied to smokejump.”
She dodged a low-hanging branch. “You’re saying smokejumpers don’t have rules?”
“No, we’ve got plenty of rules. We don’t fool around with our lives. But it’s different. We’re more like a group of individuals working together. We’re all committed to the same thing, catching fire, and we can depend on our bros for our lives. But everyone thinks for himself. There isn’t that obedience or regimentation.”
She could see why that attracted him. Cade wouldn’t obey anyone he didn’t want to. He was far too independent.
And, to be honest, it was precisely that trait that had attracted her to him, his natural ability to lead.
And she’d followed him heart and soul. She’d leaned on him, depended on him, probably too much.
Uneasy with that thought, she frowned, but she had to admit it was true. He’d overwhelmed her back then. Not intentionally, but he’d been far too easy to cling to. And that hadn’t been fair to him.
“The whole idea of smokejumping appealed to me,” he continued. “Not only the work, but that so few people could make it. For the first time, I had a goal, something to work for. I’d never wanted anything that bad in my life. To be the best. One of the elite.”
To belong.
She understood that now. He didn’t jump for the adrenaline rush as she’d once thought. Sure, he enjoyed that part; he was an intensely physical man. But he’d had a far deeper need, beyond the search for freedom. The need to prove his worth, to find acceptance.
And he had that now-esteem, admiration, the respect of his peers.
She eyed his steady stride and acknowledged the truth. Cade was an exceptional man.
And she’d tossed him aside. A sharp slash of regret tightened her chest.
“Hundreds apply every year,” he added. “But only a few make it into the program. And some of those wash out of rookie training. Even former marines think it’s tough.”
Unsettled, she dragged her mind back to the conversation. “And even once you’re in, you can’t slack off.” She’d learned that much at the cabin. “I remember how you worked out all winter to keep in shape.”
His gaze met hers, and she knew he remembered that, too. “Yeah, we have to requalify every spring.”
The path narrowed again, and she dropped back, ending the conversation. Grateful for the privacy, she gave in to her rising pain and let herself limp. Despite her assurances to Cade, throbbing heat bludgeoned her knee now, and she could barely put weight on her ankle. She longed to lie down and rest.
But if Cade could endure this trek with his injuries, she wouldn’t let a few bruises slow her. Not when the stakes were this high.
The path wound through the trees as they trudged along, then dipped into a valley sheltered between the two mountains. The gentle murmur of pine boughs ceased, leaving an oppressive heat in its wake. The buzz of cicadas droned in the air.
But gradually, the stillness gave way to the rush of water, and the welcome scent of moisture. A few yards later, the trail ended at a shallow stream.
Cade crossed it in a few easy strides, then waited for her to catch up. She paused to let the dog lap the water and then gently tugged him across. Knowing Cade was watching, she struggled to hide her limp.
“How’s your ankle?”
She grimaced. The man was far too observant. “Just bruised.”
He raised a skeptical brow. “We’d better wrap it. I’ve got an elastic bandage in my bag.”
“It’s not that bad.” And they couldn’t afford to waste time.
“It’ll get worse. Sit down on the grass and take off your shoe.”
Annoyed, she propped her hands on her hips. He ignored his own more serious injuries, yet insisted on pampering hers. “It’s really not that bad, Cade. I’d rather keep moving.”
“Not until we deal with that ankle.” His stubborn gaze drove into hers. “Look, I’ve had my share of twisted ankles. Smokejumpers land hard all the time. And the sooner we get that thing wrapped, the better chance we have of making that clearing.”
“Fine.” Frustrated, she plopped herself down in the grass. Phil would have listened to her. He would have kept on walking. But she couldn’t push Cade around.
She tucked the leash under her hip to hold it in place and started unlacing her damp shoe. Was that why she’d dated Phil? Because she could control him?
She mulled that over as she worked the laces. Phil certainly wasn’t weak, but he didn’t challenge her, either. Unlike Cade. When Cade decided something, he didn’t budge.
She pulled off her shoe, wincing at the blisters covering her heels. Then she pulled up her pant leg and cringed. Her ankle had turned purple and swollen. And autocratic or not, Cade was right.
She sighed. “I guess I do need to wrap this.”
He dropped the bags on the ground beside her, and lowered himself to one knee. “The elastic bandage should help.” He pulled it from his bag and held it out. “Here, take off the clip.”
While she pulled the small metal clip from the roll, he carefully lifted her foot. His warm, rough hand sent chills along her nerves. But then his thumb slid over her ankle and she flinched. “That hurts?”
“A little,” she admitted, although she liked the feel of his hand on her skin.
He slowly rotated the discolored joint, and pain jolted up her leg. She sucked in her breath.
He didn’t release his hold. “You need to get this X-rayed.”
“I will. As soon as we get to Missoula.”
His gaze met hers, and she saw determination in those vibrant blue eyes. “We’ll make it out of here,” he promised.
“I know.”
He held her gaze, as if to convince her, and the years suddenly peeled away. And for a moment, she was back in the time when he’d been the center of her world and dreams. When he’d been her fantasy man come to life. Back in the time when he’d loved her. Her heart fluttered deep in her chest.
But then he broke the gaze and gently propped her foot on his knee. “You’ll have to help hold the bandage.”
Shaken by the strong wave of longing, she hissed in a breath. “Okay, but don’t put too much around my foot or I won’t be able to get my shoe back on.” She handed him the balled elastic.
He unrolled the end and draped it over her instep. “You’ll have to hold this down.”
Leaning forward, she pressed the elasticized cloth to her foot. Using his left hand, Cade carefully wrapped her ankle, passing her the roll to complete each rotation.
