They worked together easily, a comfortable silence between them, the dog panting softly at their side. Behind them, the gurgling stream splashed past.
And without warning, she recalled another time they’d worked together, that Christmas when they’d decorated the tiny blue spruce. They’d passed the tinsel back and forth around the fragrant tree just like this, sharing promising smiles and molten glances. Until that inevitable passion flared and they’d started to kiss…
The dog nudged her arm, and she cleared her throat. “So, besides sprained ankles, what kind of injuries do smokejumpers get?”
He paused for a second, as if recalling old wounds, and then he slowly resumed wrapping. “Just what you’d expect,” he said, his tone cautious now. “Bruises and cuts. Pulled muscles. Burns. Some long-term injuries. Knees take a lot of abuse, and the meniscus eventually tears. But usually nothing too grim.”
Usually. She eyed the towel knotted over his shoulder and her nerves drummed. “But you
“Not often, but yeah. Guys get knocked unconscious and cut by chain saws, hit by rocks or worse.” He stopped, and his gaze met hers. “Look, Jordan. You were right. This is a dangerous job. Parachutes malfunction. Fires blow up. And when something goes wrong, people can die.”
Riveted by his gaze, she swallowed hard. “You never admitted that before.” Any time she’d brought it up, he’d brushed aside her concerns.
“I guess when you’re young, you feel invincible. You never think it will happen to you.” He frowned. “Besides, I was your husband. I didn’t want you worrying about my job.”
So he’d tried to protect her. That made sense. Only she hadn’t seen it that way.
She hadn’t seen beyond her own fears to his courage, the fierce commitment to get the job done. To persevere and put out the fire, despite the personal risk.
Or to his need to shelter the woman he’d loved.
And suddenly, trapped in those piercing blue eyes, she felt a deep sense of loss. Cade was the most amazing man she’d ever met, and everything she’d ever wanted. But he wasn’t hers anymore-and never could be with his lifestyle.
And yet, she’d loved him.
She still did.
Her heart stalled. It was true. She loved Cade. Despite the years, despite the divorce, her heart still belonged to this man. He drew her in and touched her in a way no one else ever could.
She saw awareness flash in his eyes and her pulse thrilled in response. So he felt it, too. That pull, that wild attraction, that insatiable, soul-wrenching need.
But what did that change? What did it matter? She jerked her gaze away.
And nearly wept at the awful irony. All these years, she’d wanted security. And when she’d finally found a steady man, one who would never leave her, she’d realized she couldn’t marry without love.
And the one man she was destined to love, the one who touched her soul and stirred her heart, could never stay at her side.
He made a final wrap on the bandage, and propped her foot on his knee again. “Go ahead and secure it,” he said.
Her throat cramping, a huge sense of loss weighting her chest, she worked the small metal clip through the elastic until it caught. “That’s great. Thanks.”
She managed to curve her lips up into a smile and shift away. Then, feeling shredded inside, she picked up her shoe, loosened the laces and worked it onto her foot.
While she tied her shoe, Cade collected their bags and refilled the canteens. Then she grabbed the leash and stood, allowing her weight to shift to her foot. The bandage felt tight, but it braced her ankle. She just hoped it would get her to that clearing.
“How does it feel?” Cade asked.
“Great.”
“Jordan…”
“I’m fine. Really.” Except she loved a man she couldn’t marry. Ignoring the despair filling her chest, she forced her gaze to his. “Shall we go?”
“Yeah.” His brows furrowed, and he looked troubled, as if he wanted to say more. But then he turned away. She waited until he started walking before she slowly fell in behind him.
A deep sense of futility filled her, but she shook the sensation off. She couldn’t dwell on what she’d lost, not now. And she couldn’t think about the future, or what could never be. She’d just concentrate on the present, getting herself up that next mountain.
No matter how much she ached for this man.
As Cade had predicted, the game trail had stopped at the creek. She let him take the lead, content to plod behind him as he blazed a path through the brush. She skirted huckleberry bushes laden with berries, detoured around alder and fir trees and crawled over decaying logs. Maneuvering through the rough terrain took concentration, giving her a welcome excuse to stay silent. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her heartbreak with Cade.
But as the yards passed the slope grew even steeper, and her pace dramatically slowed. Her lungs burned, her breathing grew harsh and her chest felt stuffed with cotton. And despite the bandage, her ankle screamed with every step.
“Are you okay?” Cade called back.
“I’m fine,” she wheezed out. A sharp branch scratched her face, and she batted it back.
So this was how Cade spent his summers, she marveled. Hiking through the untamed forest, going without showers for days. She wondered how he could stand it. She’d never survive a packout, especially with a hundred pounds of tools on her back.
Smokejumpers were a special breed, all right. She couldn’t imagine competing for this job.
Exhausted now, she glanced at the dog. He trotted happily beside her, sending a slither of warmth to her heart. He looked silly with Cade’s sock knotted on his collar, and despite crossing the river, he still desperately needed a bath. But at least he wasn’t wandering through the forest alone anymore.
A few yards later, Cade stopped. Desperate for the break, she stumbled to a halt beside him.
“You thirsty?” he asked.
She sawed air through her burning lungs and nodded. He turned to give her access to his PG bag, and she gratefully grabbed the canteen. She drank deeply, greedily, relishing the moisture on her raw throat. She paused, wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and guzzled down more.
With her thirst partially quenched, she handed him the canteen. He took several long gulps and gave it back. She drank again, then recapped it and slipped it into his bag, ready to go.
But he didn’t move. Still panting, she looked up.
“Why didn’t you sell the cabin before now?” he asked.
Her breath stopped, and all at once she felt dizzy, as if she hadn’t the strength to stand up. It was a good question, one she’d refused to answer for years. And one she’d prayed he wouldn’t ask.
But she’d dodged the truth long enough. She inhaled sharply to gather her courage, then locked her gaze on his. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I guess I didn’t want to think about it at first, the cabin, the divorce.”
“Your lawyer demanded the cabin in the settlement.”
“I…I didn’t know. I should have. I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard. “I know that’s not an excuse. I was young and silly. A coward,” she admitted. She’d been so intent on avoiding Cade that she hadn’t even questioned the terms. “I just wanted to forget.
“But it didn’t work,” she whispered. “I couldn’t forget. Not the marriage, and certainly not you.”
She searched his eyes, hoping he’d understand, but his expression remained blank.
She sighed. “Later on, I thought about selling, but I still couldn’t make myself do it.” She couldn’t sever that last tie to Cade. “And I think…I knew that I had to come back here to face the past. To think about what had happened. But I didn’t have the courage until now.”
His hard jaw tightened beneath the bristles, and the muscles in his taut cheeks tensed. Then something like
