And suddenly, she felt guilty. He’d done so much for her, and she hadn’t helped him one bit. “I can lace your boots now,” she said.
“All right.”
He rose to his feet in one movement, and she couldn’t help but admire his strength. And his energy. He had to be more tired than she was, yet it didn’t slow him down. Of course, his stamina had always impressed her…
He stepped into his wet leather boots. Her face flaming, she knelt in front of him and began lacing. “Can you hold the pants out of the way?”
He pulled up his pant leg, and she secured the knot. “Is that tight enough?”
“Yeah.”
She tugged his pants over the top of the high-topped boot, then started on the other. The smokejumping boots brought back other memories, of Cade replacing the laces and oiling the leather, her shock at learning how much they cost. “I hope the river didn’t ruin your boots,” she said.
“They’ll be fine. They’ve been wet before.”
She secured the second knot and stood. “How about that sling for your arm?”
“All right.”
She grabbed the towel she’d used to dry her hair. “This is still damp, but it’s probably long enough for a sling.”
He slanted his head. “We need to bandage my collarbone first, to keep it in position.”
“How do we do that?”
He knelt and pulled two long triangular pieces of cotton from his first aid kit. “Here. Roll these cravats lengthwise, then tie the ends together.”
She knelt beside him and started rolling. “Like this?”
“Yeah, that’s good.”
When she’d rolled both pieces, she tied them together to form a long rope. “Now what?”
“Now we put it on.” He rose. “But I need to take off this shirt.”
She knew he had a T-shirt underneath, but the night air was still cool. “Won’t you be cold?”
“Not once we start hiking. It’s mostly uphill.” He fumbled to undo the buttons with one hand.
She stood. “Here, let me.” At five-nine, she was tall, but he topped her by a good six inches, even more with his lug-soled boots on. She reached up to unbutton his shirt.
The intimacy of the act made her face burn, and she kept her gaze averted. He’d completely undressed her, for goodness’ sake. Surely she could take off his shirt without falling apart.
Gathering her composure, she undid the last button and gently peeled back the shirt. The biceps bulging beneath his short-sleeved T-shirt caught her off guard. He’d always been strong, but years of wielding a chain saw had built real bulk.
But this wasn’t the time to admire his muscles. She set his fire shirt on his PG bag, picked up the rolled cloth and cleared her throat. “Okay, what now?”
“Now you tie that around my chest to hold my shoulder in place. Make a figure eight.”
“You’ll have to kneel down so I can reach your shoulder.”
He lowered himself to one knee, then helped her wind the cloth under one arm and over the other until they’d formed a figure eight. The resulting harness pulled his shoulder straight back. “How does that feel?”
“About right. Go ahead and tie it.”
“So, how did you get hurt?” she asked as she fastened the ends together.
She thought at first he wouldn’t answer, but then his head turned and his gaze met hers. “A snag fell-it was burning-and the rookie froze. So I pushed him out of the way.”
She paused to picture that, and her heart skipped. “You saved his life.”
He tilted his head, as if saving the man’s life were nothing, and shifted his gaze away. And once again, she glimpsed that part of him she’d never acknowledged, even though she’d always sensed it was there. His enormous courage. His loyalty to his men. And she knew without a doubt that he’d do anything to help them, just as he had for her.
Except the one thing she’d asked him to do-stop smokejumping.
A tight feeling gathered in her chest. “So, the tree fell on you instead?”
“Not directly. The branches just glanced off my shoulder.”
And nearly killed him, she suspected. “I see.” Her throat thick, she lifted the towel and caught it under his arm. So he’d nearly died saving his buddy.
Their gazes met again, and for a moment, she was lost in those vibrant eyes. And she saw the need in him, the desire to save and protect. But who watched over him? Who helped him in return? Even a hero needed someone to lean on, someone to give him comfort.
Someone like her.
Seconds ticked by. She inhaled his masculine scent, felt the heat from his body rise.
And a yearning swelled inside her, a fierce desire to caress him. To soothe the tension in that hard jaw and ease his pain.
But he wasn’t her husband anymore-because she’d left him. Feeling guilty, she straightened and pulled the ends of the towel to his shoulder. And felt the enormous strength of those muscles as she tied the knot on the sling.
He was tough, all right, and he was willing to bear the weight of the world. Including her.
But the one thing he’d asked in return-that she wait for him-was the only thing she couldn’t do.
And she still needed to tell him why.
Feeling raw, she stepped away and grabbed the leash. “I guess we’d better go.”
Chapter 6
The old mining road crisscrossed the mountain in a series of switchbacks as it inched its way toward the ridge. Cade led the way up the rocky trail, his headlamp carving a narrow path through the darkness. Breathing heavily, Jordan straggled a few yards behind him.
After listening to the chatter on the radio all night, he knew they needed to hurry. Come daybreak, the wind would kick up, and all hell would break loose on the mountain. He didn’t want to be here when it did.
But Jordan couldn’t hike any faster. He stopped and waited for her to catch up. Panting loudly, she staggered to a halt beside him, then braced her hands on her knees and gasped for air.
“How are you doing?” He clicked off his headlamp to preserve the batteries, then blinked to adjust his eyes to the moonlight.
“Fine.” Still breathing hard, she straightened. “But I can’t believe how steep this is. Every time the road turns, I think it’ll level out, but it just keeps going up.” She wiped the sweat from her face with her sleeve. “And I thought I was in shape.”
He didn’t want to think about her shape. He’d struggled to erase the image of her naked body from his mind all night. “At least we’ve got a road to follow. You should try hiking through the brush like we do on a packout. And that’s with a hundred pounds on our backs.”
“Your equipment weighs that much?”
“Usually more.” He’d once lugged a hundred and twenty pounds for twelve miles over steep terrain. But at least he’d been wearing good boots. He glanced down at her canvas shoes. “How are your feet holding up?”
“They’ll survive.”
He hoped so. Hiking on these rocks with thin shoes had to hurt. “Are you thirsty?”
“Not yet.” Her breathing still labored, she lifted her thick, wavy hair and bared her neck to the moonlight. Without warning, that image blazed hot in his mind, of her naked back, her long, slender legs, the provocative curve of breasts. His body went instantly hard.
Still connected to his makeshift leash, the dog lay down in the dirt beside her. Jordan let down her hair and bent to scratch him. “You’re such a good dog,” she cooed.
Her sultry voice plucked at his nerves. And more memories surfaced, of her whispering to him in the darkness.
