The heat as she moved against him. The feel of her soft lips on his.
She’d been an amazing lover. Sensual. Demanding. Hell, she’d been so damn hot that he still fantasized about her after all these years.
And that ticked him off. Scowling, he jerked his mind back to business-getting them off this mountain. He impatiently glanced at his watch. “The sun will come up in another hour. If you can last that long, we’ll wait and eat then.”
“I’m fine.”
She straightened, and he eyed the bag on her shoulder. “I can carry that.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got it.”
“It’s just going to tire you out.”
“Not that much. Besides, you’re injured.”
His stomach clenched at the reminder. Even after a handful of ibuprofen, his collarbone and ribs ached like hell-far more than they should for a minor injury. “A couple of lightweight bags won’t do me in.”
Her chin rose. “And I can do my part.”
He studied the stubborn set to her jaw. Her feet had to be killing her, but she intended to pull her weight. And no matter what she’d done in the past, that determination impressed him.
“All right. Just let me know when you’re tired.” He clicked on his headlamp. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
He continued hiking uphill, keeping his pace slow for her sake. She was a trooper, all right. But then, she’d always struck him that way.
Which had surprised him at first, considering how she’d grown up. The only child of a Coast Guard admiral, she’d lived in upscale communities in the nicest parts of the country, or in stately homes on base, whereas his family had eked out a hard-scrabble existence in the driest part of Montana, spending every cent they earned on the ranch.
And yet, despite her sheltered background, she had chipped right in, stacking wood and washing clothes at the cabin. She’d never made demands, never complained, at least not about the rough work.
The road switched back again, and he paused for her to catch up. “I’m fine,” she wheezed, anticipating his question.
He checked his watch and glanced at the patch of sky visible through the trees. It still looked dark but most of the stars had disappeared. “It’s almost sunrise. We’ll look for a place to rest.”
Knowing she was nearing her limit, he slowed his pace. A quarter mile later, he spotted a long, low boulder on the downhill side of the road overlooking the still-darkened valley. “This looks good.”
“Great.” Panting heavily, she staggered through the weeds to the boulder and sat. Still tethered to the leash, the dog plopped down in the grass beside her.
Cade followed and settled next to her on the rock. He swung the bags off his shoulder and handed her his canteen.
“Thanks.” She dragged in another breath, then tipped her head back and drank.
He turned his attention to the valley below them. He couldn’t make out any shapes yet; in the predawn light, the trees blurred together in an inky smear. But in the east, a finger of fire crept into view. Deep orange and red, it shimmered in the fading darkness. He stared at it, mesmerized by the sight.
“The fire’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jordan said.
“Yeah. It’s something to watch.” But it could turn deadly, especially when the winds whipped it up.
He shifted his gaze to the sky as the minutes passed, and watched it gradually brighten to blue. Smoke streaked the emerging horizon and mixed with the pink of dawn. Time ticked away, and the dense pines turned from black to dusky green.
And suddenly, he realized that it felt good sitting here in the forest, watching the sunrise with Jordan. They hadn’t talked, hadn’t needed to say one word. But even after all this time, being with her still felt right, like the natural place to be.
And no way was he analyzing why. He pulled out his radio and keyed the mike. “Campbell, this is McKenzie.”
He waited patiently for an answer. After their all-night fight, the bros would be eating and drinking coffee, fueling up for the long day ahead.
Trey radioed back seconds later. “For God’s sake, McKenzie. Are you still out here sloughing off while the rest of us do your work?”
“You call that work?” Cade scoffed. “Talk about slackers. A Girl Scout could have put out that fire hours ago.”
Trey made another rude comment, and Cade laughed. Despite the banter, they both knew he’d give anything to be on that line instead of nursing an injured shoulder. “So what’s the deal on this fire?” he finally asked.
“We’ve built a good line up the flanks, and so far it seems to be holding. But when that wind gusts up…”
“What’s the forecast?”
“Just what you’d expect.”
Cade’s uneasiness grew. “They sending a plane to do a recon?”
“Yeah, it should be up at any time. We’ll get some mud later, too.”
“I’ll be listening,” Cade said. “And make damned sure everyone keeps one foot in the black.” An escape route didn’t do any good if no one reached it in time.
When Trey signed off, Cade radioed dispatch with his position and asked them to scout for a clearing. If there was any chance of a blowup, he wanted to get off this mountain fast.
That done, he stuck the radio back in his PG bag. “You want to eat now?” he asked Jordan.
“All right.”
He slid off the rock and set his bag on the ground, then began pulling out food. Jordan knelt beside him. “I’ve got two cans of tuna, the beef jerky and instant coffee,” he said.
She pushed up the sleeves of her sweatshirt and unzipped her bag. “And I have some strawberry yogurt, two oranges, part of a loaf of French bread and some Swiss cheese and salami I bought at a deli in Missoula.”
He eyed their meager stockpile. Too bad he hadn’t grabbed a couple of fire packs before he left the line. That freeze-dried food would have come in handy. “I’m going to have some tuna,” he decided. “You want the other can?”
She shook her head. Her hair was still damp, but dry wisps brushed her face. She tucked the loose strands behind her ear. “How long will it take us to get to that road?”
“At least another day. Maybe two.”
“That long?” Small creases appeared on her forehead. “Then we’d better ration this out.”
The tightness inside his chest eased. Rather than panic at their predicament, she was taking it in stride. Far better than he’d expected.
“Why don’t we eat the perishables first?” she said. “I’ll take the yogurt, and I’ll make you a sandwich with the rest of this bread. It’s already a couple of days old.”
“Maybe half,” he said. “We’ll save the rest for later.”
“All right.” She repacked the remaining food in her bag and pulled out a plastic spoon. Then she took the bread from its plastic sleeve and split it in half.
While she made the sandwich, he took out his bottle of ibuprofen and downed more pills. Then he grabbed his map and climbed back up on the rock.
Jordan joined him a few seconds later and handed him the sandwich. “Thanks.” He took a bite as she settled beside him. The dry bread was hard to chew, but he didn’t care. By the time they reached Missoula, they would consider the stale bread a treat.
They worked silently through their breakfast, both too hungry to talk. Sparrows trilled in the pine-scented air. The valley brightened, despite the haze of smoke. Far to the south, the mountains glinted in the rising sun, their jagged faces stark above the rugged land.
“I keep forgetting how far you can see out here,” Jordan finally said. “It’s amazing. And we’re the only people for miles.”
“Yeah. I’ve always liked that about my job, jumping into untamed forests.” Wild, unspoiled places most people never saw.
