Hell, he loved everything about smokejumping. The adrenaline surge when the siren blared. The rush when he leaped from the plane. The freedom of soaring through the air and the challenge of landing. He especially liked fighting the fire. Cranking up the chain saw and choking down smoke with the bros.
The job suited him in every way. And God help him, but he never wanted to do anything else.
He couldn’t. Dread crept through his nerves, but he tamped it back. He wouldn’t have to change jobs. Once his shoulder healed, he’d be back on the jump list, right where he belonged.
He finished all but a small piece of sandwich, which he tossed to the ground. The dog quickly wolfed it down.
Cade drank from the canteen, then handed it back to Jordan. “You’d better drink more water.”
“How much do we have?”
“Enough for now. I’ve got two more canteens in my bag.”
Her brow creased. “Can we give some to the dog?”
“Sure. We’ll refill it at the next stream.”
She tipped her head back and drank. The motion sent her hair tumbling over her shoulders, baring her long, slender neck to his gaze. His eyes followed the tempting curve of her throat to the swell of her breasts beneath the sweatshirt, then back to the moisture beading her lips.
He jerked his gaze back to the mountains and dragged in air. So ten years hadn’t diminished her attraction. That was his bad luck, but he’d deal with it. He definitely wouldn’t drop his defenses and let her close.
Careful to keep his gaze averted, he spread the map across his lap to get his bearings. He studied it for a moment, then lifted his gaze to the west. Along the slope of the neighboring mountain, he spotted a clearing, maybe big enough for a helicopter to land.
But to get there, they’d have to dip into the valley between the two peaks. And if the fire shifted and spread to that next mountain…
His gut tightened. They could never outrun flames rushing toward them uphill. On the other hand, if the fire jumped the river, they weren’t any safer here.
“Are we still in any danger?” Jordan asked, as if reading his mind.
He couldn’t lie, not when both their lives were at risk, but he didn’t want to scare her. “We’re fine for now. They’ll send up a plane soon to recon the fire. If there’s a place for a chopper to land, they’ll let us know. We might not need to hike to that road.”
She looked down at the valley. “But which way is the fire heading?”
“West, mostly.”
“But it still could turn this way?”
“In this terrain, anything can happen.” He folded the map and set it aside. “But we’ll be all right.”
Her gaze met his and she bit her lip. He saw her anxiety, her fear, and despite his vow to keep his distance, something moved in his chest.
“Hey,” he murmured. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and his finger brushed her soft cheek. The early-morning sun cast a warm glow on her skin and played along the curve of her lips.
“Cade,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He slid his hand to her throat, tracing the delicate line, then cupped the nape of her neck. The feel of her skin made his heart jerk. It felt right to tug her closer.
“I…I’m glad you’re here.”
Strangely enough, so was he. He lifted his gaze to hers. He saw the trust in her eyes, and something else. The awareness that always sizzled between them. The heat.
His blood thickened, and he dropped his gaze to her lips. Her full, moist lips. It had been so damn hot between them. Would it still be the same?
She swayed closer, and her warm breath mingled with his. Lured by the memory of that heat, he lowered his head.
The motion jolted his shoulder, and he froze. What was he doing? This was the woman who’d dumped him, who’d gutted his heart when she left. How in the hell could he kiss her? He dropped his hand and pulled back.
Disgusted with himself, he grabbed his map and climbed off the rock. Talk about a fool. How many times did he need to learn the same lesson? She didn’t want a smokejumper.
And he’d better get them out of this forest fast, before he forgot that fact.
He shoved his map into his bag. “You ready to go?” He didn’t look in her direction.
“Do you mind if we check the dog’s paw first? I want to see why he’s limping.”
“All right.” Still angry at his loss of control, he rose to his feet and waited.
“Come here, sweetie,” she called, tugging on the leash. “Come on.” She climbed off the rock and stooped down. Her soft, sultry voice quickened his pulse and he swore silently. Why couldn’t he ignore this woman when he knew she’d only cause pain?
The dog limped over, his tail slowly wagging. Still cooing, Jordan scratched his chin and scooted closer. Within seconds, she had him in her arms. “Okay, you silly dog. Let’s see what’s wrong with that paw.”
Her eyes met his and her face turned pink, as if she were thinking about that near-kiss.
Reluctant to get near her, he dragged himself closer and dropped to one knee. They both leaned over the dog’s paw, their heads nearly touching, and he inched himself back.
“I’m guessing he has a thorn stuck in it,” she said and her blush deepened. “See if you can find it while I hold him still.”
Forcing his attention to the dog, Cade reached out and clasped his paw. The dog instantly tried to jerk back. “Easy.” He gently massaged the ragged pad until he felt something sharp in the flesh. “I found it.” He pinched the thorn with his fingers and pulled it out. “Damn. No wonder he was limping.” He held it up for her to see.
“Make sure there’s not another one.”
He tossed aside the thorn, then felt the rest of his paw. “I think that’s it.”
“Great.” She kissed the dog’s head and let him go. He scrambled away, and her gaze rose to his. “He must have run through brambles.”
The concern in her soft eyes swamped him, and his head grew suddenly light. And that confused him. What was it about this woman that affected him so much? Why couldn’t he keep her at a distance?
He forced himself to his feet. Needing to get away, to put some space between them, he strode to his gear and picked up his hard hat.
She rose more slowly. “So what do you think about Dusty?” She brushed the dirt off her jeans. “For the dog, I mean. I’ve been trying to think of a name.”
Still annoyed with himself, but grateful for the change of subject, he shoved on his hard hat and lifted his bag. “I guess it suits him.” Even after crossing the river, the mutt needed a bath.
“I think so, too. Come on, Dusty,” she told the dog. “Let’s get you a drink.” She pulled the bowl from her bag and poured in water. While the dog drank, she stuck their trash in a plastic bag.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“Yes.” She put away the empty bowl, tied the trash to the strap on her bag and joined him on the path. “What kind of dogs did you have on your ranch?”
“Border collies, mostly. They helped herd the cattle.”
“I could never have a dog when I was young. We moved too much.” She hiked beside him up the rocky trail, her long legs keeping stride with his. “Plus, my dad was always gone on ships, and my mother couldn’t be bothered. She was involved with the wives’ club, and a dog didn’t fit her lifestyle.” She paused. “Actually, neither did a kid.”
The resentment in her voice surprised him. He’d always assumed she’d had a great childhood.
But now that he thought about it, she’d never discussed her past, at least not in any detail. Whenever he’d asked, she’d skirted his questions. And he’d never pursued it past that.
Troubled by that thought, he frowned. “How did you learn about dogs if you never had one?”
She glanced at the dog. No longer limping, he trotted easily beside her. “When I moved back East, I got involved in dog rescue. It helped me…cope.”
Cope? With what? Her guilt at deserting her husband? Bitterness soured his gut. “So you’re what, a dog trainer now?”
