deny it.
Her face hot, she jerked her gaze away. She snatched up her bag and grabbed Dusty’s leash, but questions crowded her mind.
Was Cade right? Was she expecting too much from a man? Was she wrong to want her husband to stay home?
Phil wouldn’t think so. He never felt the need to roam, and he certainly never sought out risky adventures. His idea of a thrill was cramming in an extra round of golf before the evening sprinklers came on. And he’d gladly spend nights at her side.
But Phil had never kissed her like that.
“We need to head back down the road a half mile, then cut across the valley,” Cade said. “We’ll look for a game trail to follow.”
“All right.” Grateful for the change of subject, she quickly fell in beside him. But as she tramped along, trying to ignore her blisters and aches, she faced another harsh fact. If she married Phil, she’d never feel that excitement again. The only man who created that havoc was Cade.
And why was that? She loved Phil, didn’t she? Frowning, she skirted a rut in the trail. Of course she loved him. Their relationship was just more mature, based on stability and respect.
Boredom?
Doubt slowed her steps. No, that wasn’t true. Of course Phil didn’t bore her. He relaxed her, sure, but wasn’t that better than a roller-coaster relationship filled with extreme highs and lows? It was certainly easier on her nerves.
But if she loved Phil, then why did Cade affect her so strongly? Was it just lust? A heavy dose of sexual chemistry? Or something deeper?
That thought stopped her cold. Cade glanced back, and she hurried to catch up. Panic raced through her chest. She couldn’t still love Cade. No, absolutely not. Loving him meant months of loneliness, reliving the misery of her childhood, being forever left behind.
Besides, she hardly knew him anymore. She’d changed since their divorce. She’d become more independent, more focused on reality, and Cade had probably changed, too.
She slid a glance at his rugged profile, and the cold truth slammed through her heart. Despite the passing years, he hadn’t changed that much. He was still the amazing man she’d married. Generous and strong, brave and exciting-and unable to stay home every night.
Unless…Her breath hitched. Was there a chance he’d reconsider? That he’d give up his smokejumping job? Especially now that he was injured…
They reached the end of the mining fence, where the trail switched back and sloped downhill. She cleared her throat, not sure how to broach the delicate subject. “So, are your parents still living on their ranch?” she finally asked.
For a moment, he didn’t answer. A Steller’s jay squawked in the silence and the pine boughs creaked overhead.
Then he glanced at her, and she saw pain in his eyes. “They died in a car wreck a few years back. They hit a deer and ran off the road.”
“Yeah.” Tension carved grooves around his mouth, and he looked away. They hadn’t been close; she knew that much. She’d met them once when they’d come to Missoula, and they’d seemed anxious to leave. But no matter how strained the relationship, losing a parent was hard.
Regret formed an ache in her chest. She wished she could have been there to help him, to comfort him in his grief. Knowing Cade, he’d shouldered the stark pain alone.
She reached out her hand to touch him, to let him know that she cared, but then she paused. He wouldn’t welcome her solace, not anymore.
And strangely enough, that hurt. She dropped her hand to her side. “So who runs the ranch?”
“A neighbor. I sold it after they died.”
Her heart dipped. “You didn’t think that someday, I mean, after you’d smokejumped awhile, that you might want to go back?”
“I told you, I hated that place.”
“I know, but…” She understood that when he was young, the ranch had made him feel trapped, but surely he’d matured since then. And he loved working outdoors. Why wouldn’t he want his own land?
For several moments, neither spoke. They continued down the dusty trail, their long strides evenly matched. The dog trotted quietly beside them.
Finally, Cade slanted her a glance. “Look, you said that growing up, you had trouble fitting in.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “Maybe if I’d been more outgoing, it would have been different. But it was hard for me to make friends.”
Which was why she resisted change now.
She blinked at that sudden insight. Was that true? Did she cling to security? Was she so afraid of rejection that she avoided doing anything new?
And was that why she’d chosen Phil? Out of convenience? She cringed. Good God, she’d turned into a coward. She’d nearly married a man she didn’t love because he felt safe.
“I didn’t fit in, either,” Cade admitted.
Still shocked by her revelation, she forced her attention to Cade. “You mean on the ranch?”
“Anywhere,” he said. “In school, in town. I felt like I was in prison. When I was a kid, I’d stand on Main Street, at the end where the highway started, just wanting to bust out so bad. To get on that highway and go. I thought I’d explode if I couldn’t leave.”
Her heart softened at the image of that restless, frustrated boy.
“But living on that ranch was pure hell,” he continued. “It sucked the life right out of me. I wanted freedom, change. Something different to do every day instead of working that same patch of ground.
“No one understood that I was different.” He shook his head. “Or maybe my old man did but he just didn’t approve. Maybe that’s what made him so angry-knowing I’d never come back, that he couldn’t control me or make me live out his dream.”
“Because you had your own dream to follow,” she said, her throat thick.
“Yeah.” He stopped in the rutted road. She paused beside him, and lifted her gaze to his. And saw the truth in those gorgeous blue eyes. The stark, unguarded truth. Straight down to the core of the man.
“Smokejumping’s not just a job,” he said. “It’s everything to me. It’s who I am.”
Dread rolled through her belly. “But you can’t do it forever.”
“Close enough.”
“Even if you’re injured?”
His jaw turned rigid, his gaze hard. “I’m fine. My collarbone’s cracked, that’s all. It’s not going to stop me for long.”
“But…” She searched his eyes and saw his resolve. He was determined to keep on jumping. But desire alone couldn’t make him invincible.
“I know you don’t want to quit,” she said carefully. “But what if you had to? What if something bad happened?”
“Then I’d join a hotshot crew and work from the ground, or learn to fly and drop retardant. I don’t know. But I’d find some way to hang around this world. This is where I belong.”
“I see.” And, at last, she did. After a childhood of not fitting in, he’d found acceptance, respect, a place where he finally felt right.
A sick, sinking sensation pooled in her gut. And she understood something else now. He didn’t jump for the adrenaline rush. He did it because he had to feel free-a feeling that was as vital to him as breathing.
A regular job would do more than bore him; it would crush his soul.
Which meant that the one thing she needed most-that he give up smokejumping-was exactly what he could never do.
