Feisty Firefighters Bundle

Determined to move even faster, she ignored the punishing pain, and hobbled over a rotting log. Smoke snaked through the trees like a sinister fog, heightening the tension twisting her nerves. And the blasted dog kept lunging and jerking against the leash, trying to bolt downhill.

She yanked hard on the belt to keep him going, then straightened when Cade turned back. He tilted his head and watched her, those blue eyes shrewd beneath his hard hat. “How are you holding up?”

“Great.” She flashed her teeth and sucked in her breath, struggling not to limp.

Those sharp eyes narrowed. “Let me know if you need to stop.”

“Right.” As if they could spare the time.

“It shouldn’t be far,” he added. “The trees are starting to thin, which means we’re near the top.” He continued to study her, and she feared he’d insist that she rest. But then a breath of smoke drifted past, and he flattened his lips and turned back.

He hiked several feet ahead of her, his hard hat swiveling as he scanned the terrain. He paused occasionally to pick up some sticks, then resumed his relentless trek.

Jordan trudged along, her gaze focused on Cade’s rugged frame, and the guilt she’d been battling surged back. Not just because he was working so hard, and her slow pace could cost them their lives.

No, her remorse struck deeper, darker, to those long, guilty years she’d stayed silent. To the truth that he needed to know. She should have told him about the baby back at the ridge. So what if they hadn’t had time? She could have blurted it out.

But she’d been selfish. She’d wanted time to defend herself, to explain. And, just maybe, to forge a relationship for the future.

Could they try again? He turned slightly to look up the mountain, and she studied the hard planes of his face. She loved him; she realized that now. She had never stopped.

But even if he forgave her, could she tolerate his lifestyle? Could she cope with him always being gone? Or would they only argue again?

Because she sure couldn’t change who he was.

Anxiety churned through her chest, along with a deep sense of doom. Oh, God. She couldn’t think about it. Not now. She hissed in a shaky breath.

Ahead of her, Cade paused and consulted his compass, then angled higher uphill. The trees were sparser now, with dry brush and grass covering the exposed slope. And it seemed quieter suddenly, more still. Or maybe the blood surging in her ears drowned the noises out.

Suddenly, Dusty stopped again. Shaken from her reflections, Jordan stumbled, staggered to regain her balance, and jerked on the leash. But this time, the dog wouldn’t follow. Instead, he turned and tried to run downhill.

“Stop!” Gasping against the pain lashing her ankle, she planted her feet and leaned back. He lunged, and she widened her stance. “Stop!” she cried again. She wasn’t losing him this time. She gritted her teeth and hung on.

“What’s the matter?” Cade called back.

“I don’t know.” Dusty looked frantic now, thrashing and twisting to get free. “He’s trying to go back downhill.”

“Oh, hell. Stay here.”

“What?” Still fighting for control of the leash, she swiveled to look at Cade. He sprinted ahead and disappeared, and a sudden fear lashed her heart. He wasn’t abandoning her. Cade would never do that. She couldn’t imagine him running away.

But then, where was he going? What was wrong? She turned her gaze back to the dog.

Behind her, a wind sprang up, ruffling her neck and standing her hair on edge. A sound rose from around the mountain, a muffled rumbling, like the distant sound of a train. It grew louder, closer. Every nerve in her body tensed.

And suddenly, she understood. The fire. Oh, God. She gaped at the wild-eyed dog, his behavior now making sense. The fire had caught them. They weren’t going to reach that clearing. They were trapped!

Her knees trembled violently. Panic surged, and a loud throbbing pulsed in her head like an earthquake rocking her brain. She dithered, shuffling back and forth, her muscles stalled, not knowing which way to go. Raw fear clawed at her throat.

And then Cade came sprinting back, his legs pumping wildly, his face more intense than she’d ever seen. He skidded to a stop beside her, swung the bags to the ground and dropped to one knee.

“We have to burn an escape route,” he shouted. He threw back the flap on his PG bag and yanked out some long red sticks.

The roar behind them grew louder, thundering through her skull, and the air around them started to shake. Her brain blanked, and she panted, unable to breathe. Her nerves zapped her muscles like the strings on a marionette.

“Help me light the fusees,” Cade shouted again. “We have to burn off the grass.”

A huge, black ball of smoke roiled through the trees and Dusty pawed to get free. The ground shuddered. Pines swayed. And a huge rush drummed through the air.

“Pull off the tabs and strike them.” Cade held out the foot-long sticks.

She gawked at him, part of her brain noting his desperation. He couldn’t manage with just one hand.

But she needed to run. Flee! Panic gripped her throat. Frenzied, she jerked her gaze to the slope above her. She had to climb up there and get away.

“We can’t outrun it,” he shouted. “It’s too fast. You have to-”

Thunder shook the air, drowning out what he wanted to say. She looked at him again, her breath puffing in frantic gasps, her mind completely blank.

His mouth was moving. His eyes beseeched her. He was pleading with her, begging her, but she couldn’t hear him, even from two feet away.

Then the fire burst through the trees and she screamed. It was here! Sucking and burning, boiling and streaming, billowing and swirling their way.

Oh, God. She had to run. She needed to leave, escape!

No! Her conscience stalled her. She had to stay and help Cade.

She pulled her gaze to his and saw his urgency, his need. He needed her. He always had.

She let out a strangled sob. And no matter what, she couldn’t leave him. She’d abandoned him once before; she’d run away when her fears had swamped her, and she wouldn’t do it again.

God help her, but no matter what the cost, she wouldn’t quit on him this time.

Shaking wildly, fighting every instinct she had to bolt, she forced her feet not to move.

Her palms sweating, her heart quaking, she snagged the leash on her belt loop to keep the dog close, and somehow secured the buckle.

Then she lifted her gaze to Cade’s. She saw emotions flash through his eyes, relief and respect, and something else. Pride. For her. Her heart dipped, then ballooned in her chest.

Her gaze locked on his, she reached out and grabbed a fusee.

Chapter 13

Her heart careening against her rib cage, her hands trembling harder than a leaf in a windstorm, Jordan ripped the tab off the fusee and yanked her gaze back to Cade. “What now?” she yelled.

She knew he couldn’t hear her. Behind them, the fire thundered like a screeching jet plane. But he jerked his head, indicating he’d understood. Moving quickly, he set down his flarelike fusees, grabbed one of the sticks he’d collected, then jammed it into the bottom of the fusee she held.

Understanding now, she helped cram the stick tighter into the flare. The stick extended the length of the fusee, serving as a primitive handle.