Liz whipped out her phone, tapped video record, and pointed it at him. “Care to elaborate?”
Ryan’s tall frame suddenly filled the doorway. “Is there a problem here?”
His abrupt presence jarred Tara. “Nothing I haven’t run into before. Excuse me.” She gave Ryan a fake smile and brushed past him on her way out the door.
“Asshats,” Liz tossed over her shoulder as she and Angela followed her out.
“Well. Those two were inspirational, don’t you think?” Tara smirked as the three women strolled to the training room.
Angela snorted. “Weren’t they though? And that unibrow looked like a wilderness growing on the bald one’s face.”
“The goatee guy wasn’t bad-looking,” said Liz.
“Something about him creeped me out,” said Tara. “A chainsaw has more personality. Anyway, we’ll prove both of them wrong tomorrow.”
In Tara's experience, guys like Rego and Hudson were a minor annoyance in the overall scheme of things, and she wouldn’t waste energy on them. But Rego’s comments made her wonder if Ryan had mentioned something to him about helping her in the Copper Peak Fire.
Tara wondered what Ryan said to Rego and Hudson after they left. She didn’t need a white knight to rescue her. Ryan already helped her once and she appreciated it, but it would stop there. I’ll fight my own battles, thank you very much. I’m a firefighter, not a damsel in distress.
She’ll make sure Ryan gets that message. Loud and clear.
Ryan waited until everyone cleared the break room except Rego and Hudson. Rego was solid in stature with a sassy reputation, but he was a good firefighter. Ryan knew him from previous fire seasons as a rugged outdoorsman who called it as he saw it. Still no excuse for inappropriate comments. Hudson was an unknown entity. Ryan hadn’t worked with him.
He crumpled his Coke can with one hand and tossed it in the recycle box. “What was that about, gentlemen?”
“Don’t know what you mean.” Rego worked his toothpick with a neutral expression.
So, they’re going to do this. Ryan stared hard at Hudson, then Rego. While he exuded calm, he envisioned turning them inside out and stuffing them inside a grizzly bear den. “Shouldn’t have to tell you boys. Nix the inappropriate comments or it’ll cost you your jobs.”
“We didn’t say anything inappropriate. Just plain fact.”
“Gentlemen, I’m not here to argue. You’ve been warned. Are we copacetic?” Ryan smiled and left the room. He didn’t have time for this bullshit.
“Don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” Hudson called after him.
“Losers,” he muttered, strolling the long hall to the training room. Can’t fix stupid. But he could sure get it fired. Men and women walked a constant tightrope in the wildland firefighting profession. Sadly, he hadn’t been surprised when a few gender-based incidents in the Lower Forty-eight had gone viral and wound up in Congressional hearings.
That afternoon, Ryan directed the trainees to practice deploying aluminum fire shelters, an exercise he called shake-n-bake drills. He set up a large fan to simulate strong, fire-driven winds. Each person donned work gloves to shake out the wind-blown shelters, then flopped to the ground on their stomach, pulling the shelter over their body. They held it down with their hands and feet. If they didn’t do it under twenty seconds, they’d practice until they did. Ryan had no mercy; their speed could make a difference between life and death.
Back in the training room after the drills, Ryan made announcements for the next morning. “Report here at 7 a.m. for fitness tests. Wear footwear you train in, comfortable clothing, and bring your packs. We’ll weigh them before the test to make sure you carry forty-five pounds. If you don’t, we’ll have extra weights available. Don’t be late.” He flicked his eyes at Tara.
Next, Gunnar passed out the exams. Tara was first to finish and dropped her test on the table next to Ryan. “Do you have a moment after class? I’d like to talk to you.”
“Sure.” He tried not to sound eager.
She returned to her seat and busied herself with Coming into the Country, by John McPhee. One of his favorite books about Alaska. She’s scoring points with me.
As Ryan waited for the room to empty, he straightened the exams into an even pile. He was curious why Tara wanted to talk to him, then smiled to himself because he didn’t care why. He tucked his clipboard under the stack of exams and patiently waited for the room to clear.
Chapter 7
Tara had noticed Ryan glancing in her direction as he lectured during class. She didn’t view it as flirtatious. More like he was sensitive to the fact they had shared a rather intense moment while working on a fire. Since he’ll be evaluating her performance and competency to fight fire in Alaska, it was important to her that she set the record straight.
She waited for the training room to empty. First things first. “I haven’t properly thanked you for helping me on the Copper Peak Fire.” She paused. “You said if I needed to talk—"
Ryan raised a finger. “Hold on a minute.” He strode to the back of the room and closed the double doors, then dragged a chair to the table across from her. He arranged himself on it. “I’m a good listener. And I keep confidences.”
She tried not to gape at the well-defined physique, highlighted by his navy-blue T-shirt. She admired his passion in class when he talked about fire. He obviously ate, breathed, and lived firefighting. And she liked the respectful way he treated firefighters.
“I want you to know what happened before you showed up—” she stopped to control the tremor in her voice.
He leaned forward, resting his corded forearms on the table. “You don’t have to justify anything to me.”
She looked at him directly. “It’s important that you know. Have you told anyone you helped me? Like Rego, maybe?”
His eyes grew big. “Hell no. No one in Alaska knows anything about that.
