McGuire’s voice came back. “Weather’s calmed. We expect containment tonight.”
“Good deal. Catch you on the upside. Dolan clear.” Jim thrust his radio back in its holster on his waist belt. He glanced back at Tara in the rear seat.
She avoided eye contact. She’d gone against his orders and the homeowner died anyway. A shitty day by any standard; and she knew it was about to get worse.
Her gut twisted, dreading which way the veritable Pulaski would fall.
The crew arrived at their permitted encampment on an alfalfa field, which led to rolling woodlands untainted by fire. The sun slipped below the timbered Rockies, shedding light on a scarlet sky.
Tara tugged her tent from its bag and shook it out, spreading it over freshly cut alfalfa. She inhaled the sweet aroma that cleansed her lungs after ingesting smoke all day.
Jim moseyed over and spoke in muted tones. “Listen…sorry I came down on you so hard.”
“Not saving the homeowner wasn’t in the cards.” She grimaced and swallowed. The dull ache in her chest became sharp pangs.
“You did what you thought you had to. But you went against my orders.” His jaw twitched.
She straightened and her muscles tensed. “I’ve never had a habit of not following orders. Please give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“Here's the thing. I’ve been thinking you need a break…to help you move on.” His stare bored into her soul. “You and I both know why you ran into that fire to save him.”
She stiffened, irritated that he knew her so well. “I have moved on.”
He shifted his weight where he stood. “The agency will advise administrative leave and counseling after the line of duty death today. Lord knows a reprimand or suspension won’t do a damn bit of good for you.”
She shook her head. “Sorry you think that I messed up, Jim. But the way I see it is I had no choice.” She stared at wispy layers of leftover smoke hovering over the Rockies.
“Off the record, I understand. But I think you should take the admin leave.”
“No. I need to keep working.” She waited for Jim to look at her.
Instead he bent to break off a single blade of grass. He fiddled with it as he spoke. “Figured you’d say that. I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t make a federal case of you ignoring my directive and I’ll agree to you staying on the job if you agree to get counseling. But not here.”
“Then where?”
“Alaska has requested resources. Fires are ramping up in the Interior.”
She gulped. “Oh, come on. Don’t ship me to a miserable outback for trying to save a life—”
“—and nearly losing your own.” His jaw jerked harder. “You thought saving someone would make up for not saving your dad.”
His words carved a hole in her chest. She fought to control the quiver in her voice. “Not fair.”
“Hear me out, Tara. Alaska can use your skills. You’re trained and disciplined. Change will do you good. A different place helps after losing a loved one. I’m doing you a solid here.”
Her voice rose. “Alaska? You can’t be serious. Let me stay to get on the Lolo Interagency Hotshot crew. I already meet their fitness requirements. But I can’t do it from five thousand miles away.” She waved her hand in a northerly direction.
“Twenty-five hundred miles, give or take,” he corrected. “Look, I’ve known you since you were in diapers, when me and your dad worked on the Lolo Hotshots. Saving the world won’t bring him back. I promised him I’d watch out for you.” He stared at her a long moment. “I don’t break promises.”
“Is this the boss talking or the family friend talking?”
“Both.”
“I take it I don’t have a choice.” She fought the pressure behind her eyes as her world crashed and burned yet again. Leaving won’t get her any closer to working with the Lolo hotshots.
“Speaking as your boss, no. I’m reassigning you to the BLM Alaska Fire Service for a sixty-day detail.”
The sky and trees twisted as her vision blurred. “AFS? The Bureau of Land Management? You can’t be serious.”
“As a family friend, I hope you accept this reassignment. And as your boss, you’d be well advised to take it. I’ll Skype you into the After-Action Review meeting from Fairbanks. That shouldn’t be a problem.” He removed his hardhat and rubbed his forehead.
“Come on, Jim. Get me on the Lolo Hotshots instead,” pleaded Tara.
Jim raised his hands, seeming to placate her. “Sometimes life smacks us on the head with signs. Today you had one. I hope you pay attention. It’s hard to heal from a line of duty death on top of a family loss. I’ll arrange for you to get counseling up there.”
“I’ll arrange it myself,” she muttered, turning away. She’d be damned if he’d see her cry.
“Make sure you do. I’m demob’ing you from the Copper Peak Fire as of zero seven hundred tomorrow morning. Go home and pack. Alaska Fire Service is top notch. You’ll be in capable hands.”
“Please don’t demobilize me.” She emphasized each word, hoping he’d cave.
He hesitated and let out a tired sigh. “Your flight leaves for Fairbanks at zero nine hundred, day after tomorrow.” he called over his shoulder. His boots crunched on the gravel road as he walked back to the men’s encampment.
“Bloody damn hell,” she muttered, her heart thudding.
The moon vanished behind the drifting haze as night settled in, leaving her in the dark. Today was a freaking sign? Of what? Fighting fire in Alaska wasn’t at all what she wanted. Jim knew what her career goals were. How could he do this?
Her friend Katy sauntered over. “What was that all about?”
“Jim reassigned me to freaking bum-screw Alaska.” She spit the words like bullets. “He thinks I need a change. Did I seem like I lost my shit today?” Tara had proven herself a competent firefighter on the Missoula crew. But now she felt gut-punched.
“I
