Tara spluttered. “What? Jon shouldn’t be dragged into this. Who’s posting it?”
“Who do you think? Hudson posted on Facebook and Twitter, smearing your name from here to the North Pole and back. Without cell service or internet here, we can’t put a stop to it.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Tara pinched the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger.
“Hudson has trashed your reputation, thanks to the wonder of social media. I can picture that snake-weasel in his hospital bed, working his thumbs like a chimp on speed.”
“You’d think he’d be in too much pain.”
“He’s a masochist. They thrive on pain.” Angela said it with such authority a roomful of people would have been convinced.
“Shit, what should I do?” Tara’s temples pounded.
“Hon, it gets worse.”
“What could be worse than the last thing?” Tara put her hands on her head.
“He posted on social media you tried to kill him.”
“Oh, God,” Tara yelled it. “Online?”
“Shh, hold it down,” cautioned Angela.
“Ryan is bound to hear this. Oh no, I should have told him when he was here.”
“Hon, he knows you. He won’t believe it. Ryan’s not the sort to believe vicious lies. The way he looked at you today melted my sweet little heart. I’ve had guys look at me…but never like that.” Angela wore her dreamy look.
“We’re still getting to know each other. He’ll be scared off with all this drama.”
“Ryan doesn’t scare easily. He’s a smokejumper, remember? You reported Hudson to HR. Now let the agency work through its process.”
“What a freaking mess.” Tara’s head ached.
“We’re moving out at the usual 4 a.m. Better get some sleep.”
“Thanks. You’re a good friend.”
Angela hugged her. “We’ll get this figured out, don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”
“And I have yours. ‘Night.” Tara crawled out to her own tent.
She powered on her phone to text Ryan. She was desperate to get a message to him. Thank goodness he’d put his number in her phone the morning after their night together. She texted.
Need to talk to you. Whatever you hear about me, don’t believe it.
She pressed ‘send’ and read the note saying her text will send when there’s service. It was all she could do for now.
She tapped her photo icon and up popped Ryan’s luscious peepers, smiling at her. She pressed the image to her heart before powering it off.
Everything was a hellacious inferno. Her heart burned for Ryan. Her reputation was in flames, and her job was in jeopardy. And there was always the physical fire to fight. So much had happened since she arrived in Alaska. If she would have saved the guy in the Copper Peak Fire, would she still have wound up here? If not, she wouldn’t have seen Ryan again.
She couldn’t sort her confusion, so she prayed. Please God, let Ryan’s chutes open. Don’t let anything bad happen to him...or me. Amen.
Tara hoped it was enough.
Chapter 32
After seeing Tara, Ryan had gone to bed early. He rose at 5:05 a.m. for his usual workout of running the track and lifting weights. He was still low on the jump list.
“Zombie wants us rigging and repairing in the loft,” called out Boone.
“After I shower.” Ryan took a quick one, pausing long enough to let the hot water massage his back and shoulders. When he finished, Stu came in.
“O’Connor. Zombie said you were in here.”
“What’s up?” He toweled himself off.
“They medevacked an Aurora Crew member yesterday afternoon from the Shackelford Fire. Since you trained them, figured you’d be interested.”
Ryan dressed and towel-dried his hair. “Who’d they medevac?”
“Hudson. The director’s stepson.” Stu leaned against the wall.
“Seriously? I’ll be damned. Didn’t see that one coming.” He glided an electric shaver around his face. “Wow, the director’s stepson?”
“Yep. Second degree burns. Hudson is at Fairbanks Memorial.”
Ryan raked fingers through his hair. “What happened?”
“Fell in a smoldering ash pit.” Stu shook his head.
Didn’t any of his trainees listen to his hazard talks? “Thanks Stu. Suppose I’d better pay him a quick visit.” Why hadn’t Tara mentioned it yesterday when he told her about McGuire? Then again, there hadn’t been time for much else. He’d been too busy kissing and consoling her.
“Make it quick, bro. Fires are ramping up.” Stu ambled back out.
“Gotcha.” Ryan finished up and stopped by Zombie’s office to check the jump list. He and Gunnar were third load, first stick. He’d make it quick. As Aurora Crew’s training instructor, he felt a certain responsibility, even though Hudson was a douche. And the director's stepson? How had he not known that?
The morning was chilly. Ryan remembered Melbourne saying severe storms were forecasted. He put on his denim jacket on the way to the barrack’s parking lot, unlocked the Mustang, and sped off to the hospital.
At the reception desk, Ryan asked the nurse to see Hudson. She called to obtain permission and gave Ryan the okay to enter Hudson’s room. He strolled down the hall and knocked on the partially open door. “Hudson? Mike? You awake?”
“O’Connor. Come in.” Hudson responded in a dull voice.
Ryan pushed open the door and stepped into the room. Hudson seemed okay, except for his burned legs. The burnt skin presented a stark contrast to the immaculate sheets.
“Heard you were injured. What happened to your safety plan?” Ryan forced a cheerful tone.
“Tara Waters pushed me into a burning ash pit.”
“She what?” Ryan scrunched his face, wondering if he heard right.
“She tried to kill me!” Hudson leered, gesturing at his blackened legs on top of the covers. “Look at this shit.”
“Kill you?” Ryan had come to expect Hudson’s whiny melodramas. Par for the course with this dickwad.
“Waters and her bitches have been out to get me from day one. You saw when she tried to kill me with the log. They hung me on moose antlers up at Chinook and I ended up missing the van to Fairbanks. Then she pushed me into that burning ash pit. If that’s not attempted murder, I don’t know what is.”
Ryan tried to keep a straight face at ‘Waters and her bitches.’ Sounded
