“I want to start by saying I owe Aurora Crew and everyone else here an apology. Somehow I screwed up and it nearly cost people their lives.”
Tara could have heard a pin drop in the room. She knew how difficult this was for Jon.
“When our helo landed at the burnover entrapment, Ryan and Gunnar were working to revive Tara. O’Connor worked twenty-five minutes to restart her heart and get her lungs going. He stabilized her enough to load her onboard Juliet.”
Silva paused to draw from his inhaler. “On behalf of Aurora Crew, I’d like to thank these men for saving the woman who saved our crew. I gave my statement to the After-Action Review team before I resigned from AFS. It’s been an honor working with each of you.”
“Hey man, anyone could have made that mistake.” Rego said it loud for everyone to hear.
“Think they’ll let me come back as an arson investigator?” joked Silva, with his charming signature smile. He bent to kiss Tara’s cheek and she squeezed his arm.
Ryan spoke up. “And a shout-out to Melbourne Faraday, our revered helo pilot for assisting in the search and rescue for Tara Waters and Angela Divina.” Ryan pointed to his introverted friend, still leaning against the back wall.
Mel smiled and tipped his baseball cap. Doss motioned him forward and everyone in the room stood to applaud. Doss gave Tara, Rego, Ryan, and Gunnar a framed certificate and shook each of their hands.
“Tara Waters, it’s my understanding you want to be a hotshot. We’re offering you the position of crew chief of the AFS White Mountain Hotshots,” announced Doss. “But it’s also my understanding Aurora Crew has unanimously voted you as their new crew chief. The choice is yours.”
Doss’s words seemed surreal. Tara’s chin dropped as Angela and Liz pulled her to her feet for a three-way hug. The rest of Aurora Crew came forward, thanking Tara and shaking her hand.
Tupa solemnly took off his abalone shell, fishhook necklace and fastened it around Tara’s neck. “For puipuiga, protection. We are family. Here’s our ceremonial tribute to you.”
Tupa and the rest of the Afi Slayers Squad formed a line and did an abbreviated version of the Haka. They slapped and stomped, their grunts and cries solid as any New Zealand All Blacks’ pre-game chant. People loved it and when they finished, more cheering ensued.
“Now that’s team-work. You guys should take it on the road,” laughed Tara, impressed her Afi Slayers Squad had perfected their moves in complete unison. Warmth flowed through her as Tupa’s words echoed in her brain.
We are family.
After the formalities, Ryan drove Tara to downtown Fairbanks and pulled into the crowded parking lot of Snowcastle Bar & Restaurant. He hopped out and opened her door. He took her hand to help her out. He couldn’t wait to be alone with her. “Aurora has been given the day off and wanted to surprise you with a party. How could I say no?”
“You couldn’t. Or Tupa and Rego would pummel you. But I don’t want to stay long.”
“We won’t,” promised Ryan. “But you need to make an appearance.” He opened a rear door to the party room entrance, then slid his arm around her waist, taking care with her burns.
His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark interior of the backroom of the bar. Cheers went up as they walked in, beer bottles and pint draughts raised in homage.
“Let’s hear it for Ryan and Tara. Woot, woot!” It occurred to Ryan they sounded like a flock of inebriated owls.
“About time you two showed up,” croaked Silva from his seat at a large round table.
Pizza dotted the tables along with pitchers of Alaskan Amber. Ryan spotted Gunnar and Angela curled around each other in a dark corner and doing what Ryan wished he were doing with Tara about now. Liz rested her forearms on an old-fashioned juke box, feeding it coins. She chose a song, then pointed at Ryan and Tara.
“You two. Front and center.” Liz snapped her fingers and motioned them to the dance floor as Burnin’ For You played, by the Blue Oyster Cult. One of Aurora Crew’s favorite songs.
“Hey, the more cowbell guys,” someone yelled, and everyone laughed.
When the song ended, Liz selected Smoke Gets in Your Eyes. Ryan drew Tara to him in a tight, slow dance. He loved the feel of her and slipped an arm around her waist.
She spoke in his ear. “Have you ever seen the movie, Always?”
“Yeah, Richard Dreyfuss and Audrey Hepburn. Spielberg movie.”
“Get out. You’ve seen it?”
He chuckled. “Well yeah. It’s about wildland firefighting. As I recall, the tanker pilot survived, like you did. It was a miracle.”
“Only because of you.” She gazed at him like he was the only person in the world.
“I did what I was trained to do, just as you did.” He pulled her close and she rested her head on his shoulder.
Liz pulled Silva out for a slow dance. He persistently placed his hands on her ass and she persistently brushed them off. Silva caught Ryan’s eye and lifted his brows in a can’t-blame-me-for-trying look.
After Jon resigned from AFS, he applied for an EMT job at the hospital. He told Ryan he planned to finish his certification for arson investigation. But first he had to go to California to help with the family winery. Ryan noted Jon was back to his charming self, putting his signature moves on Liz.
The song ended and Tara’s phone sounded. Ryan let go of her and she tapped to answer. “Jim? How are you?” She gestured a wait-a-minute, then went outside to talk.
After a while Tara came back in and grasped Ryan’s hand, grinning from ear to ear. “That was Jim Dolan in Missoula. The Forest Service offered me the crew boss position for the Lolo Interagency Hotshot Crew. Can you believe it? It’s
