I mean.”
“No problem.”
“I still can’t believe I froze like that.”
Cade shrugged his uninjured shoulder. “Don’t sweat it. We all make mistakes.” Sometimes the same one twice.
“I guess so.” The rookie motioned toward the far wall. “But maybe next time, I’ll remember the sign.”
Cade glanced back at the bright yellow sign posted near the jump list. It warned in big black letters that Stupid Hurts.
His lips twisted. Stupid hurt, all right. Even knowing better, he’d let Jordan trample his heart.
“Well, anyway,” the rookie continued. “I owe you, man. Big-time.”
“Just buy me a drink next time you’re back this way.”
“It’s a deal.” The rookie grinned, his smile wide in his cleanly shaved face, and Cade noticed how young he looked, hardly over twenty.
Which made him suddenly feel old.
Just then the siren blared, ending their conversation, and they both turned toward the operations desk. Cade felt the familiar surge of adrenaline, followed by a swift jab of disappointment. His name wasn’t on that list.
The siren faded, and the operations foreman grabbed the mike. “We have a twelve-person jump request to the Bob Marshall Wilderness,” he announced. He turned to the jump list on the wall beside him. “Jumpers will be Susan Jennings, Jim Seibert, Rick Crossley…”
“Got to go!” The rookie darted to his locker, yanked out his Kevlar jump pants and rammed his legs inside.
The foreman finished reading the list, and people streamed into the ready room, instantly engulfing it in controlled commotion. Those not leaving began helping the jumpers suit up. Others snapped on parachutes and handed off gear. Everyone worked as a team to get the jumpers on the plane and off to the fire with lightning speed.
Feeling useless and in the way with his bum arm, Cade called the dog and moved outside to the ramp. He strolled past the shelves stocked with para cargo-climbing spurs and trauma kits, freeze-dried food and cubes of water-then leaned against a crate in the shade to watch the action. One by one, the jumpers staggered out of the ready room to the waiting Twin Otter, barely staying upright under the weight of their equipment.
A minute later, Trey wandered out and joined him in the shade. The Otter’s engine whined as the pilot prepared for takeoff. The spotter stood outside the door performing last-minute safety checks before the jumpers climbed on board. Cade felt the excitement in the air, the anticipation, and wished to hell he could get on that plane.
“Where are you on the list?” he asked Trey.
“About ten down now. I should make the next load.”
“Lucky man.” Cade sucked in a breath of jet fumes and blew it out.
“Yeah. This is turning into a great season for overtime pay.” He shot Cade an apologetic smile. “Hell of a time to get injured.”
“Yeah.” It was, but the risks were part of the job.
Trey tilted his head. “You planning on keeping the dog?”
Cade turned slightly to glance at the mutt, who was nosing around the trash can in the corner. And he remembered how Jordan had protected that dog, carrying him through the river and across the fire, even defying a mountain lion to save him.
A weight pressed down on his heart. “I don’t have much choice. He saved my life. The least I can do is feed him.”
“Have fun. That mutt ate three burgers and a large order of fries last night.”
Cade blinked. “You took him out for hamburgers?”
“Hey, it was a special occasion.”
Cade raised his brows.
“His first bath?”
“Right.” Cade shook his head and grinned, doubting Jordan would approve of that diet. But Jordan would never know what the dog ate. A swift cramp rent his heart, blocking his breath. Damn, he needed to get her out of his head.
Just then the rookie swaggered by on his way to the plane. “Thanks again, McKenzie,” he called. Then he laughed and said something to a female bro, his face beaming with excitement.
Cade shook his head again. “Man, those rookies look young.”
“We were the same age when we started.”
“Twenty-three.” And he could still remember how desperately he’d wanted to become a smokejumper, to belong to the firefighting elite. He’d worked like hell to get through rookie training, and he’d been so damned proud when he’d made it.
“You remember that trip to Cancun?” Trey asked.
“How could I forget it?” They’d headed down to Mexico right after that first season had ended, intending to have some fun. Two kick-ass smokejumpers out to raise hell on the beach.
And then he’d met Jordan.
She’d been even younger than he was, just out of high school. And his heart had fallen fast.
The last jumper climbed into the Otter, and the spotter leaped aboard. Seconds later, the plane turned and rolled down the runway. The engines screamed as it picked up speed and lifted off.
Cade watched it head toward the distant mountains and disappear into the hot blue haze. He loved that moment when the plane took off, when he was soaring into the sky toward adventure, never knowing what would await him or what incredible sights he might see.
Living the smokejumper dream.
“Easy to make mistakes at that age,” Trey said.
“I guess.” Cade tugged his attention back to earth and touched his sling. The rookie had made a mistake, all right, taking him out for the season. But everyone screwed up sometimes.
Even him. And he’d screwed up big-time with Jordan.
“I always liked her, you know,” Trey added. “I figured she must have had a reason to leave.”
Cade didn’t pretend not to understand. It was obvious he was talking about Jordan. He squinted out at the hazy sky. “She had a miscarriage.”
“Yeah? You never told me she was pregnant.”
“I didn’t know.”
Neither spoke for several moments. A bro laughed from inside the building. In the distance, a car door slammed. The dog wandered over and sniffed the bicycle parked near the crates.
“That must have been rough on her,” Trey finally said.
“Yeah.” Cade’s chest squeezed as he pictured the scene. Jordan lying in the hospital, scared and alone, her beautiful eyes black with terror, her face as pale as the sheets.
He fisted his hand, knowing how much she had suffered, imagining her fierce pain and grief.
And she’d been so damn young. Hell. Could he really blame her for bolting?
Guilt slid through his gut. He’d hardly been perfect. He’d been full of himself back then, cocky, just like the rookie he’d saved. Too caught up in the thrill of smokejumping to notice her needs.
He should have paid more attention. He never should have brushed her complaints or fears aside.
And he should have discussed his decision to join that booster crew with her. They’d been married, for God’s sake, but he’d still acted as if he were single.
Remorse soured his gut. So he wasn’t blameless. She’d been right about that.
And she’d been right about something else. They hadn’t talked enough. They’d both made assumptions that had ruined their marriage. He’d figured she could cope on her own. She’d thought he only cared about his job.
“I was in Alaska when it happened,” he said.
“Living the dream.”
“Right.” The twist of his lips was sardonic. But was it really a dream if it had cost him Jordan? Was any job, even this one, worth losing the woman he loved?
He squinted into the sunny haze. Back when he’d first started, he’d thought so. Smokejumping was everything
