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Facing the Fire
Gail Barrett
Never marry a smoke jumper!Jordan Wells adopted that motto after her divorce from Cade McKenzie. She wanted a man who wasn't constantly running to the latest disaster–leaving her behind. Years later, she was finally ready to sell her mountain cabin–the only thing that still connected her to her ex–and move on with her life.Cade had sworn he was long over Jordan, but when a deadly fire threatened her life, he didn't hesitate to lead her on a dangerous race out of a burning Montana forest. Forced to take shelter in each other's arms, old passions were ignited. And desire soon proved to be a greater threat than any wildfire…



Facing the Fire
Gail Barrett






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my mother for all those trips to the library, where I
discovered the magical world of books, and to my dad
for attending everything, even the bagpipe competitions.
Your support matters more than you know.

Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:
Special thanks again to Forest Service spokesman
Tim Eldridge for answering my endless questions,
and to smoke jumpers everywhere for everything
you do. You are amazing!

Chapter 1
Jordan Wells lifted the old metal bucket out of the icy stream and set it beside her on the bank. Shivering, she rubbed her wet, chilled hands on her jeans to warm them. She’d forgotten how cold these Montana streams were. They were little more than glacial melt rushing down the mountains.
But the place was beautiful, she had to admit. Smiling, she glanced around the tiny clearing. Early-afternoon sunlight sifted through the Douglas fir trees, making the water sparkle. The clear stream raced over rocks and overturned pebbles while the pine boughs moaned above.
She inhaled the deep-forest air, that complex mix of ancient pines and earth, so unlike the cornfields and woods of Virginia. She’d loved this place once. Being here had filled her with peace, serenity. She’d felt protected from the world, sheltered in the tiny cabin with Cade.
She closed her eyes and, just for a moment, let the images swamp her. Cade’s hard face. His low, rough voice. That devastating grin.
The shocking thrills, the wild excitement she’d felt in his strong arms.
But that was before the fire season had started and the loneliness set in. The weeks apart. The endless waiting. Never knowing when he’d come back or how long he would stay.
Then the pleading. The desperation. That stark white hospital bed.
The shattering realization that he loved leaping out of airplanes more than he loved her. And always would.
She opened her eyes with a sigh. But that had happened years ago. That life was gone forever, like the innocent, trusting girl she’d once been.
And that was exactly why she’d come back here. To put that painful past to rest forever and prove she was over Cade. To sell the cabin she’d ignored for years and finally move on with her life. To marry Phil, a stable, steady man with a normal job who’d never rush off on wild adventures and leave her to suffer alone. Who’d waited far too patiently for too many months for her to accept his proposal.
And she would finally say yes to him. She’d be crazy not to. That man was everything she wanted.
She’d accept, all right. As soon as she cleaned out the cabin, she’d stop at the real estate agency in Missoula, sign the contract to sell this place and catch the next flight back East.
She rose and lifted the dented bucket. The thick bed of pine needles muffled her footsteps as she trudged up the narrow trail toward the house.
The wind gusted in the pine trees again and they creaked and wailed overhead. The tinge of wood smoke wafted past and Jordan paused. Had someone built a cabin nearby? She hadn’t noticed any new side roads or even tire tracks on the long drive in. Maybe a passing hiker had started a campfire despite the burning ban.
Then she caught the distant buzz of an airplane and her breath stalled. A DC3 jump ship. She’d recognize that sound anywhere. She’d heard that sad, wrenching drone every time Cade flew away.
Her heart pumping hard against her ribs, she set the bucket on the ground and looked up. A patch of blazing blue sky peeked through the thrashing pines.
Could there be a fire nearby? Fear crawled down her spine. How would she know? Her cell phone didn’t work out here so she couldn’t call to find out, and no one knew where she was. She listened intently, but the lonely sound drifted away.
She inhaled deeply, but only smelled fresh air and pine. She eased her breath back out. It was just her imagination. Old ghosts. The very memories she’d come here to banish.
She picked up the bucket and carted it into the cabin. Old ghosts or not, she’d better finish quickly and leave.

Cade McKenzie stood in the open doorway of the DC3 and sucked in the smell of burning pine. Below him, black, roiling smoke pierced by huge orange flames rose from the Montana forest and covered the earth with a threatening shadow.
Undaunted, he snapped down his face guard and narrowed his eyes. No matter how formidable the fire, he’d stop it. The steep hills and volatile winds only challenged him more. And he knew the eleven smokejumpers poised behind him felt the same.
The spotter, hanging partway out the door beside him, pulled in his head from the slipstream. “Hold into the wind,” he shouted over the roar of the rushing air. “And stay wide of the fire. It’s gusting bad down low.”
Cade nodded and returned his attention to the fire. They would jump near the heel and contain it first, then split up and secure the flanks. Despite the dry conditions, they could pinch off the head by late tomorrow—unless the wind changed direction and whipped the flames toward Granite Canyon.
His gaze shifted west toward the canyon bordered by a silver ridge. From the air, the dense pines hid the log cabin he knew was nestled beside the boulders. His old cabin, where he’d spent the most intoxicating months of his life—until Jordan decided she couldn’t handle living with a smokejumper and cleared out. A sharp stab of bitterness tightened his gut. Hell of a time to think of his ex-wife.
He forced the old anger aside. She’d raked him over good, all right, but he’d never see her again. She wouldn’t have kept the cabin after all these years. Still, he needed to make sure no one was in there in case the wind switched and the fire jumped the only road out.
“We’re on final.” The spotter scooted back and struck the side of the open door. His adrenaline rising, Cade moved forward into jump position. His jump partner, a rookie from a booster crew out of Boise, pressed in close behind him.
His muscles bunched, his gaze focused on the horizon, he waited for the spotter’s signal. An intense calm settled over him and his mind stilled.
And in that moment, he felt perfectly right. He was doing what he was born for, what he loved.
The spotter slapped his calf hard. His pulse jerked. He thrust himself out of the plane and into the roaring slipstream. And hurtled ninety miles an hour toward the fiery earth.

The wind rose again, swirling the orange flames high and pushing sparks and smoke over the line. Cade cut off his chain saw and lifted his arm to wipe the sweat dripping down his cheeks beneath his hard hat.
Something wasn’t right; he could feel it. But what? They’d secured the heel without problems and begun scratching a line up both flanks. But instead of feeling confident they would slay this dragon, unease slid through his gut. And he’d fought fires for too many years to ignore his instincts.
Unsettled, he strode to the pile of equipment and set down his saw, then pulled his canteen from his personal-gear bag. He drank deeply, letting the warm water soothe his parched throat.
“Hey, Cade.”
His smokejumping bro, Trey Campbell, strolled over. They’d rookied the same year out of Missoula and jumped together ever since. And after Jordan had deserted him, they’d spent more nights than he could remember frequenting Montana’s bars.
Trey rummaged in his own bag and pulled out his water. “Any word on this wind?” he asked.
“No, but it feels like it’s picking up.” He frowned back at the fire. Heavy brush and snags littered the forest floor, fueling the surging flames. The erratic wind kicked up sparks and slopped spot fires over the line.
He recapped his canteen, pulled out his radio and keyed the mike. “Dispatch, this is McKenzie.”
His radio crackled. “Go ahead, McKenzie.”
“Any idea what’s going on with this wind? It’s blowing the hell out of our line.”
Voices murmured in the background. “We’ll call the district for an update,” the dispatcher said. “We’ll get right back to you on that.”
“Thanks.” He stuffed the radio in the side pocket of his bag. “Do you mind taking over for awhile?” he asked Trey. “There’s a cabin by the rim of the canyon I need to check out, make sure there aren’t any people hanging around.” Like his ex-wife? His stomach tightened but he quickly discounted that thought. “They’re going to need a head start getting out of here if that wind shifts.”
“That your old cabin by any chance?”
“Yeah.” Which he’d surrendered to Jordan, along with any illusions he’d ever had about marriage. “After I swing by the cabin, I’ll recon the head again, too. When dispatch gets back with that wind report, we can decide where to build line tonight.”
“Got it.” Trey’s teeth flashed white in his soot-streaked face. He shoved his canteen into his personal-gear bag, picked up his chain saw, and loped back toward the line.
Cade took a final swallow of water, then stuffed his canteen in his own personal-gear bag. He moved a small notebook and compass to the side pocket with the radio, and secured the flap.
A sudden blur in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he glanced up. A blazing snag pitched silently forward, and his heart stopped.
A widow maker. A dead, burning tree that fell without warning, killing anyone in its path. And it was heading straight for their line.
“Watch out,” he shouted. “A snag!”
The men immediately scattered—except for one. His jump partner, the rookie. The kid looked up, then froze.
Oh, hell. Cade lunged to his feet and sprinted forward. The tree toppled closer and his adrenaline surged. With a final burst of speed, he barreled into the rookie and knocked him out of the way.
And was instantly slammed to the ground.
His breath fled as a massive weight crushed his back. He struggled to lift his face from the dirt, but branches covered his head.
He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. Where was the rookie? He tried to shout, but couldn’t move his mouth.
He shoved against the ground but the branches trapped him. Heat blazed up his back and his adrenaline rose. He pushed again, his efforts futile against the punishing weight.
“Cade! Are you okay? Oh, God. Get him out!”
“We need saws in here,” someone else yelled over the roar. “Hurry up!”
Cade’s eyes burned. He choked down hot smoke and coughed. Heat crawled up his neck and he gasped for breath.
Chain saws wailed and men shouted. The weight shifted slightly and the branches thrashed above him. Then suddenly, they were gone.
He lifted his head and sucked in air. Work boots stood inches from his face, along with green Nomex pants.
“Oh, man,” the rookie said, his voice trembling. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t touch him.” Trey crouched beside him. “Speak to me, buddy.”
“I’m fine,” Cade managed.
“Are you sure?” the rookie asked. “Man, that was close.”
“Damn close,” Trey said. “He’s lucky the trunk missed him. If he’d been one second slower…”
But he’d escaped, and so had the rookie. “Thanks, guys.” He struggled to push himself upright. Pain knifed his shoulder and he hitched in a ragged breath.
“Hold on. We’ll help you up,” Trey said.
“I can do it.” He wasn’t injured, for God’s sake. He just needed to catch his breath. “Just get a line around that snag before it spreads the fire.”
He forced himself to his knees. Nausea roiled through his belly, but he ignored it and stood.
He waited until the ground steadied and the chain saws started up again. Then, his head down, his right shoulder throbbing, he staggered off the line. His pulse lurched. His skull hammered. Sweat and ash stung his eyes.
The rookie stayed with him. “I still can’t believe how fast that fell. I didn’t even hear it coming.”
Cade stopped near the pile of equipment. He inhaled, and pain seared straight to his ribs.
“Man, do I owe you,” the rookie continued. “I can’t believe I froze like that.”
“Forget it.”
“No, really. If you hadn’t pushed me out of the way—”
“We’d be peeling your skin off that stob,” Trey said from behind them. “Look, we’ll do the play-by-play later. Grab a Pulaski and help get that damned thing inside the line.”
“Sure.” The rookie grabbed the ax-like Pulaski. “Thanks again, man. I owe you.” He turned and trotted off.
Cade tipped back his head. Even that small movement made him grimace.
“We’d better look at that shoulder,” Trey said.
“I’m fine. I just need to catch my breath.” He bent to grab his canteen, then froze as his back and ribs pulsed.
Angry now, he straightened. A wave of dizziness blurred his eyes.
“Come on, Cade. You know the rules.”
He knew the drill, all right. Safety first. Get an injured man off the mountain. Anyone who couldn’t outrun a fire endangered himself and the other jumpers.
And he was far too professional to compromise his men.
But he wasn’t seriously injured. His shoulder was probably just wrenched. And smokejumpers worked hurt all the time. Bad knees, sprained ankles…Chronic pain came with the job.
Besides, he couldn’t leave the fire—his fire. Not until they had it under control.
And those damn doctors. What if they took him off the jump list? Hell! He couldn’t stop jumping now, not with fires raging all over the west.
Not ever. Dread rolled through his gut. “Just give me a minute,” he said. “I’ll shake it off.” He reached up to remove his hard hat. Pain flamed through his shoulder and he dropped his hand. He glanced at Trey and saw the doubt in his eyes.
“We can’t wait,” Trey said. “If this wind picks up, they’ll ground the choppers. We need to call it in now.”
“A few more minutes won’t matter. Look, I’ll go check out that cabin and make sure no one’s hanging around. If my shoulder isn’t better by then, I’ll call it in myself.”
“Cade—”
“For God’s sake. Nothing’s broken.” With supreme effort, he picked up his PG bag and swung it over his left shoulder. Sweat popped out on his forehead and he struggled to breathe.
Trey shook his head. “All right, but I’m going with you, and we’ll scout a landing spot on the way.”
“Fine.” He hated pulling a man off the line, but didn’t bother to argue. He knew he’d need every bit of breath he had for the steep trek to the cabin.

By the time they reached Granite Canyon, Cade could hardly stay upright. His head reeled, hot pain ripped through his shoulder, and his ribs burned whenever he breathed.
He stopped at the black Jeep Liberty parked under the trees and propped himself against it to catch his breath.
“You okay?” Trey asked.
“A little winded.” He blinked to clear his blurred vision.
“McKenzie?” a voice on his radio called.
“I’ll see who’s in the cabin,” Trey said.
“Go ahead.” Glad to have an excuse to lean against the Jeep, Cade pulled his radio from his bag. “McKenzie here.”
“This is dispatch. We got that weather report you wanted.”
“Good. What’s the forecast?” He watched Trey stride to the door.
“Right now it’s holding steady at fifteen knots, with gusts up to twenty-five. But there’s a front coming through….”
The cabin door opened. A tall, slender woman stepped out and her dark hair gleamed in the light. Trey shifted sideways, and Cade caught sight of her face.
His heart stalled. His chest cramped tight, and suddenly, he felt dazed, as if the tree had crushed him again.
His gaze swept over her features. Those dark, exotic eyes. That full, erotic mouth. And damned if he didn’t still feel that pull, that powerful lure of passion and innocence that had once demolished his heart.
He scowled. Innocence, hell. She was as helpless as a rattler, and about as trustworthy, too.
She looked past Trey and their gazes latched. Her dark eyes widened and she mouthed his name.
Bitterness seeped through his gut. His ex-wife. Just what he’d needed to cap off a hell of a day.
“Did you get that?” the person on the radio asked.
“Yeah, I heard you.” He turned his back on his ex-wife. The motion set off another wave of dizziness. “Listen. There’s a Forest Service road that runs just north of the fire, then intersects with Highway 10. Is it still clear?”
“It is for now. In an hour it could get dicey. The front’s going to push that way.”
Unless they stopped the fire first.
“Okay. Let me know if anything changes. We’ve got a civilian heading out that way.” He turned the radio to scan.
Trey jogged over. “She’s packing up now. She’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.”
“Great.” He shoved his radio into his bag and sharp pain jolted his shoulder. He sucked in his breath.
“Some shock seeing her again,” Trey added.
“Yeah.” Shock didn’t begin to describe it. He felt that familiar anger blaze through him, the same rage and resentment that had consumed him for months. The fury that he’d let himself be conned by a pretty face in search of an easy paycheck. And had convinced himself it was love.
“How’s the shoulder?” Trey asked.
He brought his attention back to his job. Smokejumping. Fighting fire. The only thing that mattered. Everything he was.
But he had to face the harsh truth. He couldn’t work this fire with his body in this condition, and refusing to leave could endanger the troops.
“It hurts like hell,” he admitted. “My collarbone’s probably cracked. I’d better get it checked.”
“Do you want me to call for a chopper?”
“There’s no place to land. The nearest clearing’s a mile up that ridge.” He’d hiked this forest enough to know.
“So we cut a spot.”
“We don’t have time. A front’s moving in. If we don’t get that fire stopped now it could go big.” Which would endanger the men even more. And he could never live with himself if that happened.
“So what do you suggest?” Trey asked.
What else could he do? The men couldn’t afford to waste valuable time clearing a landing pad, and he couldn’t get himself to that ridge.
He glanced at the Jeep. Dread churned through his gut and the bitter taste of gall filled his mouth.
It had been one hell of a day, all right. And it was about to get even worse.
He slowly turned back to the cabin. The door opened and Jordan stepped out, carrying a bag. He smiled grimly. “It looks like I’m going to hitch myself a ride.”

Chapter 2
Still reeling from the shock of seeing Cade again, Jordan loaded the last of her belongings in the back of the Jeep and shut the hatch. She’d never expected to see him here. Never. And now she was going to spend six hours with him in the Jeep? Good God. Dealing with his memory had been hard enough.
She lifted her stunned gaze to her ex-husband. He stood at the front of the Jeep with Trey, examining a map spread over the hood. While she’d packed up the few blankets and bowls worth saving from the cabin, they’d pored over the map, discussing wind speed and fire retardant.
Cade’s hard hat dipped as he folded the map and tucked it into his PG bag. Then he pulled out a battery pack and handed it to Trey. “You might as well take my spares,” he said. “You could be out here for a while.”
His deep, sensual voice drew goose bumps along her arms, and despite the warm wind, she shivered. God, she’d once loved that voice. It was the first thing she’d noticed about him in that smoky Mexican bar.
The first of many. He stepped away from the Jeep and her gaze drifted over the rest of him. Ashes dusted his battered boots. His olive drab pants rode low on his lean hips and his yellow fire shirt stretched wide across his shoulders. He looked broader through the chest than before, his neck thicker.
Her pulse fluttered. Even in his early twenties, he’d been a gorgeous man. But now…
Now he was simply a smokejumper who needed a ride.
Trey nodded in her direction. “Thanks for helping us out here.”
“Sure. No problem.” Trey headed toward the trees, and her pulse faltered. No problem? When she was alone in the forest with Cade?
She slid her gaze to her ex-husband, and those shocking blue eyes met hers. Her heart lurched, then wobbled madly. Oh, God, those eyes. How could she have forgotten? That brilliant blue. That carnal gleam. And when he’d smiled…She’d taken one fatal look in that Cancún bar and fallen hard.
But he didn’t smile at her now. His gaze slammed into hers, narrow and cold, as stark as the grim lines bracketing his mouth. Harsh, like the chiseled cheekbones streaked with dirt and the hard jaw lined with blond stubble.
He strode toward her and her nerves climbed higher. She scanned his face, searching for a hint of warmth. His mouth flattened, and her hopes tumbled. So much for a friendly ride.
He stopped at the rear passenger door, his stony gaze locked on hers. “You ready?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He dropped his PG bag to the ground, yanked open the door with his left hand and hefted the bag to the seat. Still using the same hand, he pulled off his hard hat, dumped it beside the bag, and slammed the door. Then he opened the front passenger door and bent his long frame to climb in the Jeep. He froze with a rough gasp of breath.
And suddenly, it hit her. No wonder he wanted a ride. He was injured—and badly, if it had made him leave his job. The job he’d loved more than her.
She quickly moved behind him. “Can I help?”
“No.”
“But your arm—”
“It’s fine.”
Uncertain, she stepped back. He pulled himself inside the Jeep and awkwardly reached for the door.
“Here, let me—” She started to close it, but his hard stare stopped her cold. “Fine.” She lifted her hands and backed off, then stalked to the driver’s-side door. Let him fend for himself if he was too proud to accept any help.
Too proud or too bitter?
She slid behind the wheel and braved a glance at the man slumped beside her. His skin looked ashen beneath the grime, his profile strained. The faint scent of wood smoke permeated his clothes.
She shook her head. Why would he be angry? He was the one who’d abandoned her. He’d flown off with that booster crew to Alaska, just when she’d needed him most.
She blocked off a swell of resentment. It didn’t matter anymore. Their marriage was over, and had been since the day he’d left for refresher training.
Besides, she had her life in Virginia now—a good one, too, including a man who’d never leave her. All she had to do was drive Cade back to Missoula and then she’d never see him again.
She inhaled deeply, cranked the engine to life and slowly released the clutch. The Jeep lurched forward, hit a downed branch, and jostled sideways.
She glanced at Cade. The grooves deepened around his mouth and his skin paled even more. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Her nerves tightened. Maybe he was all right, but she had a feeling this was going to be the longest six hours of her life.

The Jeep had stopped moving. Disoriented, Cade forced open his eyes and blinked hard to clear his blurred vision. They were parked in the middle of the narrow dirt road, surrounded by towering pines. The driver’s door hung open and the warm wind ruffled a paper napkin on the console. Jordan was nowhere in sight.
He lifted his hand to rub his eyes, then froze as pain sliced his shoulder. Damn. That tree had slammed him good. His skull vibrated like the two-stroke engine of a chain saw, and his entire body felt pummeled.
He glanced at his watch, then slumped back against the seat and shut his eyes. They’d only been driving for a few minutes. He’d either passed out or fallen asleep as soon as they’d left the cabin.
But where was Jordan? And why weren’t they moving? He jerked his eyes open again. This was a hell of a time to take a break. They needed to get out of here before the wind picked up and pushed the fire to the road.
Stifling a groan, he reached over with his left hand and shoved his door open, then swung out his legs and stepped down. Dizziness swamped him, and he hung on to the door to catch his balance. Several breaths later, the ground steadied and he slowly straightened.
“Don’t shut the door,” Jordan said, her voice low.
Startled, he turned toward the back of the Jeep. Jordan knelt in the road facing the woods. His gaze followed the curve of her slender back to the lush flare of her hips. Her faded blue jeans were covered with dust.
“What are you doing?”
“Sshh.” She rose to her feet and backed toward him. “I’m trying to catch a dog.”
“What?”
“Quiet! You’ll scare him off.”
He frowned at the bowl of water she’d set on the road next to what looked like pieces of sandwich. He followed her line of vision to the trees but couldn’t see anything.
He massaged his eyes. “How long ago did we stop?”
“I don’t know. Maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Hell. They were far too close to the cabin. “Listen—”
“Shh. Here he comes.”
A clump of ferns edging the road swayed, and then a dog slunk out. At least he thought it was a dog. It was the scrawniest thing he’d ever seen, with wary, desperate eyes set in a gaunt face hollowed by hunger.
“I almost hit him,” she murmured. “He was sitting right in the road.”
The dog limped closer, favoring his right front paw, then stopped several yards away. Trembling, his tail tucked to his belly and dark ears flattened, he again inched cautiously forward. His eyes darted from them to the food and he let out a pitiful whine.
“I thought he was a coyote at first,” she said, her voice low.
“Coyotes are fatter than that.”
“That’s why I decided he was a dog. Either he’s lost or someone dumped him off in the forest. As if a pet can survive out here by instinct.”
Her indignation didn’t surprise him. She’d always had a soft spot for animals, even wild ones. When they’d lived at the cabin, she’d hung bird feeders in the woods and set salt licks out for the deer.
He turned his attention back to the dog, who was creeping toward the food. He was some sort of shepherd mix, with a matted, tawny coat and dark gray mask and ears. The dog reached the food and stopped. Then suddenly, he bolted back to the woods.
Cade glanced at his watch again. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Go?” Jordan frowned. “But what about the dog?”
“He’ll eat as soon as we leave.”
“And then what? Where’s he going to get more food?” She planted her hands on her hips. The motion tightened the white T-shirt over her breasts. “You saw how skinny he is. And he needs to get to a vet. That front paw doesn’t look good.”
“We don’t have a choice. We need to get out of here before that front hits.”
“But we can’t just leave him here alone.”
That figured. She cared more about leaving a stray dog than she once had about her husband. “For God’s sake—”
“Forget it, Cade. I’m not leaving that poor dog behind. He’s already been abandoned once, and believe me, that’s enough for anyone.” Her dark eyes flashed. “Not that you’d understand that.”
Not that he’d understand what? “What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” His irritation surged.
She lifted her hands and sighed. “All right, fine. I’ll tell you. It’s just that you’re always flying off and traveling somewhere. Having adventures and putting out fires. You don’t know what it’s like to be left behind, to be sitting at home waiting, day after lonely day. But I do. And believe me, I’m not doing that to the dog.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who left me.”
“Only because you’d already gone.”
Incredulity flooded through him. He would have laughed if his ribs didn’t ache so much. “Hell, that’s rich. You walk out without even a note. I come home to an empty house and a goddamn letter from your lawyer. And you accuse me of abandoning you?”
“You went to Alaska.”
He stared at her. “I was working. Earning money. You know, trying to support my wife?”
Her brows rose. “You’re not seriously saying you were doing it for my sake?”
“Hell, yes, I was doing it for you. Wasn’t I supposed to work?”
“But you were gone all the time. You hardly came back. You even joined that booster crew to Alaska.”
“That was my job,” he said tightly. “You knew that when we got married. The Forest Service owns you in the summer. They send you wherever the fires are. You can’t control where you go. And you can’t just turn work down.”
“You could have found a different job.”
“Right.” That was their problem, right there. Ten years ago, he’d idolized this woman. Worshipped her. Given her his heart, his soul. Everything he owned and every damned cent he earned. And she still hadn’t been satisfied. She’d wanted him to change who he was.
She bit her lip. Her dark eyes widened with that vulnerable look that always made him want to protect her.
His jaw flexed. She knew exactly how to play him, all right. Even knowing the truth, how she’d ripped out his heart and screwed him over, he had the ridiculous urge to console her.
Well, she’d suckered him in once with that helpless act. Damned if he would fall for it again.
She sighed. “Look. Can we just forget it? I don’t want to argue all the way to Missoula.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t need this aggravation. He had enough problems to deal with. He needed to hightail it back to Missoula and get himself checked by a doctor so he could return to the jump list.
“Catching the dog won’t take that long,” she added. “I’m sure he was somebody’s pet.”
“We’ve already stayed here too long. That road’s going to close any minute.”
“Is the fire really that close?”
He glanced at the thrashing treetops. “It depends on the wind speed, but yeah, it’s almost here.”
“But what’s the dog going to do in the fire?” Her dark eyes pleaded with his. “He can’t run with that hurt paw. And he’s so hungry.”
“He’ll get away.” He returned his gaze to the dog skulking from the safety of the trees. Despite his assurances, they both knew that he wouldn’t make it. He was far too weak to escape a wildfire.
“Just give me five more minutes.” Her soft brown eyes met his again, and despite the urgency, he felt himself waver. “Please?”
He pulled his gaze from hers and back to the swaying pine trees. He was a damn fool, risking his life for a stray mutt and a woman who had betrayed him. But crazy or not, the sooner they captured that dog, the faster they could leave the forest.
“Three,” he told her. “And not a second more.” Resigned, he opened the rear passenger door and riffled through his PG bag. He found his supply of beef jerky in the side compartment, removed several strips and handed them to Jordan. “Here. If this doesn’t get him, nothing will.”
“Thanks.” Her full mouth softened into a smile, and he felt the tug to his heart.
He was a fool, all right. Annoyed by his weakness for this woman, he strode to the front of the Jeep. Then he propped himself against it to wait.
Jordan walked to the edge of the road, broke off a piece of beef jerky and tossed it to the dog. The dog eyed it and scented the air. The warm wind blew dried pine needles across the road and lifted the fur on his ruff. After several seconds, he padded forward and licked the jerky, then finally gulped it down.
Jordan held out another piece. “Come on, sweetie,” she cooed. “Come here. We won’t hurt you.”
Without warning, Cade felt the caress of her soft voice, remembered it sliding over him in the dark, along with her lips and body. His gaze roved her tiny waist, the curve of her bottom encased in tight blue jeans, the pale patch of skin exposed beneath the T-shirt. He wanted to run his hands up that silken skin, taste her heat, her desire. Hear that low moan she made when he stroked her naked breasts.
He dragged in his breath. This was a hell of a time to remember their sex life—the one thing they’d gotten exactly right.
He forced his attention back to the dog. Looking as mesmerized as Cade had once been by Jordan’s voice, the dog crept cautiously closer. But he stopped a few feet from her hand.
Cade’s admiration rose. The dog was smarter than he’d ever been. That sexy voice wouldn’t trap him.
“Come here,” Jordan wheedled. The dog whined, and she tossed him another piece of jerky. Still trembling, he again inched forward. Then he snatched up the jerky and ate it.
“That’s right,” Jordan encouraged. She held out another piece. “You’re such a sweetie. Such a good dog.”
The dog moved even closer. Just inches from her hand, he stopped, plopped his hindquarters in the dust and craned his neck toward her hand.
“Look, he has a collar. He really was someone’s pet.”
“Jordan—”
“I know. We’re almost there. Such a good dog,” she continued cooing. Seconds later, the dog scooted forward and took the beef from her hand. “Good boy! Now let’s get you in the car. Come on, sweetie. Come on.” Holding another fragment of jerky, she backed slowly to the Jeep. The dog glanced at Cade and yawned.
“Look away,” she said.
“What?”
“You’re stressing him out. Don’t look him in the eyes. And yawn if you can. That will make him feel safer.”
Skeptical, but willing to do anything to hurry them out of the forest, Cade turned his head and faked a yawn. In his peripheral vision, he saw the dog creep toward the Jeep, and his respect for Jordan grew. So she could manage dogs.
“Okay, this is the test.” She set the jerky on the floor of the Jeep and stepped back. “Come on,” she urged.
The wind creaked the pine branches in the silence. The dog limped forward, then stopped. Seconds ticked by, and Cade’s impatience mounted. But just as he opened his mouth to protest, the dog jumped into the Jeep.
Jordan closed the door. “Got him.” She whirled around and beamed up at him, and he felt the kick to his heart. “That beef jerky was perfect. What a great idea.”
“I guess he just needed the right enticement.” His gaze slid over her creamy face to the pale smattering of freckles on her nose, over soft, full lips and down to her breasts. His pulse leaped. He knew what had motivated him.
Until she’d gutted his heart and stomped out his illusions. His jaw hardened. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Sure.” Hurt flashed in her eyes and she turned away.
Hell. He hadn’t meant to sound rude, but he didn’t have time to mince around her feelings. They had to get out of this forest fast.
While she retrieved the bowl she’d set in the road, he climbed into the Jeep and closed his door. The movement sent pain shooting through his shoulder and he struggled to breathe. As bad as he ached, he must have cracked his collarbone, maybe even a couple of ribs. Jordan slid in beside him and slammed her door, and the sound throbbed through his skull. He probably had a concussion, too. He just hoped it wouldn’t keep him off the jump list long.
She cranked the engine and they lurched forward. Unable to buckle his seat belt, he planted his feet wide against the floorboard to steady himself in the seat. Fighting off another bout of dizziness, he closed his eyes.
For several moments, they drove in silence. Warm air rushed through the open windows. The Jeep bounced down the dusty road, eating up the distance toward the front. Like any seasoned smokejumper, Cade used the spare time to rest.
“Do you smell something?” Jordan asked.
He blinked open his eyes and sniffed. “Yeah. That damn dog stinks.”
She shot him a wry smile. “I mean besides the dog. I could smell him out in the open.” Her smile faded, and worry crept into her eyes. “I think I smell smoke.”
He inhaled deeply this time, ignoring the ache in his ribs. The faint scent of burning pine filled his lungs. “Yeah, I smell it.”
“Do you think we’re too late to get through?”
“We’ll find out.” He scanned the thick trees lining the road but didn’t see signs of the fire.
“I’ll go faster.” She accelerated, and the Jeep leaped forward. Dirt spun under the tires and kicked up clouds of dust. They hit a hard bump, jarring his shoulder, and he choked back a groan. He didn’t care how much the damned thing throbbed. He’d have to wait and deal with it later, after they got past the fire.
The Jeep rocketed down the road and the smell of smoke grew stronger. Jordan stared straight ahead, her brow furrowed in concentration. Cade felt his own tension mount.
Then smoke drifted over the road and his stomach tightened. The fire was closer than he’d thought. And unless the front made a sharp detour, they’d be caught in its path.
They careened around a curve and up a knoll, and suddenly, the front appeared on the right. Deep-orange flames surged toward them. Dark, heavy smoke roiled over the road.
“Stop!”
Jordan slammed on the brakes. The Jeep skidded sideways, and Cade braced his boot against the dashboard to keep from hitting the windshield. They abruptly jerked to a stop.
The roar of the wildfire filled the forest. The wind whipped the tall flames skyward and curled them high through the trees. Dry branches exploded in brilliant bursts, shooting flames through the crowns.
“Oh, God,” Jordan breathed.
Cade frowned. From what he could see through the smoke, the perimeter was completely erratic. Long fingers of flame ran ahead of the front, pushed by the powerful winds. Sparks blew through the billowing smoke and torched spot fires over the road.
A gust of wind scattered ashes on the Jeep. Flare-ups hissed and snapped beside them.
“Cade,” Jordan said, her voice unsteady. “What are we going to do?”
Good question. “We can’t outrun that flame front.” Unless there was a natural barrier ahead that protected the road. And he sure as hell didn’t remember one.
His shoulder screamed as he reached back for the radio in his PG bag and he blinked against the pain. Maybe someone had reconned the fire from the air and knew if they could make it. The smoke was too thick for him to tell from the ground.
But then the wind gusted again. The smoke lifted, and he saw the road for himself. It ran straight ahead, right into the path of the fire.
He glanced at Jordan. Raw fear shone in her eyes. “Can we get out?” she asked, her voice trembling.
His gut twisted, and he reluctantly shook his head. “Not through that. We’re trapped.”

Chapter 3
Trapped? Jordan tore her gaze from Cade and gaped at the inferno raging before her. A fierce roar shook the air. Flames swirled up pines like fiery tornadoes and shot sparks far overhead.
Fear slammed through her nerves and she stifled a cry. They had to get away. Run! But she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even see where they needed to go.
Ashes blew across the windshield and the grass beside the Jeep started burning. A towering wall of fire charged toward them while thick, heavy smoke rolled over the road.
“Turn around,” Cade said over the noise.
“But the grass is burning!”
“So back up and then turn around.”
Of course. Her heart hammering, her breathing shallow, she threw the Jeep into Reverse and hit the gas. They sped back to a wide spot in the road and she slammed on the brakes. The Jeep bucked to a stop, then stalled. “Oh, God.”
“Take it easy,” Cade said, his voice even. “We’ve got time.”
Time? With the world around them on fire? She flicked her gaze to Cade. He slumped back in his seat, his head cradled casually against the headrest. How on earth could he stay so calm?
Her gaze switched to the windshield. The wild flames thundered over the earth, and terror raced through her chest. But Cade was right. This wasn’t the time to panic. She needed to control her fear and get them away from this fire.
Inhaling deeply, she cranked the engine and spun the wheel, making the Jeep lurch forward. Then she hit the brakes, shoved the gearshift into Reverse and shot back.
They stopped, and she sucked in another breath. She’d turned the Jeep around. Now she just had to drive away. Her heart still sprinting, she floored the gas pedal. The Jeep fishtailed, straightened and hurtled back up the dirt road.
They rounded a bend, and she looked in the rearview mirror. The flames disappeared behind the dense stands of fir trees, and she hitched out her breath. They were safe, at least for now. She eased up her foot on the gas.
Several breaths later, her heart stopped quaking. She pried her fingers from the steering wheel and rearranged her grip. The roar of the fire gradually faded, and her galloping pulse finally slowed.
But then she heard a soft, high whistle from the backseat. She pulled her foot off the gas and glanced back.
The dog huddled on the floor behind Cade’s seat, trembling wildly and breathing in thin, reedy gasps. “For goodness’ sake,” she said. He was hyperventilating. She reached back and stroked his soft head, and his worried gaze lifted to hers. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’re okay.”
At least she hoped so. She glanced at Cade, still slouched calmly in his seat, his booted feet planted on the floorboards. “What are we going to do now?”
His vibrant blue eyes met hers. “You remember that old logging trail past the cabin?”
“How could I forget it?” They’d hiked that trail dozens of times to picnic in the meadow by the stream.
At least they’d intended to picnic. Heat gathered low in her belly, along with a memory as intense as any fire. Of lying in the warm, sunlit grass, Cade’s strong arms holding her tight. His hard face taut, his breathing ragged. His eyes singeing hers.
His blue eyes narrowed, and she knew he remembered it, too. Her heart thumped hard against her ribs and she yanked her gaze to the road.
“It might not be open,” he continued, his voice rough. The husky timbre made her shiver. “I couldn’t tell when we were setting up to jump. The timber’s too heavy to see the road from the air.”
“I guess we can give it a try.”
“We don’t have a choice. There aren’t any other roads out here.”
She tried to picture the abandoned road. She remembered long, deep ruts and knee-high weeds, at least in the section they’d hiked. They’d never quite made it past that meadow.
She cleared her throat. “Do you know where it comes out?”
“According to the map, it should hook on with another Forest Service road on the other side of the mountain. That’s if we can get through.”
“And if we can’t?”
“We’ll figure something out.”
That remark was so typical of Cade that, despite her fear, the corner of her mouth curved up. “How many times have I heard that line?”
He lifted his uninjured shoulder, and she marveled again at his calm. He never worried or panicked, even with a forest fire licking his heels. He excelled when things got tough.
His confidence impressed her, though, and always had. And his strength. Her gaze slid down his corded neck and broad shoulders to those big, callused hands and muscled thighs. He was a tough, capable man, all right, and it had been easy to let him take charge.
But after he’d left, none of that strength had helped her. Not during the endless nights she’d spent alone. Not when she’d discovered she was pregnant. And especially not on the desperate drive to the hospital or in that cold, white hospital bed.
Or during the grief-stricken days that followed, when loss turned to desolation.
A hollow feeling filled her chest. She’d never told Cade about the baby. When he hadn’t returned, she’d simply packed a bag and left, the same as he’d done to her.
A sliver of guilt pierced her throat. She knew she’d handled that badly. Instead of fleeing Missoula, she should have stayed and told him the truth. But she’d been nineteen years old, in an agony of pain, and so shattered she couldn’t think straight.
And what did it matter now? The past was gone. And at least she’d learned her lesson. After suffering through a childhood with a wandering father and then that lonely marriage to Cade, she wanted a man who stayed home. And she’d have one, as soon as she got them out of the forest.
Her mind safely back on track, she drove quickly along the dusty road, past the spot where they’d rescued the dog. Minutes later, their old cabin came into view. Despite her neglect, it hadn’t changed much over the years. Dead branches littered the rooftop, but the weathered logs framing the one-room structure still lent it a sturdy look.
“You still have that chain saw?”
Startled, she glanced at Cade. “You think the road’s that bad?”
“It could be.”
She sucked in a breath. If trees blocked the road, it would take forever to cross the mountain. And what if the fire came their way?
Determined not to panic, she hissed her breath back out. “It’s in the toolshed.” She parked between the trees behind the cabin and cut the engine.
Cade climbed down, and she opened her door to follow. Then she paused. She’d had a hard time cleaning that cabin, surrounded by impressions of Cade. Every chipped plate, every battered utensil had flooded her with memories, reminding her of those tender days. And the bed….
Her face flamed. No wonder she’d ignored the cabin all these years. It had been far easier to let it go than relive those delirious times. And how could she stand to be here with him now?
She had no choice. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath of pine-tinged air and stepped down. “We’ll be right back,” she told the dog and closed the door.
Fir needles cushioned her steps as she trailed Cade to the wooden toolshed behind the cabin. She tried not to walk too close, to keep some distance between them. She didn’t want to feel his heat, his power, that mesmerizing tick of desire that consumed her whenever he was in sight.
He stopped at the door and waited for her to unlock it. She stepped beside him and that smoky scent reached her nostrils, along with the essence of Cade. Her head felt light, and her pulse quickened at the vivid memories. How many times had they done this together, coming home to the cabin? But back then, they’d be laughing. Cade would pull her close and nuzzle her neck….
Her hands shaking, her face burning, she fumbled to unlock the rusty padlock securing the door. She didn’t dare look at Cade.
She finally unhooked the lock and stepped back. Cade moved forward and she braved a glance at his face. His jaw was rigid, the muscles along his cheeks tense.
Without warning, his gaze met hers. And for an instant, she saw that old fire in his eyes, the urgency and passion.
And then, just as fast, it was gone.
Unable to breathe, she yanked her gaze to the ground. And suddenly, an ache swelled in her heart, along with a deep sense of loss, as if something special had disappeared from her life, something unique. A connection, a sense of destiny she’d never felt with anyone since. And maybe never would again.
Her throat cramped as Cade shoved the creaking door open and stepped past her into the shed. His boots tramped hard on the wooden floor, and his wide shoulders filled the narrow doorway. She blinked back the blur in her eyes.
Seconds later, he turned and handed her a coil of nylon line with an old wooden clothespin stuck to it. Somehow the rope made her feel even worse, and the wedge in her throat grew thicker. It shouldn’t have been fun washing their clothes by hand, stringing that line across the cabin in the winter, letting the clothes dry by the heat of the woodstove while they made love on the bed. But dear God, she’d adored this man.
She looked at his unyielding face and just then, it struck her. The deep bitterness he felt, the resentment. The fierce anger he’d fostered for years.
He blamed the collapse of their marriage on her.
But that was crazy! He was the one who had left. He’d chosen his job over her.
But he didn’t see it that way. A sick feeling spiraled through her stomach. Oh, God. “Cade, I…” Her voice shook, and her heart battered hard against her rib cage. “Back there, when we were catching the dog, you said, you thought I’d…that I’d abandoned you.”
He stilled, and the muscles along his jaw tensed. “You’re trying to tell me you didn’t?”
“Yes. I mean no, I didn’t, I never…”
“Right.” Bitterness seeped through his voice. “Well, you sure as hell fooled me.” He made a sound of disgust and turned away.
And her heart balled even tighter. She never would have abandoned Cade. She’d loved him back then, truly loved him, with a passion bordering on desperation. He’d been the center of her world, the hero of her childhood dreams—or so she’d thought.
But even when he’d crushed those dreams, she’d never intended to hurt him. She’d just been too wrapped up in her own misery to do anything more than flee.
She gazed at his rigid back and her heart wrenched. She had to tell him that. Even if it didn’t change how he felt, he needed to know the truth. He probably wouldn’t listen to her now, and with the fire at their backs, this wasn’t the time. But somehow, before they reached Missoula, she would explain.
He lifted a plastic fuel container with his left hand, shook it, and handed it back. Then he pulled the chain saw from the shelf. “When was the last time you used this?”
“I never have.”
“Hell. The damn thing probably won’t run.” He set it on the ground outside the shed, turned back and grabbed an ax. He set that down next to the chain saw.
“That’s it,” he said, still sounding angry. “Let’s go.”
Her heart weighted, she tucked the clothesline under her arm, picked up the chain saw, and headed toward the Jeep. She heard Cade close the shed door behind her.
He helped load the tools through the rear window, and every jerk of his arm, every twist of his head tightened her nerves, reminding her of the unfinished business between them. Still, she was thankful for his silence. With her emotions so raw, she didn’t trust herself to speak.
“The trail starts just past that boulder,” he said when they’d climbed back into the Jeep.
“I remember,” she managed. She pulled back onto the road and drove slowly toward the large rock, then stopped when she spotted the trail. Ferns sprawled over deep ruts and potholes. Branches poked through the clusters of weeds.
Her apprehension rose. “It looks pretty rough. Do you think the Jeep will make it?”
“It had better.”
“You’re right.” No matter how primitive, this road was their only way out. She tentatively stepped on the gas.
The Jeep bumped over a branch. The grooves around Cade’s mouth deepened and he cradled his arm to his chest. She hit the brakes, concerned. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You don’t look fine.” His skin had paled and new creases lined his forehead.
He flicked his hard gaze to her. “Well, looks can be deceiving, can’t they?”
A swift jab of hurt lanced her chest. “You think I deceived you?”
He raised a brow but didn’t answer, and she yanked her gaze to the trail. So he thought she had deceived him, that she’d lied to him when she left. In a way, she didn’t blame him. But he was wrong, and she had to explain that. She owed him that much after everything they’d shared.
But this wasn’t the time. Her throat aching with guilt and apprehension, she pressed on the gas. Fortunately, dodging branches demanded concentration and she pushed the past to the back of her mind.
But that left her to deal with the present. And no matter how difficult the trail was, her senses locked on the man stretched beside her. His long, muscled legs and sturdy boots filled the periphery of her vision. Every time she inhaled, his low, smoky scent scored her lungs. Even the rasp of his breath stroked her nerves into heightened awareness.
But then, he’d always had that effect on her. From the moment they’d met, he’d taken command of her senses. The attraction had been instant, overwhelming, sparking a passion they couldn’t contain. But even a fire that hot couldn’t sustain a marriage, especially when Cade wouldn’t stay home.
She glanced at him again and stifled a sigh. Unfortunately for her, the man still rattled her senses. Ten long years hadn’t dimmed that attraction one bit.
Which was going to make this one uncomfortable drive.
About a mile past the cabin, the road started climbing. Thankful for the distraction, she stopped and shifted to all-wheel drive. The sun slid behind the mountain as she powered uphill, sending long shadows over their path. The pines turned a darker shade of green, and the warm air gradually cooled.
Suddenly, she spotted the old meadow and her heart jammed in her throat. And despite her intentions, sensations clawed through her nerves, memories of rolling in that fragrant grass, alive and in love with Cade. When need had surged, and laughter had turned to breathtaking hunger.
Desperate to banish the memories, she stomped on the gas. The Jeep lurched forward, the meadow disappeared behind them, and she slowly released her breath.
She braved a glance at Cade. He stared straight ahead, the muscles along his jaw taut. Whether from pain or seeing the meadow, she didn’t know. And no way was she going to ask.
A moment later, he cleared his throat. “Have you used this Liberty much off-road?”
She inched out her breath. “It’s not mine. I rented it at the airport. I thought I might need an SUV if the roads were bad, and the Liberty was all they had.”
His eyes met hers. “So you don’t live around here?”
“No, I work in Virginia. I just came here on my vacation.”
“To stay in the cabin?”
“No, to sell it.” She pulled her gaze to the road. Frankly, she didn’t know why he’d ever given her the place. She hadn’t asked for it. And although she loved to hike, he was more the outdoorsman.
Maybe it had reminded him too much of her.
“So you don’t come here much?” he persisted.
“No.” Her gaze met his again. “This is my first trip back.”
His blue eyes narrowed on hers. She waited for him to ask why she still owned a cabin she never used. Why she hadn’t severed that tie to him years ago. Questions she’d refused to ask herself and certainly couldn’t answer.
His eyes searched hers, and her pulse drummed in her throat. “Looks like you picked a bad time,” he finally said.
“Yes.” She dragged her gaze away. Her timing stank, all right, especially since she’d come back to get over him. And the irony of that struck her hard. Instead of being able to forget the man, she now had to spend hours trapped in this Jeep beside him, conscious of every movement he made.
Moments later, the trees on the side of the road thinned, and Cade straightened in his seat. “Stop for a minute, will you?”
“Sure.” Anxious to put some distance between them, she braked and turned off the engine. Cool air blew through the open windows, along with the distant roar of the fire.
Cade grabbed his radio and climbed out. Jordan glanced back at the dog curled behind his seat and wondered if he needed a break. But what if she couldn’t catch him?
“Sorry, sweetie,” she said. “We’ll let you out later, when we’re farther away from the fire.” She stroked his head, smiling when he looked up and whined. He really was a sweet dog. Thank goodness she’d found him in time.
She got out of the Jeep, closed the door and stretched to ease the tension from her shoulders. Then she joined Cade at the edge of the road.
She looked down at the forest and the air locked in her throat. A sea of fire shimmered below them, rolling and seething like something alive. Brilliant orange flames streamed over the livid mass and whipped high into the sky.
“Looks like it jumped the road,” Cade said. “It’s a good thing we turned around.”
She searched for signs of the road they’d traveled, but the fire had swallowed it up. She shivered, suddenly very glad Cade was with her. What would she have done on her own?
The cool wind gusted and blew her long hair forward. She gathered the thick mass and held it over her shoulder to keep it out of her eyes. “It’s windy up here.”
“It’s that front pushing through.” He lifted his radio and pushed a button. A small red light came on. “Campbell, this is McKenzie.”
“McKenzie,” Trey radioed back seconds later. “What the hell are you still doing out here? I thought you’d be soaking in a hot tub with some naked blonde by now.”
Cade chuckled, and a swift pain cramped Jordan’s chest. Caught off guard, she sucked in her breath. She couldn’t be jealous. That was ridiculous. She and Cade were divorced!
She glanced at him, and her lungs closed up. He stood with his long legs braced apart, his wide shoulders framing his muscled body. Of course the women flocked to him. And when he looked at them with those eyes…
“Listen,” he said into the radio. “We couldn’t get through on the road, so we turned around. We’re up on the ridge behind the cabin.” He paused, and Trey said something she didn’t catch. “It’s pushing west,” Cade said, “but the perimeter’s erratic.”
Her stomach still churning, she turned away. Below her, a tree exploded, launching deep-orange flames toward the sky. She tried to imagine people down there fighting that fire—smokejumpers like Trey and Cade. How on earth did they find the courage?
“You’re probably going to need that tanker,” Cade said. “The mud should help you get close. Just make damned sure you’ve got an escape route.”
An escape route. She swallowed hard.
“Probably back inside the burned-out area,” he added. “And heads up on this one. I don’t like the way it looks.”
Fear lodged deep in her throat, and she took a long look at the fire. She’d never understood that aspect of Cade—how he could stand the danger. It had seemed reckless to her, even selfish, that he’d risk his life for this job. Every time he’d left, she’d been terrified he wouldn’t return.
And now that she could see the sheer enormity of the fire, the risk seemed even worse.
“Yeah, I’ll keep you posted.” He turned off the radio and his gaze met hers. And without warning, her world tilted even more. He was good at this, she realized, an expert. A leader who took charge and got the job done.
Not the thrill-seeker she’d once thought.
And he cared about his men. Enough to radio and help them, even when finding his own way out.
She cleared the sudden tightness from her throat. “Can they really put out this fire? It’s so huge.”
“It’s getting there.” He gazed down at the blaze. “They’ll have to get a tanker in here in the morning, probably bring in a hotshot crew and get more saws on the line.”
“Why didn’t they do that to begin with?”
“Because the fire wasn’t big enough then.” His gaze met hers. “Smokejumpers are the initial attack team. They drop us in while the fire’s still small, and we put it out before it goes big.” He smiled wryly. “At least that’s the idea. If we can contain it, we save them a lot of money.”
She looked out at the fire again. “You save more than money.” That fire devoured trees and killed animals. And if it reached a populated area, they could lose homes and people, too.
She frowned. “I guess I never appreciated that before. I mean, I knew what you did, but I never really thought about the lives you save.” She’d focused on the danger, the glamour, the excitement of leaping from planes.
The time he’d spent apart from her.
“You’re a hero,” she admitted.
“Hardly. I just do my job.”
“You do far more than that. You’re amazing.” Their gazes locked. The seconds stretched. And she wondered if she’d really known him back then, ever seen beyond her own needs to the essence of this man.
And that bothered her. She’d come here to let go of the past, not to see Cade in a better light.
Or to find out she’d been wrong.
“We’d better go,” he said.
“All right.” Still unsettled, she followed him back to the Jeep and started the engine. He slid in the passenger side and closed the door.
“How far until we meet up with that Forest Service road?” she asked.
“Hold on. I’ll check the map.” He turned on the dome light and reached toward the backseat, then stopped.
The pallor of his face caught her attention. “I’ve got it.” She grabbed the map and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” He spread it awkwardly over his lap. After a moment, he lifted his head. “We should get to a river pretty quick. Once we cross that, we’ve got about twenty miles to go.”
“Twenty miles? Just to reach a dirt road?” Her jaw sagged. This trip could take all night. And she couldn’t imagine driving this trail in full darkness. “But what about your shoulder?”
“It’s fine. I’m guessing my collarbone’s cracked, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” She gaped at him. “Are you joking? You must be in terrible pain.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Right.” She didn’t believe that for a second. “Is there something we can do?”
“We can rig a sling up later, when we’re farther away from the fire. I don’t want to take the time right now.”
“All right,” she said, still stunned. She knew they didn’t have the luxury of stopping, at least not yet. “But let me know when you want to do it.” She put the Jeep into gear and released the brake.
A quarter mile later, they crossed the ridge top and started down the opposite side. They descended slowly, working their way haltingly down the rutted road, every sway and jostle of the Jeep bringing their shoulders dangerously closer. Jordan focused on the path the headlights cut through the dusk, determined to ignore her nearness to Cade.
The smell of the fire finally faded, replaced by the strong smell of pine. She braved a glance at Cade. He’d fallen asleep, thank God. At least now he could escape the pain that injury must cause. And she could stop pretending he didn’t affect her.
She let her gaze linger on his handsome face, on the hard, familiar planes of his cheekbones, the stubbled line of his jaw. The dim light emphasized the shadows under his eyes, his fatigue. He seemed vulnerable suddenly, exhausted, and she felt a reluctant surge of sympathy.
He’d always come home from fires worn out. He’d shower, wolf down more food than she’d thought possible and promptly crash into bed. And leave her feeling even lonelier than when he’d been gone.
She forced her gaze back to the road. After seeing that fire, she had to admit he had a right to be tired. She could only imagine the strength his job demanded.
Pensive now, she continued picking her way down the mountain. Soon she heard a low rushing sound over the noise of the motor. It grew steadily louder, and her hopes rose. They’d made it to the river. Now just twenty more miles until they reached a normal dirt road.
But then the headlights flashed on a barrier blocking their path and she quickly slammed on the brakes.
“What’s wrong?” Cade asked, his voice rough with sleep.
She peered through the windshield at the metal pole. What on earth? “The road’s closed.”
He dragged a hand over his eyes and straightened. “I’ll check it out.”
“I’ll come with you.” Her anxiety rising, she pushed open her door. Why would anyone block off this old trail? Unless…
She hurried around the front of the Jeep. The sound of rushing water filled her ears. The Jeep’s headlights shone past the barrier to the dark, swirling water below, and her breath jammed in her throat.
Someone had put up that pole for good reason. The bridge was gone.

Chapter 4
Cade strode around the roadblock and peered down at the river snaking through the rock-strewn valley. Months of drought had shrunk it back from its broad banks, exposing rocks and stranded deadfall. But even now, in this weakened state, it wouldn’t be easy to cross.
“I can’t believe this,” Jordan said from beside him. “Why would anyone take out the bridge?”
Her voice floated to him in the dim light, and the low, throaty sound tightened his nerves. He forced himself to ignore that temptation and concentrate on the problem at hand. “The mining company probably built it. They wouldn’t want to maintain it after they shut down. And nobody uses this road.”
“Except for us.”
“Yeah.” Which was their bad luck, but he hadn’t expected the trail to be problem-free. In fact, he was surprised they’d made it this far.
Jordan crossed her arms. “So now what? Should we turn around?”
He started to shake his head, but the stabbing pain stopped him cold. “Too dangerous. We need to keep going in case the fire turns.”
“You think there’s another bridge?”
“No, we’ll just have to cross without one. The bank isn’t steep,” he added. “The Jeep can make it down.”
Her eyes widened, and even in the low light he could see her alarm. “But what about the water? How do we get through that?”
He kept his gaze steady on hers, hoping she wouldn’t panic. “I’m guessing it’s pretty shallow with the drought we’ve had. But we won’t know for sure until we’re in it.”
Her hand rose to her throat. He wished he could spare her this. He worked with danger and risked his life every day. But she’d always been more vulnerable, in need of protection. Or so he’d thought.
“If you want, we can leave the Jeep here and wade across,” he said slowly. “I can come back later and pick it up.”
“But then we’d have to hike to that road. And what if the fire turns? Wouldn’t it be better if we had the Jeep?”
“Maybe.” Depending on the path the fire took.
She turned toward the river again. The Jeep’s high beams reflected off the thrashing water. The scent of moisture permeated the air. “I guess we’d better drive it across,” she finally said. “But shouldn’t we wait until morning?”
“More light won’t help that much.” The real danger lay under the water, with river rocks and mud. “And the way that front is moving, I’d rather cross tonight, at least get a firebreak between us and the fire.” Even then, sparks could blow across, but he didn’t mention that. She already looked anxious enough.
Her long sigh cut through the dusk. “All right, but you’d better drive. This is totally out of my league.”
If only he could. He tried to lift his right arm, but sharp pain blazed through his shoulder, a deep, dizzying spasm that burned from his neck to his ribs. Hell. His damned arm was practically useless.
He clenched his jaw and sucked in his breath, willing the ache to subside. He’d always been the strong one, the man who took all the risks. Sure, he relied on his smokejumping bros, but that was part of the job.
But this weakness, this damned dependency…
His stomach balled, and something close to panic rocked his nerves. It was only temporary, for God’s sake. He wasn’t a permanent ground-pounder. He’d be back on the jump list in no time.
But it was still damned hard to admit. He forced his fist to uncurl. “You’ll have to do it. I can’t shift with my shoulder this bad.”
The rushing water filled the stark silence. He felt Jordan’s gaze on him, and his pulse slugged hard through his head, as if he’d just run the PT test. God, he hated being weak.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll try.”
He flicked his gaze to hers, but didn’t see condemnation. The knot slowly eased in his gut.
But then, she’d always had that effect on him. She’d been his oasis, his refuge, offering him the comfort and solace he’d craved.
“Do you want to make that sling now?” she asked.
“Later, after we cross the river. We can take a break on the other side.”
Her eyes searched his. Her delicate brows wrinkled with worry, not for her own safety, but for his. His resentment slipped another notch.
And suddenly, he wanted to move closer, to feel that gentle warmth. To bask in her approval, her acceptance. Her love.
And that was as dangerous as the fire. He couldn’t let down his defenses. This woman had the power to destroy him, just as she’d done before.
He’d barely survived it the first time. He’d spent months enraged, so bitter he could barely sleep. Always doubting, forever questioning, wondering what on earth he’d done wrong. And he’d be damned if he’d suffer through that hell again.
He yanked his mind to the river and stepped back. “We’d better go.” Without waiting for her to answer, he circled the roadblock and strode to the back of the Jeep. Once there, he popped the rear window, picked up the nylon rope and tossed it on top of his PG bag.
A few seconds later, Jordan joined him. And despite his resolve, her soft, feminine scent invaded his space and heightened his senses. Annoyed by his reaction, he stepped away. “You’d better put a bag together,” he told her. “In case we have to bail out midstream.”
He heard her suck in her breath. He didn’t want to scare her, but they had to prepare. “I doubt you’ll need it,” he added.
“I know.” But her hands trembled as she dumped out an athletic bag full of toiletries. She pulled a blanket and clothes from various bags, along with food from the cooler and a plastic bowl. “For the dog,” she explained.
She zipped the bag closed and dropped it on the backseat. The dog raised his head and whined.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “We’re not going to leave you here.”
She meant that, Cade knew. She would risk her own life before she abandoned that dog. Of course, he’d once thought she was that committed to him.
Shoving aside a rush of resentment, he closed the rear window, walked back to the passenger door and climbed in. Pain bolted down his shoulder with the movement. He panted quietly, sucking in fast, shallow breaths until the spasm passed, knowing this wasn’t the time to be weak.
Jordan slid into the driver’s seat and closed her door. She latched her seat belt, and her uncertain gaze met his.
“Ready?” he managed as the pain edged back to an ache.
“I guess so.” Her gaze moved over his chest. “Do you want me to help with your seat belt?”
“No.” He’d rather suffer than have her that close.
“This could get bumpy.”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just go.”
“If you say so.” Looking doubtful, she shoved the Jeep into gear, tightened her grip on the wheel and backed up.
“Try going down by that tree.” He pointed to an alder tree still visible on the bank downstream.
“All right.”
He gritted his teeth as the Jeep bumped over the rocky ground to the bank, which sloped gradually down to the river. The moon hadn’t risen yet, but the headlights cut through the mounting darkness. The water gleamed as it floated past.
Jordan stopped and adjusted her hands on the wheel. Her knuckles shone in the dashboard’s light and she inhaled sharply. “Here goes.”
The Jeep tipped, and she quickly slammed on the brakes, throwing him forward. “I’m sorry!” she gasped as he hit the dashboard.
Pain stabbed his shoulder, and nausea flooded his gut. Stifling a groan, he shoved himself back in his seat. “Keep going.”
She edged up her foot and they rushed ahead, bumped over a rock, then stopped. Feeling dazed, he sucked in his breath. “You’re doing great,” he ground out.
She slanted him a skeptical glance. “Sure, as long as you don’t mind getting whiplash.”
They sped forward again, dropped into a pothole, tipped to the side and jolted out. Struggling for balance, Cade braced his boot against the dashboard.
The Jeep lurched over another rock and stopped abruptly, ramming his knee to his chest. A spasm racked his shoulder and he fought down another groan. Forget whiplash. If she kept this up, he’d pass out before they reached the bottom.
But a few feet later, the bank mercifully flattened, and she let up on the brakes. The Jeep bounced down to the riverbed then stopped with a sudden jerk.
They both exhaled. A second later, her gaze met his. “Stage one. Now to get us through that water.”
Cade’s mouth curved up, and he felt a glimmer of pride, much like he did for his rookies. Despite her inexperience and fear, she’d pulled through.
“Any special route I should take?” she asked.
He turned his attention back to the river. The headlights lit the swirling current but the water beyond that was nearly black. “Not that I can tell. Get closer and we’ll see how it looks.”
“All right.” Small stones and branches crunched under the tires as she drove forward. The Jeep jostled over the uneven ground, but didn’t slip. When they reached the water, she braked.
He peered through the windshield. The water trickled harmlessly along the river’s edges, skirting rocks and splitting into shallow side streams. But yards of dark, unbroken water stretched across the center.
“You think we can cross it?” she asked, her voice tight.
“We’ll find out soon enough.” His gaze met hers and he saw the anxiety crowding her eyes. “Hey.” He lifted his hand to touch her, to stroke away the worry and soothe the rapid drum of her pulse. Then he stopped. She wasn’t his to touch anymore.
He dropped his hand to his knee. “You’ll do fine.”
“Right.” She managed a strained smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and flicked her gaze back to the river. Then she sat up straighter, eased out the clutch and drove in.
Cade stuck his head out the window to watch. The water barely moistened the hubcaps. “It’s just a few inches deep.”
“Should I go faster?”
“No, this is good.”
The Jeep rolled steadily forward, swaying and bumping over rocks. The smell of water spread through the cooling night air. He glanced at Jordan and saw that she’d glued both hands to the wheel. “You’re doing great.”
“I don’t know.” She nibbled her lip. “I wish we didn’t have so far to go.”
“We’ll get through it.”
She shot him a quick glance. “You think so? It looks like it’s getting deeper.”
“Yeah.” Ignoring his throbbing shoulder, he leaned out the window again. The water had inched to the top of the hubcaps. “But we’re still okay.” At least they hadn’t sunk into mud.
They drove further into the river, and the water continued to rise. The Jeep tipped on a rock, and she righted it with a splash.
“Cade…”
“I know.” He frowned at the water creeping toward the axle, then shifted his gaze to the shore. Hell. They weren’t going to make it after all.
Resigned, he pulled his head back inside. “Okay, we’d better turn ar—”
A metallic screech rent the air, and the Jeep abruptly stopped. Oh, hell.
“What happened?” Jordan asked, her voice high. “What did we hit?”
“A rock, probably.” Under the water where they couldn’t see it.
“Oh, God.”
He kept his tone calm. “It’s all right. Let’s try backing up and see if we can dislodge it.”
She shoved the gearshift into Reverse and pressed on the gas. The tires spun, but the Jeep didn’t move. She stopped, inhaled sharply, then tried again.
“Not too fast.” He hung his head out the window as water streamed up the door. “Okay, a little harder.”
She hit the gas and the engine’s fan came on. “Not too much,” he cautioned. She slowed, but then the engine sputtered and missed. “Stop!” He jerked his head back inside.
“What’s wrong?” Jordan asked. The Jeep vibrated roughly, coughing and stumbling badly.
“Water probably got into the engine.”
“Water? But how do we—”
The vehicle bucked, jolting them forward, then died.
The river’s rush filled the sudden silence. Water splashed past in the light of the Jeep’s high beams. “Try to start it,” he said.
She cranked the engine. It churned and whined in the silence. She turned it off and tried again.
“You might as well stop,” he finally said when it didn’t catch. “We’ll have to let it dry out.”
“How long will that take?”
“Hard to say. A few hours maybe.”
“A few hours!” Her gaze flew to his. “But we can’t just sit here and wait.”
“No.” He kept his gaze steady on hers. “We need to keep going. We’ll come back later and tow the Jeep.”
She bit her lip as that shock registered, and tension tightened her elegant jaw. But after several long seconds, she nodded. “So how do you want to do this?”
His respect for her rose. She was a fighter; he’d give her that much. Despite the setback, she didn’t balk.
He returned his gaze to the river. “We can use the rope. We’ll tie it off to the bumper.”
“You think it’s that deep?”
“Probably not, but the rocks could be slick. We’ll hold on to it for balance.”
“What about the dog?”
“He can swim.”
“But what if he goes the wrong way? He might head back toward the fire.”
He frowned back at the dog huddled behind his seat. The dog’s worried gaze lifted to his. “I’ve still got that beef jerky in my bag. Won’t he follow the smell of that?”
“Not if he’s scared.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “I can carry him across first, then come back and help with the bags.”
The muscles along his jaw flexed. He wasn’t that damn helpless. “I’ll carry the bags. And if you’re that worried about the dog, tie him to the other end of the rope. Then you can pull him along.”
“That’s a great idea.” Her lips curved, and her blatant approval blocked the air in his lungs.
And without warning, the old dizziness seeped through his brain. That heady, off-kilter feeling that made him want to promise the moon. To do anything to feel her admiration, her respect.
Jordan grabbed her bag from the backseat and stuffed her purse inside. Then she propped it between the seats and picked up the rope. “Are you going to take off your boots?”
Still feeling light-headed, he pulled his attention back to the problem at hand. “No, the rocks could be sharp.”
“Then I’ll keep my tennis shoes on.” She handed him the rope, then pushed her seat farther back. Rising to one knee, she bent and lifted the dog. “You really do stink,” she said as she slid with him into her seat. She kissed the top of his head and rubbed his ears. “But we’re still not going to leave you.”
She shot Cade a grin. “At least he’ll get a bath out of this.”
Impressed that she could joke under pressure, he shook his head. She was a trooper, all right. And that lethal combination of feminine warmth and grit made her hard to resist.
“Tie this to his collar.” He handed her the end of the rope. “We’ll hook the other end to the bumper and hold on to that.”
“Got it.” She threaded the rope under the dog’s collar and secured the knot. Then she took a deep breath to gather her courage and pushed on her door. It didn’t budge, so she shoved again, hard.

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