Chapter One #2
Making her way to the front, Nora took a few seconds to appreciate the woman’s shapely backside swaying slightly as she pointed out something in the engine.
The movement evoked a lovely memory of slow dancing with Addison Bassel at their senior prom, and her stomach clenched as she recalled the rest of their incredible night together.
Her father had been displeased to learn she was going to the dance with three other girls.
He would have been apoplectic if he’d known they were two couples, but he’d seemed clueless.
Even now, she doubted he’d noticed she’d joined the Women’s Plus Crew at Firecamp, not that she was looking for any other distractions.
It would simply be a nice break from her testosterone-filled home, and not spending the summer dodging advances from male participants or proving she didn’t need balls to cut down a tree were definite benefits as well.
Before she could say anything, her father laughed and slapped the woman playfully on the back.
Nora tightened her lips in frustration. He hadn’t been that affable with her in years.
“Excuse me.” She made her voice as cool as possible.
“But if you want gas in this antique, you’ll have to tell me where the tank is hidden. ”
Her father turned with a scowl as the woman straightened so quickly, she almost hit her head on the hood.
“Oops, sorry. Here, let me—” She reached out as if to take the gas can before noticing Nora wasn’t holding it.
“I don’t need you to do it,” Nora said, hands on her hips. “Just tell me where it goes.” She softened as the woman’s face fell, and she fidgeted uneasily. “Or show me, maybe?”
“Oh, sure.”
They returned to the gas can, and the woman picked it up.
Nora stifled her protest. She liked taking charge, and being a champion for someone shy with pretty eyes was surprisingly appealing.
But that wasn’t why she was here, and it wasn’t her car, so she simply kept pace as they walked toward the trunk.
They were about the same height. At least Nora wouldn’t be the only tall one at Firecamp.
She’d had a growth spurt the summer before high school, and after adding an inch or two prior to graduation, she now stood at just under five-nine.
Life with two older brothers had taught her agility and coordination, but she’d quickly tired of fending off questions about playing basketball. Her interests were strictly artistic.
When the woman stopped, their eyes met, and neither moved. Was that a flicker of attraction? Nora reached for the can as the woman lifted it.
“Did you want to—” she began, deliberately letting their fingers touch. The container slipped from the woman’s grasp, and Nora caught it before it hit the ground.
“Sorry. I’ve always been kinda clumsy,” the woman said, hiking up the waistband of her jeans as she focused on the ground.
Clumsy? Jumpy seems more like it. But she didn’t act that way earlier. “It’s fine,” Nora said, feeling the need to put her at ease. But why the sudden weirdness? Did that simple touch upset her, or was she interested? Tyler joined them, and Nora’s mind returned to the business at hand.
The woman bent and pulled down the license plate, revealing an old screw-off cap. “Ta da,” she announced, making Tyler laugh. As Nora began emptying the can, the woman took in a breath. “I can’t thank you folks enough for helping me out,” she said softly. “My name’s Fallon, by the way.”
“Fallon? That’s a cool name,” Tyler said, speaking Nora’s thoughts as he often did. He shook her hand. “I’m Tyler.”
“Thanks. I like your name, Tyler. And Nora is nice too. The name, I mean.” Fallon’s cheeks reddened. “And the person, I’m sure.”
“Oh, she is. She’s the best sister ever.”
“I’m your only sister.” She nudged his shoulder affectionately.
“Do you have any siblings, Fallon?”
Nora cringed at the personal nature of Tyler’s question. He meant well, but he could be relentlessly inquisitive.
Fallon shook her head. “Nope, none.”
As Nora was preparing to redirect the conversation, her father yelled, “Don’t empty all the gas, Nora. We’ll need some to prime the carburetor.”
Deliberately waiting a few beats, she finally pulled the can away from the tank and handed it to Tyler. “You heard His Majesty. Get this to him before it’s off with our heads.”
Tyler giggled before making his way to the front of the car.
Fallon shuffled her feet, tugging at her threadbare T-shirt. “Listen, I’m sorry if I’ve caused a problem. I was really anxious about getting to Firecamp on time, and I thought I could make it with the gas I had.”
Her gaze still on Tyler, Nora shook her head. “It’s nothing you’ve done. You know that old saying about oil and water? That’s my father and me. Both our lives will be better when we’re as far apart as possible. Or farther.”
“I’ve read that it can be hard for parents to adjust when their children reach adulthood. Maybe it’s as tough for grown children to understand their parents as people.” Fallon swallowed before continuing. “But family is something to cherish.”
Nora shot her a glare. “Cherish? Not likely. Our relationship consists of equal parts antagonism and argument.”
“Is that really true? Your father is—” Fallon broke off at the cough of an engine. A belch of blue smoke rose into the air.
“Looks like you’ll be on your way.” Nora heard the sharpness in her tone, and at Fallon’s rueful expression, she forced a smile, adding, “I’ll see you there, okay?”
Fallon nodded, then made her way to where Nora’s father stood with his arms crossed, a smug look on his face. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a few bills and some coins, her manner relaxing after he waved away the offering.
Tyler hopped around them, his face glowing.
Nora caught only the last of his joyful boast about how he’d started the car all by himself as she returned to her seat in the Jeep.
She watched as her father gestured toward her, and Fallon refocused in her direction.
She couldn’t hear but could easily predict what her father was saying: Nora and I have a wager that she won’t make the full hitch at Firecamp.
You make sure she calls us when she’s ready to quit, okay?
She found herself hoping that Fallon would believe she would win the bet.
It would be nice to have someone other than Tyler on her side.
When Fallon looked back at her father and nodded, Nora turned away, the familiar combination of hurt and anger rising inside.
It didn’t matter what some stranger thought.
After finishing Firecamp, she’d collect her tuition and be Arizona-bound.
It wasn’t like this Fallon person had anything she needed or wanted.
And she certainly wasn’t going to confide in someone who fawned over her father as if he was the second coming, even if she was struggling at Firecamp.
She knew better than to let anyone get that close.
* * *
When Fallon’s 1987 Cadillac had sputtered and coughed to a stop only a few miles from Firecamp, she’d been prepared to walk the rest of the way.
She’d let her cell service go when money had run short, and hitchhiking had always seemed risky, though she had nothing but sympathy for those who did, especially women.
On her trek across Colorado, she’d picked up two other women who’d needed a lift before that last kindness had almost cost her everything she’d planned and worked for.
Fallon’s heart had shattered after she’d opened the coffee can where she’d kept her savings and found it empty.
Evie had left her with nothing but a wave—and a new conviction that she needed to be less trusting of strangers—after she’d hopped into the cab of an eighteen-wheeler at the truck stop where they’d grabbed a sandwich.
So she’d been wary when the Jeep had pulled in alongside her car.
Managing a cautious greeting when a man had appeared from the driver’s side, she’d maintained her distance until she’d seen he was traveling with a boy and a young woman.
Thankfully, Mr. Palmer had been pleasant and generous.
She hoped it was a sign of things to come.
Back on the road now, she watched carefully until she spotted the small wooden Firecamp sign referred to in the directions she’d received.
She took a shaky breath as she braked, relieved at reaching the end of her long trip.
Those who talked about the journey being more important than the destination hadn’t lived her life.
She pulled herself together, slowing as she approached, eager for her first glimpse of the camp.
Numerous log buildings were nestled in a large clearing. People milled around them, some in groups, others carrying various tools or containers and striding purposefully across the grounds. A few heads turned at the sight of her car, which made her smile.
When the Palmers parked near her, Fallon’s nerves settled further.
At least she’d already met one person, though she was still having trouble reconciling the generosity of her rescuer with the mercurial behavior of his daughter.
Mr. Palmer had given her close to five gallons of gas and declined her pitiful offer of payment, while Nora had an appealing self-assurance when she wasn’t acting like her dad was a candidate for Worst Father Ever.
Whatever the cause of her hard-hearted tone when referencing him, Nora at least stood up for herself. Fallon had never been good at that.
And while she had no business offering advice about a father-daughter relationship—her own being so far back in her childhood she barely remembered it—Fallon had learned to deal with men like Jeffrey Palmer from all the years she’d hung around diners while her mother waited tables.
Most of them were decent, hardworking types who responded best to kindness mingled with a healthy dose of respect.
With that in mind, Fallon ran over to thank Mr. Palmer again.