Chapter Fourteen #2
“Nora? Is Tyler with you?” Remarkably, her mother’s voice saved her from further explanation.
Nora looked across the bed. In the light that spilled in from the hallway, she saw that time had taken a similar toll on her mother.
Her eyes looked sunken and her lined cheeks were hollow.
Her hair appeared to have thinned from the fullness Nora remembered.
“Yes, Mother. We’re both here now.”
“Well, go to bed. It’s late.”
They mumbled their good nights and left the dark room.
The next day was a strange combination of uncomfortable and nostalgic. Nora texted Tyler as usual, and they met in the kitchen where a strange woman was drinking coffee.
“Who are you?” Tyler blurted.
Before the woman could answer, their mother joined them. “Tyler, this is your cousin, Anita. You were a baby the last time she visited. Nora, I think you were five then, do you remember?” When Nora shook her head, her mother said, “Well, anyway, she’s here to help me with your father.”
Anita looked to be ten or fifteen years younger than their mother, with dark lustrous hair and only a few wrinkles, compared to their mother’s simple gray hairstyle and deeply lined face.
Nora’s curiosity was piqued by the way her mother looked perkier and sounded much less anxious than usual.
Hoping to spend a little more time with Anita, Nora offered to lend a hand with the cooking, causing Tyler to give her a disbelieving look.
“No, this is your vacation,” Anita said, speaking with a hint of a Spanish accent. “You’ll want to spend time with your family.”
After their father was up and in his chair, they passed the afternoon talking about her older brothers’ latest experiences on the fire line. During a pause, Nora began telling everyone how well Tyler was doing.
“Where’s your friend?”
Her father’s interruption annoyed her, but more than that, it worried her that he’d already asked. At least this time, she knew who he meant. “We lost touch a few years ago,” she said tightly.
“Shame. She was good people.”
Rudy looked at her with a quizzical expression, but once their father turned aside, she simply rolled her eyes. “I’m going for a walk. Anyone want to come?”
Tyler jumped up. Art and Rudy declined. Nora got her camera, and they followed the familiar path into the woods beyond the Palmer property. Neither spoke until they got to the old stump where they’d always sat to talk. It was almost entirely decayed, leaving only a few chunks of rotting wood.
Nora stared at it. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Tyler gave a half-smile. “I was about to say that to you.”
She took a deep breath. “God, I’d forgotten how the air here smells like trees.”
“Nothing like our dry desert, right? Do you miss it?”
Do I? Nora wondered, offering a vague tilt of her head in reply.
Despite making her pensive now, a Colorado forest still felt like home in a way Tucson never had.
When they were almost back, she took a quick shot of Tyler walking toward their family farmhouse, both bathed in the golden light of sunset.
It was her only photo of the day, and one of the best she’d taken in weeks.
“I’m going to get some group shots before we go home,” she said, thinking how neither of them had any such photographs in their town house.
Tyler grinned. “I think that’s a great idea.”
* * *
Everyone was nicely dressed, and the men had shaved.
To her surprise, they posed perfectly, smiling enough to make it believable.
The image was boring by Nora’s standards, but it was exactly the family photo they’d all appreciate.
She wouldn’t wait for a holiday or someone’s birthday; she’d get prints made and send each person their own framed copy when she got back to Tucson.
She’d also gotten candid shots the night before when they’d sung “Happy Birthday” as her father’s candlelit cake was carried out.
The images of Art wolfing down a huge slice, of her mother kissing her father’s head, and Rudy with his arms around both their parents could be sent to the updated email addresses they’d exchanged.
After hauling her gear to the car, along with her suitcase, Nora snapped one more picture as their mother hugged Tyler.
It was inelegant but better than the brief shoulder pat she’d gotten.
Their father was standing with Art and Rudy, gesturing in a jerky fashion, when both brothers suddenly reached for their phones and stepped away to read a text.
They exchanged glances and a few brief words before running into the house. Nora rushed after them.
“What’s up?” she asked Rudy, who was throwing clothes into his bag.
“A neighborhood burn has broken containment near Kamberto. Art and I are both on standby. We’ve got to get back.”
Nora blinked, recalling the pleasant mountain town where the Firecamp crew had taken showers and done laundry all those years ago. Outside the bar was where Fallon had…
Before she could finish that thought, her phone rang. Recognizing the readout, she answered.
“Are you still in Colorado?” Abel Griffin, her new boss, barked. He wasn’t actually “new” anymore, but it still felt like it. “At some family thing, right?”
“Yes,” Nora confirmed. “And a controlled burn has broken containment in a neighborhood a few hundred miles from here.”
“How do you already know that? It just came over the wire.”
There was no wire anymore, but everyone still used that terminology, even when referring to digital updates.
It hurt to think how Collin would have remembered about Art and Rudy.
He’d taken the time to know his people, and he’d genuinely cared about their lives.
She’d learned far more than the ins and outs of photojournalism from him.
He’d been the one who’d helped her let go of some residual anger from her early years, teaching her that when she risked caring about her subject, she got better photos.
“My brothers are both firefighters. They got an alert.”
“Huh, okay. Well, can you get over there today? The locals are busy evacuating, and someone is already covering that. We need a good angle of action that we can sell there and maybe nationally. Not the same smoke and flame and exhausted firefighters. Something new.”
Nora opened her mouth and closed it again. Abel was a schmuck, but that didn’t mean she would pass on shooting the story. “Yeah. Give me a few hours, and I’ll get back to you with something.”
“Make it good.”
Fortunately, he hung up before she could say “Oh, are you sure you don’t want something shitty?”
Tyler stood near the car. “Are you going to the fire too?”
“I need to, yeah. Do you mind staying here a few more days? I’ll come get you as soon as—”
“No way.” He broke in. “I’m coming with you. I can get releases signed or take notes on whatever you want the story to be. Or I can help with your gear, your lenses and stuff. But I’m coming.”
Nora gave it about two seconds’ thought before nodding. “Let’s go.”
It felt weird driving the same route she’d taken with Tyler and her father all those years ago.
But this time, she wasn’t distracted by the scenery or daydreams about her future.
She did think about Firecamp, though, and speculating if a Women’s Plus Crew might be involved in mitigation for the Kamberto blaze.
If so, could she shoot that story? She lost count of how many times she’d forced her thoughts from wondering if Fallon might still be there, anticipating disappointment if she wasn’t and apprehension if she was.
Either way, she’d have to face those feelings.
After parking, she took a moment to look over the base.
It seemed basically the same, although there were two new buildings in the latter stages of construction.
Nora handed Tyler her bag, keeping her camera around her neck.
As they crossed the grounds, activity intensified.
Several men wearing full wildland firefighting gear ran past them and jumped into a van that kicked up dust as it pulled away.
Numerous personnel were gathering and distributing equipment while shouts and occasional curses filled the air.
Approaching the building where Ranger Upshaw’s office had been, she and Tyler slowed at the sound of yelling that exploded through the open door.
“Maris had strict instructions to tell those fatheads not to burn. The forecast was for increasing wind—”
“Yes, sir.” Another voice, quieter but no less certain. “Maris knew that, and I’m sure she made your instructions clear.”
At the elation of a memory, Nora’s breath caught. Fallon.
“Apparently, not goddamn clear enough. Now it’s our fucking problem. Get your crew assembled and report here in thirty minutes. We’ll go over the map then.”
A door slammed inside, and a blond woman Nora hadn’t seen before came around the far side of the building where she’d apparently been listening.
She hurried to the front screen and intercepted Fallon as she exited.
Seeing Fallon, Nora’s heartbeat quickened, but she bit back the greeting that had risen to her lips as the blonde stepped into Fallon’s open arms.
“God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I told them, I swear I did.” The blonde’s voice broke, and she melted into sobs. “I told them,” she repeated. Fallon held her quietly.
Years of sharpening her instincts for a good photo op overtook every other emotion, and Nora stepped to the side.
Framing the pair in profile, she took three quick shots.
Both women turned in her direction at the sound of the shutter clicking, and the crying blonde stepped away, scrubbing at her face.
Fallon focused on Nora, emotions ranging from resentment to shock to hurt flashing in those unforgettable sky-blue eyes.
“Hello, Falcon,” Nora said softly.