Chapter 17
My brother Zach told me once that he’d rather fight one hundred structure fires than to fight a wildfire, because with a structure fire, you know where your flames are at. But with a wildfire, it can sneak right up behind you.
I don’t know if it’s my own overinflated ego at having done this for nearly twenty years, but fuck that. I’d rather be out in a wildfire any day than be stuck in a burning building. I did that for years before moving out to Sky Ridge to join my dad’s hotshot crew, and though firefighting is where my heart has always been, structure fires make me twitchy.
From my lookout, I know exactly where my crew is at, even though I can’t physically see them. They’re split right now, each squad working their line. King is our lead sawyer and newly instated squaddie, so he has his team up the ridge cutting deadwood and pulling snags out of the line. Cal has the other half of the team down about a quarter mile digging the fire line out. We were fortunate enough to get a dozer hauled in for this fire, but most of the time, the lines are dug completely by hand. It’s backbreaking and labor intensive, and our days on fires start around four am. We’re mandated to break at sixteen hours, but sometimes, I have to force my crew to stop to eat and sleep.
As superintendent, I have to have my head on a constant swivel; I’m watching wind shifts and updrafts from the head of the blaze that’s getting far too close to several homes for comfort. The guys have this weird superstition that I can control the weather and make it do what I want… but I’m just really fucking good at reading it. Or maybe I’ve just been lucky as shit for most of my career. The weather plays such a pivotal role in fighting fires. If the wind changes direction and starts blowing embers into the green—the section of forests not touched by the fire—it leads to spot fires, and those can lead to crews being boxed in, or start a free burn too close to residential areas. There was a finger that snaked out a few days ago on the west flank. Mack’s old crew from Colorado was able to circumvent it before it got out of hand. He’s retired now and they’re under a new Superintendent, but he seems to be damn good at his job.
King and his squad had nearly been boxed in on a ridge the first day we were here, but quick thinking on King’s part had gotten them all out. I’m proud as fuck, he’s earned this squaddie position, and this fire has just cemented that my decision was the right one. I split my time between scouting and helping out wherever I’m needed, but I couldn’t do my job without knowing I can trust my captain and squad leaders to do their jobs. I’m fortunate to have a fantastic team beneath me.
Cal and his squad have been burning out along a two-mile-long line that will box the fire in on itself after a spot of slop over occurred, where the fire pushed past the containment line we’d already constructed. With the back burn eating up as much of the fire’s fuel as possible to head it off, by the time the head of the blaze meets the back burn, there won’t be much green left for it to consume unless it throws hotspots half a mile away.
Fuck, this fire has been a beast from start to finish .
And fuck me, but all I can think about is Teddy. Even though my focus is on this fire, she’s been right there, too.
I’m forty-two, almost forty-three, and not once in my adult life have I ever been so obsessed over a woman as I am with her.
I blame Violette for telling me Teddy isn’t interested in dating. Because now, all I want is for her to be interested. Teddy has always been completely unobtainable, and strictly off limits; I knew that when I met her. I respected her marriage. But now…
Fuck. Now, she’s slightly less unobtainable and not as strictly off limits as before… and I’ve never stopped wanting this woman.
I’ve jacked off too many times to the memory of her body on display that morning we’d headed out for this fire. It’s been almost two weeks and I’ve never wanted to get home more urgently than I do now. Her laugh, her smile, fuck, her everything, is what’s getting me through each day.
She’s home alone with all three kids. I should have set up something, sent someone to check on her while I’m gone. I wonder if Violette has seen her, checked on her. I’m sure Scottie has checked in. Cell service out here is shotty at best, so it’s not like we’ve been able to talk.
And trust me, I’ve checked. Numerous times. Not one call or text from her. Fuck, I hope she’s doing alright.
By the end of the day, my team—alongside the other divisions and agencies transported in to help on this fire—have it controlled.
As I make my way back down the ridge to the spike camp we’ve been living out of for the last two weeks, my team is back. It’s nearly dark already, and some of my crew are already passed out in their sacks, others chowing down on food. Everyone is dirty, sweaty, exhausted, and starving. Most of these guys will burn more calories than they’ll consume out here.
King is down the trail about fifty feet, phone to his ear. He talks for just a few minutes before he hangs up, then rejoins us. “ How’s Violette?” I call over. He grins, and I realize too late that I’ve fucked up.
“She’s great. She says to tell you Teddy and the kids are fine, too.”
Motherfucker.
Several of the guys turn their attention to us, some calling out razzing questions. King’s grin just gets wider as he sinks onto an overturned log made into a bench. I hate the lot of them.
“Sup, you got a lady and kids we don’t know about?”
“None of your business,” I call out on a grumble.
“Like, Cal’s sister, Teddy?” Opp asks around a bite of his food. Cal rests his elbows on his knees, nodding, though his eyes don’t leave my face. Dammit.
Royce, our newest rookie, pipes up, sitting straighter in his seat as he calls, “Wait, Cal’s sister, the woman that lives next door? The one you helped—” he stops, pantomiming delivering a baby, and I glare over at the rookie.
Opp thumps the kid on the back and mutters, “You’re gonna want to stop talking right there, Roycie. He goes into papa bear mode when you talk about that.”
“Yeah, remember what happened with Morey?” King laughs, shaking his head as he digs into his food.
My jaw clenches and rage fills me all over again at the memory of what one of my douchebag crew members had muttered about Teddy’s anatomy. First, his offhand comment about being licensed to lift her skirt had made me see red . Then, later after several drinks he’d asked whether she’d offered up anything in ‘thanks’ for my services. Now, I’ve never been one to fight, but damn, I’d been seconds away from beating that guy to a pulp. If Opp hadn’t gotten me into a barrel hold, I’d have knocked the fucker’s front teeth out. I’m glad Cal hadn’t been around to hear it, I’m not sure we’d have stopped him from beating the guy’s face in .
The trash had transferred to a crew in Arizona not long after. Good riddance.
“Oh, right,” Royce says, glancing over at me a little warily. Kid’s got heart, if a little wet behind the ears still. King has really taken him under his wing. I think the kid reminds him of Jake, his best friend that we lost on a fire their first season. “I’d have done the same thing if anyone talked about someone I cared about like that, too, Sup. I’m sure Cal appreciates it, too.”
I stay silent, and out of the corner of my eye I can see both King and Cal grinning like idiots. I can’t hide much from them, not that I really ever hide anything from them at all. Cal’s been my best friend for years, which makes this so much worse, and King is like my younger brother, but a whole lot less annoying than Joel is. Well, most of the time, anyway. Right now, I’d like to tip him backwards over that log he’s sitting on.
My com crackles and then the voice of the lead commanding officer comes over the static. “Good job today, boys. Looks like this fire is cooked. You’re all set to head home.”
“Copy that,” I respond, clicking off the com. “Looks like we’re heading home, boys. Congratulations on another successful fire.”
There are whoops of excitement through the spike camp at my announcement and a shuffle of activity as they all start breaking down camp. We’ll head over to the nearest tarmac and load up onto a shitty little plane that will haul us and our gear back north. And then an hour drive to Sky Ridge. But we should be home by morning.