Chapter 5
Chapter Five
TRAVIS
T he Twin Otter’s engines roar as I sit back, waiting to jump. I’ve checked my gear and my chute, and there’s nothing else for me to do except listen to my older brother Logan laugh until he cries. Fuck this shit.
Of course, it’s my own damn fault for confiding in him. And I know he means well. Hell, if we swapped shoes, I guess I’d have the same reaction. But it doesn’t feel great, considering the bruised heart I’m nursing.
The plane’s shaking rumble forces Logan to scream as he continues to dissect my pathetic love life.
“So, let me get this straight. You really asked her to go for a ride with you under the pretext she had the rest of her life to repent?” He doesn’t wait for me to nod before he starts guffawing again.
I hang my head, staring down at my jumpsuit. I don’t have my gloves or helmet on yet. We’ve got a few minutes to go, but it feels like an eternity.
“Yeah, I fucked up,” I yell in reply. “I get it. I said something stupid, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m over it. ”
Logan has short dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes are brown like mine, and he’s built like me, too.
We work out together, train together, and I’ve always looked up to him. He’s helping me perfect the fine art of skydiving because I may apply as a smokejumper in a couple more years.
I need at least six years of wildland firefighting experience for that, and I’ve only got four under my belt as a Rough & Ready Hotshot.
But even if the smoke jumping thing doesn’t end up happening, I’m addicted to the adrenaline rush of jumping from a plane.
And I enjoy hanging out with my bro when he’s not mocking me.
“I don’t know where I went wrong in your education, but you need better pickup lines, Travis.” He shakes his head, wiping his eyes with the back of his gloved hand. “Shit.”
Logan’s thirty-five, and he’s always had a reputation for being handy with the ladies. Truth be told, he did teach me some of his best pickup lines, and they always worked with the fine ladies of Rough & Ready Country. But Faith is another animal.
Not only does she have a finely tuned bullshit monitor, but she also gets my heart racing so fast, I can’t think straight.
That’s when verifiable shit starts pouring out of my mouth.
I have to agree, though, this latest word salad is stunningly bad.
I’ll never live it down. And I probably wouldn’t care if I didn’t have an acute ache in my chest to accompany it.
“You done laughing yet?” Unlike me, Logan found the girl of his dreams and managed to clinch her.
My hope of doing that with Faith has all but vanished.
I still have her Cougar in my garage, and I can’t bring myself to abandon her at the feed store on delivery days. But apart from that, I’ve checked out.
I can’t take anymore of her mixed signals or the mind fucking they cause me.
Not that I’m blaming her for any of this.
I could be reading her completely wrong at this point.
My perception’s way off because my heart’s tangled up in the middle of this whole mess.
While I know better and see where the problem lies, it’s too late to do anything about it.
“Sorry, bro. It’s just the thought of you saying that to Faith Jenkins. Shit.” He starts laughing again.
If we weren’t airborne, I’d be tempted to put my fist through the wall next to me. As it is, I’m about to soar thousands of feet above the ground. The adrenaline’s pumping, and I blame the momentary violent thought on it.
No matter how often I skydive, the anticipation is always worse than the first leap. We’re dropping out at 13,500 feet, and I’m pulling my cord at three thousand feet. In other words, I’ll be on the ground in less than sixty seconds. And then it’ll be back to listening to Logan’s shit again.
Brothers can be such pains in the ass, and I have fourteen of them, thanks to my foster dad’s overly generous heart and big ranch. And because Dad offered each of us our own ten-acre plot of land on his homestead, there’s no getting away from my family.
I look up as a burst of air enters the cabin, announcing the opening of the plane door. Wolfe sticks his head out, checking our landing spot and giving the thumbs up. He’s spotting today, but it’ll be me next time.
Wolfe’s a year younger than Logan, and he’s been a part of my foster family since he was a freshman in high school. So, even though he’s a lot older than me, he feels like more of a newcomer. On top of it, he signed up for the Army straight out of high school, and he’s reticent as shit.
Built like a tank and one scary-looking motherfucker, he works security to great success. Based on looks alone, no one will cross him. Most of my conversations with Wolfe involve me talking and him grunting .
God knows what he’d have to say about my current predicament. Unlike Logan, he’s a lot more empathetic and would probably just declare me a dumb shit and sit in silence. I’d take that over Logan’s merriment any day.
Skydivers line up, both experienced and guides going tandem with tourists. Filing out into the great blue, they follow Wolfe’s command, “Exit! Exit!”
I pull on both gloves, helmet, and goggles in four efficient moves, and Logan puts his helmet on. Fortunately, the dive flow is a no-plan jam, so I don’t have to put much thought into my exit or break.
I wait my turn before crouching down and diving the door, heading into the deep blue like I’m launching headfirst into a pool. The thrill of racing across the sky like an eagle is unmatched.
My chute snivels for 1,000 feet, making for a super buttery opening.
The wind likes to whip through this valley, so I crab my canopy at an angle against the current, creating a slower downwind flight across the ground.
I usually like things rough and fast, but maybe there’s a part of me putting off seeing Logan’s ugly mug again.
I land on my feet nice and slow. Between the big adrenaline dump and increased dopamine and serotonin, I should feel fucking amazing, like I just conquered the world. Should, but I don’t.
Logan lets out a big “woohoo” as he always does after a jump. People think I’m an adrenaline junkie, but I’ve got nothing on him. Wolfe is a good distance away, quiet as ever. Every move he makes is efficient and methodical, no doubt a reflection of his time as a Ranger.
Numbly, I remove my goggles and helmet before gathering up my canopy, careful not to drag it on the ground.
Then, we take our gear back to the packing hall and write in our logbooks.
My mind wanders, and I find it difficult to be as detailed as I should.
I’ve got to get Faith off my mind, which doesn’t prove easy as I pack my rig.
Of course, being around Logan doesn’t help. When my face burns, and I actively fantasize about punching him in the stupid face, Wolfe intervenes. “Alright, change of subject. Who wants to go fishing?”
Logan looks at his watch, shaking his head, “I guess you two are taking the day off, but I better get back to work. We’re running a training exercise today.” Unlike my seasonal wildland firefighting gig, search and rescue work keeps him busy year-round
“Training on top of training?” Wolfe grumbles, raising an eyebrow.
I shake my head because I don’t feel like saying another word to Logan right now. Of course, I’ll get over it. We take a lot of pleasure in antagonizing each other. It’s just this particular topic sits way too close to my heart for comfort.
“Yep, all in a day’s work.” Turning to me, Logan apologizes, “Bro, I’m sorry I had a couple—okay many —laughs at your expense today. But you should know to leave well enough alone when it comes to Faith.”
His apology only ticks me off more. “Because I’m not good enough for her, you mean?” My voice holds more emotion than I mean it to.
Logan stares at me long and hard. I can practically see the lightbulb go off in his head. “Shit, you really do have a thing for her. Don’t you?”
“No, shit,” Wolfe replies, shaking his head.
“Sorry, dude.” Logan cups my hand with his shoulder, and I can see the authentic apology in his eyes, even as he continues to fight a smirk. As he leaves, I sigh in relief.
Wolfe looks concerned and slaps my back. “Let’s see what we can catch.”
WE SIT on the banks of Fugitive Lake, holding our rods and going through the motions of fishing. But really this is just how you get Wolfe to talk.
Normally, I prefer stream fishing, but that season won’t start for another couple of weeks.
I feel my phone vibrate in the pocket of my Wranglers, and I pull it out.
As much as I’d like to ignore it, fire season has trained me to be ready for anything.
Heck, I’ve already got my Jeep gassed and equipped for when I get the first call.
Looking at the screen, the name shocks me. Faith. I shake my head, pressing the ignore call button and put it back in my pocket.
Wolfe grunts, “You’re not going to get far if you quit talking to her.”
“I could say the same to you,” I reply, staring at my motionless fishing pole.
Wolfe and his wife Izzie are estranged and barely talk to each other.
I keep waiting for their official divorce announcement, but I don’t want to pry.
Because of Faith, I now realize matters of the heart are complicated and painful, sometimes beyond words.
“Yeah, but Faith is obviously in a talking mood. I can’t tell you the last time I had a call from Izzie apart from discussing the kids’ custody schedule.” His face scrunches, delivering the last sentence, and I can tell it upsets him. I also sense he doesn’t want to talk about it.
I’ve never been a man of few words, which is part of what’s gotten me in my current situation.
Why stop now? “I never had trouble with women as long as I was playing around. Never lacked for confidence or anything. But now that it actually means something, I’m an idiot.
Saying the wrong stuff, reading her moves wrong.
Hell, it’s fucking with my head and my confidence.
At least if I stay away, I can minimize further damage. ”
My brother nods, a muscle feathering in his jaw as he listens. A strong stretch of silence follows. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little butt hurt over one rejection? You said it yourself. You fucked up and said something stupid. I mean, she did let you kiss her.”
The sound of the lake’s waves and birds singing declare the advent of spring. The Sierra Nevada Mountains tower in the distance, rugged and icy with an overabundance of snow.
I don’t know how to explain it, but kissing her actually makes all of this worse.
That physical connection raised the stakes in ways I can’t quantify other than the throbbing ache in my chest. “Yeah, but the past year hasn’t just been one rejection.
It’s been thousands of them. She won’t stop friend zoning me and taking me for granted.
She doesn’t want to be seen out with me in public, and I also feel uncomfortable about the way she acts around her church people versus the rest of us. It’s like she leads two lives.”
“Tough to outrun expectations and stereotypes in a town this small.” He knows better than anyone what he’s talking about.
“Maybe you should quit focusing on how to act around women and be yourself. If Faith’s the right girl for you, it’ll work itself out.
But as things currently stand, you don’t know for sure because you keep trying to put on a bad boy act.
What’s worked with the other women won’t work with her.
Faith’s a different breed, and you know that better than anyone. ”
“But without my pickup lines and cocky comebacks, I’m a blubbering fool, bro.”
“Quit trying to act like Logan. Hell, even Logan doesn’t act like that since he met Jess. If it helps, try to think about what you really want instead of what you think you should want. ”
I rub my hand over my heart, taking in his words. “What I want is a steady girl. One that I can count on and who I know will be there for me before, during, and after fire season,” I say it quietly. I don’t know if the words surprise me or Wolfe more.
He nods, and I know he gets it as a military man. “You want someone to make a home and a family with.”
Thinking about it for a long spell, I ask, “Kind of a stupid thing for a twenty-seven-year-old, right?”
“Nope. If that’s what you want, why question it? Instead, figure out what you need to do to get it and keep it.”
I sigh, letting the thought sink into my head. “Well, I guess I’d start by letting go of my good-time-guy reputation.”
“That’s a start. And maybe focus on finding a girl who wants you for who you are rather than who she thinks you are? I don’t know if that’s Faith, but you might as well find out.”
“I don’t know. I always thought she was the one who worried too much about what others think. Maybe I’ve got my own issues there, too.”
“Tough to hang onto the past and the present. I think if you’d start acting a little more like yourself, you’d quit spouting dumbass lines.” Dumbass lines. It’s the first time he’s said it, but I knew he would.
We sit in silence for a long time, and I’m thankful for Wolfe’s quiet, non-intrusive way of being. But the conversation feels one-sided, and I don’t want it to be all about me.
So, I ask, “Wolfe, what is it that you really want?”
He glances at me, frowning. “Forgiveness.”
The one-word answer throws me off. I don’t know what all has gone on between Izzie and him because he and my sister-in-law both value their privacy. But it’s a damn shame because they used to be so good together. Maybe there are no happily ever afters when it’s all said and done .
I ask, “Forgiveness from Izzie?”
He nods, looking away. “And forgiveness for her. That can be more difficult than you think when you’ve let pain after pain pile on top of each other with no resolution.”