Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
CALEB
The air was thick with smoke and the scent of burning, the shouts of our fellow firefighters amid the crackling flames and hiss of water drowning them out. Sweat trickled down my temples, slick on my neck and back. I glanced at Smack, catching his gaze, and we hauled out the hose line.
Fire season had now become a year-round event. Captain Smack and I had been fighting this one for days. The wind, unfortunately, was not our friend. Embers blew, and another two fires resulted. One of the newer fires was headed right toward some suburban sprawl.
Bone-tired, we worked the hose line for hours. In our downtime, we called family, ate a little, slept poorly in the tight confines of the trailer. The only positive was sleeping near Captain Smack, even if it was innocently, though I was hyperaware of the mint of his toothpaste, the steady warmth of his body in the bed we shared, my knees at his ass, our bodies curling awkwardly to avoid any touching. I had to admit I missed the connection, the warmth, of sleeping near another person, though. Despite the fire, a selfish part of me was happier here. I was busy, with less time to think.
Thinking wasn’t my friend. It was too easy to slip into darker ideas. Or self-pity. The wildfire put this into perspective. I hadn’t lost my place to live or, God forbid, my loved ones. And I was doing good here, even if the fires still weren’t fully contained. Captain Smack had been responsible for the 60 percent containment we accomplished. He was strategic. He followed the orders of others, but it was his quick thinking that used some helicopters to our advantage on the ground. Today, though, the winds had kicked up again, and we lost some much-needed ground. More air tankers were being flown in.
We scrambled down the brush. Smack matched my speed, untangling more line. The fire was a living thing, an insatiable beast. And I felt every callus on my fingers. My muscles strained. I hadn’t fully slept in days. The shockingly cold spray hit part of my face. The fire was loud, groaning. I peered at the sky, a mushroom cloud of black.
“Let’s go for a defense attack,” Smack said.
It made sense to me. Fighting the fire directly might not be feasible, especially if there was hazardous material around, which was the case with many wildfires.
“Will it be enough?” I asked Smack. Grime covered every inch of my body, but I’d press on if it meant some success.
Smack grimaced. I could see every etched worry line near his eyes, despite his mask. “It’s gotta be enough.”
We fought onward, closer to the flames. The helicopters above us dumped water, but the wind was stealing it, making it miss the mark. Meanwhile, it felt like a high-burning dryer all around us, the air hot and heavy. Seeing the helicopter, I had to fold my arms to my sides to fight the urge to flag it down. I wanted to be of use now, not later.
Panting a little, Smack signaled we should take a break. Part of me didn’t want to stop, but I knew he was being practical. We walked to a clearing and took small sips of water.
Smack closed his eyes. “It’s a rough one today.”
“Are you regretting volunteering?”
“No.” The look on his face was determined.
“Me either. Although I am fantasizing about gooey cheese pizza and some cold beer instead of this water.”
Smack’s gaze swung back to mine. “Beer would be paradise right now.” His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled.
God, I liked him. He’d been my boss for years, and we’d gone along in those roles just fine, with nothing changing, and then—being on this road trip with Smack, it all felt like change had arrived. Like this was the time that all the rest was building towards.
“We could grab two cold ones back in Phoenix?” I suggested, trying to sound casual. “I know this great little sports bar…”
“Caleb, I—” He stopped abruptly, as if realizing where we were. “I need another sip of water. My throat is dry.”
I nodded, disappointed. But what did I expect from him? “Want to check the perimeter?” I asked. “Maybe we can help somebody?”
“Let’s do it.” Smack rested a hand on my shoulder.
Everything inside of me felt that casual touch. Sometimes the dynamic between us was boss and coworker, and his touch didn’t affect me. Other times—like this one—the slightest touch felt intentional.
“Ready?” Smack nodded toward the road.
The outside air was thick and hot, overcast with the gray of smoke. I nodded, adjusting my mask.
We trudged uphill in our heavy gear, searching for signs of distress. A different time, I’d have stopped and admired the view. It was beautiful country. Towering trees that had been here for decades made me look in wonder. They were breathtaking and now in jeopardy of being destroyed.
A bend in the trail revealed several homes, some already deadened from previous burns. We kept on moving until we saw some farmland. It was better here, still with a promise of people and animals.
I walked near a green Adirondack chair, my feet crunching over a few twigs. There was a cute fire pit near it. Not that anybody needed a fire pit this season. It made me sad to consider the folks who must have enjoyed their property only to flee from it now.
Smack checked the closest farmhouse, finding nobody. Then we checked another. Only a burnt truck was left, the metal twisted. We walked a little further past some brown grass. Smack scowled, taking in the loss of vegetation.
“Fucking too late,” he grumbled. He began to walk up the road as I scrambled after him.
There was a muffled shout. “Over here. Help us, please, God,” a man’s voice called, choked and thin.
Looking up, we saw a small chicken coop. The birds screeched, running wild. Beyond that, a shed. It was a miracle we heard the man’s voice. We hurried to the small wooden structure. A man and his son crouched in the corner, stuck behind a caved-in roof. We couldn’t easily get to them. Hot licks of the fire burned way too close to their location.
“I’ll hose the ground, you secure them.” Smack tossed me an emergency backpack, and I doused some blankets with water.
“Come with me.” I waved my arms at the chickens, and they moved in the right direction, away from the fire.
“Oh my God,” the man said, staring at the flames looming over us. Smack took out a foam extinguisher and went to work. Who knew what was burning around us? The hazardous conditions, the materials a wildfire would carry, were serious. This was a hot zone like I’d never seen. I had been too confident about containment, which was uncertain. All of a sudden, there was a bang and falling debris. Shingles flew off the roof, branches crashed around us, and the air was filled with particles and acrid fumes winding around us.
“Daddy!” the son screamed.
I leapt to the boy, working on an extraction where he was lodged underneath the rubble. We didn’t have anything like the Jaws of Life with us, but luckily, the debris wasn’t heavy or sharp. A piece hit my arm, but I kept working. More pieces rained down as I worked to dig the child out. I cleared his foot, and we brought him to his weeping father.
He hugged his son to him. “Our Lord, please.” He looked at the ominous sky.
“Pray, but move,” Smack snapped.
The father and son obeyed his orders, even as the dad continued to sob and pray. Smack lifted the boy into his arms and helped him over the rugged terrain. I watched him gently put the boy down, ruffling his hair.
“Caleb is going to take you two the rest of the way.” He glanced at me. “I want to recheck the area before I follow.”
“Okay.” I bit my lip to not say more. I wanted to warn him to be careful or hurry back—something totally inappropriate to say to my captain.
As if he read my mind, Smack gave me a long stare, his eyes hooded, his stance hard and sexy. Then he stalked away.
I wrapped them in wet blankets and made our way out of the danger. As I brought them to safety, the man openly wept. “It’s going to all be gone, isn’t it?”
“Don’t look at that. Look at your son.” As I spoke, I allowed myself to look at Captain Smack, strong and safe and making his way toward us.
When he reached us, he laid his gloved hand on the man’s shoulder. “All right?”
The man cleared his throat, wiping his eyes with the blanket. “We will be. Thank you.”
Smack turned to me. “Good? I saw the piece of the shed hit you.”
I nodded. “I’m fine. You?”
He gave a single dip of his head and smiled. I didn’t know if he was thinking about how we’d saved the father and son, or if he was glad the two of us got out of this one okay, or if he needed comfort from me. I smiled back, aching to give him whatever he needed.
“Let’s get them to a shelter.”
After we took them to safety, Smack asked, “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet.” His eyes searched mine.
“Sure, I’m fine.” I rubbed the back of my neck, scanning the signs of lingering smoke in the horizon. “I’m just happy we helped out and did some good today.”
“You always do good, Caleb.”
His voice was so sincere, his words so simple. Yet he made me want to cry. My gaze fixed on his.
“You should be happy with your work. With everything,” Smack added softly.
“Is anybody that happy?” I shrugged.
“I don’t know. Maybe happiness takes more courage than fighting fires.” Smack studied me for a long moment, as if to memorize my features. This normally made me uneasy, but not with him. I looked in return, studying his eyes, mouth, the shape of his head.
“Do you want to go get some rest?” Smack asked, clearing his throat.
“Sounds good,” I agreed, though my chest felt tight.
We dragged ourselves to a state of readiness the next morning and headed out, sharing a few protein bars and some juice in silence.
“Want another bar?” he asked, holding out the last one.
I smiled. “Thanks.”
Smack nodded, then turned a little, wincing. He pressed a hand to his calf and massaged it.
“Problem?”
“Just happens when I get only a little sleep.”
“Want some water? It can ease a muscle cramp.”
“I’m good,” he grumbled.
I pursed my lips but didn’t argue, and we started out for the day.
We navigated the GPS on my phone while Smack conferred with the other team about meeting up in an hour.
The pine trees’ fresh scent mixed with the smell of smoke. Neither of us attempted any small talk as the sunrise started.
“Want to separate?” Smack asked.
“Um, yeah, sure.”
I didn’t, really. But it would sound needy and over-the-top to ask Smack to stay with me. We were here to do a job. Why I was feeling raw shouldn’t matter.
Smack took a sharp inhale through his mask. “Be careful. Keep your radio on and keep in touch.”
He took a step toward some charred trees, and I went the other way.
Up ahead of me, I found a barn. No animals. The structure had old wood. It would burn fast if the flames got to it. I wrinkled my nose at the smell. I stepped out of the barn and looked toward the woods. Behind me, where Smack had gone, I got an eerie feeling. I turned and saw the flames. They hadn’t been near us moments ago.
“Captain?” I radioed him. “Everything okay on your end?”
There was a flash in the sky. Lightning? Rain would be good, but this looked like heat lightning.
I radioed him and began to jog toward his path. “Fuck, answer me.”
I heard his message at the same time I spotted a small house, the roof half caved in.
“I’m in the house—twisted an ankle. Lots of smoke. Do not come after me. Call for backup.”
“I see it,” I shouted. I gripped the radio in a tight fist. “I’ll come to you.”
“No.”
Everything changed with the message. I knew his danger must be bad, that he wasn’t safe. Captain Smack wouldn’t say no in that tone otherwise.
“I’m coming,” I repeated.
“Don’t,” he croaked. “That’s—an—order.”
“Wait for backup,” I said.
“Yeah…” His voice faded.
“Captain,” I whispered, even though inside I wanted to scream. Sob. Cry.
I sprang forward, ignoring his last order. Let him kick my butt. Let him give me my walking orders. I wasn’t going to wait. The fire—growing in size and heat all around me—was not going to wait.
The house was surrounded by a wall of fire. There would only be a small chance to get Captain Smack. I had less than five minutes to assess the chances of the house collapsing before I could do it. My brain immediately did the calculations of where the fire was, how old the house might be, and how I’d exit once inside.
“Captain,” I yelled into the radio.
Only static. Panicked, I flung the radio down and raced into the house.
It was pitch-black inside, no way to see.
“Captain Smack!” I shouted. “Please!”
Answer me , I prayed. Smack could not be dead. He had to be okay. Erin could not become an orphan. I could not lose my captain.
Emotions all jumbled together as I went deeper into the house. Somewhere in the living room, maybe. It was so fucking dark.
I bumped into a couch and pivoted right. My gear felt like weights as I trudged an inch forward. Then I bumped into something that was not a piece of furniture.
I crawled on my hands and knees to him. I pushed away any terror, and my training took over. Locating him, I bent to check his airways. Thank God, Smack was breathing. Without hesitation, I scooped him up and over my shoulder. I juggled his weight and moved, backtracking on instinct, blinded by smoke, then groped for the front door, kicking away any debris, stumbling to remain upright.
The handle was warm in my grasp, but I turned it, and suddenly—light, air.
I found my speed, rushing with him away. Like a football player might sack somebody, I charged with Smack in my arms toward the clearing. The house was aflame moments later.
Smack and I were far enough away from the flames now. Still, my heart slammed against my ribs.
“Are you all right?” I rasped.
“Yeah.” He coughed. “My mask wasn’t fitting right, and the smoke—but you got me out in time.”
As soon as he answered, instead of being reassured, I fell apart.
Memories chased me like ghosts. The day I took another chance, boldly tackling a gas fire. Only that day went all wrong, the fire too big. Unlike today, I misjudged how much time I’d had. The roar had been so loud as the fire found me. It all happened so fast. I couldn’t save myself.
I thought it was my end.
My breath became a wheeze. I’d survived that fire, but barely. My body trembled with uncontrollable shakes and quakes. In my mind, I was still staring down a huge flame that was going to consume me.
Smack’s eyes narrowed. “Caleb?”
“What?”
“I’ve been calling your name for like five minutes. Did you get hurt helping me? It was damn risky of you.” He ran a hand over me, checking for injuries.
“Fine,” I gasped. “Just aftereffects…” I tried to stop my dark thoughts as I was on the edge of panic. Not because I was in danger, but the memory of the other time—it loomed large.
“Flashback,” I croaked. “It’s dumb, I’m sorry?—”
“Just breathe,” Smack said.
My muscles stiffened, and I braced myself, waiting for him to tell me that I was a fool for reacting like this when nothing bad had occurred. But the smell inside the house today, the moldy smell, mixed with the other fire. Only those flames had been like a funnel cloud.
“Fuck,” I said in a small voice. I tried to smile, my mouth wobbling. “I don’t know why—sometimes… I’m sorry.”
He rubbed my back. “I’m here. Right here.”
“I’m okay now.” I quaked. And it was almost true. His touch made it all right. Better, at least.
The rubbing was gentle, as if he didn’t want it to hurt.
His voice was soft, patient. “You don’t have to apologize or pretend. Not with me.” He held me in the protective circle of his arms.
“Maybe my nerves are a little frayed,” I admitted. My gaze darted up to his. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’ve got you.” His voice was warm and firm.
I hadn’t even realized I’d spoken out loud, but I was glad I had. Exhaling again, I calmed a little.
“Focus on my voice, wiggle your toes. Try and just be in the moment,” Smack spoke softly to me. “Breathe.”
I breathed.
Once I’d calmed, Smack wrapped a wet blanket around me. It helped. After a minute, he pulled me close. In the embrace of his arm, the last dredges of my shakiness were fading.
“I’m getting you wet,” I wheezed.
“I don’t give a fuck.” The words rumbled beneath my cheek. I felt his chest rising with mine, breathing with me.
The fire snaked away, turning and twisting. We’d have to try and catch it again. But I felt oddly okay. Safe. After a moment, I asked, “How is the ankle? Can you walk?”
He nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I could trust him to admit any pain. I supported him as we stood, and with his arm around me, we headed back to the truck.
“Another team is coming.”
We didn’t speak much as the team replacing us arrived and we got checked out by the medics. Smack and I were cleared for any smoke inhalation. His ankle was already less swollen. The EMT gave me a prescription for my panic attack, which was lessening, too.
We drove to base camp. Embers fell like black snowflakes all the way back. Smack pulled into the parking lot near the communal showers. We walked silently to them, and I sat on the bench to remove my boots.
“Need a hand?”
“I got it.” I turned away, embarrassed and also weak-kneed. Smack had the sore ankle, yet he’d driven and was asking me if I needed help. Shame clung to me that I wasn’t okay. I still needed time to recover from my anxiety. My skin prickled. The scars sometimes felt this way, like my skin itched to shed them. A reminder of why touch for me was complicated, not simple.
I scurried ahead of him into the showers.
My teeth chattering, I turned on the faucet and prayed Smack wouldn’t follow me. I couldn’t handle him naked beside me. That would be too much. The idea of Smack undressing and getting naked under the water made me feel disturbed and light-headed all at once. How would he look with the water cascading over his strong frame? Fucking hell …I could not stop having these thoughts.
The water was lukewarm, but it helped me shed some of my shock. I let some tears go. The spray washed them away, and I wished they could take the experience with them. I toweled off and redressed, feeling refreshed.
When I stepped outside the showers, Smack was waiting for me. He pushed away from the wall and stood before me. “Better?”
“Yeah.” I gave an awkward laugh. “I’m okay. Really.”
“I’m not.” He cracked a smile. “I was fucking afraid. And I haven’t even thanked you for saving my ass.”
“Welcome.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “And thank you for not judging me when I lost my shit back there.”
“Welcome,” Smack echoed my words.
“I guess…being afraid goes with the job.”
Smack nodded. “We wouldn’t be human otherwise.”
His face went all gentle, his eyes soft.
And then I was hugging him, somehow, and Smack hugged me back. His arms wrapped around me in a squeeze. And he felt very, fucking human to me.
“Being here is a struggle,” I admitted in a low voice. “I’m not sure why it’s triggering me, but today when you were in danger, and the relief it turned out okay… Some fires don’t bother me at all, but others… I’m working on it, though. I’m still in therapy, I do yoga twice a month, I journal.”
“It’s good to keep using all the tools in the toolbox. Especially therapy.” Smack released me from the hug. His gaze held mine, full of understanding. “I did some therapy after Dan…” He broke our locked glance, his cheeks slightly pink.
I stared at the hollow of his throat, not daring to meet his eyes. Even that was luring me in—I wanted to stroke my fingers over it.
The younger version of me would have made a move. But I had been a different person before my accident, less worried and restrained. After my on-and-off-again relationship with Tanner and his reluctance with me after the accident, I’d become a person who felt ugly more often than attractive. Less certain anybody could want me. But I missed physical touch, sexual pleasure. I wanted so badly to bury myself in Smack’s neck, touch my lips to his skin.
I already missed the hug. As if he did, too, Smack grasped onto my shoulder. I saw him gulp in some air. Was he feeling the same as me? Or was I only seeing what I wanted to see? Would reality be far different from my fantasy of what these touches all meant?
Smack stood next to me, still holding my shoulder, his hand warm. His body was bigger and welcoming as it took up all the space. He watched me with a tender smile that made me want to cry.
Smack dropped his hand and stepped back. “I should take a shower, too. I reek.”
“Oh, okay.” I looked away.
I felt like a fish who’d suddenly lost his goldfish bowl. One who just realized this was the fucking ocean.
I used to be so good at ignoring that scared little piece inside of me. Not anymore. My heart was in unprotected waters. I wanted to go for it. Kind of. But I was still afraid. Longing mixed with fear in a thousand directions.
“See you in the trailer once I’m done?”
“I’ll be there. Um, hey…”
“Yeah?” Smack’s face turned hopeful.
“Just to warn you, the soap in the shower is harsh stuff.”
“Too many chemicals. But I have to get clean, so I’ll deal.”
I waited until he was out of sight before dashing off like the coward I was.