Chapter Five
Kendall couldn’t sleep.
Her mind was buzzing like a hornet trapped in a glass jar. She rolled over and fluffed her pillow, hoping to find the perfect position that would coax her to sleep. But nope, no such luck. Instead, her thoughts flicked back to the day, fast-forwarding through the events like a movie.
After Kendall and Sloane had arrived in Idyllwild, the first thing they did was find the local fire station where they met the fire chief.
He was a big, burly guy with a short buzz cut and deep lines on his forehead.
He was all gruffness and bravado, ready to turn them away when Kendall had said, “I completely understand your hesitation, Chief Daily, but this documentary is about the community. Specifically, this community, and the brave firefighters, like yourself, who will risk everything to keep it safe. My father, director Evans Wilde—I’m sure you’ve heard of him—is committed to making sure your story is told in the right light.
” She very rarely used her father’s name for anything, not to get out of speeding fines or tables at fancy restaurants or even that sold-out Taylor Swift concert last year, but this situation had called for it.
“Oh,” Chief Daily said. “You’re Evans’ daughter?” The change in tone was instantaneous––like flipping a switch. Suddenly, Kendall and Sloane were in the inner circle, obtaining leads on fire breakouts, and on containment procedures.
Later, the two of them had driven to Idyllwild Nature Center, where a large fire was heading east out of control.
Sloane had done all the filming. She had mounted the camera to the DJI Ronin––Kendall had never seen such a contraption––and effortlessly moved along the terrain.
Sloane had captured shots of crimson-orange flames licking at trees, smoke swirling upward in charcoal plumes, and even a mule deer darting for safety, its white tail flashing like a warning sign.
Much of the time spent out there, Kendall had watched the woman, trying to catch her eye.
She tried desperately to think of something clever to say.
The most she’d managed was, “Nice camera. Looks very fancy.” Which had felt as thrilling as commenting on the weather.
Sloane had barely acknowledged her, too focused on the flames and the angle of the shots.
Afterward, when they were both exhausted and hungry, they had ended up at the local inn, accepting chicken mayo sandwiches from the motherly woman at the reception desk.
“Thanks for earlier,” Sloane said. “With the whole Chief Daily thing. I’m sure we could’ve managed without bringing up your father, but it would’ve taken time. Time which we don’t exactly have.”
“It’s no problem.” Kendall smiled, wondering if it would be too weird to suggest going for an evening stroll or to go back downstairs to that small, empty dining room and sit down around one of the tables, eating their sandwiches while they talked.
Just talked.
“Well,” Sloane said, glancing awkwardly at the door of her room. “I’m going to have an early night. You should too.”
“Yes,” Kendall replied, her voice far too bright for such a late hour. But then again, it was nerves making her all wiry, flushing her neck and her cheeks. She was feeling nervous. But why?
“You’re right. An early night. Get some sleep before a busy day tomorrow.”
Sloane’s brows dipped low as she watched Kendall fumbling over her own words. “Good night, Kendall.”
“You too,” Kendall muttered under her breath, watching the door close behind Sloane.
Now, staring at the dark ceiling, Kendall couldn’t seem to get the woman out of her mind.
Not those striking blue eyes, or the way her dark hair had been pulled into a slick, tight bun for the second half of the day.
Not those hands with their royal blue painted nails or the way her white T-shirt was stretched over her lovely, pillowy breasts.
Sloane was right next door.
If Kendall concentrated hard enough, she swore she could hear the faint whistle of a snore through that thin wall. The sound was oddly comforting, like white noise.
Kendall listened to it for a while, until her lids became increasingly heavier and before she knew it, she was drifting off into a deep sleep. She was dreaming of bright blue flames, of Sloane in a blood-red dress, of oak trees walking, their roots wriggling above the ground.
“GET UP!” a voice shouted, followed by a few bangs on the door.
Kendall was startled, her arms and legs thrashing against the mattress as if she’d just experienced that feeling of falling off an imaginary cliff. Her mind was groggy, still trying to make sense of her dream of Sloane in that red dress, running toward her.
“WAKE UP!” There were another two bangs.
“It’s still dark out,” Kendall called back, not registering that it was Sloane standing on the other side of the door. For a breath, she imagined it was Reese, who was renting the second bedroom from Kendall, banging on the wood like she had done far too often in the unlawful hours of the morning.
But then the door flung open, and Sloane marched in, hands on her hips. Her face was scrunched into a scolding frown, and it took a second for Kendall to remember that she was lying on top of the duvet… fully naked.
Sloane appeared to realize the same thing. Her eyes went wide, traveled a bit too far south, and then, as if finally registering, the woman jerked her head away. Her cheeks turned crimson on the spot.
“You’re naked,” she spluttered. She quickly spun to face the wall instead of Kendall, who had just stumbled off the bed in search of her clothes. “Why the hell are you sleeping naked?”
“I’m sorry,” Kendall muttered, yanking on her T-shirt and pajama shorts she’d somehow discarded during the night when the room had gotten too stuffy and the duvet a bit too hot.
But then again, what did she have to be sorry for?
She had every right to sleep naked. It was her own room, after all.
“I mean… I didn’t think you’d just barge in like that. ”
Sloane, still facing the wall, cleared her throat. “Believe me, I regret that very much. You should really lock your door.”
“I’m decent,” Kendall said when every exposed, intimate bit of her was clad in clothing. Her heart was racing, half from embarrassment, and half from the thrill of the moment.
Sloane turned around, slowly, hesitantly, as if she didn’t completely believe that was the case. Funny how just less than a week ago, the woman was licking at Kendall’s breasts, and now she was covering her eyes like she had just witnessed a murder and didn’t want to be held culpable.
The world was a weird place.
“We’re heading out in five minutes,” Sloane said, backing up toward the door. “The fire spread overnight, and it’s heading toward Suicide Rock, pushing along the boundaries of the town.”
“That’s not good.”
“It isn’t. Not for the forest or the town.
” She paused, seemed to mull over what she wanted to say, and then sighed.
“It hurts to say this, but for us, it’s good.
Gives more of a story.” She glanced at Kendall and something unrecognizable danced behind her eyes.
She then tilted her head to the backpack slumped on the only chair in the room.
“Get dressed and meet me downstairs in five minutes.”
~~
The sky was still black by the time they arrived at Deer Springs Trail Head, only one mile north of Idyllwild.
Even though the fire wasn’t directly on the road, it was still close. Kendall could see the glow of the flames in the distance turning everything a molten orange.
Usually, she’d be suited up, her team at her back, taking orders and delegating some.
But now, in her jeans, sneakers, and an old sweatshirt, Kendall felt vulnerable—even more naked than she had felt earlier.
Her clothes felt flimsy, like they couldn’t shield her from anything, and the notion was terrifying.
Kendall hadn’t felt this out of control since that blind date.
“It’s too dangerous to head all the way along the trail up to Suicide Rock,” Sloane said, slamming the trunk shut with a thud.
“But we’ll get as close to the action as possible.
I want you to watch me handle the camera so you can take over at some point.
” She pulled the camera out and attached it to the mount.
“It’s all about stability,” Sloane explained.
“See? No wobble. That’s what we’re aiming for. ”
Kendall nodded, though frankly, everything Sloane was saying was flying over her head. It was dark. She was still half-asleep, and a fire hose seemed far easier to manage than a complicated camera.
“Now, the angle depends on what you want,” Sloane went on, lifting the camera.
“A wide shot for landscape or you can zoom in tight to capture emotion. Details like the soot on people’s faces, and the strain in their eyes, tell the real story.
We want to capture resilience. Not just the flames.
It’s the firefighters, the volunteers, their exhaustion and determination.
That’s what the people want to see. Real life heroes. ”
Kendall must’ve looked completely lost, because Sloane shot her a look and sighed heavily. “I’ll teach you as we go. For now, just keep close to me.”
Together, they darted up along the path. Kendall kept back slightly, so that she had a good view of Sloane and the flashlight she was holding. The bright beam was dancing in the dark, showing the way.
If she had to learn how to successfully use that complicated contraption, then so be it.
It wasn’t for her father, but rather, for herself, and for this new, unsettling need to show Sloane that she wasn’t pathetic.
It was completely nuts, but there was something about Sloane, about the way she looked at her, so intense, like she was trying to decipher whether Kendall would ever be worthy of holding a camera, that made Kendall want to try harder.
“Keep up,” Sloane said, glancing back over her shoulder, a furrow on her forehead as if Kendall was an inconvenience, a deadweight she was forced to pull along.
“If anything happens to you out here, I’m responsible.
Keep that in mind for the next few days.
Your daddy’s not going to be pleased if his daughter ends up as a charred marshmallow on the evening news. ”
“I can certainly handle myself around fire.” Kendall pouted, feeling severely annoyed all of a sudden. She was trying hard to think of an even better retort to throw Sloane’s way but sheepishly settled on: “I fight fires for a living. Or did you forget that?”
Sloane whipped her head back again, scowling even fiercer this time, and then picked up the pace. The beam of the flashlight sliced through the shadows.
Kendall followed and listened to the crunch of gravel beneath her sneakers, wishing she was wearing something hardier.
In fact, it would be nice if she were wearing something she could use to kick Sloane in the butt.
Besides, Kendall’s daddy had more than enough faith that she could keep herself alive in the face of danger.
He hadn’t once, not in five years, checked in on her after a fire call, and he wasn’t about to start now.
Up ahead, Kendall could hear the sounds of rushing water from hoses, blending with the shouts of firefighters. Chief Daily’s voice was somewhere in the mix. The crackling of flames was destroying everything in its wake.
The fire was hungry, devouring the forest inch by inch, the flames big enough to brighten the area so that the flashlight was no longer needed.
It was chaos. But oddly enough, it was mesmerizing, supernaturally beautiful. When Sloane ran forward, camera ready, seemingly unfazed that the fire wasn’t that far away, Kendall felt herself hanging back, watching in a way she never had before.
Sloane leaped gracefully onto a rock and angled the camera. The T-shirt she was wearing pulled tight across her back. “I don’t think we should get any closer than this,” Sloane was saying, though her gaze remained ahead. “Fires are too unpredictable.”
That was the truth. But so was whatever Kendall was feeling right then in that moment as she watched Sloane in action.
Just like yesterday, she was hypnotized.
Unlike yesterday, Kendall felt a swell of heat in her stomach that seemed to pulse down, not up.
It took her by such surprise she even swiped a hand across her lower belly, hoping it was a fleeting sensation and not something she’d have to acknowledge.
But she had to concede to it because the feeling was real.
This undeniable attraction and the intense need to rip off all Sloane’s clothes was as real as the fire before them.
Suddenly, she had an overwhelming need to kiss her.
To fuck her. It was so overwhelming it ate her up like the flames did the trees.
And frankly, it was a little exasperating.
Kendall rarely dated women like her. Specifically, women who were infuriatingly self-assured, and who made you feel like you were the one chasing after them, even when you weren’t.
The only way to drown out that maddening thought was to feed it adrenaline. Kendall sprinted forward, past Sloane, leaping over rocks, ducking under low-hanging branches, and dodging tree trunks until she stood right in front of the flames.
The heat hit Kendall’s face like an oven door swinging open. Without her mask, without her turnout gear, the flames were hotter, scarier… more lethal.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sloane cried, breathless, as she caught up. Strands of her mocha hair were matted to her forehead. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Fire is my bread and butter,” Kendall said defiantly. “And I’m not going to get myself killed. I’m trying to establish how close we can safely shoot. If you want your perfect angle, you need to know where the danger zone is.”
Sloane blinked, clearly stunned. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” Kendall shrugged, feeling the rush of the flames just feet away. “But if we’re going to do this, might as well do it right, no?”