Chapter Fifteen #2
After the promising relationship with Nora had shattered before her eyes, Fallon had texted Reva on her way out of Firecamp.
Along with authorization to give Nora her paycheck to replace the broken camera, Fallon had stated that she was taking a short break and left it at that.
Being back in her trailer alone would have added to the hurt, so she’d headed south.
At one time, she had been able to drive for hours, lulled into lassitude by the familiar sound and sights of travel.
Now she couldn’t seem to go an hour without being inundated by thoughts, feelings, or tears.
By dusk, she’d been exhausted and emotionally drained and almost to the border of New Mexico.
Leaving Colorado had seemed like a line she shouldn’t cross, and when it struck her that she was doing exactly what her mother had done for all those years—running from her pain—she’d found a clean motel in the small town of Mason’s Bluff and stopped.
There, she’d written dozens of letters to Nora, ultimately tearing up each one.
A day later, she’d bought a six-pack of beer and drunk the whole thing before stumbling to the bathroom and puking for what felt like hours.
Walking the streets of the small town, she’d seen three Help Wanted signs, but the ads for waitstaff, stocking, or clerical jobs held no appeal.
More certain than ever that Firecamp was the place for her, she’d sought a way to be there without being crushed by sadness and shame.
Calling Reva to confirm she’d be allowed to come back, she’d learned that a crew leader from Oregon had transferred to her base and would be next in line for the job Fallon had wanted.
In truth, she’d been relieved. The way things had ended with Nora had made her realize that she wasn’t just young, she was immature, and she needed to learn to deal with her own issues before she could lead a team.
After her next year at Firecamp—and one messy, ill-advised relationship with another crew member—she’d begun seeing a counselor once or twice a week. Reva had made her therapy a mandatory condition for any potential promotion, and in retrospect, Fallon was glad.
Dr. Ann Carver had been kind but firm in her insistence that Fallon develop a realistic view of herself.
“Most of us go through a gawky period in our adolescence. Your body has moved on, but your mind hasn’t.
” When Fallon admitted that she’d never watched Nora’s video, no matter how many recruits claimed it had inspired them, Ann had encouraged her to do so.
“That reaction to Nora’s photos was based on how you saw yourself, not on what she saw in you.
Maybe you need to figure out which was accurate. ”
Fallon had dodged the issue of Nora’s video by asking, “Then how can I avoid making the same mistakes in my next relationship?”
Ann had answered with a question of her own. “Why didn’t you tell Nora that you wanted to talk about a future together?” Fallon had shrugged. She’d done a lot of that during their first sessions, but Ann wouldn’t let her off the hook. “Because you’re so nice, you wanted to put her needs first?”
“Well, she was busy. Besides, I shouldn’t have had to say. She knew.”
“Did you tell her that you loved her?” It was a simple question, but Fallon’s mouth had gone dry.
“People can’t read your mind,” Ann had said gently, “no matter how many hints you give. There’s no magic in getting what you want.
You’re the one responsible for your needs, no one else.
Wishing or hoping that someone will meet your expectations is not only futile, it’s incredibly frustrating, for everyone. ”
Fallon had looked at her clenched hands.
She already knew about not wishing, but Ann was right about how frustrating those last days had been.
“The way to finding real love is to believe you’re worthy of it,” Ann had said, her voice soft with compassion.
“Daring to want something special in life is no reason for guilt or shame. The right person won’t judge you or be annoyed when you ask for what you deserve.
Otherwise, you’re just settling, and those unfulfilled desires can fester inside, creating persistent depression or igniting in rage. ”
It hadn’t been rage, but Fallon knew she’d expressed her feelings quite clearly when she’d looked up at the sound of a camera shutter only to see Nora Palmer photographing her and Maris in what could be considered a compromising position.
She should have simply reminded Nora that Maris hadn’t signed a release and asked her to delete the shots.
But after she’d accused Nora of the “same old shit,” she’d seen the split-second of hurt on her face before Nora had taken a step back.
Both reactions were unusual for the woman she remembered.
“We’re at mile marker 162,” Maris said quietly.
“What?” Fallon pulled off, and Maris handed her the map.
They were in the middle of the area assigned to them, but based on the prevailing winds and the current position of the fire, work done here would have little to no effect.
Clearly, Ranger Dick planned to ensure the safety of Nora and Tyler, even at the risk of the lives and property of the people of Kamberto.
And if things went to shit, he’d probably find a way to make her take the fall for it.
She turned to the crew. “Everybody stretch your legs. Get some water and find a friendly tree if you need to.”
The van door opened, and Fallon could hear her people moving around outside. She turned to Maris. “We’ve been given incorrect coordinates. But if we contact Ranger Dick…”
She trailed off, and Maris filled in the rest. “He’ll either put someone else in charge and we’ll stay right here, or he’ll pull those media people out and send us into the hot zone.”
Nora appeared between them from the rear of the van. “What do you mean ‘incorrect coordinates’?”
Maris looked away, and Fallon leaned back in her seat, staring out the windshield. “This isn’t part of your story, Ms. Palmer. Why don’t you take a break with the rest of the crew?”
“Why are you so certain I’m not on your side?
I don’t have to document anything, but if you’ll explain what’s going on, I could still help.
” Something in Nora’s tone made Fallon turn to look at her.
“I made a mistake once before,” Nora whispered, though Maris had to have heard.
“And I can’t ever make things even, but I’d still like the chance to do something right this time. ”
She was always about making things even. But it was impossible to look away from the earnestness in Nora’s deep brown eyes. After a long pause, Fallon said, “Maris, could you please check the pressure in the two rear tires? We might need more air with the extra load we’re carrying.”
“Falcon, no. I—”
Fallon held up her hand. “You’ve got a solid career ahead of you, which means you need to have plausible deniability about my decisions. And I’m counting on you to take the lead with the crew if anything happens to me. Step outside.”
Maris got out without another word. Fallon shifted in her seat to face Nora again. “You probably heard enough to know what’s going on. Apparently, our ranger wants to make sure you and Tyler are safe because he’s sent us so far out of the way, we’re basically doing yard work.”
Nora nodded. “I didn’t ask for his protection, you know.”
“I do know that.”
“Then take us where we need to go. And if I need to make it part of my story, there are many ways I can spin this depending on what kind of ball your ranger wants to play. Coordinates typo or computer error? Weather forecast inaccuracy or misprint on the map? I’ll cover his ass with glory any way I need to as long as it keeps you in the clear. ”
Fallon chewed her lip. “I, uh, I didn’t mean to be so harsh earlier. But you don’t owe me anything, you know?”
“I do, but that’s a conversation for another time. Don’t we have a fire to get to, Falcon?”
Opening her door, Fallon yelled, “Everybody in. We’re moving in two minutes.”
At their new location, Fallon and Maris calculated the best place to create the firebreak.
Mileage-wise, it wasn’t much farther, but they positioned themselves almost opposite of where they’d been sent in terms of the road to town and the fire itself.
Within the hour, they’d started work, and as bad as the wind was for fighting the fire, everyone was grateful that it helped blow at least some of the smoke past them.
For a time, Fallon kept an eye on Nora as she snapped photos from various angles, but watching her move and seeing her concentration as she worked was rekindling feelings from their time together ten years ago.
Fallon forced herself to look away, turning her attention to the job at hand.
After an hour or so, Nora and Tyler joined her at one of the large water jugs as she soaked a bandana before returning it to one of her newest crew members. Nora’s camera clicked again as Fallon said, “You’re doing great, Caden. Hang in there.”
After Caden left, Fallon scanned her crew as they worked, pretending not to listen as Nora spoke to Tyler.
“My editor told me to get some good stuff, and I’m super impressed with the speed and competence of these sawyers,” she told him.
“I should have all the shots I need for today, but I’m sure you can catch anything more that comes up. Just be careful.”
The seriousness in her tone made Fallon turn, and she watched in surprise as Nora handed Tyler her camera. “It’s on autofocus. Leave it that way. If something happens, try to get as many different angles as you can, but stay clear of falling trees.”
“Check,” he said. “But what are you going to do?”
“Help.” Nora looked to Fallon, touching her arm briefly. “I know you didn’t leave base without loading PPE and an extra saw for me. I’m ready.”
Fallon pushed down her own bandana and grinned. “I thought you’d never ask. Follow me.”