Chapter 16 #2
Silent, he stared out the window for a long moment, looking at nothing really, since night had fallen and they were flying over high desert. A muscle in his jaw bunched with whatever dark thought he was having.
And she had that urge to soothe again. “But if the weather stays this good tomorrow…”
He broke off her words with a slow shake of his head, only his eyes revealing that he knew far too much about such things.
“That’s where people go wrong. They gauge the weather too soon, or from too far away.
Then they get content, or worse, confident.
Trust me. The fire creates its own weather.
At the very least, we’ll have winds, low humidity, high temps—”
“Ever the eternal optimist,” Brody said.
“It’s just the nature of the fire, not my nature,” Griffin protested, and after that, they flew in silence for a while. Brody brought out a deck of cards and tried to coax his brother into a game.
But Griffin wasn’t in a gaming mood.
“If you stay too intense for too long, Grif, you’re going to get wrinkles. Didn’t you ever listen to Mom?”
“I did. I’m just surprised to find out that you did.”
“Yeah, I always was the one in trouble, wasn’t I?” Clearly trying to lighten the mood, Brody grinned at Lyndie when she glanced back at him.
“My mother said ‘You’re the death of me’ so many times I thought that was my name.”
Lyndie found his grin contagious. “You two look alike, but you’re not.”
“That’s because I got all the good traits,” Brody said.
“If you call sleeping through life a good trait,” Griffin offered.
“Not this past year, I haven’t been sleeping through life.”
“Really?” Griffin arched a brow. “What have you been up to? Besides fly-fishing, that is.”
“I’ve been taking care of Mom and Dad, for one. And keeping up with all the friends you deserted. In fact, big brother, I’ve been doing all the things you should have been doing but haven’t, not since you vanished on us.”
Griffin turned to the window.
“Yeah, I can see you’re glad you asked.” The laughter and teasing had left Brody’s face. Serious, he looked even more like Griffin.
“You…vanished?” Lyndie asked Griffin.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
His rough, low voice took her aback.
“Of course you don’t,” Brody said. “Because if you don’t you can continue to dwell.” He looked at Lyndie. “There was a wildland fire in Idaho last summer. It was terrible, you probably heard about it on the news.”
“I should have never let you on this plane,” Griffin muttered.
“I heard about that fire.” Lyndie remembered she’d thought how courageous and amazing the people were who fought fires like that.
“Twelve died.” Brody sighed. “Twelve wildland firefighters.”
Griffin, still turned to the window, closed his eyes.
“Grif was on that fire,” Brody went on. “On one of the ground crews. They were his friends. One of them, Greg, had been his best friend since kindergarten.”
“God damn it,” Griffin said.
“You’ve got to be able to hear it out loud, man.
It’s time.” Brody’s voice softened as he finished his story.
“Afterwards, he up and walked away from all of us: me, my parents, his friends—including Greg’s wife, whom he was also close friends with.
Moved across the country and sat on a beach in San Diego. Moping. Sulking—”
“Brody—”
“Quiet, Grif. I’m telling a story.”
“My story.”
“Yes, well, it’s an important one and should be told.” Brody leaned back, put his hands behind his head, and sighed. “So I had no choice. I got motivated. I tracked him down, told him it was time to move on. Time to stop blaming himself when it wasn’t his fault. I got his ass in gear.”
Lyndie flew in silence for a moment as any remnant of temper at Griffin drained away.
Neither brother spoke. There was nothing to say, no possible way to make anything better for Griffin. He’d lost twelve of his crew—my God, and his best friend—and just thinking it made her heart stutter at the magnitude of his loss.
So much about him suddenly made sense. “Griffin…”
“Don’t,” he said, still looking out the window. “Don’t say anything. Unless it’s how to open an escape hatch so I can dump Brody out.”
“See? Brotherly love at its finest.” But he put his hand on Griffin’s shoulder and squeezed, his worry and love reflected only in his eyes. “I’m proud of you, you big idiot. I’m so damn proud of you.”
“What for?”
“For being here. For trying again. For doing what you do so well it’s always made me want to be a better man.”
At that, Griffin looked at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You give back,” Brody said quietly. “You put yourself out there. You always do, Grif, and it’s awe-inspiring, if you want the truth.”
“Look, all I’m doing is avoiding you calling in the troops.”
“You’re that afraid of Mom? Come on, after all you’ve faced?”
Griffin stared at him for a long moment, and Lyndie’s heart cracked yet again at all that was going on behind those amazing eyes. “I didn’t want to be here,” he finally said.
“I know.”
“And you forced it.”
“I know.”
Griffin sighed, then let out a tight laugh. “You do realize I’m going to be your supervisor out there, right?”
“Yeah. But you’ll go easy on me.”
“Sure I will.”
Brody blinked. “You’ll have me handing out drinking water, making sure everyone has snacks to eat, or something like that, right?”
“Something like that. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
“Yeah. Thanks. I won’t worry about a thing.”
Lyndie concentrated on flying, and evening out the tightness in her throat.
Soon enough, she took them into their final descent through the dark and smoky atmosphere, the flying as difficult as last time with the limited visibility.
But she was prepared for that, and it was nothing she couldn’t handle, marveling instead at the depth of love between the two men, despite all they’d been through.
Would she have had a brother or sister if her parents had lived? Would she have done anything, anything, if her sibling needed her, including putting her life on hold to make sure he or she got back on with hers?
As she had no blood connections left, the wondering seemed vain and silly, and certainly irrelevant, and she put it out of her mind.
But she couldn’t put what she’d learned about Griffin out of her mind as easily, and found herself in the position of wanting to soothe him, heal him. Touch him. She wanted to pull him close and never let him go.
As terrifyingly complicated, and as terrifyingly simple, as that.