Chapter 5

FIVE

Today was a new day, but Booth still had old business to finish.

"C'mon, Crispin, answer!" Booth hung up the phone at the robotic voice that said the caller was unavailable.

Unavailable, but hopefully not dead. Crispin needed to know about the arsonist since he could probably find the guy before the sheriff did.

It all had to be connected.

Which was why, probably, he'd tossed the night away on the hard ground. Sleeping in a tent never got any easier, but somehow last night had been worse than normal. Maybe it was sleeping on the lumpy ground with a rock digging into his back. Maybe it was thoughts of Nova.

Mixed, of course, with seeing her in the fight and how Tank had hit her.

So yeah, he needed coffee in a serious way. As he came out of the barn, he headed for the campfire, where his bleary-eyed crew gathered around the dregs of the fire and sipped fresh coal-brewed coffee.

Sophie handed him a cup. "Morning. Sorry about the sleeping accommodations." Her eyes flicked to Booth's hand kneading the stubborn knot in his shoulder.

He dropped his hand and waved off her concern. "Naw, jumpers are used to roughing it. Grateful for your hospitality though."

"Things should improve. A pal of mine has an RV lot. He's bringing a few trailers to set up. Should have kitchens and running water by day's end."

Booth nearly choked midswallow. A shower would be nice right about now. Even in a cramped RV stall. "Wait, you managed full trailers? Out here?"

She shrugged. "He owed me a favor. Figure it's the least we can do, getting you heroes settled proper."

Hero? Booth hadn't felt like a hero since he left Homeland. But nice to hear some people still considered what he did brave. "Still, that's crazy generous. Opening up your place to us and now this. Do you need any help getting spaces prepped today?"

Despite the symphony of bruises he'd earned battling the arsonist, he was still up for light duty, lending his muscle whenever possible. Might keep his thoughts from drifting toward Nova again too.

"No, no." She waved a hand. "Besides, it's your day off. Relax. Rest your bones before the next fire call comes."

Sophie was right. As much as his battered body craved collapsing into a deep sleep, wildfires waited for no man. Or woman, he amended, catching sight of Nova rolling her sleeping bag into a tight tube to keep the creepy-crawlies out.

"And that's my cue to leave," said JoJo, nodding to the sheriff cruiser pulling up the drive. "Just kidding. I planned to head into Ember to see my family. I want to hug my mom, maybe eat a homemade meal."

"I could use a burger at the Hotline," said Logan. "Maybe shoot some pool. Anyone want a ride?"

"Me," Booth said.

"Hold up, I need to have a word." Sheriff Hutchinson crooked a finger at Booth.

Booth turned to Logan. "Go on ahead. I'll catch a ride later."

With a thumbs-up, Logan and the rest headed out. Sophie disappeared into her house.

Booth followed Sheriff Hutchinson and stopped behind the patrol car. "What can I do for you, Sheriff?" Though, he had some guesses. "Any news on the arsonist?"

"My boys lifted some prints and we got a match." Hutchinson pulled out a small notebook and flipped the page. "Clyde Walsh. He'd been cooling his heels in Lompoc Federal Correctional for the last fifteen months. Got out a month ago."

"Sounds like just enough time to collect payment and start a fire." Booth clenched then unclenched his fists.

"Well, he won't be getting paid." Hutchinson scratched the side of his cheek. "He's dead."

Booth blinked. "Dead? As in murdered?"

The sheriff nodded. "Deputies found him stabbed to death in a seedy motel in the next town over."

Apparently, someone hadn't liked Clyde's work and had decided not to pay. "Any leads on who hired him?"

Hutchinson's duty belt creaked as he shifted his weight. "Still digging. Walsh is known as someone willing to get his hands dirty, and he's got a long rap sheet to prove it. Arson, assault, witness intimidation. My guess is it's the same guys who've hired him before."

Booth's jaw tightened. If only the sheriff knew the kinds of people he was likely dealing with. Dangerous people with money and connections.

He happened to glance at the barn to see Nova struggling to carry an ammo can of water. Why did she insist on pushing him away and doing everything alone? Maybe after the sheriff left, Booth would insist harder.

He turned his attention back to the sheriff. "Who's hired Walsh before?"

"Never had enough evidence to convict, but rumor had it that it was an anti-government group known as The Brothers." Hutch crossed his arms. "They're Russian sympathizers and under FBI and Homeland investigation for their dealings with the Bratva. That's the Russian mafia."

Booth's pulse kicked up. He knew where this was going, and it was nowhere good.

Hutchinson continued, "These two brothers, the Blackwell brothers, have been vocal against federal overreach. Their daddy lost the family ranch in a dispute with the Bureau of Land Management. I guess the older one, Floyd, never forgave the Feds for that. After high school he got pretty radical, talking about revolution this, Russian allies that."

Hutchinson leaned back against his cruiser. "Floyd did a couple years for selling explosives to an undercover agent…got out maybe ten years back? He dropped off the radar after that. Then his brother, Earl, shows up local a few months ago talking a big game. I figured Floyd was up to his old tricks somewhere and Earl was the bag man. Probably why he was at the camp that day."

Booth swallowed, thoughts churning. "When he died in the fire out at the Wildlands Academy," he finished.

Yeah, he definitely remembered Floyd Blackwell from his days in Homeland Security. They'd compiled a thick dossier on him and his anti-government activities. Placed him on the federal watch list.

"You think Floyd hired Walsh to torch jump base to get back at us for Earl's death?"

"Could be." The sheriff pinched his lips. "We'll keep pulling on loose ends. Meantime, you and your crew watch your backs. Call me if you catch wind of anything else strange."

Booth nodded as Hutchinson climbed into his cruiser and pulled off, the cruiser disappearing down the drive in a plume of dust.

He sighed, spine rigid with frustration. Every minute delayed gave criminals time to cover their tracks and get away while Crispin's fate hung unknown.

Glancing toward the plane, he spotted Nova lugging more supply crates. He'd planned to offer his help, but quite frankly, he wasn't sure his heart could handle the inevitable rejection right now.

Still, he couldn't ignore the protectiveness that welled up inside him when he looked at her.

With no idea of Crispin's location, and without any leads, all Booth could do was hope his friend turned up soon, preferably before whoever was after him. Sticking close to the ranch in case Crispin came looking seemed the smart play.

Physical exertion might relieve the tempest whirling, and since Nova didn't need help, he'd ask Sophie. He found her in her kitchen, cutting apples.

She smiled when she saw him. "Hey, I thought you'd gone to town with the rest."

"Decided to hang around here awhile."

"Fresh coffee if you're interested." She nodded to the pot on the counter.

"Thanks." He poured a fresh cup and took a long, appreciative sip. "Mind if I help with the horses?"

Sophie's hand went to her hip. "Why would you want to do that?"

"I dunno. Something about being around them relaxes me." Besides, mindless labor should give him time to get his thoughts in line.

"I know exactly what you mean." She grinned and tossed an apple core in the trash can. "I was just about to feed and water them, but if you can handle that, I'll get breakfast out of the oven."

"You already made breakfast? What time did you get up, woman?"

"Early. Same as always. You remember what to do?"

Booth had helped Houston take care of the horses while Sophie had been away for a weekend retreat. "A scoop of grain. Two squares of hay."

"Perfect." She squinted and held up her index finger. "Annnd…I think I've got some leftover apple crisp. I'll set it aside for when you're done."

"Oh, you rock. My favorite." Booth tossed back the remains of his coffee and handed the cup to Sophie. "Better get to it."

He crossed the pasture and headed for the weathered barn. Already the sun was beating down through high clouds. Reports of lightning in the mountains promised more fires and another brutal shift. At least the horses would offer some measure of balm for his psyche.

Sure enough, the familiar earthy aromas of hay and grain managed to clear his head the moment he walked in.

Equine noses appeared over stall doors. "Morning, folks. Who's ready for some breakfast?" He paused and rubbed the forehead of a black mare. She nuzzled velvety lips against his palms. "Okay, okay. I got it. Food first. Affection later. Simple priorities. I get it. Eat. Move. Sleep. Repeat. Not so different than my life…minus all the complications."

Smiling to himself, he turned to get the feed and caught sight of Nova's windswept copper hair blowing in the breeze.

There was something different about her. A softness.

Arms folded, she stood in a beam of sunshine outside the threshold of the barn and wore a wide grin. "You always talk to animals?"

Booth traced the outline of his open mouth with his thumb and index finger. "Uh, yeah. It's another surprise talent of mine."

"Go figure. How'd you learn so much about horses?"

"Summer jobs." He shrugged, wanting to delve into her past rather than his. "You gonna stand out there watching or pitch in and?—"

A huge white horse kicked his gate, demanding his food. Nova startled, bumping the door latch hard enough to bang the interior siding. Booth dropped the feed scoop, and Nova jumped about six inches off the ground.

"Whoops, sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to add to your already tattered nerves."

"I'm a little…" Nova pressed her palm on her chest. "A little nervous around horses, is all."

"Oh. Well…c'mon in. They're hungry, but they won't bite."

Nova shook her head.

He lifted a shoulder. "I could use the help."

A subtle grin broke through. Still, she hesitated and stayed beyond the patched door, eyes locked on the white horse.

He walked over and took her hand. "You might be scared but?—"

"I'm not scared." She pulled her hand from his gasp. "It's not…that."

"Okay, how about this? You stay there, and I'll take care of feeding. At least this way, people won't make fun of me for talking to the animals." He grinned.

"Yes. I'll stay here." She pointed to the ground.

"So, uh, what's got you all spooked of these guys anyhow?"

Nova reached down and picked up a piece of hay. Wrapped it around her index finger.

"We were homesteaders, living in the mountains. My parents, they were everything. They created this haven for us. Dad was strong but also an artist. A true romantic. He didn't just bring us flowers. He'd spend hours in his pottery shed creating the perfect vase, then fill it with wildflowers and present it to my mom." Her eyes flashed bright with the memory.

"Mom, tough but tender. I swear that woman could do anything." Nova gave a tiny shake of her head. "She taught me everything from the alphabet to what plants were safe and which were poisonous.

"When I was eight, a wildfire had been burning for days. The hotshots thought they had it under control. It blew up. Surrounded us. We were trapped."

She paused. Bright red grooves appeared on her finger where she'd wound the hay tight before unraveling it.

He quenched the crazy urge to reach out to her.

"The animals were going crazy, the horses kicking and bucking, wanting out of their stalls. Dad put me on his horse, told me to hang on tight and not to stop until I crossed the river. He slapped her hindquarters, and we took off. That was the last time I saw my parents."

"That must have been…" Booth struggled to find the right words.

"Terrifying," she finished. "I rode that horse until exhaustion, but I made it across the river." She let the hay fall to the ground. "I never saw them again."

He swallowed hard. After that, he wasn't sure how she could face raging wildfires but not the animals that'd saved her life. Trauma did strange things to people, and it wasn't for Booth to judge how Nova carried hers with her every day. But matching what she'd gone through with the Nova he'd seen walking through fire to save lives made perfect sense.

"Know what's the worst part?" She drew an arc in the dirt with the toe of her boot.

There was a worse part?

"My mom was nine months pregnant." Her voice dipped low. "I've always wondered why he put me on that horse instead of her. He could've saved two lives…"

Booth knew a little something about the guilt Nova carried—the depth of loss, second-guessing a decision you made in a split second. It was enough to drive a person mad. "Your dad faced an impossible situation, and in that moment, he made a choice—an agonizing one. Sometimes, life throws us into situations where there are no good answers. I don't think it means you have to close yourself off."

"Funny you're the one saying that." She folded her arms. "Care to share something from your past?"

He stared at all the raw pain in her expression, knowing exactly what that felt like. Two words ran through his mind.

National security.

"That's what I thought." Nova turned and walked out of the barn.

Booth watched her leave.

Not only could he not tell her who he really was.

He also couldn't tell her why his past had to stay a secret.

Nova rushed from the barn before Booth could stop her.

Aria had told her to open herself up to what could be. As if that ever did anyone any good. This was just more proof that Booth wasn't going to change her life?—as much as she might want that to be true.

Last night, and again just now, her walls had cracked. Against her better judgment, she'd let Booth inside. Exposed her underbelly. Shown weakness.

And she already sensed how bad that could turn out.

The truth was, fire didn't frighten Nova anymore. The real threat, the vulnerability she fiercely guarded against, was the possibility of losing someone she loved in the flames.

Memories of her parents had left her with a painful throbbing deep in her soul. All she wanted to do was drop to her knees in a patch of scrub grass and suck deep lungfuls of clear mountain air until the pain retreated back to its dull ache.

Peace. She had to find peace.

But that required falling apart, confronting the pain and scars of her past. And she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet.

Stalks of dry grass crackled under her boots as she straightened. Get it together, Burns. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn't solve her problems.

Jude County's fire rescue trailer sat in front of Sophie's house. Good.

The command center would remind her of priorities—the family legacy she aimed to honor by making crew chief someday. It was the one relationship in which she'd risk everything, and right now she could get some work done to that end. Make sure Miles knew she was on the ball.

Tucker's absence was her opportunity to step things up. Prove herself.

The trailer door stood open, but she rapped her knuckles against the frame anyway. "Knock knock?"

Miles Dafoe, the county's fire commander, glanced up from a detailed topo map spread across the table. He had his shirt sleeves folded up and reading glasses perched on his nose. His dark hair had more salt than pepper in it these days. "Come on in."

She stepped inside, zeroing in on the Incident Status whiteboard listing resources in staging. "Looks like we're still sitting on four helicopters, three hotshot crews…"

"Yep, plus the three smokejumper loads already out." He tapped a Sharpie against pursed lips. "I was afraid we might need more air attack when that lightning blew through yesterday, but seems they've got the range fires pretty well contained."

"For now." She scanned scattered pins stuck in the map, denoting fire locations. "If this wind keeps up, though…"

"We're watching those storms, same as you. General briefings at 0700, 1300 and 1900 hours if you want the full weather and operations update."

She nodded. "Copy that."

Nova respected Miles. Some of the guys joked he was a little OCD about protocol and paperwork, but after twenty years working wildfires, Miles had a good reason for sweating the details.

Protocols saved lives.

Miles folded his arms. "How are Tucker's crews handling things?"

And there it was. The question that had needled since the accident that'd taken out their crew chief. Oh sure, Miles was sly about it, not coming right out and asking who he should tap for acting crew chief. But they both knew what he meant.

Her pulse kicked as she considered responses. Play it humble? Ultraconfident?

The line between capable and conceited was thin.

"Honestly?" She tempered her tone even as ambition burned hot. "The team needs a leader. I've stepped up. Tried to take the lead. But without someone in charge, we're not the cohesive unit Tucker built."

"Tucker runs a tight crew. Hate to see him laid up, but he knew something could go wrong out there at any moment. He's trained you to be smokejumpers he can count on."

Okay, so no glowing nominations yet. She tried another angle, hoping her readiness showed. "I'm happy to take on more responsibility wherever it helps most."

"With this wind, it's gonna be a chess match balancing containment with safety. Good leadership is key in the field." His hand went to his chin, scrutinizing her through narrowed eyes. "Here's the deal. I wanted to check the landscape before restructuring leadership. Tucker runs a top-notch crew deployment model. Hate tampering when it's not broke."

He raised his palms. "But maybe this unfortunate accident is the nudge we need to shake things up. Give capable prospects like yourself a chance to step up."

A smile teased the corner of her mouth at hearing exactly what she'd wanted. "Appreciate the vote of confidence."

"For now, I'll let the crew keep rolling as is." His mouth slanted. "Of course, that could change should we find the right person. You know your fires. Far more than most. But you also need to know how to manage and work with your team. How to trust them. Do that, and I'll see if you can take Tucker's place."

"Yes, sir." Nova turned to leave but halted midstep.

There, outside the corral, stood Booth. In the shade of the barn, his forearms rested atop the weathered rails. Laugh lines etched deeper as he watched the antics of the horses jostling in the field. He had a day's scruff and tousled, windblown hair. How someone could appear both soft and rugged at the same time baffled her.

He shifted sideways and caught sight of her. Lifted his chin and looked away.

She couldn't deny being attracted. But it wasn't only his physical appeal needling her determination. What really shook her was how he kept surprising her. Like listening to her story in the barn.

And frustrating her by telling none of his own.

But she'd been a little sensitive earlier, and blast if she didn't need to apologize for it.

Nova squared her shoulders and cut across the field, straight toward Booth. "Look, I'm sorry for walking away like that. It's just…" She sighed. "You're such a mystery. And I opened up something deep inside by telling you my story. Sure, most everyone knows my parents died, but they don't know how deep the wound goes. I didn't want you to see that side of me. That…weakness."

There was a full twenty seconds of silence. Nova swallowed and prepared to walk off when Booth finally spoke.

"You see that mare?" He pointed to the brown horse Nova had fed earlier. "The white guy keeps nipping but she doesn't flinch."

Nova studied the old horse, noting that tiny detail. "Yeah. She's got no reaction."

"Right. Total emotional resilience. My sister was like that." He paused. "I mean…in big, emotional moments, most people panic or freeze. But Raelynn always knew what to do. Saved my hide more times than I can count."

She glanced at him. "You have a sister?"

"Three years older than me." He snagged a tendril of hair blowing across his forehead and pushed it back. "I was an ornery little punk. Constantly getting in trouble."

"Now, that I believe." Nova smiled.

"Anyway…" He shifted sideways, one elbow resting on his bent knee so he faced her. His golden tone turned solemn.

The humor in her dissipated.

"When Raelynn was twelve, she wanted to be first across the lake soon as it froze. I warned her to wait till Dad checked it to be sure the ice was thick, but she laughed, calling me a sissy." Booth studied his palm, tracing lines only he could see.

In her mind, Nova could see a little girl with Booth's eyes, teasing her brother.

"I finally got up nerve to cross, but about fifteen yards from shore, I crashed through." He flexed his hand open and closed. "I'll never forget the sound. Sharp cracks like thunderclaps, and I plunged into that dark water. It happened so fast I didn't have time to breathe."

Nova's chest constricted. She could almost smell the cold. Hear the sound of water rushing in her ears. That helpless animal panic—the same panic she'd felt on that horse, fighting for her life.

"I managed to crawl back up, but I couldn't lift myself out. Raelynn army-crawled out and was trying to pull me up when the whole sheet gave way." He squeezed his eyes shut as if to block the images. "She had me almost out when it collapsed, taking her under. I used the broken shelf to get up, but she was too far down. By the time Dad got there, she…" His jaw hardened. "She'd been under too long."

Nova watched muscles pulse along his stubbled jaw. Her own chest squeezed, recognizing the bottomless guilt and crushing helplessness.

Before she could stop herself, she covered his fist with her palm. "You were just a kid, Booth. It couldn't be your fault."

"Maybe if I'd waited for Dad…or run faster to get help"—his shoulder jerked—"I could have saved her instead of myself."

"Did your dad blame you?"

"I don't know. We haven't spoken in five years, but not because of that. It's the job, you know?"

Nova did know. It was easy to get wrapped up in fire season. The crew became your family. "What about your mom?"

"Mom works long hours as an attorney, and I have a younger brother in law school. They spend a lot of time together. Have more in common. Last time I spoke to my father we had an argument. He said I should just get over what happened to Raelynn." Booth paused and Nova gave him time to finish. "I guess I don't know how to forget what happened and stop second-guessing that day."

Her next breath clogged hard in her chest. She gave his hand a fierce squeeze. "I know what it's like to live with saving yourself while someone else dies. People think time heals the hurt, but all it does is turn it into a specter, and we have to live with that. It haunts us the rest of our lives."

Blue eyes flashed understanding. "Yeah." His whisper softened. "Yeah, it does."

Their hands remained stacked. In a lot of ways, they were the same.

Nova hadn't realized that, but it made sense now. They both hesitated to let people below the surface. To where the sorrow lived.

Nova swiped her thumb over his knuckles, wishing she could erase the old scars. Wishing she were bold enough to climb inside his vault of pain and help him heal.

She cleared the gravel from her throat. "Guilt eats us alive, even when there's nothing we could have done differently."

Booth turned his palm up to cradle hers. Calluses aligning in a broken mosaic. "No matter how far I go, I can't seem to outrun my past mistakes."

Nova nodded. Since the fire that had taken her family, she'd only operated in survival mode, caging her deepest longings, protecting her heart behind fortified walls.

But at that moment, sitting with Booth, the walls looked more like a self-imposed prison.

Booth's thumb stroked tiny circles that sent a vibration up her arm.

A nicker snapped her gaze left. The brown mare bucked. Kicked her back feet and bucked again. The horse galloped toward them.

Nova's breath seized.

Then she was falling backward.

Nova crashed against the sun-warmed cotton covering Booth's chest. Muscled arms wrapped around her waist, bringing their faces inches apart.

Electricity arced in the airless space between them.

Towering over her, his soft blue eyes searched her face. "You okay?" A smile teased the edges of his mouth.

"Uh-huh." Pulse tapping, Nova's gaze drifted to his mouth, hovering close. Did he kiss as good as he smelled?

Whoa.

She blinked hard.

What was she thinking? Twenty-four hours ago, the man was driving her crazy.

Now, maybe a different kind of crazy.

He pulled her a fraction closer. Lips a breath apart. "You…sure?"

"Hey, Booth! You've got—" Sophie stopped dead in her tracks and stared at them. "Oh, um. Sorry." Flustered, she turned and bolted into the barn.

Great. Booth had been about to kiss her, and blast if she hadn't been about to let him.