Chapter 9

NINE

Perfect. Just Perfect. Booth had finally let himself open up to Nova—finally broken through her defenses—and now he had to walk away? Stupid. No way would she take him back when he finally finished all this and showed up.

Begging for forgiveness.

Okay, but wow. He hadn't expected that kiss. He'd wanted to kiss her, sure. Just…hadn't expected it.

Now he had to go rescue Crispin and end this with the taste of Nova on his lips. So sweet. But walking away was nothing but bitter.

Which meant he had limited time to get to jump base and find his gun.

But first, he needed to find a ride.

He jogged down the stairs and through the halls until he found the nurses' station in the ER.

"I'm looking for Eric Dale. He's with the Jude County Smokejumpers."

"Just released." The nurse didn't bother to look up. She pointed to the exit door with her pen. "If you hurry, you might be able to catch him."

Booth slapped his palm on the Formica counter. "Thanks."

Why was he forced to choose between his old life and this new one? He knew the reason.

He couldn't let Crispin die. Couldn't let the bad guys win any more than he could let a fire destroy a town. He'd already lost Crispin once. Thought his friend was dead and gone. He couldn't go through that again. The town needed him, but there were twenty-plus wildland firefighters working on it, with more to come. Who did Crispin have?

No one.

He pushed through the exit door into the parking garage, where he saw Eric walking arm in arm with his wife, Shelly.

He jogged over to him. "Hey, man, how you feeling?"

Eric held up his bandaged forearm. "Pretty good hot spot on my arm. I could probably work, but the doc is worried about infection."

"And you're going to listen to him this time." Shelly was a pretty brunette, petite enough to fit in the crook of Eric's arm. They had three children under the age of ten and lived in Ember to be close to Eric during fire season.

"Aw, Shelly knows I could've kept it covered and gone back to work. She just wants me home. You watch. She'll have a honey-do list a mile long. My arm won't be an excuse then."

Shelly nudged him in the ribs. "You know I stopped waiting around for you and started on the list myself. Anyway, Booth, how's Nova and Rico?"

"Nova's good. I think she'll be released to work today. Rico…well, he's not so hot, but the doc is optimistic about the surgery."

"He's tough," Eric said.

Booth nodded. "I think he'll pull through, but he's out for the season."

Eric scratched at the bandage on his arm. "What about you? Headed back to the line?"

"Yeah, but I have something to take care of first. I was hoping you could give me a ride to jump base so I can pick something up."

"Sure we can. Right, honey?" Eric looked to Shelly.

"Of course. We're parked right over here."

Eric and Shelly had quiet marriage talk in the front seat. Booth leaned against the window and tried to come up with a plan.

Whoever had taken Crispin had made a huge mistake. His past was calling, and Booth was more than ready to answer.

Shelly pulled into the lot of jump base and parked.

Booth leaned up and patted Eric's shoulder. "Thanks for the lift. Feel better."

"Stay safe, brother."

Booth got out and walked around the construction dumpster. Much of the front of the building had been demolished over the last few days, clearing out the charred remains of the structure so it could be built anew.

Funny, considering that's what he needed to do with his life.

He was ready for a fresh start. Booth wanted to see where things went with Nova, if she'd give him another shot. First, he had to rip out the charred remains of his old life once and for all. He could decide how to rebuild from there.

Go back to work in Homeland? Leave behind Jude County and smokejumping? Risk losing Nova forever? It was all too much to think about now.

The burner phone rang and Booth answered. "Talk."

"Bring Henry Snow to me," the man said.

"I keep trying to tell you, I don't know where he is," Booth said, walking inside. How would he know where his boss had been all these years?

"You're lyin'. You and Crispin are here to protect him. How about this? You bring Snow to me, and I'll think about lettin' you live." He horked a coughing laugh.

Booth started to deny the accusation, but it could work in his favor. Pretend to exchange Crispin for Snow.

He ducked under the restricted tape and ran to the ready room. "Look, I'll bring Snow, but I'm not doing anything until I know Crispin is okay."

The call disconnected.

Booth stopped by his locker and stared at the phone. Had he made a mistake? Pushed too hard?

The phone chimed with an incoming text.

Booth clicked it and saw a blurry photo of Crispin lying on a bare mattress on the floor. The bandage wrapped around his shoulder showed dried blood spots. Crispin's eyes were closed, his good arm handcuffed to the leg of a cast-iron wood stove.

When the phone rang, Booth answered it. "Not good enough. He could be dead in that picture."

The caller growled. "What do you suggest?"

"Tell me where you are. I'll come to you."

There was silence on the other end. Finally, he said, "Give me ten minutes. I'll text the location. Bring Snow or Crispin will die."

"It's going to take some time."

The call ended.

Booth shoved the phone back into his pocket and pulled a small metal box out of his locker. He put his hand in the grooves and waited for the fingerprint scanner to read his prints. There was a whirring sound as the mechanical lock released.

The lid squeaked open and he found his weapon there in a paddle holster. He clipped it inside his waistband and concealed it with his shirt. The cold weight of an extra magazine settled in his leg pocket.

Booth was sprinting for the airplane hangar, where he kept his motorcycle, when his burner phone chimed again.

A text with an address popped up.

He'd expected to be sent deep into the state forest, but the location was just north of Ember.

He cranked up the motorcycle and backed out of the hangar. His back tire kicked up gravel and he sped off.

Twenty minutes later, he turned off the rural route onto the narrow dirt road crowded with towering pines that needed to be cut back.

He rolled to a stop, cut the engine, and pushed his bike into the trees. Some brush coverage meant it wouldn't be seen from the road.

Booth weaved his way through the woods on foot, boots crunching on dead pine needles. Each step crackled as loud as gunfire in his ears. He ducked between the weathered trunks, seeking, searching. Crispin was here somewhere, being held against his will.

Or worse.

Booth clenched his teeth. He couldn't lose his friend again.

He drew his gun out of the holster and clicked the safety off. Pulled the slide back enough to see the glint of brass in the chamber.

Up ahead, a small rustic cabin was nestled in a stand of pines, a beat-up old pickup truck parked beside it. A muddy four-wheeler sat in the front yard. Upended logs encircled a campfire ring on the opposite side of the yard. The woodsy smell of a still-smoldering fire permeated the area.

Someone had been here not long ago.

Easing back into the brush's camouflage, Booth picked his way through the trees until he was beside the truck. He checked the cab. Empty.

Trash filled the truck bed. Crushed beer cans, an old shovel, fast-food wrappers, sandbags probably left over from winter, and a metal gas can.

Booth crept around the cabin and peered in the back window. Crispin lay unmoving on a ratty mattress. Just like with the photo, Booth couldn't tell if he was unconscious or dead. Then he saw it. The slow rise and fall of his chest.

For now, Crispin was alive.

In the cabin's small kitchen, a man with a sloped forehead and small coal-black eyes poured coffee into a chipped mug. A chain hung from his leather belt. He'd cut the sleeves off his T-shirt to expose the tattoos up and down his arms. Military bearing. Confident. Dangerous.

Floyd Blackwell.

Booth gritted his teeth. Eyes narrowed, he scanned the silent cabin once more. Floyd and Crispin were alone.

Booth sneaked back to the truck and crouched beside the front tire. His jaw ticked as a plan took shape.

He had an idea.

A dangerous one.

The roar of the airplane engines did nothing to drown out Nova's pulse pounding in her ears. She was so dumb.

She'd taken a huge risk. Opened herself to the idea of falling for Booth. Laid it all on the line, and he'd left her standing there holding her heart in her hands.

And could she even blame him?

The man was saving the world.

"Hey, kid." Aria's voice came over Nova's headset. "Come chat for a sec."

Nova picked her way to the cockpit, stepping over the other jumpers and scooting around the cargo. The plane was stuffed tight with six new guys in from Alaska. They'd flown in to assist before the fire reached the small town of Snowhaven. Finn and Nova were the only smokejumpers from Jude County who weren't either out with an injury or already out on the fire line.

Except Booth.

Who knew where he was?

Once Dr. Zamudio had cleared her to go back to work, Nova had tried to track him down, but her calls and texts went unanswered. That was nothing new. Booth was the worst at answering his phone. The crew needed his help, but the fire wouldn't wait. So she'd loaded up and headed to do what she did best. Wildfire fighting.

Nova ducked into the cockpit and sat in the empty copilot seat. She buckled in and took in the view. White-capped mountains and rolling green hills spread out as far as she could see. "Wow."

"Best seat in the house." Aria gave her a long look that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. "Except something's going on with you."

Nova picked at a callus on her thumb. "I'm just annoyed, that's all."

"Booth isn't here. You're storming around being short with everyone." Aria tapped her finger to her temple. "I'm a smart cookie. I can put the two together. What's up?"

She wasn't that transparent. Aria just knew her better than anyone else. Nova couldn't give her the full story, but she had to give her something. "I kissed Booth."

Aria's eyes went wide. "And?"

"And…nothing." She folded her arms. "He's not here."

"So, nothing has got you all bristled?" She flashed a look of disbelief. "For real. Out with it."

Fine. Venting to Aria always seemed to help, and she'd end up telling her at some point. "We were at the hospital and started talking. I don't know what came over me, but…I kissed him." She smiled at the memory. The warmth of his lips. The strength of his hands around her shoulders. A moment where she'd felt safe. But it had been over before it'd started. "He took a call and had to rush off."

"He didn't say why?"

Nova shook her head. "It was clear the call was important, but…I don't know." If she were honest, she was mad at herself for feeling something.

"Wow, I can't believe you kissed him . Bold. Way to go. I'm proud of you, girl." She reached over and patted her thigh. "So…how was it?"

Nova's face betrayed her with a big goofy grin. "Fantastic."

Aria smiled. She flipped a switch and radioed the fire boss to let them know they'd be approaching in twenty minutes. "So are you guys a couple now?"

"No, and I don't think we ever will be. Relationships are too complicated. Sure, it was nice, but it's got me all distracted. You know that's a problem for jumpers."

"Speaking of—you guys should start your buddy checks. We're dealing with erratic winds, and things are gonna be rough."

"That high north wind is blowing the fires together." Nova released her buckle and stood hunched in the cockpit. "We'll get it, but say a prayer for us."

"Always," Aria said.

Nova crawled back to the stone-faced Alaskan jumpers, and minutes later, the plane descended to work out the pattern for the drop. The spotter pulled open the door, and the air roared in. Nova and the other jumpers did their equipment checks while the spotter assessed conditions.

After the streamers, the spotter turned to Nova and Finn with a rather grim look on his face. "It looks pretty bad, but I think you can handle it. Just don't land between the fires. With all the smoke, you won't be able to see where you're going. If things get tricky, go long, and stay wide of the bluff. Last thing we need is one of you falling off a cliff."

Nova glanced at Finn, who was securing his gear with a deep crease between his brows. Something in his demeanor seemed off today. "You good?" she asked over the roar of the propellers.

Finn gave a curt nod, not quite meeting her gaze. Before she could question him further, the spotter yelled for them to get in the door.

The afternoon sun streaked crimson across the smoke-filled sky. Nova dropped into the open door. Her heart hammered in her chest, but she lived for these moments.

The spotter gave her the slap, and she pushed off, tumbling out into space at ninety miles an hour. She tracked away from the plane, giving Finn plenty of room as she tried to orient herself. Descending into the smoke, she got shoved west, then north by the wind.

The world spun around her, and Nova lost the jump spot. "Blast it!"

After counting off the seconds, she pulled her ripcord and got flung back up when the canopy deployed. Wind swirled around the head of the main fire, playing havoc with all sense of control, dragging her like she was nothing. No strength to fight it. No control.

She pulled hard on the toggles, trying to spill air from the chute and slow her descent. But nothing could stop her helpless trajectory toward the towering Douglas firs.

She couldn't see a thing except how close she was to the enormous treetops.

A blood-curdling shout pierced the roaring wind.

Nova jerked her gaze upward to see Finn hurtling straight toward her. His undeployed chute streamed uselessly above him.

Before she could even suck in a breath to scream, Finn crashed into her billowing canopy.

Nova's chute collapsed. Tangled together, they fell in an uncontrolled plunge.

"Finn!" They spun in free fall. "Reserve! Reserve!"

Finn's body hung limp. His chin lolling on his chest.

"Finn! Finn!" Nova screamed to no avail. "Wake up! Pull your reserve!"

Air buffeted them as they rocketed toward the trees on the ground, standing in rows like spears of an invading army. They needed to separate somehow, or they'd both die.

Finn was still unconscious. Nova had no choice but to get free on her own and pray the automatic activation device deployed his reserve. If it didn't, she would be saving herself and condemning him to death.

Knots drew tight in her stomach. She clawed at Finn's rig, managing to yank his cut-away handle to jettison his main chute.

"Reserve, Finn!" she shrieked one last time.

Gritting her teeth, she yanked her own cutaway handle. Slipped. Caught on the lines. Kicked and struggled until she fell away.

Nova's pulse hammered. She activated her emergency reserve. Felt the crack of it inflating. The familiar tug of her parachute unfurling. The canopy caught and slowed her descent.

In the same heartbeat, she glimpsed Finn still hurtling, deadweight, toward the jagged trees below.

"No! Oh, God! Finn! Fiiiinn!" Why wasn't his AAD working?

Time was running out. If it didn't deploy soon—oh, God, help him.

Like an answer to her frenzied prayers, his automated backup kicked in, cracking open mere feet above the raging inferno below. Finn's battered body soared over a stand of burning firs and disappeared into the swirling smoke.

Tears streamed down her face.

Gasping, she maneuvered her parachute away from the flames. What had she done? Why had she cut away?

She knew why. It was the protocol for entanglements. Still…she'd tried to save them both. Instead, she'd almost certainly caused Finn's death.

Nova choked back a sob. She had to focus or she'd suffer the same fate. After wiping a tear, she turned her attention to navigating toward a clearing on the edge of the burn.

The wind continued to drive the fire. Flames roared at the edge of the drop zone, thrusting waves of blistering air upward and wreaking havoc with her ability to control the descent.

This landing was not going to be pretty.

She fought to tame the bucking parachute as she neared the treetops, aiming for a slender gap in the fire. A sudden thermal grabbed the canopy, dragging Nova sideways despite all her efforts. The wind propelled her over the brink of a sheer rock face concealed by the dense smoke.

Nova spilled every bit of air possible from her chute in an attempt to stall her forward movement as she lost altitude. But the merciless updraft shoved her out over what she could now see was a treacherous canyon glowing red with advancing flames below. Facing the horrifying prospect of being dumped into the inferno, she cut away the last of her rigging just as it dragged her over the precipice.

Her breath caught as she braced herself for impact.

A scream tore from her throat as she plunged toward the canyon floor. She clawed at crumbling shale, her nails tearing, finding no purchase on the frictionless grade. A sharp pain tore through the sleeve of her fire shirt. She tumbled down and slammed onto a narrow ledge.

Her helmet cracked against stone.

Nova slid over the edge.