Chapter 2

“We have a bay next door.” The nurse waved at the wall. “We can get you checked out as well. The doctor will be free soon.”

Charlie froze. Standing at the end of the bed had been a bad choice. He should’ve had Orion come in here with Houston while Charlie checked in with their incident commander.

Houston’s half an eyebrow rose. He had a scratch down the side of his face and neck, abrasions on his arms, and a split lip.

Charlie looked at the nurse. “I’m not the one who fell in a hole in the ground.”

Houston snorted. “You called Sophie, right?”

Charlie nodded. “She’s on her way.” He’d had to talk her through the initial panic and reassure her that Houston might be grazed and a bit banged up, but mostly it was just a ploy to get back to town so he could see her, even if it was because she was visiting him at the hospital. She’d laughed, and he’d known then she was good to drive herself.

The nurse eyed him. “You sure you’re good, Hotshot?”

Charlie said, “I’ve got it handled.”

She left the room.

“You’ve got what handled?” Houston lay back in the bed, his hotshot clothes getting dirt all over the sheets. “Don’t worry. No one else noticed, I don’t think.”

“How did you?” Charlie gripped the rail at the end of the bed.

“I’m a little more people focused than most. You aren’t okay, Charlie.”

Unsurprising he’d figured this out, considering Houston had been a pastor before this summer of firefighting and he would probably return to that vocation right after.

“What is it?” Houston asked.

Charlie ducked his head, hardly wanting to say the words kidney disease . He looked up. “Like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

Houston studied him for a moment. “I’m around. If you wanna talk about it.”

Charlie shook his hand. “Thanks.”

Houston’s brother had been Charlie’s fire chief in Last Chance County. Between Logan—a smokejumper for the summer season—and Houston, and a more recent transplant, Dakota Masterson, there was entirely too much of home here. He’d tried to escape somewhere no one would care. That had hardly happened when he had people here who definitely did.

But when the alternative was to push everyone away, what was he supposed to do?

“Don’t worry about me.” Charlie headed for the exit and found Orion on the sidewalk, pacing, phone to his ear. Over the mountains in the distance, he could see the plume of wildfire smoke, but all he could smell were the lavender bushes in planters on either side of the automatic doors.

“Copy that, Commander.” Orion turned sideways and Charlie got a look at his profile.

It never failed to hit him how much the young man favored his mother in the line of his nose and his blue eyes. But there was something else in the kid. Something his father had given him that Charlie couldn’t let go of.

Orion said, “We’ll head there now.”

Charlie lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun.

Orion hung up the phone. “We’re going to the camp so we can help evacuate if it comes to that. Miles has been trying to reach my mom on the camp phone, but there’s no answer.”

“Did you try her cell?”

Orion nodded. “If they’re out on a hike, there are spots where there’s no signal. Could be they’re just in a dead zone.”

“All right.” Charlie handed over the keys.

Much as he’d like to have occupied himself with the task of driving Conner’s truck, he needed to rest, or his body would shut down for the day.

It would take the better part of an hour to get to the camp. Charlie buckled up and put his head back. “Wanna tell me what’s up between you and your mom?”

The kid was a good firefighter. He loved the job as much as he loved this land, something Charlie couldn’t say about any piece of geography on the map.

That camp was the closest Charlie had come to loving anything until the day Alexis had grabbed ahold of his heart. The minute she’d wrapped her tiny newborn hand around his finger, he was a goner. And from that moment on, Helena had used their child as a weapon against him.

When it became clear how it affected Alexis to be in the middle like that, he’d filed for divorce.

Helena had driven a wedge between them.

Orion looked over. “Do you want to talk about you and Alexis and how you dropped your kid off at camp and haven’t talked to her since?”

Charlie stared out the window. They drove past Hot Cakes Bakery. Farther through town, the Hotline, a local bar and grill, had a nearly full parking lot even though it was still early evening. The favorite hangout of hotshots and smokejumpers and all their support personnel, and groupies he had no interest in.

“That’s what I thought.”

Charlie didn’t want to leave it like that. Maybe someone should hear it from him, since he hadn’t ever told anyone at the Eastside Firehouse what the deal was with his personal life.

“It’s complicated.” Charlie let out a long breath. “My ex? We got divorced before Alexis turned six. I barely saw my daughter after that, even though I was supposed to have alternating weekends.”

He saw Orion glance over.

“Helena used my firefighter schedule as a weapon. Said a child needed more stability.” Charlie squeezed his knees. “Alexis was nine when the neighbor called 911 because the stove was on fire. Helena had been out for more than a day, and Alexis was making herself dinner, but it’d spilled over and caught fire.”

“Did you get custody after that?” Orion’s voice had softened.

“The judge was her boyfriend’s father. He ruled in her favor. I got even less allotted time with her than I’d had before. I found whatever ways I could to see her. Volunteering at her school on my days off, working as a janitor. Showing her how she could ride her bike to the firehouse in the summer, when her mom was at work.” Charlie shook his head. “Her mom had all that time to get in her head. Alexis would say things, and it was Helena’s words that came out of her mouth.”

“So she poisoned her against you.”

“Her points weren’t without merit.” Charlie shifted far enough to dig in his pocket. “I had bad periods. Seasons where I figured, what was the point? If that’s what she wanted to tell everyone, then why bother trying to prove her wrong when no one believed it.” He held up the chip. “Six years sober.”

“Wow. Congratulations.”

Charlie tucked it away. “Why did you want to be a firefighter?”

“My grandpa was a smokejumper. Mom doesn’t like to talk about it, but I read the reports. It was a tragic accident.” He gripped the wheel with both hands. “I grew up at the camp. By the time I was twelve, I knew there was nothing else I wanted to do.”

“Me too.” Charlie hadn’t found value in anything else. “My dad was a Vietnam vet. Cranky drunk, and a violent one. My grandpa, World War II, but with less booze and more Jesus. He took me to church while my dad slept off his Saturday night benders.”

Orion took a turn off the highway. It should’ve looked familiar to Charlie, but it had been too long.

Would Jayne look familiar?

He glanced at Orion.

The kid said, “That was quick thinking, with Houston.”

Charlie shrugged. “Ten years on rescue squad.”

“And you never wanted to be a lieutenant?”

“They don’t promote guys like me.”

“Why come here for the summer?” Orion slowed as the asphalt turned to packed-down dirt and gravel.

Vegetation on the sides of the road had been cleared. The long, dry spring had bowed to a hot summer. They needed rain, but the forecast was nothing but hot winds and clear skies.

He spotted something between the trees. People, or deer. Whoever—or whatever—it was, they were gone nearly as fast as they’d come.

Charlie said, “Montana seemed like a good place to be.”

Orion pulled into the camp, under the wood beam with WILDLANDS ACADEMY carved into it. A huge lodge to the left, three cabins to the right. Barns and outbuildings. Even a tire swing.

Years fell away, and he could see her in his mind. Feel her blonde hair between his fingers. He could almost taste her smile.

You’re going to get me in trouble, Benning.

And he had. The two of them had nearly been kicked out of camp.

“Let’s check the lodge.” Orion shoved the car in Park. “If they’re out, it should be on the schedule.”

Charlie followed him through the door into the alcove. “Smells the same.”

Orion glanced over. “You’ve been here?”

Charlie found the wall of photos and walked along until he found the right year. He tapped the photo with his index finger. “Summer before senior year.”

“That was the year my mom was here.” Orion frowned.

Charlie turned to him. “I knew her.”

Orion said, “We don’t have time for memory lane. We need to find them so we can make sure they’re safe. You felt the winds changing.”

He had. “Where are they?”

Orion showed him the map on the wall. “We should take ATVs, or we’ll be hiking for hours. You don’t look like you’ve got ten miles in you. You look like you need a nap, old man.” The kid clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll grab some food so we can get your energy up.”

Charlie said, “I’m not hungry,” and headed for the door.

“Don’t leave without me.”

His grip snagged the door handle, and he turned to look at Orion’s retreating back. “Doesn’t matter what I do, kid. This fire will blow up anyway.”

And he wasn’t talking about the one in the forest.

He’d tried to avoid coming to Wildlands Academy when she was there, and now he was going to run into Jayne whether he wanted to or not. No way that wouldn’t end in an inferno of anger and hurt feelings over the way he’d left it years ago—and what he wanted from her now. He might know how to put out a blaze of heat and destruction. That was his job.

But this was personal.

* * *

The singing had died down several minutes ago, and Jayne hadn’t started a new song. She wanted to sing “It Is Well,” the hymn she had held dear to her heart for years, but an upbeat song proved more effective at lifting spirits over a long hike.

Alexis trailed behind her, not saying anything. Bridget led the group, and Jayne brought up the rear as they hiked the deer trail back to camp. She kept glancing back but didn’t know what to say to Alexis. She should be focusing on keeping the kids safe right now rather than the emotional state of one teen.

The orange sun hung low in the hazy afternoon sky. Warm wind whipped at the strands that had come loose from her ponytail.

Jayne might have raised a boy, but she’d mentored enough teen girls to know that whatever was going on might blow over by the time they got back to camp. Alexis could bounce back to engaged and willing to participate rather than the standoffish teen behind Jayne right now. She had to draw a line between instructor and friend on occasion—like when she’d told them the story of herself and Charlie last night.

Usually she didn’t mention his name, and she had no idea why it’d slipped out. Even Orion didn’t know his father’s name. She’d never given it to him, and he’d never asked—though she’d offered to tell him whatever he wanted to know. He’d told her that he hadn’t needed a father growing up and didn’t need one now that he was an adult.

Cue heartbreak.

He had mentors and father figures of his own. But the dream of a family had never died, even if her life indicated that it wouldn’t happen.

A girl in front of her, Shelly from Alaska, glanced back. She’d been in a pretty intense conversation with Aria, who knew Alexis from Last Chance County, but now said, “Do you think we’ll need to evacuate the camp?”

“It’s possible. I’ll know the moment they upgrade us to evacuation status, and there’s plenty to do with the time until then.”

Shelly slowed so she could walk beside Jayne. “Has the camp ever burned down before?”

“A long time ago.” The year Orion turned seven. “Since then, we’ve reconfigured a lot of things and made it as hard as possible for any fire in the area to reach the structures.”

It meant the space around the buildings had little shade from trees, but the tradeoff was that fire had nothing to jump to between the trees and the buildings—all of which had metal roofs.

“My dad is a hotshot for the team where I live in Alaska. Their whole headquarters burned down last year, so the firefighters set up camp in the field behind our house.” She grinned. “I made coffee all day and all night for, like, three weeks until they’d suppressed the fire enough to start rebuilding.”

Jayne said, “A lot of people think they have to do big things in order to make a difference in the world. Sometimes it’s small things, like making coffee for a group of firefighters, that keeps everything running.”

Alexis snorted behind her. “The firehouse where my dad works always smells like coffee. But it never tastes any good. More like it’s been sitting there too long.”

“You hang out there when he’s working?” She hadn’t said much about her dad, who had dropped her off at camp the morning Jayne was in town picking up the groceries. She’d said more about her mom’s tough battle with cancer, though she’d cut off the conversation as soon as they got close to the grief.

Jayne didn’t know who Alexis Martin’s father was, but the girl acted a whole lot like she had no one in her life to support her. She’d like to chat with the guy when he picked her up at the end of summer. Maybe even give him a piece of her mind.

Jayne’s phone started to buzz in her pocket. “Looks like we’ve got our signal back.” Much of the area had no cell signal, but this ridge got them within the tower’s coverage. She pulled it out—and so did every single teen on the trail. “Don’t trip ’cause you’re staring at your phone.”

Her notifications loaded. Missed calls. Text messages from Orion. A weather update from NIFC?—the National Interagency Fire Center headquartered in Boise. Notifications from the BLM and the Ember Incident Commander.

She looked at the ones from Orion first.

Orion

Fire headed to camp. On our way.

Then another:

Saw you’re up at the river today. Headed to you on ATVs.

He was coming here?

She could text back, but if he was driving one of the ATVs they kept at camp, she didn’t need to distract him.

She went into her maps app and shared her location with him, just so he would get an accurate update while she had connection.

“Lake!”

The shout came from the front of the line so the kids would know they were in sight of the lake.

Immediately the line started moving faster. A couple of kids—the twins, Samuel and Joshua Masterson, whose parents were on a search and rescue team based out of Benson, Washington, where they lived—raced to the lake with another boy, Tiger Christiansen, and they all waded in fully clothed so they could cool off.

Others stood by the bank so the ones in the water could splash them. Mostly it turned into the boys flinging handfuls of water and the girls squealing.

Jayne stuck to the dirt path between the storage sheds and the rocky shore, smiling at their antics. They kept the kayaks locked up most of the time but took them out often to let the kids take a break from training to blow off steam. They all had work to do at the camp, but she never begrudged them a second to cool off. They’d worked hard today.

One of the boys pulled himself up onto the floating dock at least a quarter mile toward the middle of the lake and pumped his arms in the air. He did a backflip off the dock back into the water in full view of the girls.

Jayne dropped her pack and leaned against the shed in the shade, doing a quick head count of teens and staff.

The camp was another mile down the trail, which most of the boys would run in their wet socks, carrying their boots so they didn’t get damp.

Her phone buzzed with a text.

Orion

You’re closer than I thought. Doubling back.

She scanned around the lake.

A helicopter crested the mountain on the far side of the lake, carrying a water container. It flew low, left to right, behind her designated swim area, and picked up water.

The kids on the bank, and the two on the dock now, all cheered as the helicopter lifted up and headed to dump the water on fire nearby.

Jayne waved.

She spotted movement on the opposite edge of the lake, where a trail snaked around the bank in the trees.

Moving fast, like an ATV—two of them.

She kept scanning and didn’t see movement at the cabins she rented out—no sign of the mysterious resident who had shown up a few weeks ago with barely an explanation as to why he couldn’t have booked online. She’d thought about contacting the sheriff, but the guy seemed exhausted more than anything else. He’d left the camp alone and they’d reciprocated.

Though, she had sent a copy of his driver’s license to the sheriff. Hutchinson hadn’t called her back with any issues on the guy’s name.

An ATV emerged from the trees. Orion. Behind him, another firefighter drove the second ATV.

She pushed off the shed but didn’t go far out of the shade as they headed toward her down the trail. Alexis turned from the group she stood with and strode over for some reason.

Jayne lifted her hand and quietly thanked God for the chance to speak with her son after so much silence.

She got a look at the man behind him, and her legs nearly gave out. She stumbled back a step. Dark-brown hair that needed cutting, a day or two of beard growth that made him look grizzly. Those shoulders he’d had at seventeen were broader now, even if he was slender.

No. Why was he here? That uniform. He filled it out like a man comfortable with who he was. Charlie Benning was a hotshot with Orion. They had to have been working together all summer. Did that mean he knew…

Alexis came to stand beside Jayne. “I guess you’re surprised to see him. The boyfriend from your cautionary tale.”

Jayne choked on a whimper. Charlie.

“Mom?” Orion hopped off the ATV.

Charlie killed the engine on his and did the same, still lean and muscled like he had been at seventeen. But where the boy she’d known used to be, now there was a man.

She put her hand on her front. He was really here, and after she’d spent years wishing he would show back up. Wishing she could tell him. Lord… Did she have the right to ask for help?

“Dad?” Alexis stared as he walked over. “Why are you…how much weight have you lost since fire season started?”

He didn’t answer her. He stared at Jayne, and she surveyed his dark hair, threads of silver on his temples. The lines of decades of firefighting on his face. The shadow of loss she knew well. My mom died right after Christmas. She stared at him, knowing what he saw. She was dirty from the hike, covered in ash, her hair braided back and probably all disheveled by now. Old boots and worn hands.

“Okay, so this is Charlie’s daughter. What else is going on? Mom, you okay?”

Orion’s question jerked her attention around. “Ry…”

Before Jayne could say anything else, Alexis did. “We should probably talk.”

Orion glanced at her, giving a tight shake of his head. “Why is that?”

Alexis set a hand on her hip. “Because I think you’re my brother. The son of Jayne and the boyfriend in her cautionary tale . My dad.”

Her son turned around to her. The man who was once the boy who had torn her heart to shreds did the same. Charlie looked at Orion, and then back at her, a kind of wonder on his face mixed with anger. A sick feeling roiled in her stomach.

Charlie said, “Jayne.”

“Mom.” Orion’s face reddened. His hands balled into fists by his sides. “Is she right? Is…is Charlie my father?”

She could see the matched expressions on their faces. You never told me.

Jayne’s stomach clenched. “Yes. Charlie is your father.”

She looked from him to the man beside him. “Charlie, this is your son.”