Chapter 4

Flames licked into the sky, visible above the trees before Charlie even turned the corner on the ATV. Just over a mile away thanks to the switchback in the road, he spotted it.

A propane truck on its side, fully engulfed. As he sped toward the vehicle, he assessed the whole scene and the area around it.

He pulled up, stopping the ATV at a safe distance, and dug out his phone, fumbling the buttons but managing to get the call going.

“Commander Dafoe.”

Miles. “Commander, it’s Charlie Benning. I need fire response to my location. There’s a propane truck blocking the road up to the camp, fully engulfed. Possible casualties.”

He didn’t see the driver or another vehicle. How had it exploded?

The flames would die down when the natural gas had burned away, but by then it could be too late.

“Sparks and embers are hitting trees on both sides of the road.” And all the campers were trapped up the hill. “If we don’t get this thing suppressed, we’ll have another wildfire on our hands.”

“Copy that, Benning.” Miles sounded like he was on the move. “We’re stretched thin, and you’re too far out from town resources. I’ll call the BLM, but you and Price take the lead. This is what those kids train to do. They’ll help.”

A siren sounded behind him from the direction of camp.

Charlie twisted around to see an old rural fire truck pull up. The driver’s door opened, and Orion jumped out. “Let’s get to work, everyone.”

Jayne jumped out of the passenger side and started calling out names. “Aria, Tiger, you’re on the hose.”

Miles said, “Anything else?”

Charlie turned back to the fire. “See if you can get me a retardant drop. It’s not worth the risk of this getting away from us.”

“I’ll make the call.”

“Thanks, Commander.”

Miles hung up.

Orion came to stand by Charlie and nodded. “Good call.”

“I don’t like this.” And he felt odd in wildland firefighting gear rather than the turnout coat and pants, helmet, and air tank he had carried for years.

Two of the teens raced by with a hose. Someone called back, and they knelt. Water jetted from the end of the hose. They worked with efficiency and competence.

Huh.

Alexis came over to him. “Here.” She held out a Pulaski. “We should do what we can to keep the trees from catching, right?”

“I’ll get the chain saw.” Orion jogged back to the truck.

“We need to clear anything that might bridge between the flames on the truck and the fuel in the forest.”

Alexis ran for the front end of the truck, parked nose to the trees.

Charlie turned to Jayne, who had pulled a handkerchief over her mouth. “Guess that makes you incident commander.” He jogged after Alexis toward the trees.

The engine hadn’t blown, but the truck lay on its side perpendicular to the road. “We need to get the driver out.”

“Then we’ll need to get around the other side and make sure there are no other people here with injuries, right?” she said. “Once the fire is out, we can climb up and look in the cab.”

“It’ll be me doing that. Not someone whose guardian had to sign a waiver.”

Alexis shot him a look.

The breather from that whole Jayne/Orion thing might taste a whole lot like fresh smoke, but being with her was what he’d wanted more than anything.

Alexis with him. It was all he’d ever wanted.

She held on to a Pulaski. “So, what do we do, boss?”

He chuckled. “Clear the ground.”

Whoever maintained this road had done a solid job of getting brush off the shoulder. But where the trees began, the earth was swallowed up by thick bramble, with thorns that would shred clothes but which also grew ripe berries he had snacked on many times so far this summer.

“Clear the lower branches too. Right?”

He nodded. “That’s right.” Then he looked up where the front end of the truck almost touched a tree. “And we need to watch this oil leaking from the engine. Make sure that if it catches fire, we don’t go up with it.” He blew out a breath. “This should be a hazmat team, two fire trucks, and the fire chief on scene.”

“Welcome to Montana.” One of the teen boys strode over, his helmet drooping over one eye. “We do things ourselves up here.”

Charlie said, “Dig a trench. Don’t let that oil get to the pine needles. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” The kid dug his shovel into the ground.

Charlie looked at Alexis. “You good?”

“Uh, what?” Her cheeks flushed. The first sign of life he’d seen from her in months. Because of a boy?

Sure, there had been plenty of life in her when she’d told Orion he was her brother, but that had dissipated quickly.

Charlie had been on the cusp of figuring it out himself. But he hadn’t put together who Orion was to him, so it hardly counted. He glanced back at Orion. His teammate and colleague.

His son.

On the far side of the street, Orion lopped branches off the tree. The top was already alight. They needed it to fall away from the other trees.

Charlie pulled off his gloves. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

Orion turned. Charlie motioned to the tree, then made a cutting motion and pointed at the middle of the street on the far side of the truck.

Orion nodded.

Jayne had the kids focused on the blaze. She patted the shoulder of the one battling flames with the hose. “Focus that to the front now. The dirt around the engine needs to be soaked.”

Charlie left Alexis to her job, pulled his gloves back on, and climbed on the truck wheel, which radiated heat. He hauled himself up to the very top and looked over at the underside of the truck.

No second vehicle, like so many of the traffic fires he’d dealt with in his career. Accidents where one person had collided into another for varying reasons and caused a disaster. He turned and looked up the road, where Jayne stood watching him. Then at the ground around the truck.

This made no sense.

What on earth had caused the propane tank to explode before it could make its delivery and refill the camp tank? These things were designed to be as safe as possible.

He picked his way to the passenger door, which faced the sky. If the driver was still alive, Charlie could call for a helicopter.

Charlie pulled the handle and got the door open. He looked in. Winced.

The driver lay crumpled against the door at the bottom of the cab.

Charlie turned and caught Jayne’s gaze. He shook his head.

“Heads up!” Orion repeated that two more times. “Tree falling!”

The burning tree shook, then started to ease over toward the ground, picking up speed as it fell.

It hit the dirt and gravel mix at the center of the road and exploded.

The ground sprayed up in a shower of dirt. Concussive force smacked Charlie, and he flew backward. This is it. At least he had the letter in his pocket for?—

His body hit the dirt and he blinked up at the sky.

“Daaaaad!” Alexis slammed to her knees beside him.

He coughed. Black spots erupted like fireworks.

“You should breathe. You need to breathe, okay?”

The fire. The camp kids.

Jayne. Orion.

Charlie looked up at Alexis, who had tears in her eyes. Like the ones that he’d seen in Jayne’s. Alexis gripped his hand. “Dad!”

He gasped, then coughed again. Then sucked in a breath. He focused on even breaths, in and out. Until he could say, “I’m good.”

He gripped her hand and sat up, letting out a moan.

“Don’t stand up. Just stay there.” She held on to his hand.

“Charlie, you good?” Orion came over and crouched.

He managed to nod.

Someone said, “Land mine.”

“What are you talking about, Tiger?” Alexis asked.

“That’s what blew the tanker.” One of the teens moved into view. “When I saw the tree blow, I recognized it from a video I saw online. Someone buried a mine in the road, and it blew the tanker.”

“More than one,” Orion said. “If a second device blew the tree.”

“Land mines?” Alexis shifted in her crouch. “What on earth?”

He’d been thinking the same thing. Charlie grunted. “Is the fire out?”

Jayne touched his shoulder. “Almost. What about the driver?”

“He didn’t make it.” Charlie looked around to where the teens worked the scene, clearing vegetation in danger of catching fire. Showing the level of training they’d had in their movements.

“We should request a medical chopper here. Get you taken to the hospital.” Jayne sounded scared. “But if there are land mines in the road, we can’t ask them to land and take the risk. We need to clear the area, backtrack our steps and get out of here.”

Orion said, “The propane truck is blocking the road out. So unless we have a medical emergency on our hands, we might need to sit tight and wait.”

“We don’t.”

Orion studied Charlie for a second, and Charlie wondered if he saw the intention in him. Orion said, “We can get you back to camp, at least. Have the nurse check you out?”

“His heart rate isn’t too elevated.”

He whipped his head around to Alexis. “That’s why you’re holding my hand?”

“I’m gonna check for a concussion now. Are you going to freak out about that too?” Alexis turned on the flashlight on her phone. “How does your head feel?”

He stared at her.

“What hurts, and how bad is it?” She shone the light in his eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”

He blinked against the glare. “What is happening?”

“I’m trying to figure out if you gave yourself a concussion with that backward dive off the tanker that scared the life out of me.”

Charlie touched her cheek with his glove. “Everything is going to be fine.”

She scrunched up her nose. “You’re supposed to tell me you’re fine.”

But he wasn’t.

And they would both know it was a lie.

* * *

“Call your parents.” A couple of kids groaned, but most already had contacted their folks. Jayne had sent out a text update to the listed parents in her files, informing them what happened with the tanker.

Orion had stayed with the ATV at the site so he could meet the emergency responders to pull the driver’s body out. The rest of them had brought Charlie back so he could recuperate from taking that hit.

She’d checked on him a short time ago and found Alexis in there, the two of them having a quiet conversation that seemed serious.

Jayne had left them alone.

She faced the kids now, gathered in the common room where they had more than one kind of game console and a huge flatscreen TV. “Let your parents see your faces so they know you’re okay. Walk around and show them all the safeguards we have in place that protect us from fire.”

The oven buzzed from the kitchen behind her, loud enough that everyone heard it. She grinned. “And then we’ll have chocolate cake.”

A cheer went up.

“Dinner is in an hour.”

Jayne headed back to the kitchen, where she had the trays already laid out. Ham. Cheese. Rolls. Butter. Always better after they’d been cooked in the oven.

Orion had told her that one of the hotshots made a mac and cheese that everyone apparently raved over.

She wondered if they’d hear about her sandwiches, but that was ridiculous. She didn’t live in their world. She lived up here, where she didn’t have to worry about who survived—or didn’t.

At least, not before today, when Charlie flew through the air. Or before that, when she realized he was here, working as one of the Ember hotshots.

Sure, it should’ve hit her that Orion was in danger every day of summer. But she’d trained him more than the Ember fire command had. Her son knew how to keep himself safe.

So long as he didn’t follow through with this crazy smokejumper idea.

The last thing she wanted was to bury him like she’d buried her father.

Stupid man .

That was what her mother had said about him. While the rest of Ember had hailed him a hero until she’d felt like she could walk a little taller and hold her head a little higher because she was his daughter.

He didn’t care nothin’ about us. He was just selfish. More interested in fire than his family.

The cake pan slammed on the wire rack a little too hard. Jayne hissed and squared it so the corner of the glass pan wasn’t in the air. It needed to cool so she could frost it.

In the meantime, she would put the sandwiches together and check if they had enough chips for all the kids, since she’d been planning to head to the grocery store the day after tomorrow and stock up.

“Hey, need some help?” Bridget strode in and held her water bottle under the faucet at the big metal sink. She dumped the water and rinsed it inside and out.

“Did you get a chance to check on Charlie?”

“Some bruising on his back. Alexis filled me in on how he fell. I’m not surprised he got winded. I’m glad he’s not as injured as he could’ve been—or should’ve been.” Bridget leaned her hip against the front of the sink. “Can you believe, a land mine? What on earth?”

Jayne nodded, happy Bridget had waited until they were out of earshot of the kids before she shared that sentiment. “Orion said they have bomb-squad-trained firefighters in most places, but the best they could do here is a few of the hotshots along with the coroner. Apparently, these ‘Trouble Boys’ were military, so they know how to spot buried ordnances. He said the only thing better would be a bomb-sniffing dog.”

Jayne smiled. “Also apparently… one of them knows this team, A Breed Apart. All working dogs, fully trained.” She shook her head. “And I thought Aria’s stories about Chevalier and her parents were crazy. Anyway, I guess the Trouble Boys are here, they wanna do it, and they’re faster than flying in an expert.”

Bridget said, “Now that would be something I’d like to see.”

Jayne’s head swam from everything. She’d been entirely too close to that explosion, and so had the kids. She did not want to see any more of it.

Instead, she pressed a hand to the front of her shirt and the necklace that hung under it. The one Orion had given her a few years ago on her birthday.

“Pretty hairy afternoon.” Bridget shifted closer and unwrapped the ham, dumping it on the cutting board so she could start slicing it to the size of the rolls. “But everything turned out all right. Except for that driver.”

Never mind the question of who on earth would do that. Or why. Had it been a targeted attack against the victim, or the camp?

Her mind kept replaying that image of Charlie flying back.

She’d been thanking God since then that no one else had been hurt. They had all been protected by the tanker from the force of the blast.

Her breath came fast.

Tears gathered in her eyes. She sniffed and held her breath before pushing it out slowly. Get a grip, girl.

“No one will blame you if you cry a little,” Bridget said. “He could’ve died. I bet Orion is having a rough time as well right now.”

Jayne gasped, trying to get ahold of herself. She’d nearly lost so much.

“He’s the father of your son. You’re allowed to freak out a little when he nearly died.”

She shook her head. “I have to hold it together.”

“Why?”

Jayne stared at her.

“Why can’t you just let yourself fall apart for a second?”

She turned for the pantry. “I need to make the frosting.”

Jayne swiped a tear from her face. She’d cried plenty of times, alone with a crying baby in the middle of the night. That was practically expected when your hormones were on a rollercoaster ride. Now she was supposed to be mature. In charge. The one who carried the weight of all the responsibility.

As much as she’d wanted someone to share it with over the years, that wasn’t what God had given her.

Life was what it was. She thanked God for each day she had and the overflow of blessings He had given her. If she wanted something more than that, it flew in the face of the contentment she tried to live by.

“I’m just glad we’re all okay here.” She carried the powdered sugar back to the area with the mixer, strategically ignoring the disappointed look on Bridget’s face. “So it’s time to celebrate that. When Orion shows up, we can get this party started.”

She headed for the big industrial refrigerator and the blocks of cream cheese.

“I’ll be praying for the crew removing the body.” Bridget shivered. “And no doubt Sheriff Hutchinson will be up here investigating soon enough.”

Jayne glanced over. Bridget had been sweet on the sheriff for a long while.

“They’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Jayne was pretty sure she was supposed to be the one reassuring her friend. As camp director, she was responsible for morale as much as physical safety and learning.

Instead, Bridget was trying to reassure her.

“All I know is that we’re up here until the road is clear. So it’s time to pray the wind dies and the fire banks, or we’ll be hunkered down while it rolls over us.” She began to hum her favorite hymn.

If Jordan above me shall roll …

She’d read that verse this morning, the one where Paul said, “For to me to liveisChrist, and to dieisgain.”

A hard thing when there was so much to do here. It might be gain for Charlie to go to heaven, but they would be left with grief and the promise of seeing each other again. The loss of so much of what could have been.

Thou wilt whisper thy peace to my soul. No matter what, she had God’s peace by His Spirit.

She needed to talk with Alexis and ensure the girl would be all right. With no mother, if something happened to her father, she would surely be devastated. She would need people to come around her and support her through even more loss.

Jayne’s chest tightened. She watched the frosting stir around in the mixer.

Losing Charlie? She didn’t want to go through that all over again.

Orion was old enough he could make his own decision about the relationship he wanted with his father.

Jayne wasn’t prepared to risk loss just for the chance that it might be nice to have him in her life again. Charlie didn’t live here. He had two kids to focus on now. She would only get in the way and wind up being a drain on his time that he resented.

No. She wouldn’t be demanding anything of him.

Not now, and not ever.