They'd straggled into the station, exhausted and covered in ash and dirt, each one of their faces lighting up when they saw him behind the maps.
“Logan, glad you've decided to join the party. How was your vacation?”
He'd grinned at the rookie who was as happy as a pig in shit to be out there with the rest of the hotshots, risking his life. Logan had been that kid once. Hell, he still was, only with more responsibilities on his shoulders.
The Forest Service superintendent had already called to apologize for getting in Logan's way this weekend with the suspension. Logan told the man he knew he'd simply been doing his job. Putting him on suspension was a judgment call. Nothing personal.
He shared a chili dinner with his crew, and when they stumbled off to bed, he, Gary, and Sam discussed tactics.
Most of the guys looked beaten all to hell. Not Sam MacKenzie. Even the toughest fires didn't scare him. Nothing did.
“What's the forecast?” Sam asked.
“High winds and low humidity for the next forty-eight hours. Water is either blowing out from beneath the helicopters or evaporating before it hits the ground. Some of the guys are getting in as close as twenty feet, but it's not making a difference.”
“It's been too long since these forests have burned. The trees are ripe for it,” Gary added, fatigue hanging on every word.
“Both of you need to get some sleep.”
Sam remained at the table. “I talked to Connor today.”
Firefighters were masters of understatement, part and parcel to the life-threatening risks they took every day. But sometimes Logan wanted to jump for joy anyway.
“Thank God he's awake. How's he feeling?”
“Like shit,” Sam said. “I never thanked you for saving his life.”
“We did it together.”
Nothing more needed to be said, so Sam pushed back his chair and headed off to his bunk, leaving Logan alone with the maps. A couple of hours later, he finally accepted that all they could do until the winds died down was keep the fire out of the trees. By dusk the next day, chainsaws and axes were going to feel like natural extensions of their hands.
When night fell, he'd sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, thinking of Maya. She was so beautiful. So stubborn. Too damn stubborn to tell him she loved him. Even though she did.
It didn't matter if she stayed in Lake Tahoe until they put this fire out. He'd find her wherever she went.
And he'd love her forever.
When sunlight finally glinted in through his eyelids, he splashed his face with water then rang the station bell. Fifteen minutes later, his men were assembled, looking sharp and ready for another killer day in Desolation. He kept his instructions short and sweet.
“Clear all low-hanging branches and chop down any burning trees. We've got to keep the fire from spreading to the treetops. Helicopters will continue making bucket drops on the hot spots as long as it's safe to keep flying in.” He paused to make sure every last one of them understood his orders. “At the first sign of danger, get out. I don't care if every house in Tahoe turns to rubble. I'm not losing any more men.”
Somber eyes met his, filled with determination. He followed his men out the door to their trucks.
He thought about Maya, knew she'd learned that lesson well: At the first sign of danger, get out. Her casualty list was long enough already. She didn't need him to be one more name, one more firefighter she'd loved and lost.
He couldn't turn his back on a fire. And he couldn't walk away from the woman he loved. Even if it was what she thought she wanted.
The original anchor point was no longer safe, so the crew drove into a wide clearing that had been bulldozed flat. From there, Logan watched flames jumping across treetops as heat rumbled over the mountains like a fleet of jets. Entire trees were torching, exploding into flames instantaneously.
He pulled down his hood and picked up a chainsaw. It was time to get back to work.
Maya woke up stiff and sweating beneath the thick comforter as the sun set through the thin drapes on her window. Logan's face was the first image she saw. She had faith in his fire knowledge and his years of experience as a hotshot, but the madness wouldn't end until Jenny was behind bars—or dead.
Moving quickly, she brushed her hair and teeth, then realized she had to put on her same filthy clothes again. Picking them up off the carpet, she shook them out in the shower. Her stomach growled. Grabbing her key, she walked down to the lobby.
“I need to use the phone.”
The girl behind the desk shrugged. “Whatever.”
Maya walked as far away from the blaring TV as the phone cord would allow. Using her company calling card number, she dialed information and got her boss's home number. He picked up on the third ring.
“Maya? I've been trying to reach you all weekend. What happened to you?”
Where should she start? So many things had happened in three days.
“We found her.”
“Her?”
“The arsonist.”
“The arsonist is a woman?”
“Yes.”
For the millionth time, Maya wished she'd figured it out earlier.
“How'd you find her?”
Maya rubbed a hand over her eyes. “I didn't,” she admitted. “She found me.” She paused. “She tried to kill me from a distance and when I didn't die she came to finish the job.”
How strange it all sounded when she said it aloud. Almost improbable.
Albert cursed. “You should have come home. I can't believe I let you stay, let you put yourself in danger.”
But Maya wasn't at all sorry. Because if she'd left, Logan and Joseph would probably both be dead by now.
“I'm coming to Tahoe. Straightaway. Keep her in jail until I get there. And stay out of trouble.”
Maya could hardly believe what she was about to tell her boss. “She's not in jail, Albert. She escaped.”
“You've got to be kidding me! How the hell did that happen?”
Albert was one of the calmest men she knew, and a great boss, but obviously even he had his breaking point. Looked like she'd found it.
She summed up the past forty-eight hours in as few words as possible. “She didn't stop at setting my motel room on fire. She set off an explosion that killed a hotshot. She bombed Logan's truck. She set two homes on fire, then taped me to a tree and nearly killed me with a chainsaw. When Logan saved my life again, she got away.”
“Logan, glad you've decided to join the party. How was your vacation?”
He'd grinned at the rookie who was as happy as a pig in shit to be out there with the rest of the hotshots, risking his life. Logan had been that kid once. Hell, he still was, only with more responsibilities on his shoulders.
The Forest Service superintendent had already called to apologize for getting in Logan's way this weekend with the suspension. Logan told the man he knew he'd simply been doing his job. Putting him on suspension was a judgment call. Nothing personal.
He shared a chili dinner with his crew, and when they stumbled off to bed, he, Gary, and Sam discussed tactics.
Most of the guys looked beaten all to hell. Not Sam MacKenzie. Even the toughest fires didn't scare him. Nothing did.
“What's the forecast?” Sam asked.
“High winds and low humidity for the next forty-eight hours. Water is either blowing out from beneath the helicopters or evaporating before it hits the ground. Some of the guys are getting in as close as twenty feet, but it's not making a difference.”
“It's been too long since these forests have burned. The trees are ripe for it,” Gary added, fatigue hanging on every word.
“Both of you need to get some sleep.”
Sam remained at the table. “I talked to Connor today.”
Firefighters were masters of understatement, part and parcel to the life-threatening risks they took every day. But sometimes Logan wanted to jump for joy anyway.
“Thank God he's awake. How's he feeling?”
“Like shit,” Sam said. “I never thanked you for saving his life.”
“We did it together.”
Nothing more needed to be said, so Sam pushed back his chair and headed off to his bunk, leaving Logan alone with the maps. A couple of hours later, he finally accepted that all they could do until the winds died down was keep the fire out of the trees. By dusk the next day, chainsaws and axes were going to feel like natural extensions of their hands.
When night fell, he'd sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, thinking of Maya. She was so beautiful. So stubborn. Too damn stubborn to tell him she loved him. Even though she did.
It didn't matter if she stayed in Lake Tahoe until they put this fire out. He'd find her wherever she went.
And he'd love her forever.
When sunlight finally glinted in through his eyelids, he splashed his face with water then rang the station bell. Fifteen minutes later, his men were assembled, looking sharp and ready for another killer day in Desolation. He kept his instructions short and sweet.
“Clear all low-hanging branches and chop down any burning trees. We've got to keep the fire from spreading to the treetops. Helicopters will continue making bucket drops on the hot spots as long as it's safe to keep flying in.” He paused to make sure every last one of them understood his orders. “At the first sign of danger, get out. I don't care if every house in Tahoe turns to rubble. I'm not losing any more men.”
Somber eyes met his, filled with determination. He followed his men out the door to their trucks.
He thought about Maya, knew she'd learned that lesson well: At the first sign of danger, get out. Her casualty list was long enough already. She didn't need him to be one more name, one more firefighter she'd loved and lost.
He couldn't turn his back on a fire. And he couldn't walk away from the woman he loved. Even if it was what she thought she wanted.
The original anchor point was no longer safe, so the crew drove into a wide clearing that had been bulldozed flat. From there, Logan watched flames jumping across treetops as heat rumbled over the mountains like a fleet of jets. Entire trees were torching, exploding into flames instantaneously.
He pulled down his hood and picked up a chainsaw. It was time to get back to work.
Maya woke up stiff and sweating beneath the thick comforter as the sun set through the thin drapes on her window. Logan's face was the first image she saw. She had faith in his fire knowledge and his years of experience as a hotshot, but the madness wouldn't end until Jenny was behind bars—or dead.
Moving quickly, she brushed her hair and teeth, then realized she had to put on her same filthy clothes again. Picking them up off the carpet, she shook them out in the shower. Her stomach growled. Grabbing her key, she walked down to the lobby.
“I need to use the phone.”
The girl behind the desk shrugged. “Whatever.”
Maya walked as far away from the blaring TV as the phone cord would allow. Using her company calling card number, she dialed information and got her boss's home number. He picked up on the third ring.
“Maya? I've been trying to reach you all weekend. What happened to you?”
Where should she start? So many things had happened in three days.
“We found her.”
“Her?”
“The arsonist.”
“The arsonist is a woman?”
“Yes.”
For the millionth time, Maya wished she'd figured it out earlier.
“How'd you find her?”
Maya rubbed a hand over her eyes. “I didn't,” she admitted. “She found me.” She paused. “She tried to kill me from a distance and when I didn't die she came to finish the job.”
How strange it all sounded when she said it aloud. Almost improbable.
Albert cursed. “You should have come home. I can't believe I let you stay, let you put yourself in danger.”
But Maya wasn't at all sorry. Because if she'd left, Logan and Joseph would probably both be dead by now.
“I'm coming to Tahoe. Straightaway. Keep her in jail until I get there. And stay out of trouble.”
Maya could hardly believe what she was about to tell her boss. “She's not in jail, Albert. She escaped.”
“You've got to be kidding me! How the hell did that happen?”
Albert was one of the calmest men she knew, and a great boss, but obviously even he had his breaking point. Looked like she'd found it.
She summed up the past forty-eight hours in as few words as possible. “She didn't stop at setting my motel room on fire. She set off an explosion that killed a hotshot. She bombed Logan's truck. She set two homes on fire, then taped me to a tree and nearly killed me with a chainsaw. When Logan saved my life again, she got away.”
