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Authors: Lisa T. Bergren

Firestorm (25 page)

BOOK: Firestorm
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She smiled at him indulgently. “I consider it a gift that you’re considering a lifetime partnership with me.”

Logan, unable to stop himself from continually smiling, asked, “Then we have a deal?”

“I think we can shake on it.”

Logan stood and lifted Reyne to her feet. He looked away, trying to stop smiling, then looked back at her from under a mock furrowed brow. “I consider a person’s handshake a seal on her word.”

She looked away and then managed to glance back at him with a similar expression. “As do I.”

“Then shake my hand.”

They did.

“And let me put this ring on.”

She did.

And afterward he pulled her into his arms, and they dissolved into celebratory laughter.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-E
IGHT

N
ews traveled fast in a fire camp. By the time Reyne entered the mess tent the next night on Logan’s arm, the whole camp knew of their impending marriage. When they walked through the front entrance, the raucous crowd suddenly hushed and then started stomping their feet and pounding on the tables as one.

Reyne laughed as Buddy Taylor climbed up on his table and nodded his head in time with the collective beat as if he had orchestrated it all himself. “I should’ve known!” Reyne shouted to Logan above the din. They waited where they stood, certain that their firefighting comrades were not finished.

They weren’t. Buddy raised his hands to quiet the stomping, and the tent grew still. He hummed, as if to find his key. He ran through an operatic
mi-mi-mi-mi
, then started humming and snapping his fingers. As if they were consummate professionals, the table around him began humming along, accompanying their leader.

“Go-in’ to the chapel and they’re goin’ ta get ma-a-a-ried, they’re go-in’ to the chapel and they’re goin’ ta get ma-a-a-ried.” He walked down the tables toward them, much as he had walked toward Reyne a few months before. Each time he got to an extended “married,” he swiveled his knees and swung his arms as if he was doing the twist. Reyne giggled and glanced up at Logan. This time he was enjoying Buddy’s antics too.

Their minstrel kept singing, walking on tables all the way, until
he got to the mess-tent entrance. As a grand finale, he paused in his song to motion them back and did a gymnastic flip off the table, landing on his feet. The crowd exploded into hoots and applause, but Buddy frowned and shushed them. Then, kneeling and spreading his arms wide, he finished singing, “Goin’ to the chapel of l-o-v-e!”

The crowd erupted with applause and laughter again, moving as one body to carry the happy couple and Buddy to the front of the buffet line. Laughing, Reyne looked at Logan and shook her head. Never, ever, had she felt this happy.

When they were back on their feet, Buddy nudged Logan’s back. “You know you’re getting the most gorgeous firefighter in the biz, don’t ya?”

“I do,” Logan said, smiling at Reyne like a king surveying his storybook kingdom.

“And the brainiest?”

“I prefer
smartest
,” Reyne put in.

“Okay, smarty-pants,
smartest
.” Buddy took the opportunity of being in line to heap up a second helping of dinner for himself.

“Yes, I’m aware of that fact.”

“And one of the best firefighters to ever go after the dragon?”

“Yes, I know,” Logan said, still smiling.

“Hey, I’m liking this,” Reyne said. “Go on, Buddy, go on. Surely you can think of more good things to say.”

“Not in front of this hulking fiancé,” Buddy quipped. “What do you think I am, an idiot?”

Reyne finished loading her own plate with pasta, barbecued chicken, bread, and salad. The cooks had outdone themselves today, but it mattered little to her. She decided that she could eat macaroni and cheese for the rest of her life and die a happy woman because the
things that mattered were in order. Her faith. Her life, for the most part. Her love. She glanced back at Logan with a smile meant only for him.

“Yes,” Buddy said, catching a glimpse of Reyne’s smile and slapping Logan on the back, “you’re a lucky, lucky man, McCabe. Be careful. You’re not to the altar yet. I just might try to steal her back from you.”

Logan looked back at him, his eyes narrowing. “Now, Taylor …”

Buddy threw up his arms in surrender and laughed. “Joking! I was only joking! You two kids,” he said, putting an arm around each of them, “are clearly destined for one another.”

Reyne and Logan were able to grab snatches of time together over the next three days, but rarely alone. They had an early breakfast the next morning, a late dinner the following day. On the third day, Reyne awakened to find Logan sleeping on the ground next to her cot. When he woke up, she was still in her bed, looking down on him with a big smile.

“Hey,” he said sleepily, rubbing his face, “I’m the one who’s supposed to be watching you sleep.”

“I like to watch you. Your nose twitches like you’re smelling something funny in your dreams. Besides, you’re the one who sneaked into my tent.”

He took her hand, studying the simple gold band on her ring finger. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked. But I came to see you and then couldn’t bear to wake you when I saw you sleeping so peacefully. Just like I thought,” he said, smiling up into her eyes. “No matter what you say, you do look just like an angel. I couldn’t stand leaving you again.”

She smiled at him, knowing just how he felt. The idea that they
might be torn apart, sent to separate fires at any moment, was torturous. Reyne watched as Logan played with the ring on her finger, twisting it around and around. “Why’d you pick this ring, Logan? Why the braid?” she asked, referring to the three golden strands that wove themselves together to form the band.

“Three strands,” he told her. “You. Me. And Jesus. I want God to be a part of our relationship always.”

Tears sprang to Reyne’s eyes. “Oh, Logan. If Beth could hear that, she would dance in the streets.” She turned away from him and held her hand up in the air to look at her ring. “She was always telling me that her and Matt’s faith helped make their marriage strong. I love it that it’s as important to you as it is to me to have Christ as our foundation.”

“Couldn’t get any stronger,” he murmured. Reyne turned to look at him. He was dozing off again.

“No we couldn’t,” she whispered.

“Oldre,” Thomas barked at her as soon as she entered the command center. “You’ve been reassigned. Home post duty. Get your gear and head out to the heliport.”

Reyne’s heart skipped a beat. “What? Home post? What’s going on?”

Thomas glanced up at her from over his clipboard, which was choked with papers going every which way. “Elk Horn. The hotshot team that Logan left there can’t control the fires anymore, and Missoula’s team has already been split up into too many subgroups to count. There’s no one left. The Northwest Forestry Company has ordered their whole crew back to Elk Horn. And Boise’s trying to get you help soon. Somehow …”

He looked around, already distracted. “Reyne, it’s bad. Everywhere. I don’t know, realistically, if the forestry company will get much governmental assistance until the town itself is threatened. I’m amazed they’re letting you go. So run, before they think twice.”

Reyne was still back on the news that there was a big fire in the Elk Horn Valley. Her heart sank as she thought of the beautiful forests surrounding her home going up in flames. And then her mind started working. She nodded briefly at Thomas. She’d put out other dragons. This one was no different.

Reyne picked up her notebook computer, sorted out the cord from the tangle of others, threw her logbooks, notes, and cellular phone in her backpack, and headed out the door. Reyne cast one last look over her shoulder. The crew here was getting the Mount Snowy fire under control, but they looked the worse for wear. The summer was taking its toll. And it was only late August, with two potential hot months ahead.

But her mind was already on Elk Horn as she turned away from the command center and headed toward the heliport.
Logan …
, she thought suddenly.
I wish Logan were going with me. Now
. Without another thought, she turned and walked back into the command tent.

As soon as he saw her, Thomas knew. He held up his hands and gave her a look as if he were dealing with a whiny kid on a softball team. “They’re already scheduled on the next flight out. Just as soon as they get back from their mission.”

Reyne flashed him a smile and turned back around. With Logan at her side, she could conquer the dragon anywhere he chose to show his face.

“And Oldre!” Thomas called. “I want an invitation to the wedding!”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-N
INE

E
lk Horn Valley was in trouble.

Reyne knew it as soon as Mike Moser took her up in an old twin-engine plane to see the fire for herself. The rolling acres of ranches, the grain and other crops, the cattle, the majestic homes, the tiny town, the forests that rose up from the valley floor and blanketed the mountains—all of it was in peril from the flames that were licking at the ridges surrounding the southern end of the valley. The fire Reyne saw below her had the potential to grow into the biggest one she had faced so far this season. And with the chronic shortage of personnel and supplies, she knew they were ill prepared to fight it. There were no extra crews to obtain, and few fresh ones.

Reyne leaned forward, peering out the windshield, and then fell back against her seat, moving the microphone away from her mouth and blowing out forcefully. There was a lot of work to do. A lot. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Dear Father, please help me in this. I am overwhelmed. This is bigger than I am.”

Nothing is bigger than I
.

She smiled at her heart’s response.
Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for being with me every second of the day
. She lowered the microphone to her mouth again and glanced at the pilot. “Get me on the ground, Mike. We have work to do.”

Reyne took charge of the command ready room in the airstrip barracks like a woman born to lead. There were six hotshots remaining at the base, and Reyne picked up the phone immediately to enlist friends and neighbors in the cause. She sent Rachel off to obtain the most up-to-date topographical maps possible; she asked Dirk to start rounding up supplies that she knew by now would run short: batteries, sleeping bags, toilet paper. For Matt Morgan, a longtime member of the community who enjoyed friendships with influential Montana politicians, she had a special mission. For good measure, Dirk would follow up his calls. Two prominent ranchers were better than one.

“Matt,” she said gently, hearing him pick up. Reyne ducked away from two other team members who were already on the other phone lines carrying out her orders. “How are you?”

“I’m doing pretty well, Reyne, considering. We’ve missed you around here—and not just ’cause we’re all about to go up in flames.”

“I’ve missed you guys. We have some big news for you when things settle down. But, Matt, I need your help right now.”

“Anything.”

“Logan and I’ve been out on several big fires these last weeks, and everywhere it’s the same. There are too many fires and too few bodies to fight them. Getting adequate crews in here is going to take some doing. We’ve only got one tanker, and it’s grounded right now. We’re going to need at least two, and a chopper would be great too. I thought you could make some calls.”

“You’ve got it.”

“And also do some recruiting. No one could say no to you. And if you take that darling girl of yours along, they’ll really turn out.”

Matt laughed. It felt terrific to hear his big laugh again. “What
are you saying, Oldre? Exploit my baby girl for the sake of the cause?”

“You’re onto me, Matt,” she said, grinning. “I was thinking a big neon sign above her that says, ‘Don’t make my baby fight fires herself,’ might be in order.”

He groaned. “Now, that’s really bad.”

“Okay then,” she said, needing to wrap up the conversation, “you get me people on your terms. Preferably young men and women in good shape. And then come down here. I need you to help train them.”

“But Reyne, it’s been about thirteen years since I dug chains.”

“Do you ever forget?” she demanded.

“How could I forget? I’ve wanted to—”

“Okay, then. See you at 0600 tomorrow.” With that she hung up, grinning as she imagined the look on his face at the other end. She hoped her clipped commands amused him.

And she hoped their friendship and a cause gave Matt Morgan yet another reason to go on living without Beth.

Two separate fronts were converging on the Elk Horn Valley, each coming from a different direction. This presented the thorny problem of having to divide up her already inadequate crews. The regional fire coordinator center called her every two hours for an update but still had not assigned her command-center help. Each time she inquired, the answer was the same. “Sorry. We’re tapped out. Everyone is assigned to fires in which lives are endangered,” or something to that effect. If she heard it again, Reyne thought she’d have to scream.

BOOK: Firestorm
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