Where There's Smoke: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 1) (19 page)

Chapter 8

Something had stolen the corporeal form of Jed Ransom and replaced him with a warm and friendly—even devastatingly charming—double.

Not that Kate was complaining...really, but the sight of him holding Hannah Butcher’s nephew, little Bucky Turnquist, did crazy things to her insides.

Turned them strangely warm and unwieldy.

The turnabout could leave her head spinning.

All afternoon, Jed seemed preoccupied. From the moment Amy had arrived with her dark news, through the setup of the graduation ceremony on the tarmac with the gleaming red-and-white Twin Otter as a backdrop, to the reception set up on folding tables in the hangar. Kate attributed it to the arson news, coupled with the canopy sabotage, but seeing him now, holding Bucky on his arm as if he’d been handling babies all his life...

“Adorable-man-holding-baby alert, twelve o’clock.”

Gilly sidled up to her, handed her a chocolate chip cookie on a napkin. “It’s enough to make a girl swoon.”

Indeed.

Jed laughed, and the sound lifted from across the crowd and curled inside her, igniting a smolder.
I always believed we belonged together, Kate.

She let a smile tip her lips.

“Oh my gosh—it’s true.” Gilly’s tone made Kate glance at her. Gilly wore a conspiratorial grin, shaking her head. “When Pete said he’d found you two locking lips—”

“I’m going to kill him. He said he would keep it quiet.” She glanced around for the rat, found him flirting—of course—with a couple of unfamiliar town girls, probably relatives of one of the graduates. As if sensing her ire, Pete looked over at her.

She shook her head, her mouth a tight bud of disapproval.

He frowned at her, as if,
what gives?

Gilly saw the exchange and held up her hand as if to stop him from stalking over to them, demanding explanation. “What did you expect? I think the guy really did carry a little torch for you. He came into the hangar and plopped down on the sofa with a big sigh like his heart was breaking.”

“Hardly.”

“He mentioned a duel at dawn with pistols,” Gilly said, and Kate laughed. “No seriously, he did come in with a strange look on his face, but it took Reuben’s prodding to get it out of him. And he swore us to secrecy.”

Pete still wore a frown, glancing at her now and again, and Kate put him out of his misery with a shake of her head and a smile. She rolled her eyes, and the dour look broke free.

“So...you and Jed, round two?” Gilly said. “For the record, you look good on him. I’ve never seen the man so cheery in all my years.”

Really? Kate glanced again at him, this time catching Jed holding little Buck like a football, swinging him gently as he talked with Ray, Hannah’s father. She swallowed back a flush of emotion at the way he filled out his uniform, the fact that those amazing arms had been wrapped around her, those strong hands twined into her hair and caressing her face.

“You don’t think that he’d...well, he said he’d had a thing for me for years, too,” she said quietly to Gilly. “He wouldn’t do something crazy, like—”

“What—propose?”

And Kate just stopped breathing.

“Kate—Kate, come back to me.” Gilly snapped her fingers in front of Kate’s face. “I was kidding. Sorta. I mean, why not? You’ve loved him since you were fifteen. He’s probably loved you for that long, too, if he were to admit it. You guys were made for each other. So?” She lifted her shoulder, turned her gaze deliberately back to Jed. “When’s the wedding?”

“Stop. Talking. Please. Stop talking.”

Gilly laughed. “Now who’s the one making a run for the hills?”

Kate managed a tight smile, but as Gilly moved away to congratulate another graduate, she saw Jed, lying in the hospital bed so many years ago, not a little panic on his face when she arrived in his room wearing her heart on the outside of her body, ready to hand it over.

She turned and nearly ran right into Riley McCord, who had planted himself in front of her, looking official and serious in his uniform, the blue Forest Service Jump patch pinned to his shirt. “Thanks for passing me, Kate.” The cockiness she’d noticed three weeks ago had vanished from his eyes, replaced by a pride, a confidence she wished she could feel.

She gripped his shoulder, met his gaze. “Don’t let me down.” He nodded and moved away just in time for her to see Jed hand the baby back to Ray. Then Jed turned and seemed to be searching—yeah, for her, because when he spotted her, a smile lit his face, his eyes warming.

And she melted under it, her heart reacting to being on the receiving end of all that Jed Ransom focus. She couldn’t move, her body paralyzed as he worked through the crowd toward her, glad-handing graduates and family members, clamping some on the shoulder, his smile a thousand watts of stun power, even to the casual victim.

She had to get out of here before he did something crazy like—

“Hey, everyone. I’d like your attention, if I could.” He stopped in the center of the crowd, raised his hand, his voice. The hum of the attendees dimmed for him, people turning.

“I just wanted to take this opportunity to say a few words about someone who changed my life. Fifteen summers years ago I landed on this person’s doorstep and set out on a journey to become someone who was worthy of that person’s admiration. That person’s respect.”

He smiled at the crowd and held up his cup. Kate wrapped her arms around herself. She caught Pete’s eye, and he shrugged. Gilly was grinning over the top of her glass.

No, he couldn’t...

“It’s a new season and a time for new beginnings.”

She edged back even as Jed’s gaze roamed the crowd.

It settled on her, and he smiled, sweetly, not a hint of danger in his expression.

No, Jed—she tried to put the words in her gaze, on her face.

“Which is why today I want to raise a glass to the men who have gone before us. To Jock Burns and the smokejumpers and hotshots who made us proud, who still teach us every day the meaning of heroism and commitment. Who believe that what they do matters.”

Oh. Kate hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath—and let it out in a sound of relief highly inappropriate for the moment. She clamped her hand over her mouth, raised her lemonade to the applause.

Silly woman. Of course he wouldn’t—

Oh boy. Because he was making his way over to her again, looking whole and contented. She swallowed back the sense of her world tilting and smiled back. “That was a nice toast.”

He put his arm around her shoulders. Squeezed. She glanced around to see who might be looking and found only Conner’s gaze on them. He wore an enigmatic look, bordering on a frown, and it had her turning away, confused.

“I have to schmooze with a few more of the locals, then what do you say we get out of here?” Jed asked, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

She nodded and he moved away. She glanced at Conner again, but he’d turned his back to her and she shook away his look as her own crazy apprehensions.

So what, the entire base might know about them. She knew of plenty fire-base romances that ignited over the summer. Although maybe that was the problem. Maybe Conner saw her flying away at the end of the season, back to Boise. Or Alaska. And, being Jed’s friend, knew how Jed might feel about that.

She hadn’t thought beyond coming home, sorting out her dad’s possessions, living in the Airstream, becoming the jump trainer, and overcoming the fear that had held her hostage for so long.

Funny, she hadn’t woken up with nightmares for over two weeks, ever since...since Jed first kissed her at the Solomon fire. Since she’d stepped back into his airspace, since she knew, despite her protests, that she wasn’t alone.

Then last night—it all happened so quickly, this turnaround, and suddenly he was talking about something beyond summer...

In my head, I dreamed of us fighting fires together, building a life in Ember.

Now, the sun hung lazily over the horizon, the oppressive heat of the day lifting in a fragrant, piney breeze. Kate walked over to the shadow of the Twin Otter, to the podium and the almost empty audience chairs.

Gemma Turnquist sat on the end of the front row, ramrod straight, staring at the plane like she’d seen a ghost. Kate walked closer, not sure if she should intrude—but a catch of breath, the glisten of tears on Gemma’s face made her stop.

Kate pivoted, turning to leave when, “Someday, you’ll have to make a choice, you know.”

She froze. Looked over her shoulder. Gemma still stared straight ahead, as if she hadn’t spoken. But, “If you love him, you’ll have to choose.”

Kate turned fully, blew out a breath. “Uh, are you talking to me?”

“Either you or Jed. And in the end, both of you.” She looked over at her, then, a tear dripping off her chin, her face bullet hard. “Jed acts like it’s all glamour and heroics, but it’s not. It’s a choice—fire or family. My husband chose fire.”

“Gemma—”

“No. I get it. I mean, how can a pregnant wife compete with the camaraderie of eight guys all flinging themselves out of an airplane to fight a dragon? It’s practically medieval.” Her expression turned livid. “But it’s hardly heroic.”

Another tear dripped from her jaw, and she looked back at the plane as if seeing her husband hanging out of the door, ready to jump. “Doug always said it was in his blood. That he was born to jump—and Hannah has swallowed that line whole. The entire lot of them, drinking the Kool-Aid, believing that it’s a family legacy, that they’re born to it, that they have no choice.” She closed her eyes. “Apparently it’s also a family legacy to drive your family crazy with worry and even leave behind a widow and a child who will never know his father—”

“Gem—”

She held up a trembling hand. “Don’t, Kate. You’re the worst of them.”

Kate flinched.

“You make them believe they have to be braver. Stronger. Tougher than the daughter of the great and mighty Jock Burns.” She flung out her arm, gesturing to the unseen crowd. “Every single one of those guys longs to impress you. And because of that, they’ll do something stupid.” Her eyes narrowed, her voice sharp and thin. “If they come home in body bags, it’ll be your fault.”

Kate blinked at her, nonplussed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m just doing what—”

“You love. I get it. You were
born
to this, right?”

Um. “Yeah.” She took a breath, her head spinning at Gemma’s words. “Listen—since I was a kid, it’s all I wanted to do. And yeah, it’s a legacy thing. My dad—”

“I know. Filled your brain with stories of danger and heroism.”

“My dad practically forbade me to jump! He heard about it and went ballistic and begged me not to jump!”

And she’d made it worse by walking out of his life. The rawness of that truth could level her. Oh, her pride—her selfish pride. But what choice did she have now?

Her voice fell. “But I walked away from him, and if I don’t jump, Gemma, then I’ve got nothing. I
am
nothing. This is it, right here. Everything I am. Everything I will ever be. A smokejumper.”

Kate wasn’t sure where the words came from, surprised at the heat of them and the moisture that burned her eyes. Her chest rose and fell, her voice shaky. “I’m not going to get anyone killed, Gemma. These guys are here because they want to be—and they deserve to be. They’ve worked hard—”

“And Hannah. My
sister.
Does she deserve to be here?”

Kate drew in a breath. Tightened her jaw. Nodded. “Yeah. She does.”

Gemma stared at her without speaking. Just her eyes, tough, daring, in Kate’s. Then she got up, lifted her chin. “Hannah has more than this. She has a family, a life. A future. Don’t make her into you.”

She strode up to her. “And don’t let her die.”

The “or else” hung there, or maybe Kate just imagined it. Gemma took a final breath then strode past her.

Kate turned, watching her go, her entire body vibrating with Gemma’s grief. Her gaze fell on a figure standing in the shadows, his hands in his pockets, his face grim.

Jed.

Gemma walked by him without a glance.

He watched her go then looked back at Kate. Took a breath. “You have nothing?”

Her throat burned with the echo of her words.
Oh
. “Jed—what do you want from me? I’ve never lied to you, never made you think that I could be the girl who would settle down. You see where I live—I’m a rental-house, Airstream-camper, jump-in-my-Jeep-and-drive-to-the-next-great-fire kind of girl.”

He blew out a breath, lowering his head, as if in pain. His shoulders rose, fell.

Shoot. She came toward him. “Jed—listen to me—I love you—I think you know that. But—”

“It’s not enough.” He looked up then and met her eyes, something broken in his. “I should have seen it all along.” His face twisted in a sort of wry, sad expression. “Yeah, you might love me, but you also love fire.”

He shook his head as if, wow, how stupid he’d been.

The gesture put a fist over her heart.

“I do—I’m just like my dad—”

“Yeah, babe, you are—but not in the way you think. You think your legacy is that Jock could face fire without fear. But it’s not. Your dad’s legacy was
Ember
. The Jude County firefighters—people like me, who he practically raised, and the men and women he trained. Your dad spent his entire life building the thing you love the most about fighting fire—camaraderie. Maybe he figured it out after your mom left, I don’t know. But your dad didn’t love fire—he loved the people who fought it.”

She clenched her jaw against the tightening of her throat.

“Your dad died because he ran into a fire to save the people he loved.”

His eyes were so earnest, she couldn’t move.

“And you got it too, Kate, without even knowing it. The recruits love
you
—not your legacy. But you can’t see it, because you’re too busy running after the next great fire. And I just figured out why. It’s not so you can prove yourself—you’ve already done that. It’s because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she said, but her voice shook. How did he—

“Not of fire.” His face twitched then. “You’re scared of this. Us. Of jumping in and being betrayed. Which is why building a life with me has you completely freaked out. Because that would mean you would have to stop running and actually stick around and face your greatest fear—that one day it could all implode, just like it did for your parents. And it’s easier to blame fire and legacy and this inane idea that you have to shake a fist at death to prove yourself. That’s easier than facing the terrifying thought that you could have something amazing and beautiful, only to have it turn to ash.”