Bridget clapped her hands together. “Listen up, everyone! We’re heading to the river.”

  More than one teen groaned.

  “We know you’re tired,” Jayne called out. “But the wind is picking up, and if it changes direction, we could end up in trouble.”

  They were all kitted out in fire gear. They knew what to do in a disaster scenario—each one had a fire shelter. Safety was a nonnegotiable for her.

  “I’ve never lost a firefighter, and I won’t break that streak today. So we push to the river, and then we break out the soap and get cleaned up. Who wants my famous spicy gumbo for dinner? Maybe we can do those hot ham and cheese sandwiches tomorrow.”

  That picked up a few spirits. Thankfully Jayne had set it up in the slow cooker back in the camp lodge before they’d come out this morning, so it should be about ready. They were going to camp out overnight, but that didn’t mean not eating well.

  They just had to get to a good spot.

  She said, “S’mores for dessert.”

  That got the rest of them moving.

  Bridget said, “Let’s get this brush to the truck so I can go pick up dinner from camp and bring it out.”

  “I’ll take a pepperoni pizza.” One of the guys grinned—Mr. Romance, who’d convinced Shelly from California (not Shelly from Alaska) to sneak off into the bushes with him last night after bed down. Jayne had spotted them more than once, and it was why she’d decided to tell the story.

  “I’ll get right on that.” Bridget grinned.

  The crew started grabbing bundles of brush and walking down the trail to the truck they had on hand for emergencies and supply delivery. Other than that, they were alone out here. Carrying what they needed, and walking from camp nearly ten miles to the northwest.

  Most years there were a few fires they could help put out by clearing lines hotshots had already dug to keep this area safe, all the while praying the fire stayed far away and even that it might head in another direction entirely.

  It didn’t look like that prayer would be answered today, so she asked for wisdom instead and protection for the kids—and all the firefighters. Not just her son Orion, but every one of them, and the smokejumpers she’d seen parachute overhead a bit ago.

  She wasn’t a stranger to unanswered prayers.

  God didn’t say yes to everything, and why should He when He knew far better than she did? If the wind blew the fire toward them and the camp, then the outcome would be in His hands.

  Jayne tugged on the hem of each glove, then picked up a bundle of brush in her arms and raced one of the kids to the truck parked on the fire road a quarter mile to the north.

  Alexis dumped her load in the truck bed beside Jayne’s.

  Jayne caught her attention as they turned. “Everything okay?”

  The girl shot her an odd look. “Sure.” Alexis brushed hair back from her face and wound up with a smear of dirt on her forehead. “Your son…the one you mentioned. Does he ever come around the camp?”

  “Sometimes.” Jayne wasn’t going to lie to the girl. “We actually had a pretty big fight at the beginning of the fire season.” Her stomach clenched and she looked at the thirty-foot pine trees that stood in two rows flanking the fire road. “He wants to be a smokejumper. That’s…it’s actually what killed my dad. His parachute failed.”

  Alexis studied her, entirely too much pain in her eyes. She’d suffered loss, but for the most part refused to talk about it.

  “Who did you lose?”

  Alexis said, “My mom died right after Christmas. Couple days before New Year. She had cancer.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  The girl winced. “It was…” She shrugged. “I don’t even know. It was bad for a long time. But she wasn’t a nice person, which sounds like a horrible thing to say about someone who’s dead.”

  “All we can do is be honest about how we feel.” Jayne set a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “God knows it before we even come to Him, but He wants us to talk to Him. To build that relationship and rely on Him for our comfort and strength. It sounds hard, but it’s actually very simple.”

  Jayne had no idea where the girl was with faith. She made no secret of the way she guided the kids. If they needed help or advice, it was going to be based on the Bible—the book Jayne had lived her life by since Orion was born and she’d realized he needed more than she could give him.

  The teen shook her head. “There’s nothing simple about this.”

  Alexis had said her father had custody of her and that he was a hotshot in Ember for the summer. With the exception of the time since yesterday, when she’d told her teenage love story, Alexis had been her right-hand girl so far this summer. In a lot of ways, she’d come to rely on the teen, who had some basic medical training and a lifeguard certification and was planning on getting an EMT certificate next year in her senior year of high school. The girl was going to make something of her life, even if none of the adults she had watching out for her had ever encouraged her to do it.

  Alexis was going places, and she didn’t need anyone’s help. Maybe it was worry for her father that had Alexis out of sorts. If she were Jayne’s daughter, Jayne would be proud of the way she carried on after her mother passed and her father dumped her here for the summer so he could join the Jude County Hotshots. The way she was proud of Orion and the good he was doing in the world every day, not just during fire season. Her son had grown up to be a good man.

  Despite who his father was.

  “I’m gonna go help with the rest.” Alexis wandered off toward the brush that still needed clearing.

  Jayne checked on everyone and kept one eye on the clouds in the distance as she did it, then she looked at her phone to see if there were any new updates.

  It chimed as she pulled it from her belt holster, and she sucked in a breath. It’s worse than I thought. The text from Miles and the update from the National Interagency Fire Center in Idaho was a double alert⁠—and they needed to respond in double time.

  “Hustle up, everyone! Change of dinner plans. The camp has been upgraded to ‘Ready to go’ status. We need to get back there and be prepared to evacuate.”

  TWO

  “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?”