Tempt the Flames (The Smokejumpers) Read online

Last year ago, he’d worked with a hotshot who’d been at Redmond when his father had been here. The guy probably wouldn’t have said anything to him, now that Lance thought back on it, not if they hadn’t saved each other’s asses more than once. Because how his dad was blamed for someone’s death? That shit didn’t come up in everyday conversation.

  But one night, over beers, the guy got all loose-lipped, going on about how what had happened to his father had been a damn shame, how it had been unfair that JT Roberts had been blamed so thoroughly for Jason Buchanan’s death.

  Lance hadn’t said much. Didn’t seem like good beer-drinking chatter. But, when he got home, he called his mom. She’d forwarded what the Forest Services’ investigator had given her, and Lance had read that file dozens of times.

  He had to admit he agreed with the guy.

  So Redmond smokejumper training killed two birds with one stone. He’d dreamed of becoming a smokejumper forever. Like his father. Now he could do it here. Where his father had jumped.

  And, maybe being at Redmond would help him flesh out what had really happened in that fire.

  Now, he wondered if maybe this all was a cruel joke or some nasty karma he was working off. He hadn’t expected to see Meg. He knew Will, her older brother, jumped at Redmond. But what was she doing here?

  He shook Joe’s hand. “Mr. Buchanan. Good to see you.” He turned to Dak. “This is Dak Parrish. We rappelled together in California.”

  “Mr. Parrish. Nice to meet you.” Joe’s smile appeared genuine. He shook Dak’s hand. “Welcome to Redmond Air Center, boys.” He turned, then, to his niece. “Lance, you remember my niece, Meg, don’t you?”

  When she faced him, his first thought was that her adolescent pretty face had delivered on its promise. Meg, with her red hair and crystal blue eyes, had never been able to fade into the background, even then, even when she wanted to. The woman she’d grown into was striking. Pale skin, but not a hint of a freckle, as if they wouldn’t dare. Her hair wasn’t strawberry blonde, but auburn. And, those eyes…still the same sharp, smart eyes.

  “Hey, firecracker.”

  The nickname rolled off his tongue, like it always had. He and Hunter used to call her that because she always held herself in check, but when she got angry, she was a sight to behold.

  She’d hated it.

  It was a mistake, too, to call her that here, in front of everyone. It was a bold-faced reminder of how close they had all been a lifetime ago. But he refused to pretend things were different. They had been close…once. And now they weren’t. But, when her eyes lit, he didn’t regret using the nickname one bit. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to ruffle Meg’s feathers.

  “Don’t call me that.” Where she’d been pale a moment ago, there was color in her cheeks, the prettiest pink. “We’re not kids anymore, Lance.”

  “No. We’re definitely all grown up.” He let his gaze drift over her. Meg had always been tall, shooting up inches at a time in crazy growth spurts. But the girl he remembered had been thin, like a rubber band stretched too tight. The woman in front of him had grown into those long, lean limbs. Her legs went on for miles. She had a slim waist, and the arms she crossed over her pretty, high breasts were toned.

  When his gaze returned to her face, his smile widened. Yep…the eyes were definitely still the same. The package might be different, but the fire was still there, and he still enjoyed riling her up.

  “You look good, Meg.” It was an understatement. She looked amazing.

  She glared at him, and then rolled her eyes.

  “Guess they’ll let anyone in here.”

  At the voice behind him, he closed his eyes, inhaling. Bracing himself. Another blast from the past. “Will.”

  He turned to find Meg’s oldest brother, Will Buchanan, dropping his bag into the dirt and crossing his arms over his chest, a mirror of his sister’s stance. Behind him, Hunter, his former best friend, stared at the far off mountains, his jaw tight. Both brothers looked the same, only older. Both were taller than average, like their sister, and the years had filled them out as well.

  Well, he’d come a long way in the past decade, too. He’d hoped the time might have been long enough to let cooler heads prevail.

  Apparently not.

  “Joe,” Will addressed his uncle. “Why is this piece of trash on our doorstep?”

  Joe exhaled sharply, propping his fists on his hips. “Come on, now…”

  Lance lifted his hand. “It’s okay, Joe.” He smiled. Maybe Will thought he could intimidate him. If so, the guy’s memory must have failed since Lance moved away. “Good to see you, too, Will.” He nodded his head toward Hunter. “Hunt. How are you?”

  Hunter grunted, his expression guarded.

  Though Will’s glare never left him, his words were for Joe. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  It seemed obvious, but maybe Will needed things spelled out. “I’m in the new rookie class.”

  “No way.”

  The way he said it, full of outrage, pissed Lance off. He stepped closer, meeting Will’s eyes and getting right in his face. “I can assure you it’s true. I have the paperwork to prove it.”

  Will didn’t back down, and Lance hadn’t expected him to. He’d spent years as a pseudo-brother to the guy. They had nearly matching hardheadedness.

  As they stared at each other, any hopes that his return to Redmond wouldn’t be a disaster died. It disappointed him to discover they’d existed at all.

  Hope was for idealists. He was a survivor.

  One thing was painfully clear: Will was going to make this hard for him. Maybe even impossible.

  Well, he wasn’t the sort to give up. If he wasn’t going to make it through training, then he planned to go down swinging.

  Meg stepped into the tension between them. Placing one hand on Will’s chest, she rested the other over Lance’s heart. He didn’t look away from Will’s gaze, but the heat from her palm seeped through his T-shirt. As it laced through him, it touched places inside he refused to examine.

  “Stop it, Will,” she whispered, looking up into her brother’s face. “You’re making a scene.”

  No one moved, not Will, not Meg, not him.

  After another pregnant moment, she added, “Please. For me.”

  Will blew out, breaking the eye contact. With a fluid movement, he grabbed his bag from where he’d dropped it at his feet. He didn’t say anything else as he swept inside the air center. Hunter followed, brushing past Lance without a word.

  Meg retreated a few steps, and he missed her closeness. Her head dropped, and he remembered so many times when she’d played the peacemaker. He reached for her—maybe to touch her hand, he didn’t know—but she stepped back and away. With an unreadable glance, she followed her brothers inside, leaving him staring after them all.

  “So, that went well,” Dak offered under his breath.

  Lance snorted. But the exchange broke the spell. He turned to Joe who rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Let’s get you settled, then.” The base manager’s face had been welcoming earlier, but now it was lined with stress, making him appear much older. He moved to the door, holding it open for them as they gathered their stuff. “I put you on the far end, Lance…”

  “Not my father’s cubicle?” Will had taken his father’s space, after he’d died. Lance had seen it, the one time he’d returned to the air center after the Blue Creek fire, to collect his dad’s personal effects. His mom hadn’t been able to stomach seeing the place.

  “I figured you might not…what I mean is it might be best…”

  Lance could see exactly what he meant. This was a chance to distance himself from his father’s history. But Lance refused to delude himself. There was nowhere to run. “That’s okay, Mr. Buchanan. I’ll take my dad’s space. Thanks.”

  As Joe nodded and ducked i
nside, Dak caught his sleeve. “What the hell happened here?” He nudged his chin toward the building. “Those people hate you.”

  This was not a conversation for the parking lot. “Let’s get settled. Maybe we can get a beer later. I might need it.”

  Chapter 2

  “It’s been a decade, Will.” Joe leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in front of him, probably attempting some calm in this mess. “It’s time to let this go.”

  Will slammed his palm on the desk. Definitely not calm. “There’s no statute of limitations on stuff like this.”

  Yeah, and the same could be said of Meg’s attraction to Lance Roberts. Stupid girlhood crushes were supposed to end after one stopped being a stupid girl.

  Apparently not.

  Her palm still tingled from where she’d touched him. It had barely been any contact and through a shirt, for Christ’s sake, yet it had hit her in the belly. She’d been holding her breath, worried what Will might do. But, if she was totally honest, it was hard to breathe close to Lance.

  Stupid, stupid…

  “He’s earned the spot.” Joe rubbed the back of his head. “Spent three years as a volunteer, then three on a hotshot crew. Since then, he’s been on a helitack team in north California. If he passes the physical test tomorrow, and I have no reason to believe he won’t, he can start the training.”

  “He shouldn’t be on the team.” Will had broken out his stubborn voice. He was the oldest, and for the past decade he’d been the patriarch of their dysfunctional family. Authoritative came easy.

  She stifled her sigh. They didn’t need outrage; they needed diplomacy. “I think you should let Joe do his job.” Her brother swiveled to her, betrayal on his face. She lifted her hands in the universal sign of truce. “Think. He’d need referrals, recommendations. He probably went through at least a couple interviews. There are only four spots, so Joe probably offered chances to what, seven or eight people?” Pausing, she waited for Joe to nod in agreement. “You should entertain the thought that someone else might be a better judge of all things Lance Roberts than us.”

  Talk about putting things mildly. Between Will’s irrational anger at finding him here, and her ridiculous attraction to him, they were definitely not unbiased bystanders. She should take her own advice.

  “No, we’re better judges than anyone. Those people don’t have the one-on-one experience with him that we have. They don’t know him.”

  “And what do you know about him? What do any of us really know now?” Will wasn’t the only Buchanan with a temper, and her brother’s over-the-top reaction was grating on her nerves. “That he used to be Hunter’s best friend? That he spent more time at our house all those years ago than his own? That he was almost as much of a big brother to the twins as you guys are?” She snorted. “Or that he had the misfortune of being the son of a man who’s been accused of being responsible for two needless deaths?”

  Will’s head jerked back. They never talked about their father’s death. Today, though, it was too much of an elephant in the room.

  She sighed. “It’s been ten years since the fire, and almost that long since he and his mom moved away. A lot happens in that much time. Maybe we should give him a chance to prove us wrong. To prove everyone wrong.” Shrugging, she wrapped her arms around her middle. “Things change. People change.”

  As if determined to prove her wrong, she caught sight of Lance out the window next to the door to Joe’s office. He was emptying his bags into the locker that used to belong to his father. As he reached up, the muscles of his arms stretched the fabric of his T-shirt, showing off the equally cut expanse of his stomach. Turning, his broad shoulder and strong back filled her view, sending heat slicing into her stomach and hitching her breath.

  When she looked at him, she didn’t think about the Blue Creek fire or how his father was blamed for upending her family. Instead, she watched him move. He’d been handsome as a boy, with the smooth good looks of adolescence, but the man he’d become was more rugged, more chiseled. Harder, with more raw edges.

  Just as sexy. More so, actually.

  Sure, some things changed. But some things—like her reaction to him—didn’t.

  “You know what he was like, Meg.” Will swung his arm out, encompassing Lance in the other room. “Reckless, a troublemaker. Always pushing the limits. Who talked you and Hunter into jumping the cliffs at the lake? Him. Skateboarding the rails when Hunter broke his arm? That was him, too. Skiing, racing ATVs, snowboarding…he took chances, drove too fast, and went too hard.”

  “You’re one to talk. Yeah, he was an adrenaline junkie. And so were you.” She smirked, and nudged her head toward Hunter. “And Hunter? He isn’t? All of you guys are. You want to jump out of planes, into the middle of the wilderness, to fight fires. Don’t preach at me how he’s more dangerous than the rest of you.” She stopped there. It was no secret to her brothers how she felt about what they did or how much it scared her.

  If it was up to her, she’d never lose another loved one in a fire. That was one of many reasons why she wanted this job. She couldn’t control the fires, but, as their trainer, she could control how prepared they were for them.

  “It’s different.” Will rolled his eyes, his mouth thinning. “His father was like that, too. Always the first in, always the one to go hardest. Reckless. He convinced Dad to take stupid risks that day, the kind that got them stranded on the wrong side of the flame. And we know what happened after that.”

  The words hung in the air along with all the tension between them.

  “He deserves a chance, Will,” she whispered. Thinking that she’d gotten her job because of her last name, while Will wanted to keep Lance from his because of his father…it didn’t sit well with her. “Everyone deserves a chance.”

  “I agree.” Hunter shoved away from the wall where he’d been leaning, quiet until now. “Let it go, Will.”

  Will turned his glare on him for a long moment before pushing away from the desk. Standing, he flexed his fingers, studying them all. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. I’m outnumbered. But, I swear, Joe, I’m watching him. If he,” he pointed at the door, “so much as steps one toe out of line, or puts anyone in danger, I’ll make sure he’s out of here. Even if it means going over your head.”

  Before any of them could respond, he stormed out. Meg exhaled a breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

  Grimly, Joe nodded to her and Hunter. “You two might as well get settled. It’s going to be an interesting year.”

  She snorted, smiling in spite of herself. Talk about an understatement.

  Her grin disappeared as she caught Hunter’s expression. Her heart twisted. She’d been so caught up with how she was dealing with Lance’s return that she hadn’t considered how Hunter must be feeling. He and Lance had been as thick as thieves as kids, pretty much from the time they could crawl.

  After the allegations about his father and the fire began to circulate, Lance stopped coming around. Meg had understood. He was grieving his own loss, and probably thought that her family hated him, too, if the rumors were true. Through it all, though, Hunter refused to give up on him. He’d called, left messages, invited him to get together. Not once or twice, but dozens of times.

  By the time Lance and his mom left town, four months after the fire, they still hadn’t spoken.

  She squeezed his arm as she walked by. Under her breath, she said so only he could hear, “Just because he deserves a chance here doesn’t mean he deserves a chance with us.”

  She purposely added herself into the mix. If anyone needed a reminder that Lance wouldn’t be good for them, that he wasn’t a risk worth taking, it was her.

  Not only because he’d never given her the time of the day, no matter how many times she’d thrown herself at him. Looking back, it had been painfully obvious how she’d felt about him. Teenage girls weren’t usually
subtle, and she’d been no exception.

  No, it wasn’t only that, though that should do it.

  She was going to be the assistant trainer here, at rookie training, for the next four weeks. She’d wanted this job for a long time and she wouldn’t jeopardize it.

  At the end, he would be a smokejumper, the most elite kind of firefighter. The job that had killed her father. She would never allow herself to get involved with one of them.

  Which meant she needed to squash this stupid attraction. Because people with stupid crushes did stupid things. So, she would be her professional best with Lance Roberts. The rest of the time, she’d stay far away from him.

  * * * *

  “Hear you made quite the entrance at the air center.” Lance’s grandmother didn’t look up from her knitting. Her conversation starters were like guerrilla warfare: no warning, surprise attacks.

  Grinning, he dropped the food he’d picked up on the counter. There were groceries, but only staples, because he wasn’t sure what she needed. He hadn’t called, though, because if he’d asked what she needed, she would have chewed him out about how she could take care of herself. He’d picked up dinner, anyway. Takeout would have to do because he wasn’t much of a cook. The restaurant scene hadn’t changed much in Redmond over the years. Lots of Mexican and pizza joints. He’d grabbed some sandwiches and salads. And, of course, some coffee.

  Gram was like him. She had no internal clock that decided it was too late for coffee. For them, coffee was an all-day affair.

  He sauntered over, kissed her papery cheek, and set the to-go cup next to her. As she glanced up at him over her bifocals, he did his best not to squirm under her astute gaze. Gram was still sharp as a whip at eighty-three. Staring him down, she retrieved her cup.

  After a drink, she nodded and set it down. Testing his order accuracy. It was exactly the way she liked it, heavy on the cream, no sugar. Because he remembered stuff like that.

  “Wasn’t going to slink in, Gram.” He sipped from his own cup. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” Even now, hours later, his temper flared. Will and Hunter…they’d treated him like a criminal.