Falls Like Lightning (6 page)

He looked at the ground and blew out a breath. Smiling, teeth white against his ruddy cheeks, he flipped up a pocket flap on his brush shirt. “You know, I actually have something for you.”

That
she didn’t expect. Her voice laced with cynicism. “You brought me something. That’s a good one. It’s been, what, seven years? You didn’t even know you’d see me here.”

She spotted the fuel truck coming down the tarmac. Oh, the things she wanted to say to him. She thought of half a dozen beginnings, certain that all of them would devolve into an argument. Okay. She’d humor him. “So, what is it?”

From his shirt pocket Silas produced green sprigs, slightly charred at the tips. “Found this on the hike to the helicopter landing zone.” He plucked a leaf, tossed it into his mouth, and handed her the rest.

Elle looked from him to the leaves. She held them to her nose and breathed in. She closed her eyes and smiled.
Mint.
That summer at the beach . . .

Wait.

How’d he do that?
What was the matter with her anyway?

She plucked a couple leaves and handed the bouquet back. “Wild mint.” She turned and started walking back to the plane. “Thank you.” She popped a leaf into her mouth and stuck the other in her pocket.

He trotted up next to her. “It wasn’t like I just pocketed it for myself. I’m not lying when I say this—you were the first person I thought of.”

Elle raised and lowered her eyebrows. This wasn’t going to go anywhere. She turned to the horizon. “Another cold front’s coming in.”

“It’s good to see you again, Elle.”

She pasted on a smile.
Be strong.
“It is good to see you. . . . And Warren too.”

“Oh. Me and Warren.”

“Yes.”

“I heard you mention an appointment. . . . Is your girl sick?”

Maddie was off limits. “She . . . no. She has a condition, and they’re letting me take her to a specialist in Oakland.” The sky turned cobalt and cauliflower. Virga pulled like cotton from boomers in the distance.

He nodded, not taking his eyes off her. She saw in his face something sad, something more . . . grown-up.

His next words surprised her.

“You think that, maybe, you might want some company down to Oakland?”

She froze, dumbfounded, then snapped her jaw shut. She swallowed. There had to be a hundred reasons why this wasn’t a good idea. Wind blew hair strands across her eyes. She studied him.
Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
“Okay.”

He smiled and shouldered his fireline pack. “Okay if I bring this along?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “That’d be fine.” She eyed him head to toe. “You’re a mess. You sure you don’t want to—” She nodded toward the airbase, insinuating he should take a shower.

He opened his mouth and glanced back. She could tell he was considering whether she’d leave without him.

That
she
would leave
him
 . . .

She smiled at the subtle turning of the tables. She had said he could come along. She wasn’t going to furtively slip away. “Go ahead. It’ll take me at least fifteen minutes to get the plane refueled and ready to go.”

He grinned this time. “I’ll be right back.”

CHAPTER

08

S
ilas peeled off his navy blue T-shirt and tossed it on the locker room bench. What was he thinking? He was so impulsive. Asking to fly along with Elle on a whim after walking out on her seven years earlier. Real classy.

Still, was it wrong to want to fly with her? Did he make a bad decision? All he knew was that the moment he saw her, emotions and memories he thought well guarded flooded his mind and heart. Her presence felt like salve for a yearning years suppressed and too often ignored.

A thick cloud of soap-scented steam billowed from the showers. He kicked off his pants and dropped them onto his sweat-and-smoke-saturated clothing pile. His cell phone vibrated on the wooden bench top. Ignoring it, he wrapped a coarse white towel around his waist. The phone vibrated again, working its way toward a precipitous drop onto the tile floor. Warren’s number flashed across the screen. Silas stretched his neck and stared into the fog overhead.

Had it been anyone else . . .

The phone buzzed and toppled. Silas snatched it in the air. “ ’Sup, Warren?”

“Long time no talk. Catch you in the middle of anything?”

“Almost.”

“Just got a call from the Desolation Complex Incident Command. The IC wants us on the tarmac in South Lake by sundown.”

Silas angled his jaw and exhaled. “All right. When are we heading out?”

“Early evening. Captain Westmore has orders to make a quick flight into Oakland. When she returns, we’ll load up and make haste.”

“About that flight to Oakland. You have any objections to my joining her?”

The line stayed silent for several seconds. “I don’t see why not. Just make sure you’ve got your stuff packed for a long stay in South Lake.”

“I will. Thanks. So the IC didn’t say anything else?”

“Nothing, though I get the feeling the whole thing is blowing up. I’ll let you know as I hear more.”

———

Elle exhaled. She honestly didn’t know what she was doing. She was a single mom, not a single girl in her early twenties. Sounds of Maddie singing a redundant refrain—“I’m bored, I’m bored, I’m bored”—to the tune of “We’re Off to See the Wizard” came from the crew compartment. The fuel truck arrived and connected to Jumper 41.

Her mind trailed off to a little over seven years ago. Claiming it was on a whim, Silas had invited her to ride with him and a couple friends on a nine-plus-hour trip from McCall, Idaho, to Seaside, Oregon. They weren’t an item yet. It had just worked out that they both were on three days’ leave. It’d be a lot of driving, but he really wanted to camp by the Pacific. She didn’t know him very well, but it was the kind of decision a single girl with no ties could make.

She’d stood out on the front walkway of her house before dawn that Friday with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a sleeping bag under her other arm. She heard the sound of his VW bus approaching before she saw it. A long surfboard lay strapped to the top.

Inside, Silas sat behind the wheel. No other passengers. She hopped up in the front seat, said “Morning,” and inquired who they were going to pick up next. Silas looked sheepish and admitted that his buddies had bowed out last minute. He totally understood if she decided not to go. She eyed him, searching for any sign of deceit or trickery. Satisfied that none existed, she set her backpack and sleeping bag behind the seat and kicked a foot up on the dash. “Well, I for one,” she said, “am glad to have someone else do the flying.”

He flashed his ineffable grin, dropped the column shift in gear, and they were off.

Late afternoon in Seaside they bought fresh fruit and a bunch of mint at a farmer’s market. She reclined against a warm sand dune by the empty beach parking lot. She peeled an orange, the scent of citrus covering her fingertips, the cool taste of leafy herbs on her tongue. Silas stood in his wetsuit on the frame borders of the bus, dancing to Donovan on the AM radio with the sun behind him, giant and amber and sinking beneath the horizon.

He sang along, “ ‘Superman or Green Lantern ain’t got nothin’ on me.’ ”

She grinned and shook her head.

He pointed to her and started in on the next verse when she heard the sound of wet rubber squeaking over metal. His eyes flashed big and he tumbled over the side.

Elle held her breath and sat forward.

Silas popped up, sand on his face and shoulder. He boogied into the parking lot like nothing had happened.

She burst into laughter.

He darted forward, a playful look in his eyes. She yelped and twisted to scramble up the dune, her orange dropping and rolling in the sand. He snatched her by the waist, and before she knew it, the earth turned upside down, with her pounding fists on his back like a cavewoman swept off the ground.

“Let me down, you.”

“Time to get wet.”

“No!” Her voice came out as a scream. She already felt water from his wetsuit soaking through her clothing. She was so not in the mood to be dunked into a fifty-five-degree ocean.

Silas just laughed and spanked her. Elle gritted her teeth. How humiliating. She knew that the more she screamed and kicked the funnier he would think it was. Maybe if she just played like it was no big deal . . . He wouldn’t really dunk her in the water. Right?

Elle feigned going unconscious.

“Hey,” Silas said. “You still awake back there?”

She opened her eyes lazily. “Hmm? Oh yes. Just relaxing.” Maybe her strategy would work.

Silas stopped walking. The sound of the waves crashed louder. He slid her body forward until her toes touched wet sand. She faced him, hands on his arms, his own tight around the small of her back. Frigid seawater rushed over her heels. She stifled a yelp at the icy cold.

“There,” he said. “Told you you’d get wet.”

She ran her hand along his biceps. His wet, sand-colored hair lay swept across his forehead, long enough to be a bit shaggy but short enough to be irresistibly cute. And those eyes . . . She swallowed and bit her lip. She was smitten. How had this happened? She was a U.S. Forest Service pilot. Could there be anything more old hat than a smokejumper? So why did she quiver like a cup of Jell-O? She traced her fingers over his chest. In the neoprene wetsuit he actually did resemble a lean, chiseled superhero. Just for her.

He glanced at the sunset and then looked into her eyes. “I agree with the song, you know.”

“About Green Lantern?”

“About when you’ve made your mind up, forever to be . . .” He held her gaze for a moment longer, then searched the sand near them. “Here.” He knelt and broke off a thin strand of dried kelp.

Elle tented her eyebrows. “Ew.”

He smiled. “What do you mean, ‘Ew?’ Look.” He threaded it between his fingers, brushing off the sand. “Fashioned by the sea and purified by the sun.”

The water washed around her ankles, the sand burying her toes. The cold was no longer so shocking.

“Let me see your hand.”

Elle reached out her right hand.

“Not that one. The left one.”

Something fluttered in Elle’s breast. She hesitated and lifted her hand. He took the ring finger.

She shook her head. “Uh-uh. That one is reserved.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it now? For whom?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“Okay. How about the right, then.”

She nodded and offered it.

“This is what I mean.” He took the seaweed and tied it around her right ring finger. She looked up from it.

He shuffled backward, dancing. “ ‘Superman or Green Lantern ain’t got nothing on me.’ ”

———

Silas returned, cleaned up and wearing a fresh navy blue Redding Smokejumpers T-shirt and a pair of multi-pocketed Forest Service–issue dark green pants. She watched as he greeted Madison at the crew compartment door. Maddie perked up from her doldrums and put on her best ladylike manners. Funny, she never did that with the jumpers back in Oregon.

“Madison, this is Mr. Kent. He’s going to be joining us on our flight to Oakland.”

Maddie nodded to Silas. “Good to meet you. You can sit in the back.”

“Maddie—”

“It’s all right.” Silas slightly raised a hand and addressed Madison. “You know, I feel right at home in the back.”

“That’s good. ’Cause my mom needs to fly in front, and I need to read the maps. But if you want, I can bring you stuff.”

“Bring me stuff?”

“Yeah. Like when you’re on a plane and a lady brings you stuff like soda and cookies.”

Silas scratched his chin. “Well, I guess that would make riding in the back less lonely.”

Maddie’s eyebrows angled and she nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want you to be lonely. It’ll be fun. Let me ask my mom if you can sit in the front, too. Mom—”

“Yes, dear. That’d be fine.” She put a hand on her arm. “Can you do me a favor and show Mr. Kent the copilot seat in the cockpit?”

“Sure. C’mon, Mr. Kent.” Maddie cupped a hand by her mouth and leaned toward him. “But don’t flip any switches. My mom gets mad when you touch stuff.” They disappeared into the plane.

Elle bit her cheek. What was she doing? She started her walk around the plane, running a hand along the hull. She clasped the diagonal wing support with one hand and stepped around the tire. From the cockpit-door window Madison waved to her, Silas smiling behind her.

She was already regretting saying yes to bringing him along. Like all jumpers, he was a proven risk. A big one. He thrived on the unpredictable, on being unfettered. She had to be honest with herself. What could have really changed with him? The man jumped into fires for a living.

She’d already been burned by him once.

Elle reeled in her emotions. She felt better with a sense of control over the situation. Guard against the charm. She could read stormy skies. And she knew how to navigate unpredictable weather.

This would be a ride along. Little more. They’d perhaps reminisce on old times, smooth over some hurts, but that was that.

Some relationships were beyond redemption.

———

Elle’s voice entered Silas’s ears through the headset speakers. “Did you see that lightning flash, Maddie? . . . Maddie? Baby, you’re missing it.” She let out a quick, humored breath. “She’s conked out already.”

“Everything is a miracle at this age, unless you’re too tired to stay up for it.” He gritted his teeth as soon as he said it. Who was he to say something like that? As though he understood what it was like to be a parent. What did he know about things looking like miracles at Maddie’s age? Elle must think him such a joke.

Silas looked back at the crew cabin, at the swaying netted webbing, at the chrome D-rings and the bold-typed warning instructions beside the door latch.

Actually, he did know. He remembered. Despite everything.

Elle sighed—soft, relaxed—somehow asking the perfect question, “Do you remember much about being five?”