Flaming Desire - Part 4 (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (2 page)

By the time the crew truck reached its destination, I already felt tired, but I knew that I had another long, bone weary day ahead of me. I refocused my mind and dug deep into my determination to continue doing the best job I could. Sam left the seat, and I followed her. Together we joined the group of Hotshots gathered along the ridgeline. As it turned out, Sam, Matt and I, along with four other men were assigned to the high point.

Following Sam, I began to climb. Matt and the others followed, each of us separated by about ten feet or so. The ground here was loose and gravelly, studded with rocks and clusters of boulders, out of which grew saplings of aspen and pine. We were several thousand feet up. It was rugged, beautiful, and dangerous. Just to the left of the ridge was a short cliff. From my vantage point I saw, just off to the left, a steep cliff, broken about fifty yards down by a protruding shelf of rock, and then the steep slope tapered downward into a narrow valley.

The air here was choked with ash and smoke, so heavy that despite the fact that it was still early morning, it felt like dusk. I pulled the handkerchief from around my neck up over my nose and mouth. I pulled the goggles from the hard hat I wore around my eyes to protect them from burning embers, which blew gently on the early morning breeze.

Matt had yet to say anything to me, but I decided that I just had to let him be. Explanations would be pointless. My words stood for themselves. If he wasn’t comfortable with them, then there was nothing I could do about it.

I focused on my work. Today I worked more with my fire ax than with my shovel. Working near the front of the line, Sam and two others more or less generally hacked at the underbrush beside me, trying to loosen stumps. Those following behind used shovels to dig up roots, clearing as much of the underbrush as possible. Bulldozers wouldn’t be able to get up here, so we just did the best we could. Our tasks today, like yesterday, was to try to clear a roughly twenty-yard swath of underbrush from the slope in the hopes of slowing down the fire if it did top the ridge.

Hour after hour we worked. I used my ax with discretion, not trying to tackle bigger trees or brush that I knew would just be a waste of energy. Instead, I focused on hacking away branches, small saplings, and underbrush, knowing that with all of us working together, we might, just might, be able to clear a twenty-by-fifty yard swath of underbrush by the end of the day. It didn’t seem like much, but when fighting fires, every little bit helps.

Of course, if the wind picked up and swept the fire in our direction, we would have to quickly abandon our position and move back. At that point, we would only be able to hope and pray that what we had accomplished would provide some effect in slowing the spread of the fire.

I don’t know how many times I slipped to my knees because of the loose gravel underfoot. It was hard to get a foothold, especially on the slope, which felt awkward and took quite a bit more energy than I had expended yesterday. Soon my thighs were burning, my back aching, and I had to focus on tightening my grip on the ax handle so that it wouldn’t go flying every time I made a down swing.

“Take a break!”

I had just made a mighty effort to swing my ax down on a chunk of Hawthorn berry shrub, or least I thought that’s what it was, when I turned to see Matt standing just a few feet away. I shook my head, knowing that if I stopped it would be very difficult to start up again. Besides, everyone was working just as hard as I was. We had to keep up the momentum. I didn’t want to slow anyone down.

Matt seemed to understand, and to my surprise, reached out a hand and gently clapped me on the shoulder before returning to his former position and wielding his pickax. Most of us on the line carried only hand tools. Pickaxes, fire axes, or shovels; we had to do the best we could without any heavy equipment. I continued to scramble upward, foot by foot as we made our way up the slope. Sam was positioned ahead of me, the others struggling slightly down slope behind me.

We typically kept a distance of between ten to twelve feet between us, but without my realizing it, Sam had gotten nearly twenty feet ahead of me. I frowned, thinking that either I had slowed down or she was moving too quickly. I glanced behind me, saw one of the other firefighters about eight feet behind, and beyond him, Matt working on his section of the slope. I turned back toward Sam, opening my mouth to call out to her to slow down. Sam didn’t hear me, but just rounded a bend in the slope.

I jumped when I heard a scream that cut off almost as soon as it started. I looked up. Sam? Where was she?

I quickly scrambled up the slope toward where I’d last seen her, trying to catch sight of her along the way. Nothing. Where had she disappeared to? My heart thudding in increased alarm, I glanced down, saw a faint dust trail quickly dissipating in the breeze.

“Sam!” I shouted and watched in horror as she tumbled the last fifteen feet or so down the cliff’s side, flashes of her yellow jacket appearing and disappearing as she slid through the underbrush, her arms flailing as she desperately tried to grab hold of something to stop her rapid descent.

“Sam!” I screamed again, praying she could grab on to something, anything before she tumbled off the edge.

She didn’t.

My stomach tightened and my breathing stopped as she went over. Then, to my horror, she landed face first onto the narrow shelf below.

I turned down slope, where Matt and the others were scattered, working hard, oblivious to what had just happened. “Matt!” I hollered. He didn’t hear me. I yanked the handkerchief down from my face as I glanced down once more at Sam. She wasn’t moving. I quickly headed down slope, slipping and sliding. “Matt!”

He heard me and looked up, frowning. I’m certain he saw the look of alarm on my face. He paused, straightened, and then took a few steps toward me.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sam! She slid down slope, down a short cliff to a shelf below!”

Matt stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide with alarm. Then he turned and shouted over his shoulder toward the others. Several men raced up to meet him, and together, we headed back up slope to where Sam slipped over the edge.

“Shit!” Matt swore, looking down. He looked at the two men who had followed him. “We need some rope!” He grabbed his walkie, tried to alert the crew further down slope, but all he received for his efforts was a loud crackling. I tried my walkie with the same result. Either our position blocked the signal or we were too far from the other crew.

“Sam!” I hollered, trying to find a way down to her. It was steep, but possible. I took a few steps toward the edge, but a hand reached out and grabbed me, pulling me back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I swung around and gazed at Matt was surprise. “I’ve got to go down! I think I can make it—”

“You’re not going down there,” he snapped. “It’s bad enough that she went over the edge, but you can’t risk trying to get down there without a harness and rope.”

I gazed up at him; saw the look of fear in his expression. For Sam or for me? I shook my head. It didn’t matter. “We’re out of range for the walkies,” I said. “Someone is going to have to go down far enough to send a clear transmission.”

He nodded. “You go. I’ll try to get down there and see how bad she’s hurt.”

I shook my head. “Matt, what makes you think you can get down there and I can’t?”

He said nothing as we all stood at the top of the slope, gazing down at Sam, lying still on the shelf about fifty feet down.

“One of the guys near the base of the line has rope. If we had that, I can rappel down there,” said one of the other men, gazing between Matt and Sam lying below. “I’m a rock climber, so I could probably get down there without it, but getting her back up is the problem.”

Matt shook his head. “We’re probably going to need the Stokes basket,” he muttered.

I saw him looking at me, frowning. I couldn’t quite understand why he was giving me such a look. Before I could say anything, ask anything, he gestured with his chin.

“Hurry up, Jesse… get down slope and send a transmission as soon as you get within range. If you pass one of the others on your way down that has rope, send him up.”

With that, he turned away from me. I stared at him a moment and then realized that now was not the time to ask a bunch of stupid questions. I had no idea why he thought I couldn’t go down and help, but I wasn’t about to waste precious time arguing. I turned and began to scramble down slope, nearly tripping several times in my haste.

After I had descended about one hundred yards, I began to see some of the other Hotshots. They saw me coming and paused in their work, instinctively knowing that something was wrong. I quickly told them of the accident and told them we needed rope. One of the men I spoke to pointed, telling me that there was a guy a short distance around a crook in the trail who carried rope slung over his shoulder.

I dashed down as soon as I heard that, and in a matter of another minute or two, had spotted the man. His back was to me as I ran up to him. I quickly tapped him on the shoulder and when he turned toward me I told him he was needed up slope, there had been an accident, and they needed his rope. Without a word, he quickly began to ascend while I continued to descend.

Every twenty yards or so I checked my walkie, but I still wasn’t receiving a signal. I think I stopped every twenty or thirty yards to check. What the hell use were these things if I couldn’t transmit or receive? It seemed to take forever before I was able to transmit.

Shaking with exhaustion, adrenaline, and relief, I informed base camp of the accident location, requested a rescue chopper, and then, following acknowledgment, I sank down onto my haunches, my knees and legs trembling with exhaustion.

I sat like that for several minutes, fighting back tears, praying that Sam would be okay. My emotions were in a turmoil, not only because of Sam’s accident and worry for her, but because of everything that had happened since I’d arrived. I was sad, afraid…, and pissed. Afraid and sad that I might very well have ruined everything with Matt, and pissed that I cared.

Still, I couldn’t dwell on my own personal problems for long. I needed to get back up there, to help in any way I could. Looking up the mountainside, I shook my head and then forged upward.

By the time I made it a quarter of the way back up slope, I heard the rumble of a chopper passing overhead, heading toward the area where Sam had fallen. I hoped that she hadn’t been hurt too badly, but that had been quite a fall.

By the time I reached the others, now gathered at the top of the slope, I was about ready to collapse with exhaustion. Leaning against a tree to catch my breath, I peered down. It looked like two guys, one of them Matt, had managed to make their way down to Sam. She was lying face up now, but I couldn’t tell if she was conscious. The helicopter hovered overhead, the Stokes basket slowly lowering on its cable. In a matter of moments, Matt and the other guy had loaded Sam into the basket, strapped her in, and then gestured for the helicopter to bring her up.

The helicopter hovered in place while the Stokes basket was reeled back into its yawning opening before it quickly turned a one-eighty degree turn and zoomed off toward base camp. I watched as Matt and the other guy slowly made their way back up, hand over hand up the rope that they had tied around a nearby tree trunk. I watched with bated breath until I saw Matt reappear over the edge; first his head, then his shoulders, his waist, and then he pulled himself back onto the slope, not fifteen feet away from me. I wanted to rush toward him, embrace him, but I couldn’t.

He rested on his hands and his knees, gasping for breath, his head hanging low. The other firefighter appeared a minute or so later, equally tired. The others slowly and wordlessly drifted back to their former positions, but I remained were I was, gazing down at the shelf where Sam had landed. Matt, now sitting back on his haunches, looked at me. I couldn’t fathom his expression. “How is she?”

“She took a bad fall,” he finally replied. “Contusions, bruises, a couple of broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, and likely a concussion.”

“Oh my God,” I said, my hand over my mouth. Suddenly, Matt rose to his feet, his expression dark and angry. I felt horrible. Maybe if I’d been closer to Sam, I could’ve—

“What the hell, Jesse?” His voice was angry. “How could you let that happen?”

I stared at him in surprise. “What?” My heart thumped heavily.

“How far away were you from Sam when she fell?” he demanded.

I shook my head. “I don’t know… maybe twenty feet—”

“Why weren’t you closer? You know that the slope is treacherous here! You shouldn’t have allowed so much space between you two!”

I was speechless. Finally, my frustration cut loose. “Screw you, Matt. We were focusing on what we were doing, not measuring the distance between us! Even if I had been closer, I doubt I would’ve been able to catch her before she slipped—”

“You might have—”

“No, Matt,” I responded, growing angry now. Now he was blaming me because Sam had slipped and fallen? I couldn’t believe it. “You know as well as I do how easy it is to get hurt doing what we do. It could easily have been me, you, or any of the other guys down there! It doesn’t mean anyone was being careless! It happens!” He said nothing. “Now I hope to God that Sam is okay, but don’t you dare blame me for what happened!”