The Forest Ranger's Husband (12 page)

Matt stood frozen, too overcome by emotion to speak for several moments. Finally he whispered, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

He returned to the couch where he offered a silent prayer of gratitude, then instantly fell asleep. Both he and Davie slept late. In the morning, Matt made pancakes for breakfast. Davie helped Matt wash the dishes and do other chores around the house. Matt had never had so much fun cleaning the bathrooms.

Davie grinned as he swirled the brush around in the toilet bowl. “Won’t Mom be surprised when she sees what we’ve done?” With his little hands, Davie wasn’t very thorough, but Matt thought it important to let him help with the work.

“I think she will.” Matt squirted cleanser into the sink before scrubbing it and then the bathtub. When they finished, he made sure both he and Davie washed their hands good before hanging out fresh towels.

After dusting and running the vacuum, Matt finished folding the laundry. Davie had taken up residence on the couch
where he fell asleep watching a kid’s program. The late night before and the chores today had tired him out. The child was there when Andie came home, her ranger uniform smudged with soot and smelling of wood smoke.

“Hi,” she greeted Matt with a whisper when she saw Davie sleeping.

She set her fire pack on the floor before gazing at her son, a soft smile gracing her appealing lips. Even with her hair pulled back in a long ponytail and covered with grime, Matt thought her beautiful. Her eyes were bloodshot from smoke and creased with fatigue.

“Hi there. You look tired.” Matt squelched the urge to kiss her hello. It seemed a natural response, but he doubted she’d approve. He had to keep reminding himself that he was only babysitting. He didn’t live here. He still didn’t belong.

She let out a big sigh. “I am tired.”

They moved into the kitchen where they could talk without waking Davie. Matt got her a tall glass of ice water.

“Thanks. How did things go?” She took a sip, her gaze scanning the table where clean laundry lay folded in tidy piles.

“Great. We had a blast together.”

“You washed my laundry?” Her eyes widened.

He shrugged. “I hope it’s okay. I figured I’d make myself useful while I was here.”

She glanced around the room and sniffed. “I smell pine.”

“I mopped the floors.”

From the doorway, her gaze scanned the living room. “And you vacuumed, too.”

“And took out the garbage, dusted and scoured out the bathrooms. Davie helped, of course.”

“Wow! Thanks for being here when I needed you, Matt. I really appreciate it.” She stepped close and kissed him on the mouth, a quick hit-and-run kiss that startled both of them.

When she stepped back, her eyes widened with horror, as if just realizing what she’d done. And then he knew. She felt it, too. The comfortable atmosphere, the spontaneous actions and instinctive relationship they’d shared years earlier. The physical attraction. It was all coming back to them, yet she continued to fight it.

“I’m sure glad you’re home safe.” He’d been so worried about her, pacing the floor, checking the clock. Fearing the worst. Now he could stop fretting. She was fine.

A feeling of jubilation swept him. The chemistry between them was still there. It hadn’t died. Not in all these long, lonely years apart. Surely she still felt something more for him besides hate and anger. Dare he hope she might still love him, at least a little?

She moved away, running her fingertips across the clean countertop and sink. During their marriage, he’d rarely thanked her for cleaning their house, washing their clothes and preparing meals. Why did he deserve her gratitude now when she always did these things without a word from him?

“I never thanked you for taking such good care of our home, Andie. I have a greater appreciation for you now. You were a great wife, and I should have told you every day how much I appreciated the many things you did for me.”

She glanced at him, an endearing smudge of dirt across her chin. “You thanked me sometimes.”

“Not enough. I took you for granted. I’m sorry for that.”

She noticed the toolbox sitting beside the back door and nodded at it. “What else have you been up to?”

“Davie helped me repair the gate in the backyard. I showed him how the latch works and how to fix it. I thought he was old enough to start learning how to take care of those things.”

She glanced out the kitchen window, her mouth dropping open. “That gate has been troubling me for several weeks. I thought I’d have all these chores waiting for me when I got
home, and I’m so tired I really don’t feel up to it. You’ve taken care of everything.”

His heart swelled with joy. “It was my pleasure. After you get cleaned up, I hope you can just rest. I’m so glad you’re home safe.”

She looked at his legs. “You’re walking without your cane more and more.”

A smile spread its way across his face. He couldn’t help it. He hated the cane and didn’t miss it one bit. “I’m happy to say I’ve given it up for good. On Thursday, I hiked three miles in forty-five minutes wearing a forty-five-pound pack.”

She gasped. “You passed the arduous level of the wildfire physical?”

He nodded. “Not officially, but I’ll take the test during our fire-training school in two weeks.”

“Oh, Matt. I know that must have been so hard. It’s wonderful.” She rested a hand on his arm, her eyes filled with genuine happiness for his accomplishment.

Tremors of awareness shot up his arm. He looked down, then gazed into her eyes and stepped closer. His hands lifted of their own volition, twining around her arms. Pulling her closer. She didn’t fight him. Didn’t look away or try to avoid him. She gazed into his eyes, her mouth softened with a smile. Maybe she could finally forgive him. Maybe—

“Hi, Mommy!” Davie startled them apart.

“Davie! Oh, I missed you.” Andie knelt before her son and hugged him tight.

He pulled back, his nose crinkling with distaste. “You’re squashing my eye and you stink.”

Andie laughed. “I smell like a fire, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s because I’ve been fighting a wildfire.”

“You need a bath,” Davie said.

“And a change of clothes,” she agreed with a laugh.

Taking her cue, Matt stepped toward the door. He ruffled Davie’s hair as he passed by. “And I need to do my exercises. I’ll be going now. See you around, hotshot.”

“Ah, can’t you stay? Do you have to go?” Davie asked.

“Afraid so.”

“But why can’t you just live here with us?”

Matt didn’t respond, but his gaze locked with Andie’s. An expression of confusion and embarrassment crossed her face, her eyes filled with dread. The physical closeness they’d just shared had taken them both off guard. Now her defenses seemed to have gone back up. He released a deep sigh, knowing she still wasn’t ready to forgive him.

Andie accompanied him out onto the front porch, her arms folded across her dirty forest ranger shirt. “Will you be at church tomorrow?”

He turned on the first step, holding the railing, wishing he could stay. “Yes. Are you worried I might embarrass you?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. He saw sincerity in her eyes. “No, I was just wondering when we’d see you again.”

He smiled. “That’s good. Because I sure want to see
you
again.”

She turned her head and stared at the grass, her mouth tight. Her shoulders tensed, as if she were about to step off a precipice and fall on the sharp rocks far below. “Sue and Brett are out of town. Why don’t you plan to come over here for Sunday dinner? Davie would like that, and I owe you for all the work you did here at home.”

A long breath escaped his lungs. Finally. Finally she’d invited him over of her own free will. “I gladly accept, but you owe me nothing, babe. Nothing at all. I’m just trying to take care of my family the best way I know how.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her face filled with color, and she turned and went back inside.

As Matt walked to his truck, his chuckle turned into happy
laughter. He’d called her babe and she hadn’t chastised him for it. Just before climbing inside his truck, he raised his hands in the air and yelled, “Yes!”

They’d made substantial headway. She’d trusted him alone with Davie and invited him over for dinner. If only he could forget the nightmares still plaguing him. If only…

He hated thinking about the wildfire, but couldn’t help it. How he wished it hadn’t happened. If only he hadn’t lost radio contact with the lookout. He should have been more vigilant. More careful.

And yet, the wildfire had brought him back home to Andie and his son. It had set him on a path to God. He couldn’t regret the closeness he’d developed with the Lord over the past months. But how could he reconcile what had happened with Jim? He was gone and Matt could never bring him back.

A forlorn ache deep in his soul told him he could never be completely happy again until he resolved the guilt he felt over losing his crewman. He longed for Jim’s forgiveness and felt bereft, knowing he might never have it.

“Y
ou’re early.” Matt smiled at Andie when she arrived at Taylor Park at 6:00 a.m. on Monday morning.

“I figured you could use the extra help. We’ve got a lot to do today. How many recruits will we be training this week?” An air of excitement pulsed through her veins as she breathed in the crisp morning air. She tried to tell herself it was because of the many training events she would be teaching and had nothing to do with the handsome man standing beside her.

“About three hundred and fifty new recruits and another eighty men and women needing recertification in various aspects of wildfire fighting.”

Dressed in spruce-green Nomex pants and a yellow wildfire-fighting shirt, she’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail to keep it out of her eyes. With her sunglasses perched atop her head, she folded her Nomex gloves securely inside one of the wide cargo pockets on her pants.

Even at this hour, people milled around the park, folding up bedrolls, dressed in a variety of exercise shorts and fire-fighting gear. At least seventy tents sat in tidy rows across the grass where trainees had slept the night before. Many re
cruits had opted to stay in the local motel or were driving in from the surrounding towns.

“You’ve done a great job organizing this training event. I can see this took a lot of effort.” She couldn’t help admiring Matt’s hard work. She’d attended trainings where everyone ran around in confusion. But not today. She’d forgotten how good Matt was at his job.

Matt chuckled, the dimple in his cheek deepening. “I figure if I feed everyone well, they’ll overlook possible moments of chaos. I’ve got a good logistics chief.”

She understood his reasoning. Crew members frequently expended up to six thousand calories per day fighting wildfire. Crews had to be fed well or they’d start collapsing with heat exhaustion and overwork.

Catering trailers with exterior counters and wide roll-up windows stood in the east parking lot. Picnic tables sat close by where hordes of recruits chatted and ate a hearty breakfast of biscuits and gravy, hot cereals, pancakes, eggs, juice, bacon and sausage.

Rows of portable toilets and trailers with showers lined the inner perimeter of the west parking lot. Eight yellow school buses able to carry sixty-five people each waited along the edge of the road. The buses would transport the recruits up the mountain to the staging area where crews of twenty men and women would start a controlled burn. By the end of the week, all trainees would participate in hands-on wildfire fighting or be recertified in map and pumper-truck work.

Before anything else, new recruits and people like Matt would either pass their work capacity test or not. Those who didn’t succeed would be counseled to return home, train a few more weeks, and try again later. Firefighters who couldn’t keep up during an emergency evacuation endangered the lives of every person on their crew. They must be physically fit.

“You ready for your physical?” From beneath lowered lashes, Andie admired Matt’s lean, strong body dressed in workout clothes. He wore a radio chest harness across his white T-shirt for communication purposes, light blue sweat-pants and sneakers.

“I am. I’ve been warming up for an hour. I can’t wait to finish this. I trained in my wildland fire boots, knowing they were heavier. I thought it’d give me an edge during the real test.”

From his animated expression, she realized passing the work capacity test wasn’t just about being fit enough to fight wildfire. It also represented a great victory of rehabilitating his body after a tragic event that had nearly cost his life.

“Matt, I—I’m proud of you.” The concession came hard for her, but she couldn’t help admiring the indomitable man she’d married. In spite of the adversity he’d faced, he’d come back fighting harder than ever. He was trying so hard to make things right. Maybe she shouldn’t make it so difficult for him.

“I appreciate that. Your approval means everything to me.”

She returned his smile. “You’ve earned it.”

“Well, I didn’t come in with a lot of time to spare three days ago when I hiked the course. I’m a bit nervous about finishing in time.”

His confession softened her. She doubted he’d confide such a thing to anyone else. The fact that he’d told her made her feel closer to him. Like a special confidant he trusted with his deepest secrets. Memories of the closeness they’d once shared filled her mind. They used to tell each other everything. When he’d returned to her life a few months ago, she hadn’t wanted to know anything about him. Now she couldn’t help cheering for him. How could that be?

They walked together to the command station, a long trailer that had been brought in and set up with maps, phones, desks and computers. Matt showed not a hint of a limp,
moving with his old sleek grace. Seeing him in this environment made Andie feel all warm inside. She loved this man in a uniform. She always had. He appeared so strong and in control. Like the man she’d married years earlier, only different. This man seemed to be all of the good she’d hoped for and none of the bad. He’d changed and evolved into a considerate, caring, confident man who knew what he wanted and went after it with gusto.

A surge of pride enveloped Andie’s chest. Approximately four hundred and fifty recruits from the Nevada Department of Forestry, the Forest Service and the Bureau of Land Management were participating in the week-long schedule.

Since she’d already passed the arduous level of the physical fitness, Andie would teach fire safety, fire-line construction, and serve as a timer on the fitness course.

She glanced at Matt, noticing he’d gotten his hair cut high and tight again, like a U.S. Marine going into battle. “You know, as the Operations Section Chief, you’re only required to pass the medium-level physical.”

“I know.”

“Then why push yourself so hard?”

“First, because I won’t ask something of my crews that I can’t do myself. Second, because I hate walking with a cane. I knew if I could pass the arduous level, I’d rehabilitate my legs. It’s hurt like a mother bear, but I made it. No more cane.”

His voice carried a lilting quality that showed his happiness and relief. Easy to understand. And yet, any ordinary man would have settled for less.

With the help of ten trainers directing foot traffic, Matt used a megaphone to call the recruits to the buses. Some would begin classroom training while others would pass their physicals. Those recertifying on skills such as chainsaws and tree felling would accompany specific trainers.

The ride up the mountain took over an hour. As he directed the recruits and delegated responsibilities, Matt seemed tense, constantly looking at his watch. Andie figured he’d be nervous until he passed his test.

By the time they arrived at the fitness course, Andie took the lead. Using Matt’s megaphone, she called out instructions to the first group of men and women eager to pass their physical training.

“You have fifteen minutes to warm up before we begin. Then you will line up in rows of six across. The number pinned to your shirt will tell us who you are, so don’t lose it.”

She paused while everyone stretched and strapped on their weight vests before lining up in neat rows. A scale was used to weigh each person’s vest, to ensure they started and ended with the appropriate amount of weight for their specific training level. Then Andie began the test.

“Welcome. You are about to take a job-related work capacity test to determine your fitness for duty.”

She continued reading from a script, to ensure she didn’t miss any instructions. Three out of the five days of training would include national standardized training. Through the crowd of recruits, she caught sight of Matt standing with several highly trained professionals who also needed to renew their physical certification. Matt listened carefully, his jaw locked, his face tight with concentration.

She continued. “Jogging or running will result in disqualification. You are free to stop at any time for any reason, but you must finish the course within forty-five minutes. A walking staff may be used. Are there any questions?”

A young recruit that looked fresh out of high school raised his hand.

“Yes?” Andie gazed at him.

“Can we carry water with us?”

“Absolutely, but it is not included in the forty-five pounds of your weight vest.”

Another hand shot up, and Andie nodded at the young woman.

“Are we allowed to remove our weight vest during the course?”

“No. You should already know that. Your vest will be weighed at the end of the course. If it doesn’t weigh exactly forty-five pounds, you will be disqualified. We have spotters along the course to ensure your safety, but also to ensure the integrity of the test. So leave your vest on and do your best. This isn’t a race against anyone but yourself. Are there any more questions?”

A hush fell over the group.

“Okay, Rick Olton will get you started.” She nodded at Rick, then left to climb aboard a four-wheeler and drive up the mountain where she took her position at the halfway mark.

Holding a stopwatch in one hand and a clipboard in the other, she stood at the side of the course and waited. As the test administrator, she had the right to consider terminating candidates who were substantially behind the required pace. Though she hoped everyone passed their physical, she knew she’d have to be tough on those who couldn’t. Being lenient would only endanger lives once the recruits were deployed to an actual wildfire incident.

For some reason, she felt jittery inside. It meant a lot to her that Matt succeed with his goals and pass this test. That puzzled her. His career had stolen their marriage. So why did she care if he passed his physical?

The answer came clear as a fire bell. She cared because it was important to him. Because she loved him, no matter how hard she tried not to. And when you loved someone,
you cared about them. Their happiness and sorrows became your own.

Within twenty minutes, trainees started passing by, most of them quite young and in superb physical condition. Andie called out their time, scanning them for signs of duress or cheating. Spotters were assigned responsibility for specific recruits and identified them by the number pinned to the trainees’ shirts. As the recruits passed by, the spotters glanced at the numbers pinned to each person’s shirt, then jotted notes on their clipboards under that specific person’s name.

Andie couldn’t believe the endurance of some of the recruits. They were strong. Even though she could easily pass this course, she was now thirty-two years old and envied the stamina of the younger trainees.

“Keep one foot on the ground at all times. No running,” she called to a trainee who was almost jogging. The kid immediately slowed his pace to a fast hike.

Matt approached, walking fast, his muscular arms pumping, his face tense. Seeing him made Andie’s heart beat faster, and she couldn’t help smiling.

“Looking good, hotshot.” The moment she said the words, she regretted them. What if he mistook her meaning?

His glittering eyes met her gaze and he nodded once, but didn’t break stride. She resisted the urge to watch him pass, forcing herself to focus on the other trainees coming up the trail. Silently, she cheered Matt on.

Come on, honey. You can do this.

She instantly regretted her line of thinking. She’d called him honey, not out loud, but the sentiment was there just the same. He spent so much time over at her house that she’d gotten comfortable around him.

Too comfortable.

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on the chore at
hand. Within forty-five minutes, eleven recruits were still on the course. Andie stopped them long enough to give them a pep talk about training harder and returning once they could pass the course.

“We’ll be offering another physical in three weeks. Call my office for details.” She handed each one her card. “That’ll give you enough time to build up more endurance and still join a summer fire crew. Don’t give up. Don’t quit. You’re almost there.”

One overweight man caused Andie a bit of concern. The recruit’s face flushed red, his breath wheezing from his mouth like a tea kettle at full boil. The number one cause of death on wildfires was heart attack, and Andie feared she might have to perform CPR on the man.

“Let’s walk it back to the starting line nice and slow,” she said.

She longed to race ahead to find out how Matt had done on the course. Instead, she remained with the out-of-shape recruit until certain he was safely on a bus making its way down the mountain.

Andie found Matt at the buses, signing task books for each job the recruits had completed and directing them so they knew where they needed to be for their next class. He’d changed into his forest service uniform, and his face glowed with contentment. Without asking, she knew he’d passed his physical.

“Hey! Come here,” Matt called out to a new recruit. The young man stopped and walked over to Matt, who reached forward and took the hand tool the kid had been carrying on his shoulder.

“Packing this Pulaski like that is a recipe for getting hurt.” The Pulaski was a hand tool that combined an ax and an adze into one head and aided firefighters in digging soil or chopping wood.

The young man’s eyes filled with uncertainty.

“What if you trip over this rough terrain?” Matt asked the kid. “You could cut your own throat carrying that ax up by your head. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen before. Instead, always carry sharp tools at your downhill side, grip the handle firmly near the head and point the ax end away from your body toward the ground like this.” Matt modeled the proper way to carry the tool.

The recruit watched carefully, then nodded. “Okay, I got it. Sorry.”

Matt handed the tool back and showed a warm smile, softening his rebuff. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re here to learn. Over the next few days, we’re gonna teach you a whole lot more. You’ll be a trained wildfire fighter by the time we’re finished with you.”

The trainee smiled, seeming to like that idea. “Thanks, sir.”

Matt clapped the young man once on the back. “You’re welcome.”