Читать книгу Facing the Fire - Gail Barrett - Страница 9

Cade strode around the roadblock and peered down at the river snaking through the rock-strewn valley. Months of drought had shrunk it back from its broad banks, exposing rocks and stranded deadfall. But even now, in this weakened state, it wouldn’t be easy to cross.

“I can’t believe this,” Jordan said from beside him. “Why would anyone take out the bridge?”

Her voice floated to him in the dim light, and the low, throaty sound tightened his nerves. He forced himself to ignore that temptation and concentrate on the problem at hand. “The mining company probably built it. They wouldn’t want to maintain it after they shut down. And nobody uses this road.”

“Except for us.”

“Yeah.” Which was their bad luck, but he hadn’t expected the trail to be problem-free. In fact, he was surprised they’d made it this far.

Jordan crossed her arms. “So now what? Should we turn around?”

He started to shake his head, but the stabbing pain stopped him cold. “Too dangerous. We need to keep going in case the fire turns.”

“You think there’s another bridge?”

“No, we’ll just have to cross without one. The bank isn’t steep,” he added. “The Jeep can make it down.”

Her eyes widened, and even in the low light he could see her alarm. “But what about the water? How do we get through that?”

He kept his gaze steady on hers, hoping she wouldn’t panic. “I’m guessing it’s pretty shallow with the drought we’ve had. But we won’t know for sure until we’re in it.”

Her hand rose to her throat. He wished he could spare her this. He worked with danger and risked his life every day. But she’d always been more vulnerable, in need of protection. Or so he’d thought.

“If you want, we can leave the Jeep here and wade across,” he said slowly. “I can come back later and pick it up.”

“But then we’d have to hike to that road. And what if the fire turns? Wouldn’t it be better if we had the Jeep?”

“Maybe.” Depending on the path the fire took.

She turned toward the river again. The Jeep’s high beams reflected off the thrashing water. The scent of moisture permeated the air. “I guess we’d better drive it across,” she finally said. “But shouldn’t we wait until morning?”

“More light won’t help that much.” The real danger lay under the water, with river rocks and mud. “And the way that front is moving, I’d rather cross tonight, at least get a firebreak between us and the fire.” Even then, sparks could blow across, but he didn’t mention that. She already looked anxious enough.

Her long sigh cut through the dusk. “All right, but you’d better drive. This is totally out of my league.”

If only he could. He tried to lift his right arm, but sharp pain blazed through his shoulder, a deep, dizzying spasm that burned from his neck to his ribs. Hell. His damned arm was practically useless.

He clenched his jaw and sucked in his breath, willing the ache to subside. He’d always been the strong one, the man who took all the risks. Sure, he relied on his smokejumping bros, but that was part of the job.

But this weakness, this damned dependency…

His stomach balled, and something close to panic rocked his nerves. It was only temporary, for God’s sake. He wasn’t a permanent ground-pounder. He’d be back on the jump list in no time.

But it was still damned hard to admit. He forced his fist to uncurl. “You’ll have to do it. I can’t shift with my shoulder this bad.”

The rushing water filled the stark silence. He felt Jordan’s gaze on him, and his pulse slugged hard through his head, as if he’d just run the PT test. God, he hated being weak.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll try.”

He flicked his gaze to hers, but didn’t see condemnation. The knot slowly eased in his gut.

But then, she’d always had that effect on him. She’d been his oasis, his refuge, offering him the comfort and solace he’d craved.

“Do you want to make that sling now?” she asked.

“Later, after we cross the river. We can take a break on the other side.”

Her eyes searched his. Her delicate brows wrinkled with worry, not for her own safety, but for his. His resentment slipped another notch.

And suddenly, he wanted to move closer, to feel that gentle warmth. To bask in her approval, her acceptance. Her love.

And that was as dangerous as the fire. He couldn’t let down his defenses. This woman had the power to destroy him, just as she’d done before.

He’d barely survived it the first time. He’d spent months enraged, so bitter he could barely sleep. Always doubting, forever questioning, wondering what on earth he’d done wrong. And he’d be damned if he’d suffer through that hell again.

He yanked his mind to the river and stepped back. “We’d better go.” Without waiting for her to answer, he circled the roadblock and strode to the back of the Jeep. Once there, he popped the rear window, picked up the nylon rope and tossed it on top of his PG bag.

A few seconds later, Jordan joined him. And despite his resolve, her soft, feminine scent invaded his space and heightened his senses. Annoyed by his reaction, he stepped away. “You’d better put a bag together,” he told her. “In case we have to bail out midstream.”

He heard her suck in her breath. He didn’t want to scare her, but they had to prepare. “I doubt you’ll need it,” he added.

“I know.” But her hands trembled as she dumped out an athletic bag full of toiletries. She pulled a blanket and clothes from various bags, along with food from the cooler and a plastic bowl. “For the dog,” she explained.

She zipped the bag closed and dropped it on the backseat. The dog raised his head and whined.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “We’re not going to leave you here.”

She meant that, Cade knew. She would risk her own life before she abandoned that dog. Of course, he’d once thought she was that committed to him.

Shoving aside a rush of resentment, he closed the rear window, walked back to the passenger door and climbed in. Pain bolted down his shoulder with the movement. He panted quietly, sucking in fast, shallow breaths until the spasm passed, knowing this wasn’t the time to be weak.

Jordan slid into the driver’s seat and closed her door. She latched her seat belt, and her uncertain gaze met his.

“Ready?” he managed as the pain edged back to an ache.

“I guess so.” Her gaze moved over his chest. “Do you want me to help with your seat belt?”

“No.” He’d rather suffer than have her that close.

“This could get bumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Let’s just go.”

“If you say so.” Looking doubtful, she shoved the Jeep into gear, tightened her grip on the wheel and backed up.

“Try going down by that tree.” He pointed to an alder tree still visible on the bank downstream.

“All right.”

He gritted his teeth as the Jeep bumped over the rocky ground to the bank, which sloped gradually down to the river. The moon hadn’t risen yet, but the headlights cut through the mounting darkness. The water gleamed as it floated past.

Jordan stopped and adjusted her hands on the wheel. Her knuckles shone in the dashboard’s light and she inhaled sharply. “Here goes.”

The Jeep tipped, and she quickly slammed on the brakes, throwing him forward. “I’m sorry!” she gasped as he hit the dashboard.

Pain stabbed his shoulder, and nausea flooded his gut. Stifling a groan, he shoved himself back in his seat. “Keep going.”

She edged up her foot and they rushed ahead, bumped over a rock, then stopped. Feeling dazed, he sucked in his breath. “You’re doing great,” he ground out.

She slanted him a skeptical glance. “Sure, as long as you don’t mind getting whiplash.”

They sped forward again, dropped into a pothole, tipped to the side and jolted out. Struggling for balance, Cade braced his boot against the dashboard.

The Jeep lurched over another rock and stopped abruptly, ramming his knee to his chest. A spasm racked his shoulder and he fought down another groan. Forget whiplash. If she kept this up, he’d pass out before they reached the bottom.

But a few feet later, the bank mercifully flattened, and she let up on the brakes. The Jeep bounced down to the riverbed then stopped with a sudden jerk.

They both exhaled. A second later, her gaze met his. “Stage one. Now to get us through that water.”

Cade’s mouth curved up, and he felt a glimmer of pride, much like he did for his rookies. Despite her inexperience and fear, she’d pulled through.

“Any special route I should take?” she asked.

He turned his attention back to the river. The headlights lit the swirling current but the water beyond that was nearly black. “Not that I can tell. Get closer and we’ll see how it looks.”

“All right.” Small stones and branches crunched under the tires as she drove forward. The Jeep jostled over the uneven ground, but didn’t slip. When they reached the water, she braked.

He peered through the windshield. The water trickled harmlessly along the river’s edges, skirting rocks and splitting into shallow side streams. But yards of dark, unbroken water stretched across the center.

“You think we can cross it?” she asked, her voice tight.

“We’ll find out soon enough.” His gaze met hers and he saw the anxiety crowding her eyes. “Hey.” He lifted his hand to touch her, to stroke away the worry and soothe the rapid drum of her pulse. Then he stopped. She wasn’t his to touch anymore.

He dropped his hand to his knee. “You’ll do fine.”

“Right.” She managed a strained smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and flicked her gaze back to the river. Then she sat up straighter, eased out the clutch and drove in.

Cade stuck his head out the window to watch. The water barely moistened the hubcaps. “It’s just a few inches deep.”

“Should I go faster?”

“No, this is good.”

The Jeep rolled steadily forward, swaying and bumping over rocks. The smell of water spread through the cooling night air. He glanced at Jordan and saw that she’d glued both hands to the wheel. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t know.” She nibbled her lip. “I wish we didn’t have so far to go.”

“We’ll get through it.”

She shot him a quick glance. “You think so? It looks like it’s getting deeper.”

“Yeah.” Ignoring his throbbing shoulder, he leaned out the window again. The water had inched to the top of the hubcaps. “But we’re still okay.” At least they hadn’t sunk into mud.

They drove further into the river, and the water continued to rise. The Jeep tipped on a rock, and she righted it with a splash.

“Cade…”

“I know.” He frowned at the water creeping toward the axle, then shifted his gaze to the shore. Hell. They weren’t going to make it after all.

Resigned, he pulled his head back inside. “Okay, we’d better turn ar—”

A metallic screech rent the air, and the Jeep abruptly stopped. Oh, hell.

“What happened?” Jordan asked, her voice high. “What did we hit?”

“A rock, probably.” Under the water where they couldn’t see it.

“Oh, God.”

He kept his tone calm. “It’s all right. Let’s try backing up and see if we can dislodge it.”

She shoved the gearshift into Reverse and pressed on the gas. The tires spun, but the Jeep didn’t move. She stopped, inhaled sharply, then tried again.

“Not too fast.” He hung his head out the window as water streamed up the door. “Okay, a little harder.”

She hit the gas and the engine’s fan came on. “Not too much,” he cautioned. She slowed, but then the engine sputtered and missed. “Stop!” He jerked his head back inside.

“What’s wrong?” Jordan asked. The Jeep vibrated roughly, coughing and stumbling badly.

“Water probably got into the engine.”

“Water? But how do we—”

The vehicle bucked, jolting them forward, then died.

The river’s rush filled the sudden silence. Water splashed past in the light of the Jeep’s high beams. “Try to start it,” he said.

She cranked the engine. It churned and whined in the silence. She turned it off and tried again.

“You might as well stop,” he finally said when it didn’t catch. “We’ll have to let it dry out.”

“How long will that take?”

“Hard to say. A few hours maybe.”

“A few hours!” Her gaze flew to his. “But we can’t just sit here and wait.”

“No.” He kept his gaze steady on hers. “We need to keep going. We’ll come back later and tow the Jeep.”

She bit her lip as that shock registered, and tension tightened her elegant jaw. But after several long seconds, she nodded. “So how do you want to do this?”

His respect for her rose. She was a fighter; he’d give her that much. Despite the setback, she didn’t balk.

He returned his gaze to the river. “We can use the rope. We’ll tie it off to the bumper.”

“You think it’s that deep?”

“Probably not, but the rocks could be slick. We’ll hold on to it for balance.”

“What about the dog?”

“He can swim.”

“But what if he goes the wrong way? He might head back toward the fire.”

He frowned back at the dog huddled behind his seat. The dog’s worried gaze lifted to his. “I’ve still got that beef jerky in my bag. Won’t he follow the smell of that?”

“Not if he’s scared.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “I can carry him across first, then come back and help with the bags.”

The muscles along his jaw flexed. He wasn’t that damn helpless. “I’ll carry the bags. And if you’re that worried about the dog, tie him to the other end of the rope. Then you can pull him along.”

“That’s a great idea.” Her lips curved, and her blatant approval blocked the air in his lungs.

And without warning, the old dizziness seeped through his brain. That heady, off-kilter feeling that made him want to promise the moon. To do anything to feel her admiration, her respect.

Jordan grabbed her bag from the backseat and stuffed her purse inside. Then she propped it between the seats and picked up the rope. “Are you going to take off your boots?”

Still feeling light-headed, he pulled his attention back to the problem at hand. “No, the rocks could be sharp.”

“Then I’ll keep my tennis shoes on.” She handed him the rope, then pushed her seat farther back. Rising to one knee, she bent and lifted the dog. “You really do stink,” she said as she slid with him into her seat. She kissed the top of his head and rubbed his ears. “But we’re still not going to leave you.”

She shot Cade a grin. “At least he’ll get a bath out of this.”

Impressed that she could joke under pressure, he shook his head. She was a trooper, all right. And that lethal combination of feminine warmth and grit made her hard to resist.

“Tie this to his collar.” He handed her the end of the rope. “We’ll hook the other end to the bumper and hold on to that.”

“Got it.” She threaded the rope under the dog’s collar and secured the knot. Then she took a deep breath to gather her courage and pushed on her door. It didn’t budge, so she shoved again, hard.