Читать книгу Expectant Father - Melinda Curtis - Страница 9

“THAT WAS FUN,” Spider mumbled to Golden as they made their way back slowly to the mess area.

“Oh, yeah. Pulling teeth should be this fun,” Golden answered. “If Lexie’s been talking to Socrates about getting me into a safer job—”

“Your wife wouldn’t do that,” Spider quickly cut Golden off. “She’s so not like that.”

Golden sighed. “I know.”

“But I feel for you, man. It would really suck to be on the IC team right now.”

“Not that your opinion means much, Spider.” Socrates spoke dryly as he passed the pair. “I’d even pull you on to the IC team if I thought your antics would do us any good. In fact, just so you get a taste of it, I’d like you to discuss your experience today with Becca Thomas before you head out tomorrow. The more she knows about this fire, the better off we’ll be.”

Spider swore under his breath and stopped in his tracks, letting Socrates proceed alone. Had the Fire Behavior Analyst requested he talk to her since he’d avoided her all afternoon? Was this her way of punishing him for her injury?

“Damn, Spider. You really know how to put your foot in your mouth.” Golden laughed. “He’s gonna put you on the IC team just for spite.”

“That’s not funny.” Like most Hot Shots, just the thought of being corralled in camp gave Spider the hives. He’d become a Hot Shot because he loved the physical challenge, the adrenaline rush and being outdoors six to eight months a year.

Golden looked relaxed now that it seemed Spider might be the Incident Commander’s minion of choice. “Socrates is right about one thing. You need to stop and think every once in awhile. I’m glad the race downhill wasn’t my idea.”

Spider tossed up his hands in mock innocence. “First you egg me on, then you abandon my tactics. Thanks for the support, fearless leader.”

“You know what I mean. You and The Queen weren’t getting along before this. Socrates is right. With no love lost between you, she could file a harassment claim against you.”

Spider had first noticed Victoria slacking just before they’d been certified in the spring. He’d mentioned it to Golden back then, but he’d told Spider he thought it was preseason jitters. That hadn’t been the case. Now at the end of the season, Victoria was endangering her life and those of the crew with every mistake she made.

“I saved her bacon on the mountain today. Maybe she needs more training. Maybe sooner rather than next year.”

“Maybe.” Golden almost sounded convinced. “She was fine earlier this season, but she’s struggled through the past couple of fires.”

Relief teased at Spider’s tired brain. Sure, there were a couple of rookies he worried about, but no one on his unit of eight men—half of the Silver Bend crew—made him more anxious than Victoria. If he could get her out of danger, the team would be that much stronger. Maybe this fire assignment wasn’t so bad after all. “Okay, let’s send her back home or something.”

“I don’t think we need to go that far.”

Spider stopped and grabbed Golden’s shoulder. He’d been so close to improving their crew’s safety. “Whoa. She’s a liability, man. One mistake after another. She’s not cutting it with Logan’s unit.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to shift her into yours.” Golden grinned.

“What?” It was bad enough to have a royal screwup on your crew, add that to the fact that she was the girliest girl in the history of the Hot Shots and that she was reporting to him. Uh-uh.

“Here’s your chance to put your money where your mouth is, Spider,” Golden goaded. “You always said it’s your fault if someone on your unit isn’t performing.”

“But this is different. We’re in the field and she’d dead weight.” Spider looked around searching for any reason Victoria shouldn’t report to him. He’d only worry more, which would affect his performance. Pretty soon, Golden would be sending Spider to be retrained. Being sent to extra training courses at NIFC when you weren’t switching jobs was like stamping a big “L” on your forehead. So, he reached for the first thing that came to mind—to stop Victoria from being assigned to him. “For crying out loud, Golden, she’s got nail polish on.”

“Yeah, and she uses a napkin and a fork.” Golden shook his head. “Come on, let’s go tell her.”

“Now?” Victoria was sitting with the pregnant Fire Behavior Analyst, the one person he bet could influence Socrates when it came to base camp special assignments.

This day kept getting better and better.

“HOW DID YOU MANAGE IT?” Victoria asked Becca. They sat with full plates in front of them at one of the picnic tables NIFC had set up in a small clearing, surrounded by towering pine trees.

Becca had to chew the rubbery spaghetti a bit before she could reply. “Manage what?”

“To last so long in a man’s world.”

“It’s not a man’s world anymore.” Becca struggled to make her words sound convincing. The farther she climbed up the management ladder, the less she could say about the way it really was in the system. She didn’t know Victoria at all, and, much as she wanted to, she wasn’t going to agree with her about the barriers women still faced in wildland firefighting ten minutes after meeting her.

Becca picked up an apple and wiped it with a napkin to keep herself from admitting anything. She’d accepted her dinner invitation to help Victoria, not ruin her chances at that promotion. A quick glance showed her that all the men in IC, including Carl, were congregated at a table on the other side of the mess area.

Victoria looked at her closely, then sighed. “So if I say I’m going to file a harassment suit against the Department of Forestry because my crew ran down the mountain, flags waving out of their boxers, you’re going to tell me I should, right?” Despite the bandages around her wrists, Victoria had delicate hands with short nails painted a beautiful shade of red. She pointed at Becca, her disappointment evident in every word. “You don’t understand. It’s different out there.”

Becca did understand. It wasn’t that different in base camp. To succeed, a woman had to have a nearly squeaky-clean reputation, look the other way seventy-five percent of the time, as well as be quicker, smarter and tougher than a man. Becca stroked a hand around her belly. Try outdoing a man while being pregnant.

“Forget it,” Victoria said, turning her attention to her meal.

The Hot Shot’s disappointment stung because Becca and this woman had a lot in common. Both were struggling to appear as strong and capable as any man. Keeping up the facade was a tough job. For the first time since joining NIFC, Becca was tired of doing it. Granted, the pregnancy was sapping her staying power, and her pounding head wound wasn’t helping her energy level today, but mentally, Becca needed time away to regroup, even if it was only an afternoon. Time was something she didn’t have in base camp, not when she didn’t have an accomplished assistant.

While Becca stared at Victoria’s nail polish, the baby kicked her ribs as if in reprimand. Still she hesitated.

“So much for the myth of the sisterhood,” Victoria mumbled with a shake of her head.

Becca had watched out for her female colleagues most of her life. And, in their own way, they’d watched out for Becca. There were some things that only another woman would understand. The Hot Shot was right—in a man’s world, women needed to support each other.

“Off the record—” Becca put her fork down, glancing around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard “—you and I both know you can’t file a claim.” She’d be labeled trouble, and no one would hire her after that.

“I know.” Victoria pushed her spaghetti around her plate. “This is my second year as a Hot Shot. I thought the first year was tough but this year is different. Everything seems to be going wrong. Everything,” she repeated, a dejected gloss in her eyes.

“You just need to find your rhythm, that’s all.” Becca had been right to spend time with Victoria. She seemed to need a friend.

“Do you really think so?”

Becca put her hand on Victoria’s, careful of the bandages around her wrist. “Hey, if it’s worth it to you, it’s worth the sacrifice—the dirty jokes, the way they act like fifteen-year-old boys, even the skinny-dipping in that mountain stream—all the things they can do together that you can’t because you’re a woman. If you want to fight fires that much, it’s just like having a bad commute or a crummy office—you put up with it, because you’re good at it and you want this more than anything.”

“I can’t see myself doing something else. It’s stupid, but I feel as if I was destined to do it, even though it’s harder than anything I’ve ever tried before.” Victoria’s smile elicited one from Becca, who knew exactly what the Hot Shot meant. “Some of the assistant supers, well, just one of the assistant supers, gives me a pretty hard time. He’s not in charge of my unit, thank heavens, but he…” She glanced up. “Here he comes.”

To Becca’s dismay, Aiden was bearing down upon them with Jackson. She swung one leg over the bench to leave. She’d been lucky—if offended—so far in that Aiden didn’t remember her. Just how far would luck take her?

“Don’t go,” Victoria whispered, a plea in her eyes that Becca wanted to ignore. The woman needed more backbone if she wanted to succeed out here.

Becca hesitated long enough for the men to stop at their table. If she left now, she’d have to acknowledge Aiden. Sensing her agitation, the baby hiccuped. Maybe if she sat really still, they’d ignore her.

“How are you feeling?” Jackson asked Becca as he stopped near her with a friendly smile.

Trying not to grit her teeth, she reassured Jackson that she was fine and bit into her apple, carefully wiping the juice from the corners of her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, Becca caught Aiden looking at her with his now familiar scowl.

The baby hiccuped again.

Becca stared at her plate. How dare he not remember her? How dare he not remember the way she’d taken him to the limits of his willpower and beyond. She just had to look at him and she was flooded with memories.

And an unwanted sense of longing.

She arched her back as the baby hiccuped a third time. Aiden probably dismissed her as just another old, pregnant woman, of no more interest to him than a heavily veiled nun.

Without preamble, Jackson got down to business. “Victoria, I think you might benefit from a change. I’m assigning you to Spider’s unit.”

Victoria appeared stricken. “Why?”

“Maybe he thinks I’ll whip you into shape,” Spider said, arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t smile or reassure Victoria in any way. He clearly did not want Victoria reporting to him and Becca felt sorry for her all over again.

She willed Victoria to fling a snappy retort at him, but Victoria didn’t move or speak. Without thinking, Becca stepped up for her new friend. “Maybe Jackson thinks Victoria will whip you into shape, Aiden.” Then, because she was a little surprised at herself and wanted to soften her words, Becca gave him a cordial smile.

Jackson and Aiden were momentarily speechless.

“I think the team would benefit from the change.” Jackson finally filled the awkward silence. Then he touched Victoria’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Victoria’s curt nod and downcast eyes broadcast how hurt she was by the move. Aiden had gone back to scowling.

“Get some rest. We’ll see you in the morning.” Jackson bid them good-night.

“Socrates…er, Sirus, asked me to talk to you about our experience today,” Aiden said with a stubborn set to his chin.

Becca managed to choke out, “Perhaps I can find some time for you after the briefing.” Drat. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

With a brief nod in Becca’s direction, Aiden followed Jackson up to the dinner line.

“Thanks.” Victoria groaned. “Spider hates me.”

“Don’t give him an inch. Guys like him look for weakness, especially in women out here.” Becca wasn’t going to let Aiden find her weakness, her secret. The baby shimmied around, making her dizzy for a few seconds.

“Oh, great. Just what I need to top my day.” Victoria ducked her head. “There’s that creepy old guy.”

“Who?” Becca glanced around, one hand splayed protectively across her belly.

Victoria made a face. “That guy with shaggy hair standing at the end of this row of tables.”

Becca tried to look casually in that direction. She spotted a beaten-looking firefighting veteran. He was gazing at them with a dull expression on his lined face, then he turned his attention to Jackson and Aiden.

“I’ve seen him around fire camps this year,” Victoria whispered, barely moving now, as if keeping still might make her invisible. “He seems to stare at our crew a lot. It creeps me out.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Becca saw Aiden turn and lock his gaze on her. She was suddenly able to relate to Victoria as a target of unwanted attention. She rubbed the baby in her tummy with one hand, trying to reassure herself that he didn’t recognize her, although it was disappointing that he didn’t. She’d thought they’d been spectacular together.

It was hard to believe that her impression had been wrong.

Maybe…she sucked in bed.

Becca shied away from the embarrassing notion. It didn’t matter that she was nothing to Aiden or any other man, for that matter. She’d gotten what she wanted.

Becca patted her belly again.

“I KNOW HER,” SPIDER SAID as he trudged back up the hill with Golden to the supper line. The afternoon breeze had died down and the oppressive heat was making one last run before the sun sank low on the horizon. “She knew my name.” Few people in the fire community knew his given name.

“The Fire Behavior Analyst?” Golden asked. “You might. She’s been around for years and years. I hear her brother was a Hot Shot a long time ago.”

“She’s not that old,” Spider grumbled, not knowing why he felt the need to stick up for her. “Have we been on other fires with her?”

“Probably not. She’s California Overhead.” Meaning the California division of Incident Command. “Socrates picked her up as an end-of-the season replacement. I’ve heard she’s one of the best FBANS around, though.”

Spider wasn’t impressed. He’d heard too many times before about “the best” and found them sorely lacking in the field. He looked at Becca again. Where had he seen her? And why was the memory bugging him?

“This fire’s going to be a tough one. I’ll need your help keeping the team’s spirits up, including tonight,” Golden clarified, with a glance back at the Fire Behavior Analyst. “Don’t get distracted.”

“She’s hardly my type,” Spider said too quickly, unable to resist looking back, too. Pregnant and bossy. Not his style at all.

With long fingers, Becca twisted and tucked stray golden strands of hair behind her ears, and blinked heavily at Victoria as if she were fighting off fatigue.

“Oh, man,” Spider said under his breath as the images flooded his brain. He’d met her in Vegas—a tall, blond goddess who’d seduced him while he was at a firefighting convention the day after New Year’s. He’d been nursing one in a string of too many beers, trying unsuccessfully to forget what his father had just told him—about a half brother and a half sister he hadn’t known existed, two children Randy Rodas had fathered while married to Spider’s mom.

Becca Thomas had worn this amazing, flimsy white dress that had clung to her curves and exposed most of her creamy skin and long legs. She’d walked over to him, sizing him up, taking his measure and finding him wanting…her.

Spider wasn’t normally picky about a woman’s intellect, as long as her features caught his attention. But his nameless goddess was no slouch in the brains department and had a face that was proud with high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. The sex had been great. The conversation had been great.

And come morning, she’d disappeared without so much as a “thanks, it’s been fun.” Not that he was complaining. Earth-shattering sex and no complications was primo. He just wasn’t used to being the one who woke up alone.

No wonder he hadn’t recognized Becca at first. Her body was plumped up from the pregnancy, from her ankles to her cheeks. But the hair was the same, her gestures were the same and her sharp wit was the same. Only she looked about ready to give birth, too far along to be carrying something he’d left behind. She had to have been pregnant before they’d met. An older woman like her didn’t just get pregnant unless they were married.

Spider squinted at Becca, angry now. She hadn’t mentioned she was married in Vegas. Spider didn’t screw around with married women. That was just wrong. Unlike his father, he considered marriage as something sacred, to be honored. If Spider even spotted a glimmer of a ring on a woman’s finger, it was a no-go.

Becca Thomas had used him for her own purposes, whatever those might be, and had made him into a filthy, stinkin’ cheater.

“SIRUS REVIEWED HOW THIS FIRE made a large, hot run this afternoon,” Becca spoke into the portable microphone outside the Incident Command tent as she began her part in the evening-shift briefing.

Blanketed in thick smoke, the sun was receding behind the towering Flathead mountain ridges. It would still bathe them in soft light for another hour, but already the air was cooling. Once the teams were briefed, the crews on the evening shift were heading up to the drop point. Often the winds lessened or died down at night, so some of the best suppression efforts on the ground were possible when the sun went down. Those crews on R & R tended to come over to listen to the brief, to hear the latest on the fire, which was why the group was larger than the number of men and women going out to fight the fire this evening.

Aiden stood at the back of the crowd, probably waiting to talk with her. She tried not to let his stare intimidate her. He was probably still irritated at her snappy comeback in Victoria’s defense.

Becca’s head pounded beneath her stitches. It didn’t matter that Fire Camp Aiden was cold and cocky, vastly different from the Aiden that had charmed her in Las Vegas. As long as Aiden didn’t remember her, he could glower as much as he liked.

“I’m here to tell you that we can expect to see the fire make even more runs.” Becca hated delivering bad news, especially when this fire seemed so low in priority to NIFC that the resources they needed to contain the fire weren’t readily available.

“The winds are predicted to continue to come from the north, hot and dry, which means we’ll have to be vigilant on the south slopes where the fuels are drier still. As you’ve probably heard, these winds kick up without much warning as the temperature rises in the afternoon. I know I don’t need to tell you to set a lookout, but—” she paused to pat her belly “—you’ll forgive me if I sound a little maternal toward you all. Please be careful.”

As she’d hoped, that elicited chuckles from the group.

“Now, as for the conditions you’re likely to encounter out there tonight…” Becca proceeded to go over the possible scenarios the crews were going to be working in that night, as well as trigger points—the geographical limit where a fire became unsafe for the manpower assigned and a retreat was ordered.

She could remember when she’d first started as a Fire Behavior Analyst. She’d been too earnest, all monotone urgency. The fire crews hadn’t paid much attention to her at all. It had scared her to death. If she couldn’t get through to them, their risk of injury increased. Now, after fifteen years of fire prediction, Becca knew how to keep their attention.

When the briefing ended, Becca asked Sirus to walk with her back through the sea of tents to the Fire Behavior tent, hoping to talk to him more about an idea she had to contain the fire—an idea the IC team hadn’t been receptive to—as well as a more personal issue.

Energetic crews were loading into trucks and heading up the mountain. Becca had to give it to the firefighters. They couldn’t wait to get out there and risk their lives. They thrived on the kind of danger she tried to help them avoid.

And, even though she knew so few of them personally, she knew them in spirit. Firefighters with mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, spouses and lovers at home in their air-conditioned houses, hoping for their safe return. Becca hoped she was doing her part to see they made it home unscathed.

“Have you worked a lot in Montana?” she asked Sirus.

“Some,” he admitted. “But not in the fall. NIFC usually has me shifting to special projects by then. Desk work.” This last was said with the distaste of a man who loved the outdoors. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering what you knew about the weather here this time of year. Some of the locals have been saying the wind shifts when the temperature cools off. With the steepness of these ridges, we could be putting a lot of people at risk if we aren’t careful. Perhaps we should pull back. You know, build a line in a place where we know we can stop it.” This was her first experience working for Sirus. She’d served on special committees with him in the past and had learned the value of Sirus’s opinion. He knew how to work the politics and the crews without losing the respect and liking of either side of the fire line, and he cut right to the chase—no hidden agendas.

He slanted a dark glance her way. “Do you have solid information about the weather that Carl or I don’t have?”

Ignoring the implied warning, Becca pressed on. She desperately wanted Sirus to see the logic of her thinking. “Historical weather patterns can be tremendously helpful—”

“I know you want to change tactics on this fire, Becca, but you’re one voice of several that I have to listen to as I decide what we’ll do. Don’t push me,” he snapped. After a moment, Sirus sighed and when he spoke again, his words were calmer. “Sorry. Lack of sleep tends to give me a short fuse. Look, if they send us more support for the fire, or if you can get Carl on your side, I’m more likely to reconsider that idea of yours. It’s just too soon to change tactics.”

Their current strategy was to fight the fire close to the flame. Becca believed pulling back and preparing for it was a safer strategy, and gave them a better chance to contain the fire with the resources they had to fight it.

It was going to take a good bit of convincing to get Carl to believe in her theory. Perhaps her hopes were better placed on NIFC. “Do you think NIFC will change their minds about this fire?”

“And give us more support?” Sirus shook his head. “Most additional resources are going to that huge fire in Washington. Fires are burning all across the western states, most are closer to the urban interface, threatening homes and small towns. There’s nothing here but a national forest in one of the least populous states in the union. What do you think our chances are of getting more support?”

“Pretty slim.” Becca’s belly seemed weighted down by the news. “It’s depressing. Even though it’s only been a few days, it’s at the end of the season on a tough fire. You can feel the hopelessness in everyone, from the firefighters to the support staff here in camp.”

Sirus frowned. Glancing around, Becca was relieved to find they were alone, despite the fact that crews strode with purpose past them in both directions. It was probably the best opportunity she’d get to speak to Sirus about more personal matters. He was on the hiring committee for the Boise job, which was one of the reasons she’d accepted the Flathead fire assignment.

“Speaking of chances,” Becca began, “what do you think my chances are for that Fire Behavior management position in Boise?” She barely made it out of the way of a rowdy crew carrying shovels and Pulaskis, striding toward the parking lot and their transport to the DP.

At the door to the Fire Behavior tent, Becca looked up at Sirus, who still hadn’t answered her question. His expression wasn’t encouraging. Her hopes suddenly sank to her toes.

“They’re not going to give it to me, are they?” Becca managed to say.

“I’m sorry,” Sirus said, looking steadily into her eyes. She admired his directness, even as she dreaded his take on the situation. “You have everything they’re looking for—education, experience, and years with NIFC. And you’ve earned a lot of respect for your creative, if sometimes conservative, fire strategies.”

Ignoring the label that she was too conservative—who could be too conservative when lives were at stake?— Becca waited for the but.

She glanced down at her belly. It had to be because she was pregnant. Some good old boy who had a friend on the interviewing committee and who let the simulation program do his work for him was going to get the job. It really was a man’s world.

Still, she had to ask, “Why?”

He didn’t hesitate. “It’s your management skills.”

“My…my what?” Becca couldn’t believe her ears. “How could they say that? Every one of my direct reports has gone on to do well.”

The expression on Sirus’s face was solemn. “Many of your direct reports have gone on to do well in other fields.”

Becca’s equilibrium shifted, although her instability had nothing to do with the baby. What did you say in a situation like this? Defend yourself? Or crawl in some hole and lick your wounds?

“They weren’t suited to the work.” Becca lifted her chin, hugging her clipboard so tightly that the baby tried to elbow it aside. She loosened her grip while she tried to make Sirus see things from her perspective. “Most of these people—let’s face it, they send kids out here most of the time—don’t know what they want to be when they grow up.” Julia came to mind, bright, but with a mindset closed to less high-tech methods of information gathering.

Becca glanced around, but her assistant was nowhere in sight. “Too many see it as a step up in pay grade rather than a calling. They seem surprised when they realize the day doesn’t begin at eight and end at five, or that they can’t just bring a printout to a meeting and read from it.”

Sirus regarded her silently for a moment before looking away. “You know how things are around here. We have to deal with body count and open slots. If NIFC gets someone in the position, they’d rather not have them looking to move or quit after their first season.”

“You’re saying that I scare these people out of the job?” She refused to believe that. She tried so hard to help her direct reports improve on their weaknesses, to weed out the ones she felt weren’t suited to the work, and this was the thanks she got?

He touched her shoulder ever so briefly—a condolence gesture. “What you’ve told me makes a lot of sense and gives me a new perspective, but—”

“That’s the way they see it back in Boise.” She bit her lip looking anywhere but at him. What was she going to do? “I’m pregnant,” she let slip lamely, her nose stinging with the desire to cry. That’s all she needed, a breakdown in front of her boss.

“There are other positions in Boise that need good people,” Sirus suggested gently. “I’m sure they’d love to have you somewhere.”

“Somewhere not in my field.” Someplace she wouldn’t as directly watch over the safety of firefighters.

NIFC didn’t like the way she managed. They considered that her weakness.

Because they sent her people like Julia and had never seen her manage top-notch employees.

The baby shifted and Becca took a step back to regain her balance. How was she going to support herself and the baby? And the little house on the outskirts of Boise was definitely out of reach. All of her plans…

“Have they…” She could barely bring herself to ask. “Have they made a final decision?”

“No, but when I was in Boise last week, that was where they were leaning.”

“So, there’s still a chance,” Becca whispered.

Sirus made a face. “It’s pretty slim. You’d have to prove that you can effectively manage.” He gestured to her tent, presumably where Julia was. “And that’s all you’ve got to work with.”

Sirus was right. Becca wasn’t getting that job.