Page 1 of The Smokejumper's Lady
Chapter One
Clea
“These peaks used to have over a hundred glaciers.” I point past the line of trees toward the mountains. “Now? We’re down to maybe twenty-five. Give or take.”
Mr. Reynolds lets out a low whistle. “That’s just…damn.”
“Heartbreaking,” I agree, but I smile. “Still the most beautiful place on earth. And totally worth sweating through this hike for.”
Little Maddie Reynolds looks up at me, her cheeks pink from the climb. She’s clutching a sparkly water bottle like it’s the last cold drink in Montana. “Are there bears here?”
“Oh, for sure,” I say, leaning down to her level with a wink. “But don’t worry. Bears don’t like big groups, and you guys have been awesome hikers. Any bear with sense is already running the other way.”
Mrs. Reynolds gives a little theatrical gasp and pulls Maddie closer. She’s joking, but I can tell she’ll be keeping her eyes wide open from now on.
Smart woman.The woods really are no joke.
We keep moving, the trail bending to give us a panoramic view of the valley. I stop for a second and let them take it in. Pines as far as the eye can see, the glint of a distant stream, the blue sky stretching so wide it makes me feel small in the best way.
I never get tired of this.
No matter how many tours I lead, no matter how many times I rattle off the same facts about alpine ecosystems and glacier melt. This place still takes my breath away. It makes everything else feel…lighter.
Even the stuff I try not to think about.
Like how my mom thinks I’d be safer behind a desk wearing heels and a blazer, instead of hiking trails in trail runners and cargo shorts. Or how my dad thinks that my dream—owning my own adventure tour company—is just a silly phase.
Or how in my darkest moments, I think they both might be right.
A sharp crackle from my walkie startles me. I grab it off my hip and press the button. “Tour guide ten, go ahead.”
Tom’s voice buzzes through, scratchy but clear. “Clea, hey…it’s Tom. Got an alert from the ranger station. Dry lightning’s moving in from the west. Time to head back.”
My stomach dips. I glance up at the sky. Still clear. Still perfectly blue. But out here, that can change in minutes.
“Copy that.” I clip the walkie back to my belt. Then I turn to the Reynolds family. “Change of plans, folks. We’ve got a weather warning—there’s a possibility of dry lightning. It’s a long shot, but we don’t take chances in this park. We’re heading back. Now.”
I keep my tone calm, steady, even as my pulse starts to pick up. They nod and fall in line, Maddie sticking close to her mom.
Good girl.
The trail feels hotter now. The wind’s gone still. My stomach tightens with a familiar feeling of unease—the kind that only comes when nature decides she’s about to show her teeth.
The wind shifts. No warning, no whisper, no breeze to ease it in. One second the air is still, the next it’s humming, electric, wild. The kind of change you feel more than see, crawling up the back of your neck.
Then comes the thunder, deep and distant, like something ancient waking up. I whip around just as the clouds roll in fast over the ridge, dark and cracked with streaks of silver. Mountain storms are fast. I know this. I’ve said it a hundred times to wide-eyed tourists. But this is faster than anything I’ve ever seen. Too fast.
Crack!
The sky splits open with a bolt of lightning, so close I can feel the vibration in my teeth. The smell hits next, sharp and acrid.
Fire!
“Oh my God,” Mrs. Reynolds whispers, her pretty brown eyes growing wide with a mixture of fear and shock.
“Stay calm!” I shout, already grabbing for my walkie. “Everybody stay close. Keep moving!”
The walkie crackles as I press the call button. “Ranger station, this is tour guide ten. We have an active fire—repeat, dry lightning has ignited the forest just east of the ridge. I have civilians with me, requesting immediate assistance!”
