Page 23 of The Smokejumper's Lady
My parents.
“Clea Rose McMahon!”
The full name. That’s never good.
I barely step outside before my mother has her arms around me, smoothing my hair and clutching me like I’ve been lost at sea for years.
“We were worried sick about you. We couldn’t reach you. No updates, no contact! Do you have any idea the kind of hell we went through?”
“I—Mom, I’m fine. I was never in danger. Not really.”
“You were in the middle of a wildfire, Clea!” my father snaps, striding up behind her. His eyes rake over me, and then past me. To Ryan. “Who the hell is this?”
Ryan steps forward, calm but firm. “Ryan Lewis. Smoke jumper. I helped with her evacuation yesterday.”
My dad’s eyes narrow like he’s sizing Ryan up for a duel. “You’re telling me our daughter was left alone with a firefighter in the woods overnight?”
Ryan’s jaw flexes, but he holds his ground. “We weren’t alone. There were other evacuees nearby, and she was put in the safest structure close to base. I stayed because it was the protocol.”
“Oh, protocol,” my mother parrots, lips curled in disapproval. “How convenient.”
“Enough,” I say, but it comes out too soft. Too tangled in emotion.
Dad turns to me. “You’re never going back there, Clea. Never again. That’s final. You’ll leave this wilderness nonsense behind and come home.”
My heart drops.
“It’s not nonsense,” I manage. “I love this work. I’m good at it.”
“You could’ve died!” Mom’s voice cracks. “This is exactly why we didn’t want you doing this. You’re meant to be running the firm, Clea. Not dragging tourists through national parks and getting trapped in fires!”
“I’m not going back to the firm,” I say, quieter this time.
Ryan steps up beside me. “She saved lives out there. She kept calm under pressure and handled it like a pro. What happened was a freak accident.”
Dad rounds on him. “With all due respect, this is our daughter. We didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“Then maybe you should listen to hers,” Ryan says, his voice dangerously low.
I put a hand on Ryan’s arm. He’s tense. Ready to blow.
So am I.
But I can’t do this here. Not now. My heart is still tangled up in too many things.
“Clea,” my mom says, her voice softer. “Let’s just get you out of here.”
I look back at Ryan. He’s watching me like he wants to reach out and drag me into the cabin for another round. Like he’s holding himself back. His eyes flicker down to my hand. Then my mouth. Then back to my eyes.
Say something!I scream desperately in my head.
But just then, a man in a fire captain’s uniform calls out, “Lewis, time to go! Wind’s picked up on the southeast side of the fire—it’s approaching a residential area.”
Ryan looks like he might explode. His jaw clenches. His hands fist at his sides. But he doesn’t speak.
I know he needs to go save people, but I would have thought he’d say something to me at least. He just watches. Even as a medic rushes over to tell us they’re evacuating civilians from this area so we need to leave. Even as I allow my parents to pull me toward their car. Even as I turn around and walk away.
Every step toward my parents’ SUV feels like I’m peeling skin off my bones. Like I’m leaving a piece of myself in the gravel. I close the car door behind me, then look through the window.
