Page 4 of The Smokejumper's Lady
I close my eyes. I always give myself one minute, before each job, to let the smell of smoke bring me back to the one fire I couldn’t beat. The one person I couldn’t save.
The reason I do this in the first place.
Then I let my body go still. And I let my mind lock in.
I’m ready.
We drop low over the ridge, and the smoke is already rising in thick, angry columns. Red flames snake through the tree line like they’ve got a purpose, like they’re hunting something.
“Conditions are nasty,” the pilot says over comms. “We’ve got gusting wind from the west and dry fuel all through the basin. Go in hot.”
Hot’s an understatement. This fire’s pissed off.
My chute is tight. My axe is strapped. I step up to the door and glance at the smoke curling in the sky. I brace myself, and without hesitation, I jump in.
The second I hit the ground, it’s chaos.
Wind gusts hard from the south, fanning the flames into a frenzy. The trees scream as they burn, snapping and cracking like bones under pressure. Smoke curls into the sky in thick black ribbons. I barely have time to register it before I’m running, every part of me instinctively shifting into mission mode.
It’s always like this whenever there’s a fire. The switch flips and I become muscle, grit, and instinct.
We fan out, cutting a containment line where we can, but my radio crackles with something that makes my blood run cold.
“Command reports civilian presence near the north creek. Four total. Repeat—four civilians unaccounted for. Possible entrapment. Nearest team reroute immediately.”
My pulse surges. I grab the mic. “Copy that. On it.”
Matt throws me a knowing look. “You going solo, daredevil?”
“Have to,” I say, already moving.
“No unnecessary risks!” he calls after me. “I want you back alive!”
I flip him off as I run toward danger. Truth is, I don’t hesitate when civilians are involved. Never have. And Matt knows this.
That’s what brought me here in the first place.
I was eighteen when my childhood home caught fire, an old two-story near Flathead. A grass fire turned wildfire in minutes. My mom screamed until her voice cracked. My little brother never made it out. The firefighters arrived too late. Too damn late.
I remember standing barefoot in the gravel, shirtless and blackened, watching it burn while they hosed down the ruins. One of them put a hand on my shoulder, but it was too late for comfort.
I joined the local department that fall. Been chasing fires ever since. Not because I’m brave—hell, I’m not sure I believe in bravery anymore. I do this because I can’t let anyone else burn.
I was supposed to protect him, but I missed that chance. So now I have to save as many lives as I can. It’s my atonement. Every life I save, I hope the burden of my guilt will be a little lighter. But the truth is, it’s just as heavy as it was ten years ago.
I crest the ridge, lungs tight from smoke, and spot the cave tucked just behind the creek. It’s barely visible through the haze, but there’s movement. I can see shadows.
I charge toward it, ducking low. “Park service!” I shout. “Anyone in there?”
I’m greeted by silence. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. Could they be hurt? Is there—
“Here! We’re here!”
I close my eyes in relief, muttering a soft curse under my breath. Then I step inside. She’s the first person I see, and for a second the world tilts.
The guide…
She’s crouched down, shielding a little girl with her body. Two other adults huddle just behind her. But she’s all I can see.
