Page 200 of Her Reluctant Hero
She ran up and grabbed his arm. If he’d been in a better humor he might have taken solace that she appeared more exhausted than he felt.
“Hey,” she said, looking up at him, worry darkening the eyes he’d once known so well. “I have some Girl Scouts trapped about five miles up the main road. Sheriff Bosquez tried to raise them and can’t get through, and the fire’s blocked our way in.”
“Maybe they got out.”
“Maybe,” she conceded with a nod. “But they’re unaccounted for at any of the evacuation sites. It’s some kind of scout camp. You know, with kids. You’d think if they got out they’d notify the parents. You have to go in and make sure they’re out.”
Adrenaline chased fatigue from his body as the surprise of the request wore off. His feet itched to move out. He couldn’t let her see it, though. He couldn’t let her know he still felt the thrill.
She’d never seen it when they were married, always pushing him toward a supervisory position, but he’d wanted to stay in the field. Year after year his friends left for full-time office jobs and grew sticks up their asses, but he couldn’t do it, couldn’t confine himself inside four walls.
Jen hadn’t understood his lack of ambition. His satisfaction with his life looked like complacence in her eyes. She’d wanted her husband to be more than a mere ground pounder, even if he was one of the best. The harder she’d pushed the more he’d resisted and the more they fought.
“Fine, all right.” He braced his feet apart. “Give me what you’ve got.”
She spun on her heel and he followed her into the strategy tent, pulling his map from his back pocket.
“We’ve got fifteen girls and three counselors trapped at McIntosh Ridge.” Jen walked around the table and gestured to the map pinned to the bulletin board. “Trees surrounding it, dirt road going in. The road is useless, though. The fire’s hooked below.”
“Got it.” He scanned the map once again and compared it to his.
“Did you hear me, Gabe?” She put her hand over the map, trying to force his gaze to hers. “The fire’s hooked below.”
“I heard you.” She was emphasizing the danger so he had the whole story, but the truth was, he didn’t have a choice. He had to go in. “If they’re still up there, we’ll get them out.”
He pushed out of the tent and collided with the soft body of Peyton Michaels. She must have found the showers, because her hair was no longer black with soot, and some fruity scent floated up from her, but he couldn’t stand around smelling her, thinking of her as a woman, as anything other than a reporter. His mind already moved ahead to the mountain. He acknowledged her with a nod and set her aside.
She hurried after him and touched his arm. He stopped, glanced from her hand to her bold brown eyes. “Can I help you?”
She didn’t drop her hand away despite his pointed look. “I want to go with you.”
“Go where?” As if he didn’t know. Just like a reporter. This was not something he wanted to deal with now, on the heels of dealing with Jen. His shields weren’t all the way back up.
“To the camp.”
He glanced back at the tent. Of all the people to overhear, it had to be her. “Eavesdropping?” She merely lifted her brows. Always challenging him. “I have ears.”
“We had a deal. One shift.” He sliced his hand through the air in a gesture of finality, not wanting the responsibility for her a minute longer. “Your shift is up.”
“But this—rescuing trapped children!” Her voice shook with excitement as she trotted after him. “This is exactly what I’m writing about.”
He scowled. “I’m not doing this for your amusement, Michaels.”
She looked stricken he would think so, and he felt an uncharacteristic stab of regret. Hell, what did she think, making statements like that? That she was going to improve his opinion of reporters?
“No, of course not. But you have to see how important this would be to me.”
All the wrong reasons to go up on the mountain. He shook his head. “And just what makes you think that matters to me?”
Her temper brightened her eyes. “Is it just me, or all reporters?”
He didn’t hesitate. “All reporters.”
She huffed out a breath. “Here I was all a-tingle, thinking I was special.”
Here he thought he was starting to like her wise mouth. He didn’t dignify her remark with an answer.
“What happened?” she pressed, hovering at his elbow. “Someone get on your bad side?”
