Page 223 of Her Reluctant Hero
She tossed her hair back. “Some of my stuff got noticed early in my career. I was lucky.”
No such thing as luck. You were good, or you weren’t. Still. “Maybe if you had to work harder to get where you were, you’d appreciate it more.”
She stared, wide eyed, open mouthed. Not the argumentative Peyton he expected. She was speechless. Well, look at that. Never thought he’d see the day.
Then he heard it. He stopped and threw up a hand. She nearly collided with him, caught his shoulders to balance herself.
“What? What is it?”
“Shut up!” he growled.
Peyton snapped her head up at his sharp words, dragging her mind back from the path he’d set her on, the revelation that success took commitment—no, she understood that. It was the other thing, the other way around that surprised her. Commitment creates success.
She heard it then, a sound like the rumble of far-off planes. “What is it?”
“Fire.”
A thrill of fear raced through her at the single word and she released his shirt to come even with him. She’d nearly forgotten the reason they were on the run, had let thoughts of the fire slip from her mind. Big mistake. Gabe wisely hadn’t made the same one.
“Maybe it’s west of us,” she said hopefully.
He shook his head. “No, it’s in front of us.” He gestured to the thickening trees ahead of them and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Put your fire shirt back on.”
She untied it from around her waist, shrugged her pack to the ground to do as he instructed. She resented the warmth of the garment but couldn’t risk going without. “Can we go around?”
“I hope so, but it’s impossible to tell from where we are,” he said grimly, his eyes not leaving their path, as if concentrating hard enough would reveal the fire’s location. “I don’t know how the fire has changed in our absence.”
“What about the cell phone?” She picked up her pack again, fastened it over her breasts. They didn’t have to depend on instincts, not when they had modern conveniences, right? “Can you call the base camp and get the latest?”
He gave her a look of grudging admiration and fished the phone out of his breast pocket. He dialed for information to patch him through and started shouting in the device, pressing his hand to his other ear, walking away from Peyton as if trying to find a stronger signal.
He was able to give their location—how he knew, Peyton had no clue—and ask about the fire before yanking the phone from his ear and glaring at it. She thought he’d throw the offending piece of technology into the forest.
“It cut out.” He shoved the cell at her. “Damn it.”
She slipped it in her own front pocket for safe-keeping. “Were they able to tell you anything about where the fire is?”
“Not exactly, because Jen was too damn busy yelling at me about not coming back with the campers. But yeah, there’s been another flare-up between us and the camp.”
Jen. There was a woman who found success through commitment. “Call her back.” She reached into her pocket.
He shook his head. “Too much interference to do us any good.”
“Maybe if we go back up the mountain we can get a clearer signal.”
He shook his head more vehemently. “Why backtrack and give the fire a chance to gain on us? We’ll keep going. Stay close.” He started down at a faster pace.
Like she’d go off on her own. Her heart thudded in her throat. “How far do you think it is?”
“Hard to tell.”
“And camp?” She was already breathless as her adrenal gland went into workout mode again.
“On the other side of the fire. Once we get around it, we’ll probably run into some crews.”
He didn’t sound terribly concerned. That was good, right? “I’m surprised we don’t hear any planes.”
“Maybe the smoke is too bad. So who’s Jen?” she asked, though she knew.
