Page 262 of Her Reluctant Hero
“We have some questions about Doug Sheridan.”
“Ah.” Gordon eased back and assessed Gabe. “Now I understand why you’re here. He’s married to the honey who left you. I remember how tight the two of you were. Looking for some dirt on him, are you?”
“Actually, just some background kind of information, how he does his job, how he gets along with other smokejumpers, what he does in his spare time,” Peyton replied, taking out the spiral she’d refused to use with Gabe. Like she needed a barrier now and hadn’t wanted one then.
“Happy to. Want to get some coffee?”
“Sounds good.” Peyton sent Gabe a glance. Okay, change in plans. She would keep Gordon busy and he would snoop around. He hated leaving her in Gordon’s company, but she could handle herself. Hell, she’d charmed her way into his life, hadn’t she? And he was almost as big of an asshole as Gordon.
So he wandered. The camp was dead, most of the jumpers out on the fire, and he itched to be fighting it, too. Guilt that he wasn’t ate at him. Just a matter of hours and he’d be back.
Bringing his friends down the mountain for the last time.
He had to find out who set this fire, who killed those people.
He moved from the common room, through the room where unpacked parachutes hung from the rafters, into the area where a red-haired smokejumper sat at an industrial sewing machine, repairing a chute. Gabe relaxed marginally and smiled at Kim’s brother, Kevin.
“Hey, O’Doul.”
The young man glanced up, brows drawn together in suspicion, but smiled when he recognized Gabe.
“Hey, Cooper.”
He shut off the machine and stood, reached across to shake Gabe’s hand. He wasn’t much bigger than Kim, but like her, pure muscle.
“What are you doing here all by your lonesome? Everyone else out on a fire?”
A grimace twisted the boy’s face, and he reached down to tug up a pants leg, showing a nasty third-degree burn. Gabe sucked his breath in through his teeth in sympathy.
“I’m on medical leave for another week, then I can get out there and fight this monster.” “Where’d it happen?”
“Out in California two weeks ago. Branch fell right where I was punching line. Didn’t even hear it.”
Gabe hitched a hip on the edge of the table. “Kim didn’t say anything about it.” Of course, he hadn’t exactly been listening to her these days.
The boy looked down. “No, I didn’t tell her, didn’t want her to worry. Don’t tell her, all right?”
Gabe considered a moment, then nodded. Weird. Kim had a burn on her palm about the same age, not severe enough to bench her, but bad enough to blister. Burns were common enough in this line of work, even with their protective gear. Odd thing was, the Bear Claws hadn’t been on a fire at the time. She’d said it was a baking accident at her mom’s, the hot oven door or something. She’d laughed that she emerged most summers unscathed, but couldn’t survive an hour in the kitchen.
“I’m not exactly one of her favorite people right now.”
Kevin grunted in agreement, as if he’d heard it from the source. “She said something about some reporter horning in on your crew and y’all being sidelined. Although I got the feeling she was more pissed about the reporter than the time off.”
“You know Kim, always standing up for me.”
“You could do worse.”
Gabe didn’t know how well he hid his surprise at Kevin’s suggestion. “Christ, she’s young enough to be my daughter.” If he’d started very young, but still.
Kevin leaned back, lifting a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. You both love fighting the dragon, you work well together. She’d do anything for you.”
Okay, that was alarming. “That may sound good to young guys, but believe me. The last thing a man needs is a woman who does whatever he wants. He wants a woman who can challenge him.” His gaze drifted toward Peyton in the next room. He hadn’t realized quite how true it was.
“Kim can be quite the challenge, believe me.” Kevin laughed.
Gabe took advantage of the humor to laugh along, then change the subject. “We came”—he turned to indicate Peyton, still visible through the doorway to the common room—“to see what we could find out about Doug.”
O’Doul’s face twisted in distaste. “The asshole.”
