Page 224 of Her Reluctant Hero
His jaw tightened. “You know Jen Sheridan, Incident Commander. She gave you to me.”
“You’ve worked with her before?” Something in the narrowing of his eyes made her pretty sure the bad feelings went deeper than he let on, so she eased into her real questions. He had a way of sliding right past direct inquiry.
He cast her a glance. “You could say that.”
“I guess that happens a lot, you end up working with the same people again and again.”
“Yep.”
“So does it happen often that a woman is the incident commander?”
“Nope.”
Hm. Back to single syllables. She must have hit a nerve. She didn’t want to irritate him, much, but did wonder why this was a sensitive subject.
“I guess some people would have trouble taking orders from a woman.”
“Some do.”
A smile quirked her lips. He was so careful about what information he let out. “What about women on the crews? Do a lot of guys have trouble with that? Are there women crew chiefs?”
“Why? Looking to move up after your first week?”
She smiled. “Maybe, if you think I’m good enough. Are there a lot of romances on the fire lines?” Crap. Why ask that? Would he think—she didn’t want him to think she was interested. She didn’t want herself to think she was interested. In any case, she wasn’t doing anything about it.
He didn’t latch on to any hidden meaning. “There’s not a lot of privacy.”
“Still, life-and-death situations, close proximity...” Like last night in the tent. The warmth she felt now had nothing to do with hiking a mountain in July.
“People find ways, I guess, if they really want to.”
He was so oblique about it, she couldn’t tell if he’d had any personal experience. Her curiosity was purely objective, of course. “Have you? Wanted to?”
He stopped and turned to face her and she skidded to a halt at the dangerous tilt of his eyebrows. His impatience was palpable in the line of his body. “What do you want to know? Quit beating around the bush and just ask.”
She took a deep breath, but couldn’t quite meet his eyes, unable to convince herself about the real reason for her need to know. She focused on a rivulet of sweat washing a path through the grime at his temple. “How close are you and Jen?”
“She’s my ex.”
Whoa. Stunned, she set her feet apart to keep her balance, and used the rest of her energy to snap her jaw shut. “Ex as in married?”
“Ex as in divorced.” He started down again.
“Wow.” The word jolted her heart into beating again. She’d expected a connection, but a marriage? Gabe married, domesticated? Apparently it hadn’t taken. “Is this the first time you’ve worked with her since the divorce?”
“It’s the first time I’ve seen her since the divorce.”
“Wow,” she said again, truly at a loss for words. Almost. “That’s gotta be tough. What happened? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
He snorted his opinion. “None of your business.”
Like he would be forthcoming on a personal item when he wouldn’t tell her if he worked for the Forest Service. As usual, he didn’t notice or care, instructing her to be quiet so he could listen for the fire.
They trudged in silence for what seemed like hours, the roar of the fire rising and fading, raising fear and then hope. Finally Peyton could be silent no more.
“I have to stop.”
He paused, glancing at her, his brows lowered in concern. “Are you thirsty? Feeling sick?”
