Page 40 of Falling for the Firefighter
"Three," I correct automatically, then bite my lip at his knowing look. "Just being thorough."
His eyes soften a fraction. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do." I adjust my pack straps, avoiding his gaze. "Just don't expect me to be happy about it."
"Noted." A hint of amusement colors his voice. "For what it's worth, they're impressed. Not everyone can silence a hotshot crew with mountain trivia."
"It's not trivia when it might save their lives." The words come out sharper than intended.
His expression shifts, something unreadable flickering across his features. "No. It isn't."
Before I can decipher his reaction, Parker approaches with a radio check request, and the moment passes.
We lead the first team—Martinez and Williams—up the eastern slope toward Thunder Ridge. The trail starts easily enough, following an old logging road before branching onto a game path I've mapped but rarely traveled. Martinez moves with surprising grace for his size, while Williams maintains a running commentary on the flora we pass.
"These are different from the ones in California," she says, pausing to examine a cluster of blue columbines. "Our wildflowers don't handle altitude well."
"State flower," I tell her. "They only bloom above 7,000 feet."
"Beautiful," she murmurs, then jogs to catch up.
Mac takes point, setting a steady pace that respects the terrain without wasting time. I bring up the rear, eyes constantly scanning for signs of danger—loose rocks, unstable ground, wildlife movement. Every snapped twig makes me flinch. Every rustle in the underbrush spikes my pulse.
Scout ranges ahead of me, staying within sight but using her superior senses to scout the trail. Her ears swivel constantly, cataloging sounds beyond human perception.
When she pauses and looks back at me with a soft whine, I know she's picked up something—a scent or sound that doesn't belong. I signal Mac, who holds up a hand to halt the team while Scout investigates a cluster of boulders off the main trail.
She returns with nothing more threatening than the lingering scent of elk, but her diligence reminds me why I trust her instincts more than my paranoia.
"Relax, Mackenzie." Mac drops back to walk beside me while his team navigates a narrow stretch ahead. "You're hypervigilant."
Out here, he calls meMackenzie. Everyone in his crew uses each other’s last names when on the job. In person, when it’s just us, he switches toJosephine, the only person who calls me that. Makes it all the more special.
"That's my job." I step carefully around a jutting rock. "Someone has to be."
"Not to this degree." His voice drops lower. "You're going to burn out before we reach the first position."
"I'm fine."
"You've checked every foothold Martinez and Williams have used. Tested branches they've already tested. Recalculated distances I've already confirmed." His observation is too accurate for comfort. "Trust the process, Josephine."
"I trust facts, not processes." I scan the ridge line above us. "Processes fail. People make mistakes."
"Some mistakes can't be anticipated."
I glance at him sharply, but his expression reveals nothing beyond professional concern.
"All mistakes can be prevented with proper preparation." The words come out like a mantra, one I've repeated to myself a thousand times since Sarah's fall.
Mac studies me for a long moment, then simply says, "No. They can't."
Before I can argue, he moves ahead to rejoin his team, leaving me with an unsettled feeling that has nothing to do with the treacherous terrain.
The first observation post sits on a natural plateau halfway up Thunder Ridge. The position offers clear sightlines to two of the fire sites while remaining sheltered by a granite outcropping. A perfect vantage point—invisible from below but commanding views of the valley.
"This is ideal," Martinez says, already unpacking surveillance equipment. "We can monitor both the north and west approaches from here."
"There's a small spring fifty yards south," I tell them, marking it on their field map. "The ridge above is unstable after last winter's freeze-thaw cycle. Don't climb higher without radio confirmation first."
