To my mother for all those trips to the library, where I
discovered the magical world of books, and to my dad
for attending everything, even the bagpipe competitions.
Your support matters more than you know.
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Special thanks again to Forest Service spokesman
Tim Eldridge for answering my endless questions,
and to smoke jumpers everywhere for everything
you do. You are amazing!
Jordan Wells lifted the old metal bucket out of the icy stream and set it beside her on the bank. Shivering, she rubbed her wet, chilled hands on her jeans to warm them. She’d forgotten how cold these Montana streams were. They were little more than glacial melt rushing down the mountains.
But the place was beautiful, she had to admit. Smiling, she glanced around the tiny clearing. Early-afternoon sunlight sifted through the Douglas fir trees, making the water sparkle. The clear stream raced over rocks and overturned pebbles while the pine boughs moaned above.
She inhaled the deep-forest air, that complex mix of ancient pines and earth, so unlike the cornfields and woods of Virginia. She’d loved this place once. Being here had filled her with peace, serenity. She’d felt protected from the world, sheltered in the tiny cabin with Cade.
She closed her eyes and, just for a moment, let the images swamp her. Cade’s hard face. His low, rough voice. That devastating grin.
The shocking thrills, the wild excitement she’d felt in his strong arms.
But that was before the fire season had started and the loneliness set in. The weeks apart. The endless waiting. Never knowing when he’d come back or how long he would stay.
Then the pleading. The desperation. That stark white hospital bed.
The shattering realization that he loved leaping out of airplanes more than he loved her. And always would.
She opened her eyes with a sigh. But that had happened years ago. That life was gone forever, like the innocent, trusting girl she’d once been.
And that was exactly why she’d come back here. To put that painful past to rest forever and prove she was over Cade. To sell the cabin she’d ignored for years and finally move on with her life. To marry Phil, a stable, steady man with a normal job who’d never rush off on wild adventures and leave her to suffer alone. Who’d waited far too patiently for too many months for her to accept his proposal.
And she would finally say yes to him. She’d be crazy not to. That man was everything she wanted.
She’d accept, all right. As soon as she cleaned out the cabin, she’d stop at the real estate agency in Missoula, sign the contract to sell this place and catch the next flight back East.
She rose and lifted the dented bucket. The thick bed of pine needles muffled her footsteps as she trudged up the narrow trail toward the house.
The wind gusted in the pine trees again and they creaked and wailed overhead. The tinge of wood smoke wafted past and Jordan paused. Had someone built a cabin nearby? She hadn’t noticed any new side roads or even tire tracks on the long drive in. Maybe a passing hiker had started a campfire despite the burning ban.
Then she caught the distant buzz of an airplane and her breath stalled. A DC3 jump ship. She’d recognize that sound anywhere. She’d heard that sad, wrenching drone every time Cade flew away.
Her heart pumping hard against her ribs, she set the bucket on the ground and looked up. A patch of blazing blue sky peeked through the thrashing pines.
Could there be a fire nearby? Fear crawled down her spine. How would she know? Her cell phone didn’t work out here so she couldn’t call to find out, and no one knew where she was. She listened intently, but the lonely sound drifted away.
She inhaled deeply, but only smelled fresh air and pine. She eased her breath back out. It was just her imagination. Old ghosts. The very memories she’d come here to banish.
She picked up the bucket and carted it into the cabin. Old ghosts or not, she’d better finish quickly and leave.
Cade McKenzie stood in the open doorway of the DC3 and sucked in the smell of burning pine. Below him, black, roiling smoke pierced by huge orange flames rose from the Montana forest and covered the earth with a threatening shadow.
Undaunted, he snapped down his face guard and narrowed his eyes. No matter how formidable the fire, he’d stop it. The steep hills and volatile winds only challenged him more. And he knew the eleven smokejumpers poised behind him felt the same.
The spotter, hanging partway out the door beside him, pulled in his head from the slipstream. “Hold into the wind,” he shouted over the roar of the rushing air. “And stay wide of the fire. It’s gusting bad down low.”
Cade nodded and returned his attention to the fire. They would jump near the heel and contain it first, then split up and secure the flanks. Despite the dry conditions, they could pinch off the head by late tomorrow—unless the wind changed direction and whipped the flames toward Granite Canyon.
His gaze shifted west toward the canyon bordered by a silver ridge. From the air, the dense pines hid the log cabin he knew was nestled beside the boulders. His old cabin, where he’d spent the most intoxicating months of his life—until Jordan decided she couldn’t handle living with a smokejumper and cleared out. A sharp stab of bitterness tightened his gut. Hell of a time to think of his ex-wife.
He forced the old anger aside. She’d raked him over good, all right, but he’d never see her again. She wouldn’t have kept the cabin after all these years. Still, he needed to make sure no one was in there in case the wind switched and the fire jumped the only road out.
“We’re on final.” The spotter scooted back and struck the side of the open door. His adrenaline rising, Cade moved forward into jump position. His jump partner, a rookie from a booster crew out of Boise, pressed in close behind him.
His muscles bunched, his gaze focused on the horizon, he waited for the spotter’s signal. An intense calm settled over him and his mind stilled.
And in that moment, he felt perfectly right. He was doing what he was born for, what he loved.
The spotter slapped his calf hard. His pulse jerked. He thrust himself out of the plane and into the roaring slipstream. And hurtled ninety miles an hour toward the fiery earth.
The wind rose again, swirling the orange flames high and pushing sparks and smoke over the line. Cade cut off his chain saw and lifted his arm to wipe the sweat dripping down his cheeks beneath his hard hat.
Something wasn’t right; he could feel it. But what? They’d secured the heel without problems and begun scratching a line up both flanks. But instead of feeling confident they would slay this dragon, unease slid through his gut. And he’d fought fires for too many years to ignore his instincts.
Unsettled, he strode to the pile of equipment and set down his saw, then pulled his canteen from his personal-gear bag. He drank deeply, letting the warm water soothe his parched throat.
“Hey, Cade.”
His smokejumping bro, Trey Campbell, strolled over. They’d rookied the same year out of Missoula and jumped together ever since. And after Jordan had deserted him, they’d spent more nights than he could remember frequenting Montana’s bars.
Trey rummaged in his own bag and pulled out his water. “Any word on this wind?” he asked.
“No, but it feels like it’s picking up.” He frowned back at the fire. Heavy brush and snags littered the forest floor, fueling the surging flames. The erratic wind kicked up sparks and slopped spot fires over the line.
He recapped his canteen, pulled out his radio and keyed the mike. “Dispatch, this is McKenzie.”
His radio crackled. “Go ahead, McKenzie.”
“Any idea what’s going on with this wind? It’s blowing the hell out of our line.”
Voices murmured in the background. “We’ll call the district for an update,” the dispatcher said. “We’ll get right back to you on that.”
“Thanks.” He stuffed the radio in the side pocket of his bag. “Do you mind taking over for awhile?” he asked Trey. “There’s a cabin by the rim of the canyon I need to check out, make sure there aren’t any people hanging around.” Like his ex-wife? His stomach tightened but he quickly discounted that thought. “They’re going to need a head start getting out of here if that wind shifts.”
“That your old cabin by any chance?”
“Yeah.” Which he’d surrendered to Jordan, along with any illusions he’d ever had about marriage. “After I swing by the cabin, I’ll recon the head again, too. When dispatch gets back with that wind report, we can decide where to build line tonight.”
“Got it.” Trey’s teeth flashed white in his soot-streaked face. He shoved his canteen into his personal-gear bag, picked up his chain saw, and loped back toward the line.
Cade took a final swallow of water, then stuffed his canteen in his own personal-gear bag. He moved a small notebook and compass to the side pocket with the radio, and secured the flap.
A sudden blur in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he glanced up. A blazing snag pitched silently forward, and his heart stopped.
A widow maker. A dead, burning tree that fell without warning, killing anyone in its path. And it was heading straight for their line.
“Watch out,” he shouted. “A snag!”
The men immediately scattered—except for one. His jump partner, the rookie. The kid looked up, then froze.
Oh, hell. Cade lunged to his feet and sprinted forward. The tree toppled closer and his adrenaline surged. With a final burst of speed, he barreled into the rookie and knocked him out of the way.
And was instantly slammed to the ground.
His breath fled as a massive weight crushed his back. He struggled to lift his face from the dirt, but branches covered his head.
He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. Where was the rookie? He tried to shout, but couldn’t move his mouth.
He shoved against the ground but the branches trapped him. Heat blazed up his back and his adrenaline rose. He pushed again, his efforts futile against the punishing weight.
“Cade! Are you okay? Oh, God. Get him out!”
“We need saws in here,” someone else yelled over the roar. “Hurry up!”
Cade’s eyes burned. He choked down hot smoke and coughed. Heat crawled up his neck and he gasped for breath.
Chain saws wailed and men shouted. The weight shifted slightly and the branches thrashed above him. Then suddenly, they were gone.
He lifted his head and sucked in air. Work boots stood inches from his face, along with green Nomex pants.
“Oh, man,” the rookie said, his voice trembling. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t touch him.” Trey crouched beside him. “Speak to me, buddy.”
“I’m fine,” Cade managed.
“Are you sure?” the rookie asked. “Man, that was close.”
“Damn close,” Trey said. “He’s lucky the trunk missed him. If he’d been one second slower…”
But he’d escaped, and so had the rookie. “Thanks, guys.” He struggled to push himself upright. Pain knifed his shoulder and he hitched in a ragged breath.
“Hold on. We’ll help you up,” Trey said.
“I can do it.” He wasn’t injured, for God’s sake. He just needed to catch his breath. “Just get a line around that snag before it spreads the fire.”
He forced himself to his knees. Nausea roiled through his belly, but he ignored it and stood.
He waited until the ground steadied and the chain saws started up again. Then, his head down, his right shoulder throbbing, he staggered off the line. His pulse lurched. His skull hammered. Sweat and ash stung his eyes.
The rookie stayed with him. “I still can’t believe how fast that fell. I didn’t even hear it coming.”
Cade stopped near the pile of equipment. He inhaled, and pain seared straight to his ribs.
“Man, do I owe you,” the rookie continued. “I can’t believe I froze like that.”
“Forget it.”
“No, really. If you hadn’t pushed me out of the way—”
“We’d be peeling your skin off that stob,” Trey said from behind them. “Look, we’ll do the play-by-play later. Grab a Pulaski and help get that damned thing inside the line.”
“Sure.” The rookie grabbed the ax-like Pulaski. “Thanks again, man. I owe you.” He turned and trotted off.
Cade tipped back his head. Even that small movement made him grimace.
“We’d better look at that shoulder,” Trey said.
“I’m fine. I just need to catch my breath.” He bent to grab his canteen, then froze as his back and ribs pulsed.
Angry now, he straightened. A wave of dizziness blurred his eyes.
“Come on, Cade. You know the rules.”
He knew the drill, all right. Safety first. Get an injured man off the mountain. Anyone who couldn’t outrun a fire endangered himself and the other jumpers.
And he was far too professional to compromise his men.
But he wasn’t seriously injured. His shoulder was probably just wrenched. And smokejumpers worked hurt all the time. Bad knees, sprained ankles…Chronic pain came with the job.
Besides, he couldn’t leave the fire—his fire. Not until they had it under control.
And those damn doctors. What if they took him off the jump list? Hell! He couldn’t stop jumping now, not with fires raging all over the west.
Not ever. Dread rolled through his gut. “Just give me a minute,” he said. “I’ll shake it off.” He reached up to remove his hard hat. Pain flamed through his shoulder and he dropped his hand. He glanced at Trey and saw the doubt in his eyes.
“We can’t wait,” Trey said. “If this wind picks up, they’ll ground the choppers. We need to call it in now.”
“A few more minutes won’t matter. Look, I’ll go check out that cabin and make sure no one’s hanging around. If my shoulder isn’t better by then, I’ll call it in myself.”
“Cade—”
“For God’s sake. Nothing’s broken.” With supreme effort, he picked up his PG bag and swung it over his left shoulder. Sweat popped out on his forehead and he struggled to breathe.
Trey shook his head. “All right, but I’m going with you, and we’ll scout a landing spot on the way.”
“Fine.” He hated pulling a man off the line, but didn’t bother to argue. He knew he’d need every bit of breath he had for the steep trek to the cabin.
By the time they reached Granite Canyon, Cade could hardly stay upright. His head reeled, hot pain ripped through his shoulder, and his ribs burned whenever he breathed.
He stopped at the black Jeep Liberty parked under the trees and propped himself against it to catch his breath.
“You okay?” Trey asked.
“A little winded.” He blinked to clear his blurred vision.
“McKenzie?” a voice on his radio called.
“I’ll see who’s in the cabin,” Trey said.
“Go ahead.” Glad to have an excuse to lean against the Jeep, Cade pulled his radio from his bag. “McKenzie here.”
“This is dispatch. We got that weather report you wanted.”
“Good. What’s the forecast?” He watched Trey stride to the door.
“Right now it’s holding steady at fifteen knots, with gusts up to twenty-five. But there’s a front coming through….”
The cabin door opened. A tall, slender woman stepped out and her dark hair gleamed in the light. Trey shifted sideways, and Cade caught sight of her face.
His heart stalled. His chest cramped tight, and suddenly, he felt dazed, as if the tree had crushed him again.
His gaze swept over her features. Those dark, exotic eyes. That full, erotic mouth. And damned if he didn’t still feel that pull, that powerful lure of passion and innocence that had once demolished his heart.
He scowled. Innocence, hell. She was as helpless as a rattler, and about as trustworthy, too.
She looked past Trey and their gazes latched. Her dark eyes widened and she mouthed his name.
Bitterness seeped through his gut. His ex-wife. Just what he’d needed to cap off a hell of a day.
“Did you get that?” the person on the radio asked.
“Yeah, I heard you.” He turned his back on his ex-wife. The motion set off another wave of dizziness. “Listen. There’s a Forest Service road that runs just north of the fire, then intersects with Highway 10. Is it still clear?”
“It is for now. In an hour it could get dicey. The front’s going to push that way.”
Unless they stopped the fire first.
“Okay. Let me know if anything changes. We’ve got a civilian heading out that way.” He turned the radio to scan.
Trey jogged over. “She’s packing up now. She’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.”
“Great.” He shoved his radio into his bag and sharp pain jolted his shoulder. He sucked in his breath.
“Some shock seeing her again,” Trey added.
“Yeah.” Shock didn’t begin to describe it. He felt that familiar anger blaze through him, the same rage and resentment that had consumed him for months. The fury that he’d let himself be conned by a pretty face in search of an easy paycheck. And had convinced himself it was love.
“How’s the shoulder?” Trey asked.
He brought his attention back to his job. Smokejumping. Fighting fire. The only thing that mattered. Everything he was.
But he had to face the harsh truth. He couldn’t work this fire with his body in this condition, and refusing to leave could endanger the troops.
“It hurts like hell,” he admitted. “My collarbone’s probably cracked. I’d better get it checked.”
“Do you want me to call for a chopper?”
“There’s no place to land. The nearest clearing’s a mile up that ridge.” He’d hiked this forest enough to know.
“So we cut a spot.”
“We don’t have time. A front’s moving in. If we don’t get that fire stopped now it could go big.” Which would endanger the men even more. And he could never live with himself if that happened.
“So what do you suggest?” Trey asked.
What else could he do? The men couldn’t afford to waste valuable time clearing a landing pad, and he couldn’t get himself to that ridge.
He glanced at the Jeep. Dread churned through his gut and the bitter taste of gall filled his mouth.
It had been one hell of a day, all right. And it was about to get even worse.
He slowly turned back to the cabin. The door opened and Jordan stepped out, carrying a bag. He smiled grimly. “It looks like I’m going to hitch myself a ride.”
Still reeling from the shock of seeing Cade again, Jordan loaded the last of her belongings in the back of the Jeep and shut the hatch. She’d never expected to see him here. Never. And now she was going to spend six hours with him in the Jeep? Good God. Dealing with his memory had been hard enough.
She lifted her stunned gaze to her ex-husband. He stood at the front of the Jeep with Trey, examining a map spread over the hood. While she’d packed up the few blankets and bowls worth saving from the cabin, they’d pored over the map, discussing wind speed and fire retardant.
Cade’s hard hat dipped as he folded the map and tucked it into his PG bag. Then he pulled out a battery pack and handed it to Trey. “You might as well take my spares,” he said. “You could be out here for a while.”
His deep, sensual voice drew goose bumps along her arms, and despite the warm wind, she shivered. God, she’d once loved that voice. It was the first thing she’d noticed about him in that smoky Mexican bar.
The first of many. He stepped away from the Jeep and her gaze drifted over the rest of him. Ashes dusted his battered boots. His olive drab pants rode low on his lean hips and his yellow fire shirt stretched wide across his shoulders. He looked broader through the chest than before, his neck thicker.
Her pulse fluttered. Even in his early twenties, he’d been a gorgeous man. But now…
Now he was simply a smokejumper who needed a ride.
Trey nodded in her direction. “Thanks for helping us out here.”
“Sure. No problem.” Trey headed toward the trees, and her pulse faltered. No problem? When she was alone in the forest with Cade?
She slid her gaze to her ex-husband, and those shocking blue eyes met hers. Her heart lurched, then wobbled madly. Oh, God, those eyes. How could she have forgotten? That brilliant blue. That carnal gleam. And when he’d smiled…She’d taken one fatal look in that Cancún bar and fallen hard.
But he didn’t smile at her now. His gaze slammed into hers, narrow and cold, as stark as the grim lines bracketing his mouth. Harsh, like the chiseled cheekbones streaked with dirt and the hard jaw lined with blond stubble.
He strode toward her and her nerves climbed higher. She scanned his face, searching for a hint of warmth. His mouth flattened, and her hopes tumbled. So much for a friendly ride.
He stopped at the rear passenger door, his stony gaze locked on hers. “You ready?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He dropped his PG bag to the ground, yanked open the door with his left hand and hefted the bag to the seat. Still using the same hand, he pulled off his hard hat, dumped it beside the bag, and slammed the door. Then he opened the front passenger door and bent his long frame to climb in the Jeep. He froze with a rough gasp of breath.
And suddenly, it hit her. No wonder he wanted a ride. He was injured—and badly, if it had made him leave his job. The job he’d loved more than her.
She quickly moved behind him. “Can I help?”
“No.”
“But your arm—”
“It’s fine.”
Uncertain, she stepped back. He pulled himself inside the Jeep and awkwardly reached for the door.
“Here, let me—” She started to close it, but his hard stare stopped her cold. “Fine.” She lifted her hands and backed off, then stalked to the driver’s-side door. Let him fend for himself if he was too proud to accept any help.
Too proud or too bitter?
She slid behind the wheel and braved a glance at the man slumped beside her. His skin looked ashen beneath the grime, his profile strained. The faint scent of wood smoke permeated his clothes.
She shook her head. Why would he be angry? He was the one who’d abandoned her. He’d flown off with that booster crew to Alaska, just when she’d needed him most.
She blocked off a swell of resentment. It didn’t matter anymore. Their marriage was over, and had been since the day he’d left for refresher training.
Besides, she had her life in Virginia now—a good one, too, including a man who’d never leave her. All she had to do was drive Cade back to Missoula and then she’d never see him again.
She inhaled deeply, cranked the engine to life and slowly released the clutch. The Jeep lurched forward, hit a downed branch, and jostled sideways.
She glanced at Cade. The grooves deepened around his mouth and his skin paled even more. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Her nerves tightened. Maybe he was all right, but she had a feeling this was going to be the longest six hours of her life.
The Jeep had stopped moving. Disoriented, Cade forced open his eyes and blinked hard to clear his blurred vision. They were parked in the middle of the narrow dirt road, surrounded by towering pines. The driver’s door hung open and the warm wind ruffled a paper napkin on the console. Jordan was nowhere in sight.
He lifted his hand to rub his eyes, then froze as pain sliced his shoulder. Damn. That tree had slammed him good. His skull vibrated like the two-stroke engine of a chain saw, and his entire body felt pummeled.
He glanced at his watch, then slumped back against the seat and shut his eyes. They’d only been driving for a few minutes. He’d either passed out or fallen asleep as soon as they’d left the cabin.
But where was Jordan? And why weren’t they moving? He jerked his eyes open again. This was a hell of a time to take a break. They needed to get out of here before the wind picked up and pushed the fire to the road.
Stifling a groan, he reached over with his left hand and shoved his door open, then swung out his legs and stepped down. Dizziness swamped him, and he hung on to the door to catch his balance. Several breaths later, the ground steadied and he slowly straightened.
“Don’t shut the door,” Jordan said, her voice low.
Startled, he turned toward the back of the Jeep. Jordan knelt in the road facing the woods. His gaze followed the curve of her slender back to the lush flare of her hips. Her faded blue jeans were covered with dust.
“What are you doing?”
“Sshh.” She rose to her feet and backed toward him. “I’m trying to catch a dog.”
“What?”
“Quiet! You’ll scare him off.”
He frowned at the bowl of water she’d set on the road next to what looked like pieces of sandwich. He followed her line of vision to the trees but couldn’t see anything.
He massaged his eyes. “How long ago did we stop?”
“I don’t know. Maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Hell. They were far too close to the cabin. “Listen—”
“Shh. Here he comes.”
A clump of ferns edging the road swayed, and then a dog slunk out. At least he thought it was a dog. It was the scrawniest thing he’d ever seen, with wary, desperate eyes set in a gaunt face hollowed by hunger.
“I almost hit him,” she murmured. “He was sitting right in the road.”
The dog limped closer, favoring his right front paw, then stopped several yards away. Trembling, his tail tucked to his belly and dark ears flattened, he again inched cautiously forward. His eyes darted from them to the food and he let out a pitiful whine.
“I thought he was a coyote at first,” she said, her voice low.
“Coyotes are fatter than that.”
“That’s why I decided he was a dog. Either he’s lost or someone dumped him off in the forest. As if a pet can survive out here by instinct.”
Her indignation didn’t surprise him. She’d always had a soft spot for animals, even wild ones. When they’d lived at the cabin, she’d hung bird feeders in the woods and set salt licks out for the deer.
He turned his attention back to the dog, who was creeping toward the food. He was some sort of shepherd mix, with a matted, tawny coat and dark gray mask and ears. The dog reached the food and stopped. Then suddenly, he bolted back to the woods.
Cade glanced at his watch again. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Go?” Jordan frowned. “But what about the dog?”
“He’ll eat as soon as we leave.”
“And then what? Where’s he going to get more food?” She planted her hands on her hips. The motion tightened the white T-shirt over her breasts. “You saw how skinny he is. And he needs to get to a vet. That front paw doesn’t look good.”
“We don’t have a choice. We need to get out of here before that front hits.”
“But we can’t just leave him here alone.”
That figured. She cared more about leaving a stray dog than she once had about her husband. “For God’s sake—”
“Forget it, Cade. I’m not leaving that poor dog behind. He’s already been abandoned once, and believe me, that’s enough for anyone.” Her dark eyes flashed. “Not that you’d understand that.”
Not that he’d understand what? “What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” His irritation surged.
She lifted her hands and sighed. “All right, fine. I’ll tell you. It’s just that you’re always flying off and traveling somewhere. Having adventures and putting out fires. You don’t know what it’s like to be left behind, to be sitting at home waiting, day after lonely day. But I do. And believe me, I’m not doing that to the dog.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who left me.”
“Only because you’d already gone.”
Incredulity flooded through him. He would have laughed if his ribs didn’t ache so much. “Hell, that’s rich. You walk out without even a note. I come home to an empty house and a goddamn letter from your lawyer. And you accuse me of abandoning you?”
“You went to Alaska.”
He stared at her. “I was working. Earning money. You know, trying to support my wife?”
Her brows rose. “You’re not seriously saying you were doing it for my sake?”
“Hell, yes, I was doing it for you. Wasn’t I supposed to work?”
“But you were gone all the time. You hardly came back. You even joined that booster crew to Alaska.”
“That was my job,” he said tightly. “You knew that when we got married. The Forest Service owns you in the summer. They send you wherever the fires are. You can’t control where you go. And you can’t just turn work down.”
“You could have found a different job.”
“Right.” That was their problem, right there. Ten years ago, he’d idolized this woman. Worshipped her. Given her his heart, his soul. Everything he owned and every damned cent he earned. And she still hadn’t been satisfied. She’d wanted him to change who he was.
She bit her lip. Her dark eyes widened with that vulnerable look that always made him want to protect her.
His jaw flexed. She knew exactly how to play him, all right. Even knowing the truth, how she’d ripped out his heart and screwed him over, he had the ridiculous urge to console her.
Well, she’d suckered him in once with that helpless act. Damned if he would fall for it again.
She sighed. “Look. Can we just forget it? I don’t want to argue all the way to Missoula.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t need this aggravation. He had enough problems to deal with. He needed to hightail it back to Missoula and get himself checked by a doctor so he could return to the jump list.
“Catching the dog won’t take that long,” she added. “I’m sure he was somebody’s pet.”
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.