Firestorm (24 page)

Jeffrey looked at Logan with the question in his eyes. Both men looked to the swift water, their minds racing. How would they get him out?

“No way but to go across, as I see it,” Logan said first.

“Yeah. This the best place?”

“Good as any. We don’t have much time.” With that, Logan trudged in, tossing the end of his rope to Jeffrey and wrapping the other end of it around his waist as he fought the numbing glacial waters. “Just my luck that this is one of the few running waterways left in the West,” he quipped.

Jeffrey continued to dole out rope as Logan reached chest-level in the creek, gave up trying to walk across, and swam with all his strength. In a minute he was able to touch on the other side, struggling to gain purchase with his waterlogged work boots.

The old man just stood at the water’s edge, staring across at
Jeffrey. He looked ancient, eighty or ninety years old. Would he survive the crossing?
Sweet Jesus, please help me make the right decision
, Logan prayed silently as he touched the man’s shoulder.

Old eyes shielded by the film of glaucoma turned to look at him. “Oh, young man. Can you save my home?”

Logan wiped dripping water from his face and looked up behind the man. The heat was so intense that it was already drying his skin and his Nomex shirt. “I’m afraid not. I think we’ll be lucky to get you out. What’s your name, sir?”

“Ollenstad,” he said vaguely. “Eric Ollenstad.”

“Are you ready for a dip in the river, Mr. Ollenstad?”

“I suppose,” he said. “I was just saying to my dear wife, Katherine, that it was so hot out we oughtta consider a swim.”

Logan glanced up at the cabin in consternation. The roof was one big flame, the burning beams exposed and the whole structure on the verge of collapse. “Sir! Is your wife in there?”

“Oh no,” Mr. Ollenstad said. “My Katherine went on to glory some years ago. I still talk to her though.”

Logan took a deep breath, relieved. He raised a hand to shield his face from the heat. “I see. Well, come on, Mr. Ollenstad. We had better take that swim now, or we’re not going to get the chance at all.”

It was that night when Reyne turned to see Thomas Wagner, asleep with his head resting on his hands, still sitting at a command radio station as the buzz of night transmissions went on. She went to him and gently touched his shoulder. He stirred a bit but did not waken, ignoring her and the radio buzzing before him.

“Thomas,” she whispered, “wake up. Thomas!”

Finally he opened his bloodshot eyes and blinked at her. “You
better go take a nap,” she said. “You’re obviously no help here.”

He rubbed his face, embarrassed. “You too, Oldre. You’ve been on as long as I have.”

“I’ll finish up what I’m working on and be right behind you. But first I want to look in on a certain smokejumper …”

Thomas smiled wearily. “Gotcha. See ya at 0600.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” she said, with little pleasure in her voice. As soon as she was out of the command tent, she looked around for Logan. Officially off-duty, she could now concentrate on the one thing on her heart: the gut-wrenching, heart-pulling, incredible urge to see him. Ever since his voice had come over the radio, all Reyne had been able to think of was Logan, and the stories that drifted in about his rescue of Eric Ollenstad had just made things worse. It had taken a supreme effort for her to continue to concentrate on the tasks at hand. But she had stayed on the job and tried to focus. Lives depended upon it.

Already the tent city at Libby resembled the one at Wenatchee. Here and there groups of weary firefighters played Hacky Sack or listened to someone strum a guitar. Others played cards. One group had even set up a makeshift half-court for basketball, using a bottomless waste can nailed to a tree for a hoop.

Reyne reached her tent and walked in to change before going to the mess tent to grab something to eat. There on her pillow was a small bouquet of wildflowers, slightly withered. Smiling, she raised them to her nose, but all she could smell was smoke.
Ah well, it’s the thought that counts
.

She turned around, half expecting Logan to be in the tent with her. He was not. Reyne opened the tent’s window flap and glanced out at the walkway directly in front, but he wasn’t there either. She
felt her sudden, eager smile fade away. Her need to see him was achingly urgent now, and she stripped off her clothes and changed in record time.

Reyne looked from side to side as she walked to the mess tent, scanning the “streets” for any sight of Logan. She couldn’t wait to look into his laughing eyes … had trouble thinking of anything but walking into his arms … wanted nothing but to talk with him, walk with him.

The mess tent was deserted by the time she got there, the food long since stored away. She looked at her watch. Twenty-two hundred hours. Reyne looked around and unconsciously rubbed a hand over her suddenly grumbling stomach.
Gotta credit fire season for one thing at least
, she mused.
Weight loss
.

“Looking for some dinner?” Logan’s voice suddenly sounded directly over her shoulder. It was as if his voice melted and settled over her like a warm blanket—it was so welcome.

“Logan!” Reyne squealed as he picked her up and swung her around, throwing his head back and laughing with joy.

“It is good to see you, too, my love.” Gently he set her down, but she remained in his arms.

Reyne reached up to run her fingers through his short, wavy hair. “It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I swear, Logan, every day seemed like months to me.”

“It is good to be missed,” he said tenderly, nodding. “I hope you realize it’s been even worse for me.”

“Ha! How would that be?”

He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to one side. “Well, because I was missing
you
, of course.”

She smiled wisely. “I’ll take that. Cheap flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”

“Within limits.”

“How about a dinner date with the woman of my dreams?”

Reyne’s eyes grew big. “Dinner? I’m starving! I was just wondering how I was going to make it to breakfast when you came in.”

“I saw you working in the command center and guessed you wouldn’t have time to eat. Come with me, madam, for a dinner you won’t forget.”

Smiling, she took his hand, relishing the feel of his rough palm and fingers enfolding hers. Together, they walked out of the mess tent. Reyne let him guide her. She loved the feeling of being cared for, protected, as much as he obviously liked caring for her.

On the outskirts of the tent city, they entered the forest and made their way to a little clearing by the light of the crescent moon.

Reyne smiled and looked up at him. “This looks like that little spot near the fire camp in Colorado. You know, the place we went after you apologized …”

“I thought so too,” he said, moving to the edge. “And maybe this will remind you of somewhere else.” Logan flipped a switch on a tiny portable generator, and one strand of tiny lights lit up their dinner site.

Reyne grinned. “Hmm. What does it remind me of? There’s some vague image …”

Logan moved to take her in his arms, smiling smugly.

She couldn’t resist. “Christmas?” she asked innocently.

He threw back his head and laughed again. Reyne could feel his laughter reverberate in her own chest. “Really, Logan,” she said, growing more serious. “This was really sweet. I mean, I can’t even
find batteries at camp anymore, and you’ve managed to round up a generator and a string of lights.”

He led her to a log, and they sat down together. “Well,” he said, “I could only get one strand, but I thought it would be enough to conjure up images of our first date.”

“And do you have dinner like you did that night?”

“That,” he said, standing again to pull her toward the folded parachute making up their “dining-room” floor, “will take some imagination.”

“I’m game,” she said. She sat down where he had indicated and waited for him to rummage around in a large paper grocery sack.

Logan pulled out a can of peaches, a paper plate full of cold macaroni and cheese that he had grabbed from the mess tent, and four carrot sticks that looked as if they had been dried on the front lines. He was glad for the darkness as he ruefully handed the shriveled vegetables to Reyne.

“Sorry. It was the best I could do,” he said.

“No apology needed,” she said between bites. “Food is food. The best part is being with you.” In the soft light, her eyes were luminous, and Logan fought off the urge to toss the food aside and kiss her hungrily.
Control, Father
, he prayed silently, still smiling back into Reyne’s eyes.
Help me keep control around this woman
.

“Would you like some of Kraft’s finest?” he asked, handing her a fork.

“Mmm,” she said, taking a bite. “Haven’t had macaroni and cheese for, let’s see, maybe three days?” Fire camps were notorious for serving heavy quantities of carbohydrates and protein to weary, ravenous firefighters.

“They had steak, too,” Logan said, sorry he hadn’t picked up one. “I thought it would be too hard to cut.”

“Oh, that’s fine. All I care about is some food and, as I said, some time with you.” Within minutes she had polished off her dinner, with a little help from Logan. Truth be told, he had stopped to eat a steak and salad with friends while waiting for Reyne to get off her shift.

“Logan,” Reyne said softly, “I have something to tell you.” She looked so joyful, so appealing, so at peace, that he could not resist the urge to reach out and touch her hair softly.

“What, love?”

“I … I think I’m over my fear. I think I’ve finally put that day with Oxbow behind me once and for all.” She looked down at her feet, then back to him. “I really thought about what Beth had told me and concentrated on handing all my worries and fears to Christ. And suddenly, last night, it was as if they had disappeared.”

Logan could feel the smile spread across his face. “So you’re okay?” His heart leaped with excitement. Suddenly he could see their future together, their jobs and lives intersecting and intertwining in more ways than one. Forever. For him, Reyne’s words served as confirmation for something he had wondered about for a long time.

He casually moved a hand to his jeans pocket and felt the familiar small lump of a tiny plastic bag that he had kept with him for weeks. He looked back to her. “You’re okay with us? This?” he asked, waving about their forested fortress. “With me working the fire lines, jumping?”

“I think,” she said, measuring her words, “that you need to go where your heart takes you. God has brought us together, Logan. That’s enough for me right now.”

He sighed, smiling at her, utterly content. Reyne’s words made
him feel free, trusted. Logan reached up to trace her jaw line, staring into her eyes without moving his own. Then slowly he pulled her to him, kissing her in an agonizingly tender way.

When they parted, he smiled again, then reached down to his pocket. “You said this reminded you of Christmas.”

“Yes …”

“Well, I got you a present.”

She gave him a puzzled look. “A present? What? A fire extinguisher? A new Nomex? A fusee?” Reyne asked with a laugh.

He laughed with her, picturing himself bringing out an old firefighter’s backfire torch and grandly presenting it to her with a big red bow. He cast aside the thought, intent on what was at hand. “I hope … I hope that you’ll think it’s even better than that.”

“What could be better than a new Nomex?” she cracked. “Maybe some batteries …”

Logan pulled the plastic bag from his pocket. “Close your eyes.”

Reyne cast him a suspicious look and then complied. “Okay. They’re closed.”

He pulled apart the tiny zippered opening and dumped the delicate ring into the palm of his other hand. “Don’t peek,” he said, moving to kneel in front of her.

“I won’t,” she said.

She was so beautiful, sitting against the log, her shiny hair glimmering in the pale moonlight. Just looking at her seemed to make him ache inside. “Reyne,” he said, his voice low.

“I can open them?”

“Yes.” He watched as her smoky eyes fluttered open and she looked at him with wonder. He moved his hand, and her eyes followed.

“A ring?” she asked at last.

“A ring.”

A smile spread across her face. “Does this mean we’re going steady?”

“I hope. For a long, long, time. Reyne Oldre, would you consider being my wife?”

A shadow fell over her face. “I would. I mean, Logan, I … I would love to. Consider it, I mean.” Her features contorted as she struggled to get the words out now. “Logan, isn’t this a bit soon? I mean we’ve only known each other for a few months.”

His gaze never wavered. He watched her and smiled. Somehow he had known this wouldn’t come easily. But that was all right. Logan planned to bring her along, convince her, for as long as it took.

“Reyne, I know. I know I love you and want to spend every day possible with you. I want to take you to bed and wake up with you in the morning. Heck, I want to wake up in the middle of the night and watch you sleep. Somehow I know you’d be even more beautiful in the middle of the night. Peaceful. Like an angel.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m not such a peaceful sleeper,” she murmured ruefully. He reached up to cradle her cheek.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I adore you, Reyne, and I know I want you to be my wife. Don’t you know if you want me as your husband?” His voice was not wheedling. Logan wanted only to push her to the truth that he knew was in her heart. It had to be. God could not let him get to this point without giving him some sign that his feelings were not reciprocated. Certainly not …

“Logan McCabe,” she said quietly. “I’ve made a decision.”

“You can think about it if—”

“No. I’m through living my life dictated by fear. Isn’t that what I
just told you? Oxbow is gone. He tried to do his damage, but I’m living with the confidence of Christ now. He’s going before me. And here you are,” she said, looking up at him with shining eyes, “a handsome, courageous, loving, happy man, wanting to take me as his wife.”