And then as quick as it blows in, the dust storm calms. It hangs in the air for a minute before I catch the whirl of the black copter blade soaring into the sky over us. Two paper sacks are thrown near our faces.
“Lucky bastard. If I had Madison here…” Dean murmurs, except I miss the rest of his sentence as I blow out a breath.
It’s just breakfast delivery.
“I really need to tell him about her,” I whisper, more to myself than to Reed, and another shaky breath gusts from my lungs.
“Let me do it,” he offers, brushing his hand down my cheek.
I wish I could trap all of my problems outside this canvas bubble. Stay in here forever with him.
“I can’t let you do that,” I say. “He’s finally starting to let you in. It needs to come from me.”
He frowns when I pull away from his touch, running a hand down my braid where it’s plastered to the back of my neck.
I miss showers.
I slink out and snatch up my breakfast sandwich, hoping the helicopter chaos is my answer to escaping unseen. I work the wrists of my bunched shirtsleeve down my forearms as I stand and squint into the daylight.
No such luck.
Theentirecrew stares back at me.
I don’t know if we ever were one, but I guess Reed and I are not a secret anymore.
I might as well be picking dandelions.
If I thought my hand tool was heavy yesterday, how it feels today is laughable. Sweat trickles from my hairline toward my eyes and I wipe it with the back of my glove, smearing another layer of soot across my already caked forehead.
I need a break.
Grabbing a bottle of water from my borrowed line pack, I drain a full liter down my throat. Thank you, Air Tactical 6; it’s still cold.
My stomach growls. How long has it been since I ate?
Slipping the pack to the ground, I rummage through the front pocket. My hand closes on a crinkly corner, but much to my disappointment, the item packaged in aluminum foil and plastic is an MRE meal.
Nope. Won’t be needing that.
I stuff it back in. I think it’s Marshall’s? He could use the extra calories.
With a second sweep of the front pocket, I pluck out a bag of trail mix. I can’t tear the top off fast enough when laughter steals my attention. Even though it’s the fifth time I’ve heard it since last night, I don’t recognize who it belongs to until I see my father’s head tipped back at something Murphy said.
Will there ever come a day when it doesn’t sound foreign to me?
He catches me staring and approaches my resting spot.
I pop a red M&M in my mouth.
“You like it here,” I state. A truth that seems to set him free when he gazes with adoration at his surroundings.
“What’s not to love?”
I chew two orange M&Ms, the chocolate melting on my tongue.
Had you asked me before now… the sight of charred ground, burnt trees, and smokey skies would not be something I’d have categorized with the word love. But now that I’ve been out here, seen it for myself, I know that’s not what he’s talking about. Or rather,who.
The guys sawyering and cutting and protecting this land are his family. And in the past, that realization would have broken me. But as I’ve gotten to know them personally, it’s a bond I admire. Even now, I watch Ramirez with his frosted tips humming, and Murphy with his burly beard and larger-than-life smile shaking his head at him. They’re two very different men working together as one. Even Dean and Reed seem to be in sync. Something I didn’t want to mess up by letting Reed take the fall for Madison.
