“Don’t jump to any conclusions,” Char said. “They’re all highly trained. They know what they are doing.”
“You don’t understand. He wasn’t supposed to be working yesterday. They called him in because they are short staffed.”
“What are you talking about?”
I nodded, the anxiety quickly shifting to fear. “His captain was worried about him and that’s the only reason he was able to save me. He was sent home to heal from Will’s death.”
“Oh, God. Just take a deep breath. We’ll find out who was injured. Mark. Can you turn up the sound?”
The bartender looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Sure thing.”
I could barely hear the sound and found myself walking closer to the television. It was obvious the footage had been taken much earlier in the day, the aerial views highlighting the devastation on a mountain side close to Missoula. I strained to hear what was being said.
“While the fire at the local mill is still under investigation, according to sources, there is a strong possibility the fire was intentionally set.” The reporter shook his head.
“Arson,” I moaned. “What is wrong with people?”
We weren’t the only ones watching what was unfolding. There were others in the bar suddenly glued to the television.
“Hey, Mark,” a guy from the opposite end of the bar yelled. “Louder. Come on, buddy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hold on.” Mark grabbed a remote, pointing it at the larger television in the corner.
“There are some bad actors out there,” Char said as she squeezed my shoulders from behind.
“Unfortunately, one wildland firefighter is currently in the hospital, a full recovery expected. In addition, there are two reported injuries with our local smokejumper team, the Zullies. However, the good news is that the fire is ninety-five percent contained thanks to the heroic actions of our local hotshots.”
As the reporter continued, the sound seemed to echo in my ears, making it difficult to comprehend what was being said.
“See,” Char said, her voice tickling my ear.
“Zullies,” I repeated. That’s what the locals called them. A sign reflecting as much had been emblazoned in neon, hanging in a prominent place inside the bar. A reminder of how many men and women had placed their lives on the line to keep not only our community but those throughout the country safe.
I’d never felt a closeness to them or their activities before. They’d been there if we needed them. Now my heart was thudding rapidly and I was lightheaded from worry.
“This just in. A name of one injured smokejumper has just been released.”
There was even less commotion in the bar, at least thirty people crowding in. I turned my head, noticing there were two similar groups in other parts of Ziggy’s. All watching. All concerned.
“Stephen Beckett has reportedly suffered serious injuries…”
As soon as the reporter mentioned Axe I turned around, unable to look at the screen any longer.
Char was right there, moving by my side. “Take a deep breath. Why don’t you sit down.”
“I can’t. What is happening? Why in God’s name was he on that fucking mountain? Why? He didn’t need to be there. He wasn’t doing well. Then I came into his life. He had to rescue me. He risked his life to save me and look what happened.”
“Whoa. I’m certain it’s not as bad as it seems.”
“Did you see the pictures? The fire? I need to get out of here. I can’t breathe.” I broke free of her hold, immediately reaching into my back pocket for the phone Axe had given me. I needed to see his face. I needed to feel him around me.
“What. Kenzie. Hold on.”
Char’s voice faded into the crowd as I weaved my way through two dozen people, most clamoring to get to the television. This wasn’t happening. He was injured.
Before I reached the main door, a crush of people coming in pushed me back. I struggled to get through but there were too many of them.
The sign for the restrooms caught my eye. With tears forming and no way of getting home, I headed for the peace and quiet of the ladies’ room.
