“Glad you found someone,” Jubal said, digging next to me.

“Maybe,” I said. “I’m batting way outta my league. Just hoping she doesn’t figure it out for a while.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.”

We finished the fire line then used our drip torches to start controlled fires to burn out the fuel before the fire came that way. By afternoon we were in the black again, planning new attacks.

Bobby dropped sludge a few miles north.

Jubal frowned and pulled out his binocs. “That’s where the Geronimos were. They dug in pretty good or they on the move?” he called to Chief.

Chief pulled the radio from his ear. “They already moved. They said the wind is going to change.”

“It hasn’t, has it?” Jubal asked.

The brass called again, and he got of the radio half-impressed, half-bewildered. “It moved.”

Runt’s excitement for that opportunity made his exhaustion melt away, and his pace picked up as we followed Chief to the next hot spot.

“Does she know everything yet? The foster situation? Your bio mom?” Sugar asked, walking next to me with his Pulaski over his shoulder, his hard hat shielding his eyes from the setting sun.

“Does anyone really know everything? I know next to nothing about her,” I said.

“You know what I mean.”

“She knows the best parts. That’s all she needs to know.”

“Enough!” Jubal yelled. “Look!”

We came to the top of a ledge and looked over at the rolling tops, some covered in pines and aspens, about a fourth dead and fallen, waiting to be eaten and spit out by the approaching fire. The sky was filled with a gray haze, the sun shrouded but still managing to cast a light that mirrored the flames below.

“Take it all in, boys,” Jubal said. “Last hike this year.”

The fire was 99% controlled, and the crew was loading up and traveling back to Estes Park. Everyone except me, and Taylor was probably staying behind too. One more hot spot. One more attack. One more night sleeping on the ground with just an emergency blanket to fight the cold. I was one flight away with Bobby to fire camp to her. Naomi was on the other side of tonight. I’d never been so anxious to get off a tour. Whatever it was, I wanted more.

chapter twenty-three

history for sale

Naomi

“S

he left me,” Peter said. His tie was loose, his first button undone, sweat dripping from his temples. His palm was flat against the doorjamb as he hunched over.

I held my door open but stood stubbornly in his way. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He crossed his arms over his suit coat, white flakes falling onto his slick, dark hair. “Can I come in?”

“No.”

“No?” he asked, surprised. “Naomi, c’mon. It’s freezing out here.”

“Then get back into your fancy car and leave.”

Peter made a face.