| |
“It’s above us,” Ryan said. “They’ve built a fire line, and they’re hoping it holds, but the wind is supposed to come up. I need to get ready.”
“We need to leave,” Kelly said. “Now! Nothing is worth our lives.”
“This is my life,” he said. “You can help or leave. Your choice.”
“Of course I’ll help. Tell me what to do.”
“Follow me.”
He led her into his house and to a large room at the back. Shelves of fabric in plastic boxes lined two of the walls. A large, flat table stood on one side, a sewing machine and cabinet on the other.
He pointed to the last wall. “Those boxes need to go into the Explorer. It’s unlocked. There’s a door over there that leads outside. Go as fast as you can, but don’t hurt yourself.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Wet things down—especially the roof. It’s sparks that keep these monsters going, sparks and wind.” He shook his head. “There are canyons up there. Depending on which one it picks to run down, we could be incinerated or the whole town could be in trouble.”
“No other options?”
“They stop it,” he said grimly. “But that’s tough to do in this terrain.”
She’d pray for that then.
He left, and she got to work. Who knew fabric and thread could be so heavy? She soon settled into a rhythm, her mind whirring over what-ifs and imagining the crackling of fire over her head.
Susan was being thrown right into it.
Her phone rang, and she set down the box she was carrying.
“It’s Maggie,” she said. “Have you heard?”
“I’m at Ryan’s,” Kelly replied. “I’m helping him move quilts.”
“Be safe. From what I’ve heard, it’s coming right at you.”
“They’re trying to stop it. Ryan’s keeping an eye on it.”
“Don’t wait too long. These things move fast. Get back down here.”
“Is the town safe?” Kelly asked, her pulse pounding hard.
Maggie was silent.
“Depends on a lot of things, but the state will throw everything on it. The forest service has sent in their crews, and the local departments are there to help do a lot of the grunt work. They’re building a line to stop it.”
“That’s what Ryan said.”
“Okay. Get to work. Call me if you need anything,” Maggie said. “And get out of there, soon.” She hung up.
Kelly went back to work. The smell of smoke was stronger now, and thick, unnaturally gray clouds menaced the blue sky. How long was it safe to stay? What if the line didn’t hold?
The vehicle was about halfway full when she took a break. She needed something to drink. The heat and smoke were making her throat feel scratchy and tight. She went to the kitchen, rifled around for a glass, and drank some water greedily. A hunk of cheese lay on a cutting board, so she chopped off a slice and stuffed it in her mouth.
She had to find Ryan. This was insane. He should help her with the quilts, and then they needed to get out of here.
She went out to the porch and was immediately drenched.
“Oh, sorry about that,” Ryan yelled from the roof. “How’s it going?”
“I’m not sure it’s all going to fit.”
“Can you put some in your car?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
“Look, Ryan, don’t you think—?“
“No!” he shouted. “Not yet. If you want to go, I understand. But I’m not ready to give up yet. I’ve created defensible space around the cabin, and with a little help, I can save it. I know I can.”
A loud noise, like an explosion, thundered in the mountain above them. The smoke cloud grew.
“I’ve got to keep at it,” he said, then disappeared from sight.
After grabbing another hunk of cheese, she went back to work.
This was insane. Nothing was worth this. They could lose their lives.
She’d loaded both cars and the wall was empty when she went to find him again.
He was in the kitchen on the phone, a hunk of French bread and salami slices added to the cheese she’d already found. He pointed to it with the sharp knife he had in his hand as he talked.
Her stomach growled.
Hunger drove away any manners her mother had painstakingly instilled. Eagerly, she pulled together bread, meat, and cheese, scarfing it down as the world imploded above them.
“Yeah. Got it. Keep me posted. I need probably a fifteen-minute warning,” Ryan said to whoever was at the other end of the phone. “You sure we can’t take a stand here? I’ve pushed the trees back seventy-five feet all around the house. No, I’m not a trained firefighter, you know that!” Ryan’s fist clenched as he spoke.
Was he really thinking of staying here to the bitter end? How could he be so foolish?
“Okay. Fifteen minutes. That’s all I need. And good luck. Hope the line holds. And, thanks, man.” Ryan put the phone down.
“How is it going?” she asked, trying to keep her fear at bay.
“They’re still holding the line. It all depends on what happens overnight. If a wind comes through, we’re sunk. Or if the fire gets hot enough to make its own weather, it becomes unpredictable. They’ll let me know when I’ve got about fifteen minutes to get out.”
“Isn’t that cutting it close?”
“I can make it.” He took her hand. “We can make it. Trust me. I won’t let you burn.”
She wanted to believe him. But did she know him? Did she know anyone?
She withdrew her hand.
“I can’t do this. It’s too close. I can’t stand it!” She wanted to throw up everything she’d just eaten. “And how do you get out of here in the winter?”
“There’s a plow in the shed,” he said mildly.
“Well, I don’t know how to plow. And I don’t want to learn.” She stood and paced. “I don’t live in the woods in California. I live in a nice, civilized place without snow and without forest fires. I don’t know the first thing about running retreats. Look—now there’s Susan, putting her life in danger because of something I did.”
“Susan’s there because she wants to be there,” he said.
“Then she’s nuts. You’re all nuts. I can’t do this!” Hysteria rose within her. She felt trapped. She needed to get out of here.
He stood, his face a blank. “Then go,” he said. “Go home. And while you’re at it, why don’t you keep going—all the way to California. Just close the door on the way out.”
He headed to the porch.
Her stomach roiled as she watched him go.
The ladder thumped against the side of the house.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the empty air. Then she ran down the stairs to her car.
# # #
RYAN WATCHED THE RAV4 hurry down the long, dirt road, his heart tearing in two. He’d hoped, prayed that she’d be okay in Montana. To lose her once had been torture; twice was unbearable.
He should go after her. The cabin wasn’t worth her loss.
Then what?
Could he move to California? Give up the solitude for sunshine and surf?
New York had been gritty and real. Everything he knew about the West Coast was posturing and fluff.
It wasn’t him. He’d die there.
He glanced down the road again as the RAV4 pulled around a corner and out of sight.
He wasn’t going to survive here, either.
# # #
A WHITE FEDEX ENVELOPE glared from the bench on the front porch.
Now what? Her life had been turned upside down in the last few months, and all for what? She snatched up the package and went inside. The return address was New York. She threw it on a far counter.
Her heart ached. She’d gotten too close to Ryan. She’d known this was impossible from the beginning. Her mother was right. Montana was a place for uncivilized and uncultured people who were ready to survive anything. Well, maybe her mother had been wrong about the uncivilized and uncultured part. But she hadn’t been wrong about the survival.
This part of the country asked too much from a person. Not only were there fires and snow, but animals—big animals—lurked in the shadows. On her way down from Ryan’s, she’d spotted a bear in the woods not far from the road. She’d never seen one so close before.
She’d recover from Ryan.
And John.
Eventually.
What did she need right now? Her stomach was still unsettled. She was too keyed up to sleep.
Maybe she should pack.
She sank into a chair.
If only she were braver.
Her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“It’s Maggie. You still up at Ryan’s?”
“No, I’m back.”
“Good. I need you.”
“I’m not sure I—“
“You have to,” Maggie said. “This is what we do. We all pitch in. If you aren’t helping Ryan, then get down here and help make sandwiches. They’ll figure out how to feed all those firefighters tomorrow, but for now we need food and we need it fast. Alex went down to Whitefish and got supplies. We’ve got an assembly line going.”
“I’ll be there.” She could make sandwiches. “Is everyone okay?”
“Only one injury so far. A large tree branch fell on Susan Thomas.”
“Oh, no!”
“It’s okay. She only broke an arm. They took her down to Kalispell. She’ll be fine.”
It wasn’t okay. Susan would have been fine if Kelly hadn’t run that retreat. Somehow, she’d have to find a way to fix it.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Kelly said and ended the call. She headed to her room to change her clothes. At least she could do something. And then she was going to pack up her things, put the retreat on the market, and go back where she belonged.
