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make sure they wore their goggles, that they kept hydrated, and took breaks when they needed to.
    He came to Carly, and she struck her shovel into the dirt and leaned on the handle.
    Jeremiah pulled up the bandana hanging around her neck and set it over her nose. “Are you doing okay?”
    She nodded then jerked a thumb behind her, indicating Tater who’d insisted on working close by. “My watchdog’s making sure I do my job.”
    Jeremiah grunted. “You could shadow me.”
    “I’ll be fine. It’s kind of fun,” she said, her eyes smiling. “Told him I was feeling itchy, that the fire wasn’t big enough.”
    “Don’t borrow trouble.” He shook his head then leaned close. “I’ll want that ass in one piece tonight.”
    She laughed. “I’ll be fine. If the smoke gets too thick, I’ll retreat. If the fire moves too fast, I’ll hit the river.”
    He nodded, glad she’d paid attention to the safety briefing. “I’d kiss you, but that’d only give Tater more ammo.”
    “Later,” she said, her voice pitched low.
    A quick, casual “love you,” was on the tip of his tongue, but he held back the words. Just barely. The ease with which his mind thought the declaration shocked him. He’d dated his ex-wife for months before he’d said the words, and even then, they still hadn’t felt quite right.
    He left her, his mind whirling, and walked back down the line. A gust of wind sent smoke curling around him, and he grabbed his meter from his back pocket. Twenty miles per hour.
    The radio squawked. “Wind’s picking up,” Blake’s voice boomed, and he sounded disgusted.
    “Do we bail?”
    “Not sure if it will last, but you might want to go ahead and have your crew lay down water. We’ll start on this end, too.”
    Jeremiah ran to the west end of the firebreak. “Wind’s rising. Lay down water. Put out that fire.”
    He continued down the line, issuing orders as the smoke thickened and flames became visible in the distance, climbing the pines. Although recent rains had kept the pines moist inside, the wind was whipping up embers to catch any dry needles above them.
    When he reached the east end of the line, he found Tater already using his backpack sprayer to move into the flames and douse them. Carly worked furiously with a wet sack.
    He grabbed the damper tool she’d dropped to the ground and pounded the flat, hardened-rubber surface against edge of the fire.
    Another gust of wind blew darker smoke around them. The upper branches of a pine directly in front of them burst into flame with a whoosh. “We need to pull back.”
    Tater and Carly glanced beyond his shoulder. Both their gazes widened.
    Carly grabbed his arm and turned him. The fire was climbing the vegetation hugging the canyon wall.
    His body tensed.
    “We need to get to the river!” she shouted.
    With a nod, he pointed. “Through there. Tater, lay down water as you move through. It’s not far. I have to check on the others.”
    “Come with us,” Carly said, her expression worried. “They had to have seen the signs.”
    He shook his head, and then gave Tater a steady glare. “Get her to the water. Carry her if you have to.”
    Tater nodded then held her arm as Jeremiah plunged back into the smoke.

Chapter Seven
    ‡
    T rying not to panic, Carly trudged behind Tater as he moved out, spraying water in hopes of keeping a clear path to the river. Around them, the fire was no longer crackling—it roared.
    “What the hell happened?” she asked, and then coughed as smoke filled her mouth and nose. She pulled up her bandana and walked faster.
    “You happpened,” Tater bit out, then coughed hard. “First, you try to kill me with a string of Black Cats—”
    “Wasn’t trying to kill you. Just pay you back.”
    “For what?” he snapped, halting and turning.
    She shoved him forward. “River.” The smoke was thicker, they could barely see five feet in front of their location. Heat surrounded them, flashes of orange flame from above