Page 61 of Fireline

Aria nodded. “Nova’s my best friend. It was killin’ me to sit here. You’re just the push I needed. We’ll scour every acre if we must.”

Booth shifted the focus back to the immediate crisis. “Can you fly in these winds?”

Aria adjusted her baseball hat by lifting it and putting it back on her head. “I can, but Booth, it’s risky. The winds are unpredictable, and it’s not like I’m flyin’ an F-35.”

“I won’t jump unless it’s safe. I need to find her. Please, Aria.”

She chewed the side of her lip. “All right. I’m probably going to get fired for this, but I could use a change of scenery anyway.”

“Thank you!” He hugged her. “I don’t want you to lose your job, but really. Thank you.”

“Okay, okay.” She patted his shoulder. “Let’s get moving.”

“I’ll grab my gear while you do your checks.”

Aria cast a hard look at him.

“Just in case,” he said. “Always gotta be prepared.”

Booth ran to the ready room and found a spare set of Nomex pants and shirt and changed into them. He pulled on his padded jumpsuit and his parachute gear. On his way out, he grabbed a helmet, skipping all the extras he normally stuffed in his pockets.

He’d only jump if he found Nova and conditions were right.

Back at the plane, Aria had torn through preflight checks in record time and was ready for takeoff. “Strap in.”

He climbed inside and buckled in next to her.

The propellers of the DHC-6 Twin Otter roared to life.

As Aria piloted them up into the swirling darkness, Booth prayed. “God, Nova’s probably out there alone and injured. I need to find her. Help her get home. Please keep her safe from the fire and any other danger she might face.”

Like Floyd.

In the cockpit, Aria focused on navigating violent currents causing intense turbulence. Gale-force winds buffeted the wings as she fought to hold course for Nova’s last coordinates.

As Booth peered through the haze, his stomach twisted from more than airsickness. A sea of orange and black stretched as far as he could see. Flaming tongues consumed everything in their path.

Somewhere down in that fiery wasteland was the woman who held his heart.

The plane descended toward the last known location of Nova’s jump. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but the flames still burned hot beneath them.

“She’s a survivor,” Aria yelled over the plane’s engine. “We just have to find her.”

If she could still be found. Wildfires didn’t care if she was the strongest woman he’d ever known. That she’d endured the nightmare of riding away from a fire, leaving her parents to perish. That she’d emerged with a heart burning to help save lives from the very thing that had stolen her family.

No, he couldn’t lose hope. Not when he’d just found true purpose again. God had redeemed him. Given him a new life—the life he really wanted despite all the running and hiding. “She’s down there somewhere. I know it.”

Gripping the radio, Aria switched to command’s operational channel. “Jump Two checking in. Currently en route to recent search sector three on a recovery mission.”

Miles’s gravelly voice crackled through. “Aria, what’re you doing out there? Winds are still erratic. You do not have permission for this.”

Aria kept them on course through an updraft’s jolt. “Extra pair of eyes on the ground. We’re not jumping.”

“You darn well better not be.” He paused. “Go ahead. We won’t have clearance for jumpers for a few hours yet. Logan’s coordinating the search and rescue on the ground.”

“Copy. Switching to the SAR frequency for now.” Aria toggled over and nodded to him. “Go ahead and check in. I need to focus.”

Booth held the call button. “Logan, it’s Booth. What’s your team’s status?”

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