Page 37 of Fireline

“We don’t have time for that right now.” She grabbed him by the bicep.

Booth spun around. The muscles in his jaw flinched. “We can’t just let this guy get away. That’s already happened once.”

“I agree. But that’s what the police are for.” She released his arm. “They sent a plane up with a six-man crew this morning, but the fire is dangerously close to Snowhaven. We have to go. Aria has the plane ready.”

Booth stared at her for an uncomfortable moment. “Look, there’s something going on here that’s bigger than you and me. Bigger than wildfires and arsonists. And I have to stop it.”

“Is this another one of your ultrafantastical stories about rogue CIA operatives and terrorists?”

Booth turned and marched down the sidewalk.

“Wait. I’m sorry.” Nova followed him. “Where are you going?”

“What’s it look like? I’m going after him.”

“Please…tell me the truth. What’s this all about?”

Booth spun to face her. “Look, whoever is behind this set fire to jump base. Nearly killed you and a civilian. Now Crispin?” He shook his head. “I can’t just walk away.”

Being in this old Western town turned movie set had him talking like he was a Texas Ranger or something. There was no sense in reminding him he wasn’t a cop, because she’d already done that. “Come on, we need to get back to the ranch. We’ve got to stop this fire before it reaches the town.”

“Not this time.” The planks creaked as Booth strode across the wooden sidewalk.

She quickened her pace and stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Booth, the team needs you. I need you. You’re one of the best smokejumpers?—”

“I’m not a smokejumper!”

Nova blinked.

He raked a hand through his hair. Stray locks fell back into eyes. “I’m a special agent with the Department of Homeland Security.”

She stared at him for almost a full ten seconds. Then, “I think all these Crazy Henry stories have you mixing up reality with fantasy.” She almost laughed, but the intensity of his gaze said he was serious.

“You don’t get it.” He pushed his hair back and held it with both hands, palms covering his eyes. “Ugh!”

Wait. The secrets. The closed-up conversations. “Is this the secret you’ve been hiding?”

He dropped his hands. Closed the distance between them. Took her hand and clasped it in his. Fixed his ocean-blue eyes on her. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m a smokejumper, but only because it’s my cover. I’m in WITSEC.”

“Witness protection? As a smokejumper? Isn’t the whole point of the program to keep someone alive? This job isn’t exactly safe.”

“It is remote.”

He was serious, wasn’t he?

“All these attacks?” She lifted her chin in the direction of the jail. “They’re because of you?” She laced her fingers through his.

“I—I think so.” He looked down. “I’m still trying to work this out.”

She looked at their hands clasped in one big tangle of fingers and warmth. If what he said was true, he had an impossible choice. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything. I’m sorry about all this, but that gunman is long gone, and Crispin is safe. I’m not going to tell you what to do?—”

“That’s a first.”

“Yeah. Okay. I deserve that.”

He’d finally given her a piece of his past, and while she wanted to keep digging, they had to leave this behind and get to work.

“All I know is the fire is bad, and if we don’t go, the whole town could be destroyed. There’re more lives at stake. The crew needs you.” She reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I need you out there, just until I have reinforcements.”

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