Page 22 of Light My Fire

Whoops.

But the criminal had put his hands on Tucker, dragging him down the hill, and that usually didn’t mean that said prisoner and hostage decided to be BFFs.

Usually. To hear Tucker tell it, Rio had snatched him out of the flames of death, but Stevie wasn’t taking her eyes off the guy.

Well, mostly. When she didn’t have her gaze pinned to Eugene, that was.

But before that, she’d had to figure out how to keep her father from getting in the middle of the entire mess.

To be honest, she’d nearly broken out into a run, taken by the urge to fling herself into his strong arms, so shaken by seeing him. His ash-black face, dirt-strewn and sweaty, his body still lean and strong—Archer Mills was every inch the hero she remembered.

She’d wanted to weep when he looked up, his brown eyes landing on her, so much shock and crazy joy in his expression, she wanted to believe her mother’s words.He misses you.

Dad.

He’d opened his mouth as if to say her name, and frankly, blow her very fragile cover, and her brain had kicked in. “Deputy Mills, from the US Marshal’s office.” She gave him the tiniest shake of her head, then addressed the cadre of prisoners, who were tending the grass fire whipping in the wind. “In case any of you think that you’re going to make for the hills, I’m here to make sure you finish your work and head back to the Copper County facility as soon as possible.”

And that had cut off any reunion with the effectiveness of a slap. The light in her father’s eyes had died, and he’d nodded, turning away from her.

She hated herself then. More. Hated herselfmore.And now, as he sat away from her, not acknowledging her, she longed to tell him the truth. She missed him too.

But if Eugene knew Archer Mills was her father, the real criminal might use him as leverage. Might make her choose between the law and her father.

Again.

So she took a breath and glanced at Tucker. The smokejumper had amazing eyes, and when he looked at her, his face still sweetly grimy, his dark brown hair poking from a red bandanna, and a layer of grizzle and ash on his face, he resembled some ethereal dragon slayer.

“What—?” she asked in reference to hiscrazy kind of beautycomment.

“The fire against the aurora borealis.” He nodded to the darkening horizon. The blaze, although stopped by the burnout when it had crested the ridge, still fought for life north of the ridge, an orange glow and flicker that rent the shadows of the crimson night. Behind it glowed the arching lime green light off the polar cap. Smoke drifted off the fire in a haze.

“Fire settles down at night as the humidity in the air rises. We’ll be safe here, but I’ll keep watch,” Tucker said. “Hopefully it’ll die in the night, but if not, we’ll put her down in the morning, do some mop-up, and we can call in the chopper and send the hand crew home.”

“You mean back to prison.”

He nodded. Glanced at her. “Funny. The one guy who I pegged as a criminal turned out to be a hero.”

Her gaze went to Rio. She supposed he could be called handsome. Short, wavy black hair, muscular, quiet. Rio sat with his back against a tree, one knee drawn up, holding a cup of coffee in his fingers. In the flames and glow of the night, he appeared tightly wired, watching everyone.

Stevie noticed that the female smokejumper had offered him her power bar and even sat and talked with him. Whatever their exchange had been, she finally moved off to sit with the rest of their crew.

Now, Stevie turned to Tucker. “March is my responsibility, so I won’t be sleeping. Go to sleep. You worked hard today—you must be exhausted.”

“It’s the buzz of the fire. It’s still under my skin. I won’t sleep for hours.”

She gestured to the emergency ice pack tied to his knee. “How is it?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just an old snowboarding injury. Acts up sometimes.”

“Snowboarding?”

He nodded and pulled his pack over, opened a side pocket, and pulled out a Snickers bar. He opened it and broke it in half. Held out one to her.

“Really? That’s sort of like giving me your last sip of water.”

He grinned. Nice teeth. “Sorta. But we’ll be out of here tomorrow, and I’m hoping you’ll make it right and agree to have dinner with me.”

Oh, Tucker. “I’d…love to. But I’ll be headed back to Anchorage with…” She nodded toward Eugene, who lay on his back, his arms folded over his chest as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

---