“You don’t have to make do on memories. I’m going to touch you for many more years.”
“I knew you’d never leave me.”
“Baby, I’d walk out of hell to get back to you.”
“I know, Jack. You hurt yourself.”
“My ankle. I took a fall into a ditch. I’m not as agile as I was. I might’ve really screwed it up, running on it. It really slowed me down—and I was so ready to feel you against me.”
“What’s this?” she asked, wiping at the gooey red stuff on his shirt.
“Flame retardant. It got dumped right on me. Knocked me down—but there was a path out. Then I had to run on this damn ankle. It was awful. And then I got lost. You can get even worse lost at night when you can’t see the stars because of the trees and smoke. I think I’m going to give up firefighting.”
She touched his face, which appeared to be sunburned beneath the soot and ash. He winced. Then he bent down and crossed his arms under her bottom and lifted her up to his face. “Kiss me. Gimme a taste.” She lowered her lips to his for a kiss that was deep and strong. Behind them, a cheer went up from all the marines gathered on the porch. But Jack took his time, moving tenderly over her lips, grateful to dive into her sweet love once more. He’d been wanting to kiss her for twenty-four hours and he wasn’t going to be rushed. Not by them, not by anything. He hated the thought of letting her go, as in love with her today as that very first day. More.
“You taste like soot,” she told him.
“I know,” he said. “You taste so good.” He jerked his head in the direction of his bar, his boys. “I hate when they do that.”
“I think I’m starting to get used to it.” She smiled. And she kissed him again.
As anxious as Jack was to get home, he needed a few minutes alone with Mike Valenzuela. They sequestered themselves in the RV behind the bar. Jack told only Mike the details of his rescue, and stayed there while Mike called the sheriff, repeating the story as well as the license-plate number. When Mike hung up, he slowly turned to look at Jack.
“Well, they were ahead of you. A couple of growers—partners—had a little lover’s spat. One was shot, the other set him on fire to conceal evidence, thus the fire. They’re investigating a drug-related murder covered by arson. A suspect was arrested trying to get away,” Mike said.
Jack swallowed. “Was it our guy?”
“I’m guessing here, but if it was our guy, he would not have stopped for you. In fact, he might’ve put a bullet in your head to keep you from talking to the police. He definitely wouldn’t have told you anything about the fire. Jack, that guy isn’t what we think.”
“What do we think?” Jack asked.
“That he’s an ordinary grower. He might even be law enforcement, and if he is, they’ll pull him in, relocate him and we’ll never know.”
Jack stood up. “Well. I guess that’s it, then. The way he was driving, he probably wrapped himself around a tree before he got out of the county. I’m going home.”
“Have a good sleep.”
“Long sleep. And, Valenzuela. Thanks. For looking for me.”
“It’s just what we do. What you do. I’m just glad we didn’t have to bring a crispy critter home to Mel.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Jack, Preacher, Mike and Paul went to their homes, their wives, to their showers and then their beds for a long, clean sleep. The others had too much of a drive ahead to think about just taking it on after no sleep in twenty-four hours. Phillips and Stephens were headed for Reno and went over the mountain pass with a big thermos of strong coffee from the bar and two sets of eyes to stay on the road. Zeke and Corny took the night in Jack’s guesthouse before tackling their long drives. Joe took Nikki back to the cabin.
That left Muriel and Walt with no instructions and a bar on their hands.
“I’d say we’re done here,” Walt said. “We didn’t exactly clean the place, but the food’s put away and the dishes done. We did our part.”
“I did my part,” Muriel said. “By now Buff has exploded in his kennel and although Luce is an angel, it’s possible she had a few accidents and ate my house out of boredom. She’s a Lab. These things are inbred.”
“Preacher left keys. What do you say we lock up and give up.”
“Let’s,” she said. “I’m wrecked.”
“I bet you’re tired.”