Feel the Fire (Hotshots 3)

Luis’s eyes narrowed like he was about to ask a follow-up question, but then he shook his head. “So, leaving the past where it belongs, tell me how you envision my role here. I take it Adams is my supervisor, not you?”

“You’re right. But I’m in charge of a lot these days.” He tried to make sure his tone wasn’t too defensive, not liking at all the look of relief on Luis’s face. “The fire behavior specialist role is under Adams in terms of management. He wants me to bring you up to speed, but you’ll report to him, not me. I’ll tell you right now, though, that he’s getting close to retirement and I’ve been taking more and more of the burn boss duties, especially when it comes to the controlled burns. We’ve got one coming up that I’ve been working point on, and Garrick’s been helping me.”

“Not interested in upsetting your fiefdom.” Luis leaned back in his chair. His tone might be this side of bored, but he radiated the sort of take-charge persona that didn’t always function well in a team environment.

Their last group project had been decades prior. Tucker seriously didn’t have any clue about who this stranger was in front of him, what he liked, who he was with, what his work personality was, and wasn’t likely to find out as Luis hardly seemed eager to make friends.

Showing impatience with Tucker’s ruminating, Luis made a little gesture with his hand. “Go on.”

“I’m also the main liaison with the interagency crews when there’s an emergency or an ongoing situation like what we’ve got going this summer with all the spot fires.”

“Tell me more about those. My boss said you’re investigating the possibility of arson. That’s one of my specialties. I wrote my graduate thesis on the different fire spread patterns with deliberate burns, particularly looking at behavior that’s indicative of arson.”

“You’ve got a graduate degree?” Tucker shouldn’t be surprised—this was a specialist role after all, but he was still having trouble reconciling this clearly professional, competent man with the academic-hating boy he’d once known.

“You need my full résumé? I worked on a city crew first, then took an opportunity for wildfire work. An injury to my back forced me back to school, and I was thinking of becoming a fire investigator, but the forest service found me and I’ve been at this a few years now. Paid my dues with big fires and small operations alike. Apparently, our bosses think I can be of assistance here.” More of that hard, defiant stare.

And honestly, Tucker probably deserved it as he wasn’t exactly acting professional here himself. “I’m sure you can. I’ll share what we’re working with in terms of the spot fires and the damage they’ve caused. Avoiding significant spread has kept the smoke-jumping base busy along with ground crews too.”

“You were always hard-charging to be a smoke jumper yourself.” A small smile played with the edges of Luis’s mouth, like maybe he too was remembering their time as fire explorers, the sunny dreams of an adrenaline-packed job and life together Tucker had confessed to him alone. “What changed?”

“Kids.” Much as Luis might not like the mention of them, they were central to everything Tucker had done with his life since their arrival. “I needed a stable year-round job with benefits. I did some years on engine and hotshot crews early on, but I pretty quickly realized that the boys needed me around more than I needed that tryout.”

“Ah.” Luis’s eyes went predictably distant at mention of the twins. “Too bad. I’ve worked with them some over the years. You would have made a good jumper.”

Tucker wasn’t sure whether that was praise or a subtle dig, but he nodded all the same. “Just wasn’t how life worked out.”

“Yeah.” Nodding thoughtfully, Luis exhaled hard. And wasn’t that a good motto for this whole divide between them, the decades of no contact, the past that once was and the future that might have been. Just wasn’t how life worked out.

He wouldn’t trade his boys for anything, not even that murky future he’d once wanted with all his heart, the one where he’d be a smoke jumper and Luis would be in school, and they’d make a little life for themselves under warm, blue California skies. He might not regret how life had worked out, but he was sorry for the hurt he’d caused them both, and still wasn’t exactly sure how or when to apologize. More dwelling in the past seemed like a terrible idea, and he really didn’t need coworkers overhearing an argument, but the urge to try to make things right was there nonetheless.

“I’m—”

“Knock, knock,” Christine called before opening Tucker’s door. “Fred said Luis can use Marjorie’s office while she’s on leave. I’m going to go in and clear the desk for you now.”