“I don’t care,” I said, resting my cheek against his shoulder. I was frozen and exhausted, unsure how my fingers continued to function as the days went on. True to his word, Tyler had kept me close. It was a beautiful but difficult trek, up inclines and through the aspens. In some places, the snow was still ankle-to-shin deep, and we walked for almost an hour to the site through the underwood and slush. My feet and face were numb before we ever reached the fire, but I was distracted from any discomfort when I looked through the lens of my camera.
I could barely move, and the rest of Tyler’s crew were chatting and making sandwiches. After fourteen days on the mountain, they were owed forty-eight hours of mandatory R & R. Even though they were all worn down, their version of a weekend had arrived, and they were restless.
“How are they so … peppy?” I asked, my words slow, my voice hoarse.
“Adrenaline,” Tyler said, picking up my camera and clicking through the various shots.
“How can they still have an adrenaline high? The ride home took forever. I thought we were never going to get back.”
“Every time we leave for a fire, there’s a chance one or all of us might be injured or worse. Returning as a complete unit means a lot.” He handed me the camera. “Nice pics.”
“Thanks.”
He rested his chin on my hair. “Jojo is going to be happy.”
“Thanks. She texted me today. She wants to see what I’ve got.”
“So you’re going to show them to her now?” His eyebrows pulled in. “Does this mean you’re done?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
Tyler was watching his friends wrestle and joke in the kitchen, but he looked unhappy. “Ellie?”
I heard him call my name, but I was at the bottom of a barrel full of water, warm and unwilling to move. The sound of the guys in the kitchen faded away, and all I could hear was the sound of my own heart and the steady rhythm of Tyler’s breath. I sank deeper into myself, comfortable under the blanket and against Tyler’s arm.
“Shut the fuck up!” Tyler hissed. He jerked, and I blinked, seeing a blurry Watts jump over whatever Tyler had thrown at him.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Wow. How long was I out?”
“Three hours,” Jubal said with a smile. “Tyler didn’t move a muscle the whole time so he didn’t wake you up.”
“Did you get dinner?” I asked, looking up at him.
“I brought him a sandwich,” Watts said, throwing the small square pillow back at Tyler. “He’ll live.”
Tyler caught it and held it to his chest, pouting.
“What’s up with you?” I asked.
Watts jutted out his lip. “He’s pissed we woke you up.”
“Knock it off,” Jubal said, handing me a glass of ice water.
“Thanks,” I said.
Smitty turned up the television, and Taco fished for his ringing cell phone, standing up to take the call in the office.
Tyler stood. “We should probably get those shots to Jojo and you home, huh?”
“Yeah. I should probably call José.”
“I’ll take you,” he said immediately.
Jubal watched us with amusement, although I wasn’t sure why. The rest of Tyler’s crew seemed to be going about their business, while still keeping an ear open to whatever I might say.
“Uh, sure,” I said. “Thanks.”
All nineteen hotshots, from Fish to Pup, gave me a bear hug before I left, all asking me to come back soon. Chief made a rare appearance outside of his office to tell me goodbye, and then Tyler walked me to his truck, patiently keeping pace with my sloth-like speed.
“Fuck,” Tyler said under his breath. “I should have started the truck so it was warm.”
“It’s fine. Really, no big deal. I think I’ve proven myself by now not to be high maintenance.”
“That you have.” He opened my door but paused when he noticed me staring. “What?”
“What are you doing?”
He shrugged. “Opening the door for you.”
“Why?” I said. His gesture made me feel awkward.
“Just get in.”
I climbed inside, hugging myself to keep warm while Tyler slammed the passenger door and jogged around to the other side. He was brooding, unhappy about something.
He drove us down to the magazine so I could drop off my flash drive to Jojo. She greeted me with a smile, eager to upload the pictures to her computer.
“Daddy is loving these,” she said.
“Yeah? Does that mean I’m done?” I asked.
“Maybe. I need you to write up what you’ve learned so far, and I’ll clean it up for you. We might need some pork.”
“Um … pork?”
Her finger tapped the computer mouse. “You know … material we might use later.” She scanned me from head to toe. “Go home and get some rest, Ellison. You look like hell.”
“On my way,” I said, taking back my chip and heading for the door.
Tyler’s truck was still running, the exhaust fumes billowing into the night sky. The moment he saw me walking toward him, he leaned over the console and pushed open my door. I climbed up again, and he rubbed my leg quickly.
“We need to get you home. You’re exhausted.”
“You’ve been working a lot harder than me.”
“But I’m used to it. Jojo should give you a few days off. You’re going to get sick.”
“I feel better than I have in a long time, actually.”
Tyler put the gearshift into drive and pulled away from the curb, heading toward my house. He lit a cigarette and handed it to me without me asking, and then lit his own. We didn’t talk much. Instead, I left Tyler to the seemingly millions of thoughts in his head.
Tyler pulled his truck into my drive and slowed to a stop at the gate. I leaned over him to press in the code, and the gate whined, beginning its slow journey open. Tyler pulled forward and drove the mile-long path to the house.
It was dark, and I assumed Maricela and José had gone home for the night.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, gathering my things and climbing down to the concrete below. I walked around the front of the truck, took a few more steps, and then froze.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.