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“Thanks, bro.”

Someone calls his name, and with a light punch to my shoulder, he turns away. I should get Janey to come out here for a break. I still don’t fully understand why she stays in Alberta, but she’s a grown woman and makes her own decisions.

I’ll always love my sister, and I won’t cut ties with my mother, but as I look around the diner at all my teammates, I smile. These idiots are my family now.

12

GRIFF

“I know I say this every year but thank god this is our last set of shifts,” Foxxy grumbles quietly to me as we walk in the door of headquarters. “What a fucking winter.”

“Amen to that,” I agree as the door closes behind us. Between unprecedented snow storms, then a rapid spring melt, we’ve been busier this season than I can ever recall.

Voices come from down the hall. We got called in early today for a team meeting about the upcoming storm and flooding concerns. My gut’s been churning ever since I got the storm warning report from our team lead in advance of today.

Olivia left a couple of days ago for her trip into the park. We have no way of getting in touch with her, so all we can do is hope that she and her department are monitoring the situation and she’ll leave the cabin early if need be. Visions of trees falling on the remote cabin she’s staying in, trails washing away, or her slipping down embankments and injuring herself filled my head last night, making it impossible to sleep.

We drop our bags off in the bunk room before making our way to the meeting space.

Taking a seat near the front, I fold my arms over my chest and stare at the map of the area we are responsible for on the wall in front of us. Specifically at the big green patch that denotes Strathcona Park.

Foxxy’s chatting with some of the other staff and volunteers as they filter in, seeming a hell of a lot more relaxed than I’m feeling right now. I envy his easygoing nature, the way he can set aside whatever might be on his mind and be present in any given moment. At the same time, as his best friend, I know what that costs. I know his ability to compartmentalize can be exhausting, and I know that putting on a smile and covering up what he’s really feeling is a self-protection mechanism more often than not.

He doesn’t let a lot of people close enough to see who he really is. He’s a friendly guy, easy to get along with, a good time. But I’m one of the few people who knows that underneath the charm and laughter is a man who feels everything deeply. His empathy makes him incredibly good at this job but it makes this job incredibly taxing on him. Whether he admits it or not.

We both need the baseball season to start. On the diamond, life is so much easier. The expectations are clear. There’s no disasters waiting around the corner, no uncertainty about what the next shift will bring.

Two more shifts That’s it. Until next November rolls around and it all starts again.

I’ve thought about quitting, but I could never leave Foxxy to do this alone. And while I might have the money to support myself even if I didn’t work during the offseason, I know he worries about finances for himself.

When we first signed on with the Thunder, Foxxy asked me to help figure out the best way to invest his salary. Since I’m the one with the degree in business and economics, it made sense.

Foxxy doesn’t come from money like I do. He doesn’t have the safety net I have, courtesy of the trust fund from my grandparents that I gained access to when I turned twenty-five.

It’s not just about the money. I don’t think Foxxy would ever let himself quit search and rescue. Not when his entire family legacy is built in being first responders or the military. It’s not something we’ve talked about all that much, but I can tell that Foxxy feels it’s his duty to maintain that legacy.

“Alright people, let’s get this meeting over with so everyone can get on with their day.” Armstrong’s booming voice comes from behind me as he walks to the front of the room. “We’ve got a massive storm system moving in. The powers that be are predicting upward of one hundred and ninety millimetres of rain in just twenty-four hours.”

Someone in the back, sounds like Castro, lets out a low whistle.

Fucking hell, that’s a lot of rain.

“You all know the fancy term atmospheric river? Yeah, we’re in for a doozy one of those. We’re coordinating with RCMP and local emergency services to notify residents in high-risk areas, and the military units are gearing up for aerial support. It’s an all-hands-on-deck situation. Those of you who aren’t on shift will be going home with radios and will be on call as needed. If you are on shift, buckle up, buttercups. Chances are you won’t be going home for a few days,” he finishes grimly, and the room falls silent.

It’s not the first time Vancouver Island has faced an atmospheric river. And the last one isn’t an event any of us will soon forget. Not only did it wash out two bridges between here and Westport, but farmers needed to use canoes and kayaks to get around their properties to rescue stranded animals. It took months before the area was back to normal.

My mind instantly goes to Olivia. “Is there a team sweeping the parks and campgrounds?” I ask. I hear Foxxy take in a sharp breath as he registers exactly why I’m asking.

Our team lead nods. “Campgrounds are all still closed for the winter, but we’re doing a check anyway. We’ll be communicating with the park rangers to see what they need later today.”

I swallow down the bile rising in my throat. My gaze slides over to Foxxy, and I see his jaw is clenched. He looks over and meets my stare before giving me a sharp nod. He’s just as worried as I am.

And there’s fuck all we can do about it.

13

OLIVIA