Page 21 of Love in the Time of Wildfires

Even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d screwed up their last conversation. Everything had been going strangely well, at least for him. Logan discovered he liked making her all giggly and flustered. There was something very cute about it. These days he found most people annoying, but with River, he was becoming attached to her special kind of annoying.

And then he made a clown of himself, acting as an alternative to a damn squirrel and making the animal a more appealing friend choice. The squirrel came into the relationship to enjoy sharing a snack with her. It never implied she wasn’t a capable adult. He’d become so used to this role, telling his squad what to do and controlling everything, Logan didn’t know how to stop, even while knowing she hated it.

He’d forgotten what it had felt like to have someone in his life that was soft and sweet. Logan only knew smoke and grime, thinking he couldn’t have anything different until he retired and moved to that tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere.

His ex-wife and squad were right. There was something wrong with him. He’d never bring enough value to a relationship, only bringing the smoke and the grime with him. Who wanted that? There were never any promises he could make that the job couldn’t also take away. As much as the occupation beat Logan into the ground, he didn’t think he’d was capable of giving it up—not for anyone. It was all he had. River was better off finding someone else who could find foxes.

Logan took his plate of grub from the camp meal tent, heading to the table where the rest of the Sierra hotshots sat. It had been a long day, but they at least arrived at fire camp at a semi-decent hour for a meal after spending most of the shift digging break lines with their hand tools. As with most of his workdays, he was covered in dirt, ash, and a general griminess that settled into every crevice on his face, inside his nostrils, and between his teeth. The face protectors over his nose and mouth didn’t keep everything away. He tried to clean up as much as possible before eating at least.

As he walked to the table with his food, other firefighters, many type 2, would sneak glances at the hotshots, as though admiring them from afar. There was a hierarchy, even though both positions were dirty as hell. Logan often wondered if this was something his dad held against him since he’d always wanted to be a hotshot but his injuries took him out before he could make it.

“Hey, Sonny,” Jake said from the end of the table. “Ford said he can feel it in his bones that this is going to be a good fire. What do you think?”

“I don’t think he can feel shit in his bones since he obviously didn’t see that there’s a chance of rain in a few days,” Logan replied, claiming a spot on a bench seat. He wasn’t expecting to go home soon, but his gut told him the progress they made was working and the fire was already at twelve percent containment. If rain came, it’d help even more.

Logan checked his phone, which was becoming a bad habit. As with the previous two days, it remained message free.

“Expecting a call or something?” Damon asked with a slight pump of his eyebrows as he chewed on a biscuit.

“No, checking the weather. Mind your own business.” Logan slipped the device back into a pocket.

“You seem to have become an old weather man lately,” Marcus replied with a sly smile.

Logan concentrated on his food, spearing a roasted potato aggressively. He didn’t feel the need to explain anything to his coworkers, even during moments when he wished he had someone to help him figure River out.

Seeming to read his mind, Damon asked, “How’s River doing?”

“How the hell would I know? I’ve been stuck out here, same as you.” He was getting grumpier by the minute, partly because he didn’t know how she was. What if she had decided to go against good sense and hike in the middle of the night? He suddenly needed to know she was somewhere safe. And then he was annoyed because, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t thinking about his savings account but instead wishing he could go home.

“Are you still going to take her hiking?” Grace asked before putting a bite of food into her mouth.

“Already did,” he replied. “There wasn’t any fox. I told you guys that I wasn’t even sure I saw one. You all got her hopes up for nothing.” It felt convenient to blame them for his failure.

“Oh no,” Damon replied with a smirk. “Looks like you’ll have to take her hiking again.”

Logan shoveled food into his mouth so he could get to his tent and finally have a moment’s peace. By the time he got into his sleeping bag on a small cot, he was tired but still thinking about River. He took out his phone, retrieving the text message she had sent during their hike—that ridiculous picture of him. It wasn’t something he wanted to stare at tonight. Logan decided to take a chance. He wasn’t the quickest typer when it came to doing things on his phone—his fingers always felt too big.

Find your fox yet? He looked at the question and thought it did a good job of balancing his desire to check in without coming across as too bossy. He hit send.

He stared at his phone screen for a few moments as though expecting her to respond right away. She didn’t. He set the phone on the ground beside him and turned on his side. Just as well. Logan needed to get some sleep, as tomorrow would be much of the same backbreaking work. He lay in the darkness trying to settle his mind.

The screen on his phone lit up.

He snatched the device from the ground.

River

Logan!!!! Omg! I was just thinking about you today! No, foxes yet. Lol. But I haven’t had a chance to go look. I’ve been good. Don’t worry!

Of course she’d be the type of person who’d use a lot of exclamation marks in her texts. He would have been surprised if she hadn’t. It was more shocking that she seemed genuinely happy to hear from him. More importantly, she’d been thinking about him. He didn’t know how to respond to this. This type of light conversation never came easy for him. Maybe he should ask her how the weather was—

Goddamn Marcus was right. He was turning into an old man weather person.

Before he could figure it out, she sent another text.

River

I made a lunch friend at work! Two days in a row I’ve been eating with Jefferson, and he’s not even a squirrel but an actual human being. Can you believe it?!?!