Back to Eden. Melinda Curtis
is fixing an engine,” Rachel said. “Cheerleading is for sissies.”
Missy shook her head. “Boys don’t like tomboys.”
As Rachel turned back to face Cole, she caught a whiff of herself—sweat and a combination of exhaust fumes, slurry and engine oil. Ugh. Cole had always liked girlie girls. Rachel plastered what she hoped resembled a smile on her face, hoping at least her manner would convey what a cool, polished woman she’d become, and not raise suspicion about the secrets she was hiding.
“Hey, Cole. Long time no see.” Good. She sounded unfazed, not like a woman whose heart pounded crazily in her chest.
And then Cole was laughing as he scooped her up and spun her around in a crushing embrace.
The world slowed down, winding back, back, back, to a simpler time when anything was possible and happiness had seemed so easy to attain.
Cole.
Without thinking, Rachel clung tighter, pressed closer, until she heard the buzz of a small Cessna’s engine overhead and reality came crashing back.
What was she doing? “Put me down!” Rachel struggled against Cole’s rock-solid chest and her traitorous emotions. “Dammit, Cole. Put. Me. Down.”
Unceremoniously, his arms released her and Rachel stumbled, but somehow managed to regain her balance.
“This guy buggin’ you, Rachel?” Danny asked, a steadying presence at her side, even though his wiry physique was no match for Cole’s.
“No. He’s an old friend,” Rachel admitted after a moment spent unable to avoid looking at Cole. “Why don’t you get back in line, Danny. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”
Danny moved slowly toward the chow line with a few dark looks for Cole.
Meanwhile, Cole didn’t say a word. He just stood there watching her with bright blue eyes that she’d hardly dared stare into when she was fifteen, much less now. With a linebacker’s build, a square jaw and short blond hair, he carried his age well, probably better than Rachel. He looked at peace, far different from the worried expression Rachel saw in her own reflection.
“You look like hell. I almost didn’t recognize you,” he said finally, handing her the baseball cap. “What are you doing out here?”
Rachel put the hat back on her head. His words shouldn’t hurt, but his tone implied she had no business being at a wildland fire camp miles from civilization. Rachel looked beyond Cole to the smoke-filled horizon. Things were so much easier in the air than on the ground.
“I’m contracted with the Forest Service, working the fire just like you are.” Making good money to tide her over through the lean winter months.
He frowned, taking in her appearance from head to toe. “Hot Shot?” She wasn’t wearing the Hot Shot garb that Cole was—fire-resistant drab-green slacks and a yellow button-down.
Rachel flicked her thick ponytail over her shoulder with a laugh. “Fight fires on the ground with nothing more than a shovel or a chainsaw? I’m not that foolish. I’ll leave that to you, thank you very much.” And she should leave him standing there with the question she knew he was dying to ask—How’s Missy? But Rachel’s boots seemed to have taken root in the dirt.
The disapproving expression didn’t leave his face. After a moment Cole said, “You’re not flying air tankers, are you?”
“Yep.” Rachel squared her shoulders. She was proud of the fact that she was one of the few female tanker pilots, prouder still that she was owner of her own tanker service. She flew a PB4Y2 Privateer, an airplane that had served in at least two wars. Dumping fire retardant on forty-foot-high flames on runs reminiscent of those barnstorming fighter pilots who’d come before her was Rachel’s idea of heaven. Sometimes she couldn’t believe they paid her to do it.
Cole cursed under his breath, taking Rachel by the arm. “Look, kid—”
Kid? Rachel bristled at the word. In the back of her mind, she’d always believed that Cole would approve of what she was doing, would jump at the chance to make a run with her. She’d never imagined he’d treat her as if she were still fifteen and waiting for her first kiss. Rachel shook off his touch, even though part of her trembled with the contact.
“This isn’t a game out here. You’ve always been a risk taker, but…” Cole lowered his voice and leaned closer. “I’m sure you’ve noticed how air tankers have been dropping from the sky lately.”
He was right. A lot of the old beauties weren’t able to take the stress of diving into deep valleys and pulling up to avoid the trees on the opposite side of the basin. But Rachel had rebuilt the Privateer herself and knew that its engines could withstand tremendous stress.
“Maybe there have been a few older models that haven’t held up after fifty or more years of hard service, but my plane is different.” Rachel resisted the inclination to tell him she was one of the most respected pilot mechanics in the business, something she could thank her father for. “I know what I’m doing, Cole. Why can’t you just wish me well?” Instead of making her feel two inches high, which was how she felt anyway, because she wouldn’t tell him about Jenna. And then there was Missy… Rachel had never liked hiding the truth. Yet, that seemed to be all she did nowadays. And Cole was, in part, to blame.
Rachel looked for Danny. She couldn’t last much longer without spilling her guts or losing the facade that she was a fully functioning adult.
Unexpectedly, Cole reached out and removed her sunglasses. “What happened to your freckles?”
Rachel snatched them back and thrust them into place. “I grew out of them.” If only she’d outgrown her feelings for Cole.
“And Missy?” Cole finally asked the question she’d been dreading. “How is Missy?”
Rachel’s throat closed as she recognized the expression in Cole’s blue eyes—hope. She’d thought she’d loved this man at one time. Later, she’d realized it had been a foolish teenager’s crush. But it was clear that he was still in love with Missy, the woman he’d slept with just hours before her marriage to another man, and then left alone to face the consequences. And then there was what he’d done five years ago.
Rachel was such a sentimental fool.
“She’s dead,” Rachel managed to tell him, holding her heart together by willpower alone as she waited for Cole to say he’d wondered why Missy hadn’t shown up on his doorstep five years ago, waited for him to explain why he’d never called to see what had become of her.
Instead Cole swayed as if he might be felled by the heartbreaking news that Rachel had been living with for what seemed like an eternity.
Rachel frowned.
“I had no idea.” His gaze wandered around, from the latrines to the chow line to the trucks rumbling out of camp. Then his attention swung back to her. “When?”
Rachel tried to hide her confusion. How could Cole have forgotten? He had to have known. “Five years ago.” Although the vibrant spark that had once been Missy had been extinguished on her wedding day and none of Rachel’s efforts had rekindled that flame. “Car accident. We lost her.” Rachel’s voice sounded distant, as if someone else was speaking, someone who hadn’t known Missy and somehow failed her.
Rachel wouldn’t fail Missy now. She wouldn’t tell Cole the secrets pressing at the back of her throat, the most pressing of which was that he’d created a beautiful little girl on the eve of Missy’s wedding to Lyle.
Rachel had made her sister a promise, and she was sticking to it.
“IF YOU LOVED ME, you’d stay with me here in Eden. I can’t leave Rachel.” Missy’s voice had been filled with an aching sadness, as if she’d known her fate was sealed if Cole left her.
What had Cole done?
“Chainsaw,