Read Where There's Smoke: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 1) for Free Online

years, he bore the handsome, rangy looks of his cousin, with the dark brown eyes and dark brown curly hair. Of the other two, one wore his dark-as-night hair long, curly, pulled back in a knot and bore the look of someone who knew his way around trouble. Tucker Newman, also from Minnesota, if she remembered the list correctly.
    “The tough one—he looks like a snowboarder filling in for the off-season,” Reuben said. “The other—CJ—he’s Montana ranch boy all the way.”
    CJ ate his fries, eyes down, wearing a Stetson, his dark blond hair hinting out from the back. His black T-shirt bunched around his biceps, either a bruise or a tattoo peeking out on the upper arm. Yeah, he had rodeo written all over him.
    “His uncle Rafe used to ride bulls professionally,” Reuben added, eyeing the bull’s-eye before letting a dart fly.
    Gilly Priest came sauntering into the bar and slid on a stool. Their pilot had shed her usual aviator shades and JCWF hat in favor of a black tank and a pair of jeans. Petite and tough, Gilly considered herself part of the team—and rightly so. Enough to keep a cool distance from the guys during her off-hours. Kate noticed, however, Reuben’s eyes trail over her a moment longer than he might for, say, Pete.
    Oh, Reuben. Kate longed to warn him off. Gilly, too, had grown up in Ember and knew better than to fall for smokejumpers. Especially the brooding tough guys who had a story behind their devastating blue eyes.
    “I think ‘Bambi’ over there is going to fall asleep in her hamburger,” Gilly said.
    Kate followed Gilly’s gesture to one of the few female recruits, curvy, but with enough muscle on her to survive. Maybe. ‘Bambi’s’ head rested on her hand, eyes closed, her other hand wrapped around her half-eaten bison burger. Dressed in clean green pants and a T-shirt, her brown hair pulled back in a braid, the girl looked as if she’d just trekked in after a ten-mile hike with a full pack.
    “That’s Hannah Butcher,” Kate said.
    “Oh, right,” Gilly said. “Her sister was married to Nutter.”
    A moment of silence while everyone settled into comprehension. A local girl picking up the family mantle.
    “I remember being that exhausted after my first week in rookie training.” Kate said, taking another sip of her malt.
    “I dunno,” Pete said, leaning against the bar. “Jed’s training them like a man possessed. Two workouts every day, spot tests on the classroom lessons, and I swear they’ve run to the border and back. Today they did their first ninety-minute march, full packs. Three bailed after an hour. I don’t know how the rest did—I couldn’t watch.”
    She could. In fact, after she’d finished her own workout, showered, and taken a quick stop at Overhead to check out the conditions, she’d driven up to her father’s old Airstream camper, located on a bluff overlooking the fire camp, to watch the fun.
    “Five more dropped out by the end,” she said. “And Jed’s not giving second chances.”
    “Ouch,” Reuben said from his position by the dartboard. “At this rate, we’ll have a skeleton crew.”
    Exactly. Kate knew the brutal pain of lugging one hundred pounds for three miles and didn’t envy the trainees, especially in the extraordinary ninety-degree heat that turned their Montana base into a fry pan.
    But she might have doused them with cold water, shoved them into the truck, and given them a second chance instead of handing them their walking papers. If she remembered right, she hadn’t made that first march either.
    “I can’t believe bruiser over there didn’t make it,” Conner said, gesturing to a large dark-haired bull of a man in the corner. “He’s a sawyer for the Redding Shots, name’s Gary.” The big man sat alone at a table in the corner, silent, nursing a brew, another glass empty, his chili fries mostly uneaten. He stared vacantly out the window, as if stunned.
    Well, Jed did that to a person. Left their head spinning and