Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
* * *
“Damn. How about you tell your friend in Dispatch to call us back in on account of this sun?” Bosler wiped the sweat off his forehead with a paisley bandanna. He was splitting radio duties with Rain this week, but at the moment they were all knee-deep in brambly brush, a weeklong fire prevention cleanup project.
Rain paused in his hauling of branches to consider how best to reply. The other people on his crew had picked up on his friendship with Garrick—inevitable, really, what with them riding together so much. But he couldn’t tell whether Bosler was trying to joke with him or if he was trying to make some underlying point.
“Eh. It’s not so hot,” Rain hedged. “You need a water break? I’ve got extra trail mix bars if you need one.”
“Appreciate the offer, but I’m good. Just wish they had us working in a shadier part of the forest this week. I’m still recovering from the holiday weekend. How about you young guns? Who overindulged?”
“Our prayer group did a booth at the Fourth of July festival and then a camping trip with some rock climbing.” Zeb, the earnest farmer guy who made Rain’s teeth hurt with his wholesomeness, spoke first.
“Hope you had a good time. My family came down for my grandma’s birthday. The festival was fun too—great work from all the volunteers.”
“Sounds like fun all around.” Bosler nodded as he got back to work.
Honestly, though, Rain was happy to be back at work. Too much family togetherness all weekend. Too much teasing from people who should know better, who should have his freaking back, but instead wanted to act like he was still aimless and sixteen. He was still salty at his brothers because Garrick hadn’t seemed to know what to make of their heckling, alternating between defending Rain and being a little more distant than usual.
But now his family was all back in Portland and life could get back to normal. At least everyone had seemed to like Garrick. That part had been nice, families mingling, feeling like it was a real, solid adult relationship and not some random hookup. Maybe finally his mom could believe that people other than Lark the perfect were capable of managing their own lives. God, he loved Lark, but he had a way of making Rain doubt himself, worry that maybe Garrick could do a lot better than him, worry that maybe he didn’t have what it took to hold on to something this good. Because when it was good, like on the Fourth, watching fireworks together, it was spectacular, and that was even before they reached the bedroom.
“Crew four-five-one?” The radio on his belt crackled right as Rain was in the middle of a sexy daydream about when he might next get to sleep over at Garrick’s.
“This is four-five-one.” Damn. He hoped he sounded normal. Not that Garrick might care, but with Bosler and the others looking a little closer at him, he didn’t need any extra teasing. He’d had enough of that this weekend.
“We’re pulling you in.”
A cheer erupted from the people closest to Rain, but he held up a hand to silence them.
“Yeah, hang on there. We’re not sending you home.”
“You’re not?”
“We’ve got an elevated fire risk warning with a small fire to the south of us. You’re being redirected to dig line as a precaution. Crews are en route to the fire, and we’re hopeful for quick containment, but we’re going to act accordingly and get our crews in place.”
“Understood.”
“Tell your crew chief she can contact Ryland with questions about the logistics. You all might be in for a long day.”
“Got it.”
“Good. You take care now. Tell the crew to look sharp.”
“I—we will.” The reminder to be careful might be directed mostly at Rain, but he tried to stay professional. He wanted to ask Garrick how he was getting back if Rain was out late, but he refrained. Garrick would get a ride—Ryland or his dad or another friend. Even Rain’s grandma had given him rides a couple of times. He’d be fine, but Rain still knew a pang for the early evening he’d been hoping for, the two of them and Cookie and no family members bugging them.
“Do hotshot crews spend so much time digging?” he asked some hours later as sweat ran down his muscles, every muscle screaming in protest. He swigged water along with the others who were taking a moment, but the sky was hazy with heat and smoke and they couldn’t afford too long a break. Nightfall was coming and they’d been told they’d be making the long drive back to base soon. Meanwhile, the fire command was debating whether this fire was adequately contained or whether they needed to set up a fire camp and other infrastructure needed for a longer fight.