“Got it.”
“You folks be careful.”
Hefting his pack, Buzz slipped it over his shoulders and started toward the darkened trail. Kelly had to trot to keep up with his long stride.
“I don’t have a pack,” she said.
“I’ve got everything we need in mine.”
“I didn’t know you had a whistle,” she said. “That’s a good idea. I wish I’d thought of it.”
“I do this for a living now, remember?”
She didn’t answer, but Buzz knew what she was thinking. The way he made his living had been another point of contention between them—they’d had a lot of those when they’d been married. Early in their relationship, the love between them had been so strong it didn’t matter that he was a cop and spent his days wrestling with armed criminals who wouldn’t think twice about capping a cop. But the dangers of his job had taken a heavy toll on their marriage.
After the shooting, Kelly had made it clear she could no longer take the pressures of being a cop’s wife. With a bullet lodged mere millimeters from his spinal cord, Buzz hadn’t been able to go back to active duty. The department had offered him a desk job, but the position held little appeal. Kelly had wanted him to take the corporate security job that had been offered to him by an established firm out of Denver. But the thought of sitting behind a desk all day, devising ways to keep employees from stealing pencils was about as exciting as his own funeral. When the team-leader position with Rocky Mountain Search and Rescue had become available, Buzz had jumped at the opportunity. That had been the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.
Buzz had never fully understood why she hadn’t been able to accept his need to be on the front line. He suspected her father had a lot to do with it. Buzz had never met Jack McKee, but the man was a legend. He’d been a smoke jumper back in the early 1980s. A breed of man who lived for the rush and the heady taste of danger that came with putting his life on the line. They’d called him Jumpin’ Jack Flash back then. He’d been the best of the best. Courageous. Daring. Kelly would have been about fifteen when he’d died. Buzz didn’t know the details, but he’d heard that McKee’s chopper went down on the front line of a forest fire. Her brother had been on board too. Both men had perished.
Knowing what he did about her father and brother, Buzz figured Kelly deserved a man who didn’t like gambling with fate. The worry and sleepless nights had torn her apart during their marriage. When she’d asked for a divorce, he hadn’t contested it. He’d let her go, first, because he couldn’t stand to hurt her, second, simply because she’d wanted to go. She wanted him to change, but Buzz hadn’t been able to stop being who he was no matter how much he loved her.
He’d moved on with his life, but there had been no other women. No woman would ever come close to touching him the way Kelly had. Buzz knew no other woman ever would.
Even frightened and disheveled with a cut on her temple and pain in her heart, Kelly was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. That was a hell of a thing for him to be noticing at a time like this.
No, it wasn’t a comforting thought at all to realize that the divorce hadn’t diminished his attraction to her. They might be compatible when it came to the bedroom, but all compatibility ended there. Sex was the only facet of their marriage that they’d agreed upon unequivocally. It hadn’t been enough.
With a long night stretching out ahead of them, Buzz figured he would be wise to keep that in mind.
Chapter 3
“T his way.”
The sound of Kelly’s voice jerked him from his reverie. Buzz’s flashlight illuminated a fork in the trail. Kelly motioned left. “How far are we from where you fell?” he asked.
“Maybe another quarter mile or so.”
“This was a long hike for a young kid.”
“He’s a bundle of energy, Buzz. I know him. I know his physical capabilities, and I know what he likes. He’s always been fascinated by the outdoors. Trails. Camping. Animal tracks. Even flowers. We were having so much fun, I just didn’t realize how….” Her voice trailed off.
Buzz practically felt the rise of guilt. “I didn’t mean to imply that this is your fault, Kel.”
“I know. I just…if I’d just used my head, none of this would have happened.”
“You know what they say about hindsight being twenty-twenty.”
She shot him a grateful look. “Yeah.”
They walked in silence for a while, the only sound coming from their feet on the trail and heavy breathing. “Do you know the tread pattern on his sneakers?” Buzz asked.
“The deputy said the tracks had been—”
“You never know when you might get lucky.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Small circles with an arrow pointing toward the toe.”
“That ought to be easy enough to spot.”