Wildfire and Roses Read online

  Table of Contents

  WILDFIRE AND ROSES

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  WILDFIRE AND ROSES

  HOPE MALORY

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  WILDFIRE AND ROSES

  Copyright©2018

  HOPE MALORY

  Cover Design by Anna Lena Spies

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-68291-788-6

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Acknowledgments

  A special thank you to my husband, Dave, my constant encourager, sounding board, and the first reader of my draft manuscripts.

  Thanks to my adventurous family who constantly inspire me.

  A huge thank you to my amazing editor, Debby Gilbert, founder and senior editor of Soul Mate Publishing for believing in my novel and giving it a chance.

  Thanks to Judi Mobley and Joy Smith, my critique partners, and Judy Stinson, Suzy Kaminski, and Jane May for reading and providing valuable input for improving my novels.

  My gratitude to Leanne Howard and Erin Newton for fact checks and information on rangers and the Lake Tahoe and Truckee areas, and Victoria Patterson in Maryville, TN near my fictional Azalea Valley for answering questions about landscaping in the foothills of the Smokies.

  Dedicated to the survivors of the Gatlinburg wildfires,

  who lost so much,

  and to the brave firefighters

  who worked tirelessly to save lives

  and protect our mountains.

  Chapter 1

  “When did his parents discover he was missing?”

  Beasley turned and strained to listen to the man’s conversation but shook her head and continued to gather supplies. No, she refused to volunteer this time. I have to prepare for a climb.

  To brush away the question in her mind, she focused on the scribbled list of food and essentials. Snatching a premade ham and cheese on wheat from the shelf, she tossed the sandwich in the shopping basket and struggled to catch more of the conversation over the rattle of broken wheels.

  “Dang, only seven?”

  The same age as Tyler. Her stomach flipped. The terror when her nephew wandered away and disappeared for over two hours stuck with her.

  “What were they doing there? That’s crazy, it is way too dangerous, especially if a kid is with them . . . Sure, I’ll get right on it.”

  Crap. So much for not getting involved.

  She abandoned her wounded cart and hustled toward the male voice. The middle-aged man, whose face conveyed an image of someone who seldom smiled, wore a uniform with Ranger Josh Walsh, Yosemite National Park, printed on his name badge.

  “Excuse me. I’m Beasley McLemore. I overheard your conversation about a lost child, and I want to help with the search.”

  His brow wrinkled. “I appreciate the offer, but a search and rescue in the mountains requires specialized training and extensive experience.”

  Ignoring his dismissive attitude, she said, “Sir, I am exp—”

  “Look, we’ve got it covered. We don’t send novices on rescue missions.” He turned and walked away.

  She bristled at the novice suggestion. Surely, they could use every pair of eyes on the hunt since time was critical. An old memory flooded back. As a child, while she backcountry skied with her older brothers, she zoomed out in front during a snowstorm and veered off the trail into a gully. She sat under a pine tree for two hours, remembering she should stay in one place if she was to be found. The relief was palpable when she saw her eldest brother’s face. He had doubled back and followed her tracks to the snow berm she had crawled into for shelter from the storm. She imagined the child waiting dutifully in whatever rock cubby he had found for his parents to return. Adamant not to let it go, she followed him out the door of the Yosemite Village Store. “Wait.” Beasley grasped the ranger’s arm. “I’m qualified. You need me . . . and he needs me.”

  Furrows formed between his brows. “You’re what, sixteen or seventeen? That’s too young. Sorry, I have to go.”

  With no makeup and a frizzy ponytail billowing out of a ball cap, she acknowledged she looked like a teenager. The clothes—a fitted cropped tank top, cut-off denim shorts, and Converse high-tops—didn’t help.

  “I’m twenty-four.” Frustration churned in her stomach. After repeated attempts failed, her words spilled out in rapid succession. “I’ve hiked the Appalachian, Colorado, and Pacific Crest trails. On the Colorado, I took part in a search and rescue. I am a mountain climber experienced in the backcountry and I’m here to climb El Cap. My Wilderness Emergency Medical Technician certification is current, and I grew up with four older brothers. I’m stronger than you think.” She blew out a breath and held his stare.

  The annoyance etched on his face disappeared. “You’re a determined young lady.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The ranger, with tanned skin layered in wrinkles, probably from years in the sun, fished through his backpack, drew out a set of papers, and handed them to her. “All right, read this approved list of equipment and our guidelines. Gather your gear and meet me at this spot in one hour.”

  “But I need to buy supplies, change, and pack, and I walked here from Camp 4.”

  “One hour,” he repeated. “Plan for an overnight in case. You’ll be on my team, but if you can’t keep up, find your own way back. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be here on time.”

 
; Organized and accustomed to working under deadlines, she scanned the list and marked the critical items. After rushing through the store gathering food and supplies, she paid for the purchases and jogged down Northside Drive to her vehicle. She had parked the blue Jeep in the lot adjacent to Camp 4 Campground, a legendary hangout for rock climbers.

  A risk-taker, she took calculated chances, but not the daredevil kind. She climbed mountains, hiked long distances, kayaked, and built a business. While she pushed the limits, she always had a plan. Never a Girl Scout, she, however, lived by the same motto: Be Prepared.

  She repacked in a few minutes. After a family left their site, she rushed to check in and hauled her gear up the hill to claim the spot. No time to pitch the tent or chat with neighboring campers. Instead, she waved to them and moved on.

  After she located the bear-proof lockers, she stuffed her food into one before she jogged to the bathroom. Once inside, she changed into an olive shirt worn over a white ribbed camisole, Danner Mountain hiking boots, and khaki cargo shorts. After collecting the rest of the mandatory gear, she grabbed the sandwich she had bought in the village. She shouldered her backpack and ate the ham and cheese as she sprinted to the rendezvous point while getting a glimpse of the rock face she intended to scale.

  Her favorite location to climb was near her home in Azalea Valley, Tennessee. The Smokies were her mountains, and she loved their quiet, gentle beauty. But she also enjoyed climbing in Yosemite, with its glaciers, spectacular exposed views, tall waterfalls, and sequoias.

  The entire process took fifty-six minutes. “Here I am.”

  Walsh checked his wristwatch. The corners of his mouth curved up a fraction. He glanced at her well-worn Gregory Mountain backpack, adorned with half a dozen patches from various parks and trails.

  “Yes, I figured that out.”

  He said something else, but the profile of a guy who paced and talked on his cell distracted her. Mmm, nice body. When he shifted and she saw his face, she gasped. The man about her age bore a striking resemblance to Tom Brady, her favorite football quarterback.

  She tried to concentrate on what the ranger said, but her eyes kept veering toward the hunk on the phone. He appeared to be arguing with someone.

  Focus, Beasley.

  “. . . and we’ll head out as soon as our third team member gets here.”

  She set her backpack on the sidewalk for the wait and reread the guidelines. The Tom Brady double stepped up beside them. Her heart pumped hard against her chest, and her sprint didn’t cause it. She caught herself staring. Something seemed different about the way he held himself. Was he confident, or was he arrogant?

  “Beasley McLemore, this is Will Gregor.”

  “This might be interesting,” she said under her breath and gazed into his sky-blue eyes hoping she wouldn’t give away what churned inside her body.

  “Hello, Will.”

  She didn’t miss the skeptical expression on his face before he nodded and turned to pick up his gear. He didn’t even respond. Crap. This wouldn’t be the first time she had encountered a guy who didn’t think she could handle herself in the woods.

  “Are you worried I won’t keep up?”

  “There’s more to this than keeping up,” he answered in a brusque tone.

  Arrogant.

  Ranger Walsh continued, “A seven-year-old boy wandered away from his parents. Cole has blond hair and blue eyes and was wearing jeans, a navy Dallas Cowboys hoodie, and white Nikes. Searchers often find missing persons close by within a short time, but the urgency is greater when it involves a child. We’ll check the obvious places first like the trails and shelters, then we’ll hit any nearby meadows and creek beds. Soon after his mom and dad reported his disappearance, officials at the command post dispatched a team to do a quick scan of the immediate vicinity. At least two other ground crews are out now with maps and detailed coordinates for the search zone. One group is out conducting a more thorough search of a quarter-mile radius around the point last seen. The incident commander instructed us to start on the Yosemite Falls Trail next to Camp 4.”

  Her head jerked up. “But I just came from Camp 4. I could have met you.”

  “I needed to find out if you can follow instructions,” he said, making it clear he was in charge. After pausing for several seconds, he continued his directions. “The trail has a lot of switchbacks and steep drop-offs. Don’t veer off the path. Stay together and keep up.”

  Doubt registered on Will’s face, and he hesitated. He still isn’t sure they should take me along. In a deliberate attempt to provoke him, she whispered, “Don’t stand around and look pretty. Let’s go.”

  Will scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Instead of saying anything, he ignored her and marched ahead to talk to the ranger.

  She hated for anyone to ignore her, one of her pet peeves. Will may look like Tom Brady, but that is all he has going for him. The man was not worth getting upset over, and she concentrated on finding the little boy who must be terrified by now.

  ~ ~ ~

  Will wasn’t happy about teaming up with this woman. What an attitude. Not in the best of moods, he had been abrupt with her. Why did his ex-girlfriend choose that time, right before they left, to call and argue and then hang up on him? He didn’t need anything to distract him from concentrating on their mission.

  This was too important. His priority was to find this child. In his line of work, he had seen too many people die. The memory of a casualty on a smoke jump last year still haunted him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t rid his senses of the panic marked faces of a family engulfed in flames, their tormented screams, or the stench of burning flesh. He and his team had worked forty-eight hours straight to extinguish the wildfire. Dry conditions and wind caused it to spread toward a cabin built in a remote section of the mountains. The reporters called them heroes since they stopped the fire before flames reached any other homes, but he didn’t feel like one.

  Now he had a chance to save a young boy and whatever he needed to do, he would do it. His teammate’s ego would not hamper their progress.

  ~ ~ ~

  As they approached the trailhead, Ranger Walsh turned to her and Will. “The family stopped at the Lower Yosemite Falls shuttle stop 6 and walked toward Valley Loop Trail. They veered off the marked path where the views are impressive but there are steep drop-offs. It isn’t a place you want to take a kid. We will head west on the bicycle path to the Valley Loop Trail. The route, made up of mixed surfaces: dirt, rocks, sand, and old pavement, is risky. Check for footprints, clothing, a toy, or anything that might lead us to him. His parents gave us one of his shirts for the search and rescue dogs to smell. As soon as the team arrives, they will start searching.”

  On her last visit, Beasley had hiked those trails, and she visualized the place where the family stopped. They began their journey at the same deafening waterfalls of the Lower Yosemite as the cascading torrents of water crashed over sheer rock walls, descending 320 feet to spray tourists on the footbridge at the base. Beautiful area, but she agreed—a child didn’t belong there.

  The trio hiked into the forest in their assigned region, shouting Cole’s name. Beasley scanned the immediate vicinity for evidence and scoured the woods surrounding them while listening for the child. So far, no sign of a struggle. Trails crisscrossed through the trees. To a kid, everything would likely appear the same. No wonder he got lost. Soon, the climb took them above the tree line to an exposed plateau. The ranger stopped at a bend in the trail and studied the surroundings. “While the parents took pictures, the boy either wandered away or. . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence, but she imagined what he thought. “With only a few hours of daylight left, let’s be thorough and cover as much territory as we can.”

  A breeze ruffled the leaves of a towering California black oak. Because of her
background in forestry and landscaping, she recognized the genus of trees along the trail: ponderosa pine, incense cedar, and white fir. A deer grazing in a nearby field glanced toward them and snorted. Her attention elsewhere, she almost stumbled on a limb crossing the walkway.

  Well, my clumsiness just reinforced Will’s assumption I don’t know what I’m doing. She had hiked thousands of miles in backcountry over much rougher terrain, and she tripped over a small branch of all things.

  “Are you okay?”

  Is he concerned? No, most likely making fun of me.

  Seconds later, he added, “How did you miss that?”

  Yep, making fun. Turning to face him, she vocalized her thoughts. “You’re a real jerk.”

  He scowled and scrutinized the dark clouds before commenting. “If it rains, be careful of wet rocks. You might slip and break a nail.”

  Her cheeks heated. “No need to worry about me. Don’t let your ego keep you from asking for help if you fall on your rear.”

  Nearby, Walsh cleared his throat and cast an annoyed glance in their direction. “Come on, children, let’s go.”

  Will glowered and marched on, waving a hand dismissively. The fact he almost caused her to lose focus irritated her more than his attitude. After taking one last glimpse of the towering cliffs, she and the men trudged deeper into the rugged wilderness. A hawk flew above them. The ranger’s radio squawked, “Yosemite, we have a bear sighting near Columbia Rock.”

  “Columbia Rock is part of the POA,” Walsh replied. “Let’s go a different route since they sent an SAR team up there.”

  “POA means ‘probability of area,’ and SAR stands for ‘search and rescue.’”

  Assuming Will was being condescending, she responded, “I understand the acronyms. Listen, I get that you believe I don’t belong in the woods, but I’m more experienced than you might think. Cut me some slack here, I can pull my own weight.”