LITMIR.BIZ

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that was the problem. Maybe he hadn’t seen anything, just imagined it.

      He climbed into the center of the old tree and leaned back on the thickest limb.

      If it hadn’t been for his fire, he might have just become a forest ranger full-time.

      They should’ve asked for advice about that. He had better words there.

      He tilted his head back to gaze through the canopy to the patches of twilight sky. He should’ve kept the radio on him to keep tabs on the fire and his team.

      Before he’d had the chance to fully relax, the sound of someone running far too fast over the packed earth had him tensing. He didn’t even need to look to know who it was. She’d run hard to catch up with him, fast enough that she’d have probably caught him even if he hadn’t taken a seat.

      She skidded to a halt, the sound pulling his gaze from the sky in time to see her toe catch on a root, and she stumbled.

      Without thought, he leaped from the tree, hands shooting out to make a grab for her, but she was just out of reach as she took several large, barely controlled steps forward, and managed to keep from hitting the dirt anyway.

      “Okay?” he asked, still covering the distance and giving her a hand to ground her as she recovered her balance.

      The touch of her hand sent a surge of lust and heat down his spine that had every muscle tensing.

      She froze in place, her eyes wide and locked to his where they stood, facing each other, one hand held between them as if they’d gone to shake hands and had forgotten step two.

      Even in the low, fading light, he was once again struck by the color of her eyes. Vibrant, and familiar somehow.

      “Fine,” she answered, finally looking down to where their hands joined. He followed her gaze, and saw his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand.

      Immediately, he let go, and stepped back, mentally scrambling through a very short list of appropriate things to do or say after doing something so creepy.

      She beat him to it. “Not running?”

      Still winded, her speech—short as it was—came out broken with her need for oxygen, or maybe with something else. The same words he’d said to her when trying to get rid of her earlier.

      She stepped into a shaft of fading light shining through the trees, a brighter spot in a darkened forest, and he could see how flushed she’d grown from the hard, uneven run.

      Pretty. Damn, she was appealing in a way he hadn’t remembered.

      “I’ll do two more laps when I get done here.”

      “Getting late.”

      “I’ve run this trail in the dark.”

      She put her hands on her knees, and her breathing got a little slower, more even, but she still had a wariness about her as she watched him. “This year?”

      She had a point, as much as he’d prefer to pretend otherwise. But if he ran with her, this would definitely turn into a competition.

      “You know this isn’t a race.”

      “I know.”

      “But you were running like it was.”

      “I was running to catch up, not to win.”

      Bull. He turned and began jogging down the path again, letting her once again catch up, which she quickly did.

      “Why are you rolling your eyes at me?”

      “I gave you the advice you need to hear—this isn’t a race. Neither is it when you’re out in the thick of it. Staying longest, fighting hardest, that’s important. Not getting there fastest.”

      “I know that, I’ve been a firefighter for six years and I was raised by firefighters. Generations of them, actually. I’m not stupid.” She kept up with him, but if he’d wanted to pick a way to make her stop with the optimism, he’d apparently picked well, judging by her tone.

      “But you’re still acting like this is a competition you’re in. Work on improving yourself, not impressing everyone else.”

      He shouldn’t have taken a seat tonight. He should’ve waited until tomorrow, or come back after the run was finished. He’d been wanting to wipe his mind clean, not think about her sun-kissed skin and brilliant green eyes. With his eyes on the trail before him, he suddenly had the strong mental image of a glossy, bright green stone with deep, evergreen bands.

      His mother’s pendant.

      And the same stone as the polished orbs she’d meditated with. Also the polished and raw pieces of gem she’d kept tucked into nooks all over their cottage.

      Malachite, the word swam up from somewhere. Healing stone.

      “Are you being contrary because you’re worried about your crew being out?”

      God help him, if this was how the conversation was going to go, he’d be better off trying to lose her. He didn’t answer.

      “I’m going to take silence for a yes.”

      “I’m sure they’re fine.” He was the one in danger of resetting the safety record most recently, not that she needed to know that.

      “But it must be hard to be stuck here with the rookies when they’re out there.”

      She was going to ask. He could feel it. And once he gave her a scrap of that information, she’d keep pressing until she got more. Until she forced the conversation he hadn’t even wanted to have with Treadwell.

      As much to stave it off as to just get the task complete, he picked up speed. A vigorous run was never good for deep conversation.

      She kept up.

      He glanced to the side and found her facing forward, eyes on the path. At least there was that.

      She didn’t ask again, but the cadence of sneakers on compact earth began to sound too loud, too heavy.

      “We’re careful. Haven’t lost anyone in a long time.” He spoke truth, words that’d probably comfort her, even if she should be afraid of the fire. Everyone should be afraid before they leaped in. “But I should be there.”

      “Fires come earlier every year. There was always a chance the call could come while you were at camp.”

      “So?”

      “So, you can’t do everything.”

      He snorted.

      “What?”

      “Funny, coming from someone who wants to be the best at everything.”

      She didn’t say anything to him then, but he could hear her muttering under her breath. When he looked over, he saw her shaking her head and staring ahead like she could happily murder him.

      “What?”

      “You don’t get it. I have to be the best.” The words came out and she piled on speed, borrowing his tactic.

      She didn’t get to drop that and run away.

      “That’s crap,” he said when he pulled level again, although the more they argued, the harder the run became. “There aren’t tons of women in the service, but there are some and they’re treated the same.”

      She didn’t slow down, kept up the speed even when she had to leap roots twisting over the path. “Have you asked them that?”

      “Asked them what?”

      “If your perception matches their experience.”

      He stopped running. Did that mean something had happened to her?

      She slid to a more graceful stop and looked back at him. “We’re not supposed to keep taking these

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