Page 83 of Burnin' For You
Chapter 9
He’d walked away, and she hadn’t stopped him.
Reuben slammed his fist into the lockers. They shook under the power of his frustration.
“Hey, bro, take a step back.” Conner came into the room. He had a map tucked under his arm, and was holding his gear pack. He set the map on the bench, opened his locker.
“What are you doing?”
Conner glanced at him. “I’m gearing up. I figure if Gilly is flying over the crash site, I’ll jump from the Annie, connect with the team, see if I can give Pete and the guys a hand if the drop doesn’t slow the fire down. We’ll get them out on foot if we have to.”
Right.
Without a thought beyond Conner’s words, Reuben walked over, retrieved an extra jumpsuit from the surplus rack, grabbed a helmet, gloves, a letdown rope, and a chute pack, along with a fresh gear bag.
His hands shook, his entire body wanting to turn around, storm into the flight office, tell Gilly—
What? He’d already alerted the entire office to the fact that he loved her—what had possessed him to let that bit of information sneak out? He wanted to bang his head against the lockers, see if he could dislodge his stupidity.
The last thing she wanted was him stepping in to hover over her. And he knew that.
She was right—hedidunderstand what drove her, and he should have seen that standing in her way would only get one of them hurt.
Stubborn woman. Her knee probably needed surgery. He knew without a doubt that it would also fail her when she needed strength to keep the plane on course as she drove through the super-heated canyon winds.
She couldn’t hold the course, but he could. He could work the foot pedals in tandem with her, help her with the yoke.
It’s up to me to bring them home.
No, it was up tothem.He’d made promises, too.
He swallowed back a rise of nausea at just the thought of getting into a plane again—it rushed over him, and for a second he collapsed onto the bench.
“Rube, you okay? I’m not sure you should make this jump, pal. You’re looking pretty frayed. That head injury looks brutal.”
“I’m fine.”
Conner held up a hand, backed away. “Ho-kay—listen, no one would blame you if you didn’t want to go up in a plane so soon after—”
“And what would you do, Conner?” Reuben looked up at him. “Leave them to die? Let the fire run over them? I can’t let that happen again.”
Conner’s jaw tightened.
“You were there when Jock ran into the fire,” Reuben continued. “You heard them on the radio. Don’t tell me that memory doesn’t chew away at your gut all the time. Don’t tell me that you don’t wonder late at night if you did the right thing. Don’t tell me you don’t wish you could have gone back and done something—anything—differently. Stopped Jock, or maybe run after the team—”
“And died with them?” Conner’s voice cut through the torrent. “Because that’s what would have happened if we’d run back. If we hadn’t obeyed Jock and kept going, we would have been caught by the flames running uphill and died on that mountain. Do you wish you’d died with them? Is that what you’re saying?”
Reuben closed his eyes. “I just wish they hadn’t died.”
Conner blew out a breath. “We all do. But it doesn’t mean we go back, keep reliving it. Or blame ourselves. At the end of the day, we have to hold onto the fact that we can’t change the past. We have to just keep looking forward, toward hope.
Reuben winced, looked away. “I can’t do that.”
Conner slammed his locker. “Or won’t. I get it. It feels almost—well, wrong for us to not live with that pain. To move on, be forgiven, set free. But that’s now how God wants us to live. And if He’s the one offering, it seems to me we should take it.” He offered a wry smile. “Or try to, at least.”
Conner picked up his helmet, tucked it under his arm. “God’s not content to simply stand on the sidelines of our lives. But He isn’t going to force his way into our lives, either. So He waits, He works, He protects, and He never leaves us until we open our eyes to see Him saving our sorry, stubborn hides. He waits until we choose him.”
Choose him.