Page 20 of Some Like It Hot

Sinking into one of her Adirondack chairs, she leaned her head back and set the coffee on a thick arm.

She could have saved him. The thought clung to her like a burr, dug deeper every time she survived another dream-slash-memory. She could have saved Freeman.

If she’d known he was hurt, she could have tried to stop the bleeding, called for an evac, maybe saved his life.

Instead, he’d bled out, his arms around her. Protecting her.

She hated that she’d needed protecting.

Hated that even two nights ago, she’d let herself sink into Riley’s arms as if she were that girl.

Okay, sometimes she was.

And that’s what she hated the most. That she couldn’t be stronger. That after everything, her brothers were right.

She wasn’t as tough as she thought. As she wanted to be.

As sheshouldbe.

Boots sounded on the path, kicking rock. She opened her eyes and spied her father, cap on, wearing his jacket, dressed for flying, and heading toward her, a grim expression on his face.

She sat up, then grabbed her coffee and walked to the edge of her porch.

He wore his jaw hard, his eyes steely. “There’s a problem on the line.”

She braced her hand on a pillar. “What?”

He put a foot on her step. “The team brought in a hand crew from the Copper County Correctional Facility, and evidently this morning, a number of the prisoners took off.”

She stilled, not sure how to assimilate that information. “What—I don’t understand. Prisoners?”

“Apparently the fire was bigger than the team thought, and the smokejumpers needed reinforcements. Remember that team I brought in yesterday? Prisoners.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“I don’t know. The team has a US marshal with them, and she called in for backup. There are marshals headed here from Anchorage—I’ll fly them in as soon as they get here. You have fresh coffee?”

She nodded and followed him into the house. He walked over to the pot and poured himself a steaming cup. Then he leaned a hip against the granite countertop. “They took one of the smokejumpers hostage.”

She stilled, her entire body hollowing. “Who?”

“Skye. The girl.”

She shouldn’t feel relief—she knew it—but she put her cup on the island and braced both hands on the cool surface. Drew in a breath. “Okay. So, what can we do?”

“Nothing. Just bring the marshals in. But…that’s not all.”

It was his pause that turned her cold.

“What?”

He took a breath.

“Dad.”

“There was an accident. One of the smokejumpers is hurt.”

“How bad?”