someone who’d respect a guy who dealt with her fairly. Nice girls played fair, didn’t they? If only Spider could forget a few details, like Vegas, or that Becca hadn’t told him about the baby.
Spider put on his best trustworthy smile. “I think you ladies have been doing a great job. It’s not your fault that this fire changes its mind as often as a woman changes her hair color. So, let’s get to work. I’m here to help in whatever way you need me to.”
Becca’s expression turned stony, the woman knew how to give a visual put-down, and even her assistant looked at Spider as if he’d stripped down to a dirty pair of Skivvies. Again, he felt useless.
“And just what do you expect to do to help us? Choose a new hair color?” Becca’s stare might have daunted a lesser man, but Spider was used to rebounding from adversity.
Fighting the feeling that he was failing, he kept his smile in place. A good joke always diffused the tension. “I’m more qualified to choose nail color, but we can talk about that later. Don’t you want to ask me about my opinion and experiences on this fire?”
“No.” Becca moved over to a desk and began sorting a stack of paper, probably one that didn’t need sorting.
“No?” Socrates was going to have Spider’s hide if she refused his help. His smile faltered. Who was she to say he couldn’t help her—either with that kid or strategizing about the fire?
“No,” Becca reaffirmed. “We’ve heard all you’ve got to say. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to finalize our fire predictions before we meet the meteorologist.”
She was dismissing him? No way.
Becca glanced up, one eyebrow raised beneath that bandage, her unspoken question was clearly Why are you still here?
He’d heard it said that there was just so much a man could take before he threw in the towel.
A glutton for punishment, Spider wasn’t even close to that point. He had a purpose here in camp, and the sooner he accomplished it, the sooner he’d be back where he belonged.
“Maybe if I hang around awhile, I’ll have a few questions.” With a smile that now felt like a grimace, he sat down on Becca’s chair, propped his aching dogs up on the milk crate as she’d done and let Becca know that he wasn’t about to be pushed aside like an errand boy.
“I SUPPOSE THE WINDS will blow it somewhere around here,” Julia observed, pointing to an area at the southern tip of the fire on the map.
“Yes, it’s nearly at the head of this west-facing ridge. It could head anywhere and everywhere.” Becca tried hard to ignore Aiden—hard to do under normal circumstances, but harder still when he was reclining in her space. If he said anything to give away her secret, she’d…she’d… Well, she’d make him sorry. If it got back to Boise that he’d fathered her child, her chances at the management job would be ruined. Men could sleep around with younger women, but Becca was certain that the conservative NIFC wouldn’t accept the reverse. Oh, if NIFC found out, they’d come up with some legitimate excuse for not offering Becca the job, but she’d know the real reason.
“What do you think the fire will do, Julia?” Becca asked
Julia shrugged and Becca wanted to strangle her. The baby bopped her belly, as if advising her to be patient. To keepherself from answering for Julia or cracking under the pressure of anticipation that Aiden would expose her, Becca took a swig of water. Then another.
“I suppose…with these winds…it would head south faster.” There was the slightest hint of interest in her voice, almost as if Julia were afraid to show it.
“Good,” Becca encouraged. “Why?”
“The southern exposure from the sun will have dried the forest out more than on the northern side. Winds blowing in from the west would push a fire quicker, possibly creating a crown fire on the drier face of the ridge.” The words spilled out of Julia quicker toward the end of her speech, and then Julia
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