Where There's Smoke: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 1) by Susan May Warren Page A

cool, damp earth. “We’re going to live.”
    Live. Yes. He threw out the coffee then struggled to the edge of the river, dipped his hand in and washed water over his face. Got on his knees and took both hands now, pulling off his helmet, his bandanna, wetting it and scrubbing away the grime, the black.
    The heat.
    He wrapped the bandanna around his neck and let the icy water trickle down his spine. Then he sat back on his haunches, lifted his eyes to the sky.
    Breathe. Just breathe, Jed.
    “You okay, bro?”
    He looked up to find Conner behind him, wearing a look of concern.
    Jed managed a wry smile. Shook his head, then rewrapped the wet bandanna around his grimy head. “I’m just thankful every time a fire goes our way.”
    “True, that,” Conner said. “Fire’s about the most unpredictable thing out there—one minute you think you have it licked, the next you’re running for your life.”
    From across camp, Jed heard a muffled groan, maybe one of the guys turning in his sleep.
    “Not unlike falling in love with a woman,” Conner continued. “One minute you think you’re headed toward a happy ending, the next you’re wondering what you said.”
    Jed glanced at Conner. The man had his hands in his pockets, staring away from him, as if thinking.
    “I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”
    “Not anymore,” Conner said, then pursed his lips and shook his head. “It’s just that sometimes it doesn’t matter what we do. Life—like fire—isn’t in our control, and all we can do is show up, armed with our best tools, and take it head on, trust that it’ll go the right direction.”
    For all the time Conner had fought with him on the Jude County crew, Jed had never quite gotten to the bottom of Conner’s story. Half computer nerd, half soldier, Conner looked like a surfer in a hockey player’s body. Shoulder-length blond hair, parted seventies-style in the middle, with the aura that he could handle himself, Conner had been the one guy who seemingly hadn’t fallen apart after the tragedy. He spent most of his off time tinkering on inventions in his trailer. Or playing Wii Golf with Reuben.
    Now Conner turned to Jed. “That’s what we call faith.”
    More moaning from across the camp, and Jed identified it as coming from Kate’s tent. He hadn’t hurt her today, had he? Although after today’s workout, no doubt every bone in her body ached.
    “I know all about faith, Conner,” Jed said quietly. “My dad had faith—or his version of it. He called it gambler’s luck and whipped it out every time he decided to bet his weekly pay, our truck, or even our house on some poker game.” He met Conner’s eyes. “You know what faith got him? His wife dead from pneumonia because he couldn’t pay the gas company, buy food, or her medicine. Him, a drunken, grief-filled couple of years that ended up with him robbing a liquor store for about forty bucks. Me and my brother shipped off to live with my uncle while my dad did his stint in Dawson County Correctional.”
    “That’s not the faith I’m talking about. That’s faith in yourself—and that kind of faith is always going to let you down. No matter how hard you try, eventually you’re going to fail yourself. You can’t get it right all the time.”
    Yes, yes he could.
    But Conner apparently wasn’t stopping. “And that’s the point. We’re always going to be overwhelmed, disheartened by our own stupidity, even afraid. Faith, however, says, don’t panic . God—the One who loves you—has your back. He already knows what you need and wants to provide it.”
    Jed didn’t know exactly how to refute Conner—the words settled on him, hot on his skin. “You sound like Jock, always preaching. But look where faith got him. Listen, I’m not against God, it’s just that I’ve got this. I’ll figure it out.”
    Conner nodded, not really a smile, but no condescension either. “I’m sure you will, bro.”
    The moaning intensified and, even as Jed