Page 35 of Unexpected

Blake already liked the outdoors. He was nice, sweet, and sexy too, but he hadn’t asked for my phone number and he hadn’t offered his on his way out either. “I still like you,” I whispered.

I had a heavy chore planned for the day and decided to eat a big breakfast. Removing underbrush near the tower was key for survival in case of a wildfire, and because I preferred living, I kept dry brush as far away from the base as possible in the dry season. Fire towers normally sat on the highest peak and in large cleared areas, so part of the job was keeping it that way.

The sizzle of bacon and the amazing smell drifting from the greasy pan caused a major rumble through my tummy. Reaching into the fridge I withdrew eggs and butter for the toast. An entire package of bacon, six eggs, and who knew how many pieces of toast, would fortify me for the hours-long task ahead. I sat peacefully enjoying my morning meal, already wondering what I’d make for dinner, when I glanced out the window and noticed smoke.

“Shit!” I hollered, jumping to my feet and running for the binoculars and the deck, stubbing my little toe on the corner of the table leg. “Fuck! Shit!” I hissed, hopping on one foot as I made my way to the door.

White smoke billowed in the distance about a quarter of a mile away. It had to be a natural fire since I’d received no advance warning of a controlled burn or any other crew members visiting the mountain.

I hurriedly put on coveralls and rubber boots, grabbing a gas mask on the way out the door. Picks, axes, and shovels were at the bottom of the stairs and I’d grab those once on the ground. Taking the stairs two at a time had me back on the dirt in a flash. The view at ground level was more difficult when it came to tracking the smoke but I’d remembered the general direction and took off running.

Once closer I smelled the acrid scent of wet wood burning from a short distance ahead. Damp wood burnt and smelled differently. A fire was a fire though, and any wood had the potential to explode into a serious threat if not extinguished. I ran as fast as I could to a small bluff just before an opening in the canopy and spotted the funnel of smoke as it rose into the air, and then immediately halted.

“What the fuck?” I mouthed.

A heavy cast-iron pot sat over a smoldering campfire with an expensive looking tent only feet from the fire. A backpack leaned against the entry to the tent, resting against a metal support pole. There were no camping permits issued for the Fourth of July weekend in my zone according to that week’s log report. I hated dealing with assholes that took it upon themselves to hike onto private forest land.

“Hello?” I hollered from the bluff. There was no response. “Hello?” I yelled louder. “Anybody there?”

No movement from within so I scanned the surrounding area as I walked down from the bluff. I needed to extinguish the fire immediately and then deal with the trespasser after. The campsite was quiet so I assumed the occupant, or occupants, had left for a hike, but leaving a smoldering fire was unacceptable in a forest. I was incensed and thought it a good thing no one was here.

“Fucking idiots,” I muttered as I kicked wet earth toward the smoldering excuse of a fire. I heard a zipper behind me and jumped out of my skin, my hand on my pistol.

“Took you long enough, Cadet.” A very healthy looking Blake Jensen stepped out of the tent.

“You came back?” I shyly asked, stunned to see the man I’d thought of every day since he’d left.

Blake nodded quietly. “Of course, I came back, Cadet. I had to see you again,” he said, reaching for my hand and pulling himself into me. He nuzzled his face into my neck before pulling back. I met his lips with mine and we kissed like ending the connection would end our lives.

After several passionate moments we separated and gazed intently at each other, both of us probably wondering what came next. “Plus, I brought your sweatshirt back,” he teased, gesturing toward his tent.

The smile on my face could probably be seen from space. “Your friends hated it, right?” I asked, grinning like an idiot.

“Yep. But they insisted I return it to the man who forced me to wear the damn thing in the first place.”

“They did, huh? What kind of asshole friends are they?”

“Just the kind that insisted I take a chance,” he said, a tear sliding down the side of his nose. “You know the type. The kind you hate at first sight. Bossy fuckers and such.”

“How long is your camping permit good for?” I asked.

“What permit?” he joked, grabbing one of the suspenders on my coveralls and cozying up again. “I guess that depends on how long you’re gonna be out here?” he countered.

That was the beginning. A beginning that started after an ending, but who was I to question opportunities? I was just a boring outdoorsy guy.

THE END