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more out of the Hot Shots as they’d escorted her back to camp than Carl was getting from them now. The airflow had come from above them, although some had felt light breezes from the direction of the creek. Almost without warning, the winds had come from over the mountain, driving the fire down on top of them like one big blanket of flame.
    Becca shivered, despite the oppressive mountain heat. They’d been lucky to have Jackson Garrett as their leader. The Hot Shots nicknamed him Golden because of his knack for reading fire situations before they became deadly. According to Golden, he’d felt the pressure change and the winds stir around him, and watched the flames leap up then retreat in an area above them. He’d given the order to pull back just as the fire had roared to life at their backs.
    Becca saw some of the Incident Command team grouping down by the chow line. She’d still have time to check the weather satellite one more time and start a draft of her report on what had happened to Silver Bend before the briefing.
    “Excuse me.”
    Becca’s shoulders tensed. There was still plenty to do andby now the rest of Incident Command would have heard of her accident, so she had to prove that the pregnant Fire Behavior Analyst was as tough as any man. A bump on her noggin? Wouldn’t slow Becca down. But the interruption came from someone she couldn’t easily ignore.
    Becca turned around to see what the female Hot Shot wanted.
    “What you did back there in Medical was…great. You made taking control look so simple.” The Hot Shot shifted her feet and jiggled her fire helmet with one hand as if she were nervous. “My name is Victoria… The Queen.” Self-consciously, she touched her red hair. “Would you like to have some dinner? I could use the company.”
    There was an informal sisterhood in the fire community. Women helped each other with moral support, advice and a safe place to vent. But the Hot Shot’s timing was off. Becca’s job was calling, her credibility at stake. If she wanted that promotion in Boise, she had to perform above excellent, above what a man could do.
    Becca opened her mouth to refuse, to suggest they catch a cup of coffee in the morning, but then she caught Aiden’s disapproving stare as he came out of the Medical tent. His attention seemed to be aimed at both Becca and the Hot Shot with her, which pushed Becca’s nurturing instincts into over-drive. He clearly disapproved of Victoria, who might have approached Becca to talk about how to deal with Aiden.
    Becca sighed. Her conscience wouldn’t let her leave this until later. Besides, her stomach growled again; the baby needed to be fed.
    “Can we make it quick? I still have plenty to do before the IC team meets to set up their plan of attack.”
    “I appreciate it. I need to stand in line for the shower anyway.” The Hot Shot ran a hand over her hair. At some point, it had been in an intricate French braid. Now red hair hung in limp strands around her dirt-streaked face.
    The last glimpse Becca had of Aiden was of his frowning countenance as they made their way to the chow line.
    The sight made her smile.

    “Y OU COMING TO EAT , Roadhouse?” Bart asked as he wiped his face with a worn blue bandana and made to follow the rest of the Montana #5 ground crew into the chow line.
    “In a minute.” Roadhouse wanted to make sure his son, Aiden, was okay. He’d heard about the Silver Bend crew’s close call on the mountain. He’d even heard there were no severe injuries. But that didn’t stop him from worrying, or ignoring his empty belly and walking on stiff knees through camp looking for his son.
    Roadhouse was on a private fire crew—second-class citizens to the likes of Aiden on their Department of Forestry firefighting teams, even though the pay was better in private crews and the work often farther from the front line. DoF Hot Shot crews got the prime jobs on wildland fires, except in situations like this one, where bodies