Expectant Father Read Online Free PDF Page B

were scarce.
    Non-fire civilians might say Roadhouse was lucky to be away from the action most of the time, but when fire ran in your veins, you wanted to be at the front line, with adrenaline and the dragon roaring in your ears. Why suit up otherwise?
    Before he’d rounded camp once, he saw Aiden step out of the Medical tent. His heart nearly stopped. Other Silver Bend members were filing out as well. What had happened to his boy?
    “Roadhouse,” a deep, familiar voice called out behind him.
    Roadhouse glanced around, knowing he had to give Socrates, one of NIFC’s most respected Incident Commanders, his full attention, but unwilling to take his eyes off his kid.
    “How was it out there?” Socrates didn’t call him “Old Timer” like some of the kids on the crews, because he’d been fighting fires longer than Roadhouse. He had the gray hair and scars to prove it.
    “It’s a sleeper, sir,” Roadhouse stated bluntly. Wouldn’t do to hold back with Socrates. “The fire seems tame, but it’ll surprise us all at the end. You can sense it up on the line.” He could have griped about the gasoline, but Roadhouse wouldn’t complain about having to hike five additional miles to base camp. Back in the early days, firefighting in the mountains was more of a survivalist challenge. A bit of hiking was nothing in comparison.
    Socrates stared long and hard at Roadhouse before admitting, “Someone finally agrees with the Fire Behavior Analyst.” Socrates scanned the camp. From the rise where they stood, they could see most of the mess area, tables filled with grubby, hungry firefighters, the Medical tent, the staging area where trucks unloaded men and equipment, and the command tents.
    Aiden started up the hill toward them with the Silver Bend superintendent, Golden. Roadhouse turned around, pretending to look up the mountain, hoping his son wouldn’t recognize him with all the grime and his long hair tucked beneath his helmet. Desperate for Aiden’s company, Roadhouse had resorted to dropping into Aiden’s path when he least expected it—only because Aiden would vanish if he saw Roadhouse first. When that happened, it nearly broke Roadhouse’s heart all over again.
    “Golden,” Socrates nodded to his stepson when he stopped a few feet away.
    Still in his prime and liked by many, Golden was fast becoming a legend. People would tell stories about Golden around fire camps long after he was gone.
    No one would remember Roadhouse when he was six feet under, fondly or otherwise, least of all his son.
    Hearing a second set of footsteps, Roadhouse turned around with a sinking heart, meeting Aiden’s curious gaze, watching it harden with recognition.
    When would his son learn to forgive?

    W HAT A LOVELY little family reunion. Spider pulled his helmet off and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Wasn’t he just a luck magnet today?
    “You know Roadhouse, don’t you, Spider?” Socrates asked with an arched brow. To an outsider, it might appear that Socrates was being polite, making sure they all knew each other. But every one of the men standing on the knoll knew that Roadhouse was Spider’s dad. Just like every one of them knew that Spider and Roadhouse had a shaky past, if you could call neglect and abandonment shaky.
    “Yeah, we’ve met,” Spider answered coolly, wishing he’d recognized his father as he’d walked up. He would have walked on, and let Golden talk to their commander alone. “We’ve come to check in.” This last part came out a little belligerently. It wasn’t every day that a man watched a woman get burned, ran down a mountain in his boxers and startled a pregnant woman, then had to face his father. Spider was dirty, tired and not in the mood for pleasantries.
    “Come to gripe a bit?” Socrates raised a white eyebrow. He’d been the Silver Bend superintendent before Golden and had trained many of the Hot Shots in the Idaho region, including Spider. He cut right through the bullshit and