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that she and Tori had run in the same crowds. Tori had been two years older and more of a party girl, but Russ was always making plans with different members of his crew so the four of them had done things as couple friends—barbeques and watching games. Tori wasn’t much for camping so that had fallen off very quickly. Tori absolutely hated that Jacqui knew all the inside jokes among the crew, but she’d asked Jacqui to be a bridesmaid when she and Vin had married a year later.
    Vin and Tori had bought a house and Tori had quickly learned what it really meant to be married to a smokejumper. You barely saw your husband for the four months of best weather. When you did, he was exhausted and only home for a day or two, usually hungry and sore—more of a zombie than a lover.
    On the surface they looked like money machines, but just like their coming home at all, income wasn’t guaranteed. It highly depended on how active the season was. Come winter, they might work search and rescue or help with prescribed fires and other projects, as Vin did, but money could be tight.
    Jacqui’s marriage had been less fraught. Russ only went on the occasional jump and even though he was only home to sleep during the summer, just like all the local hotshots, Jacqui had worked the same long hours right alongside him. Their lives had been stead-eddy, which was why she’d managed to talk him into trying for a baby.
    She turned her mind from that and glanced at Vin again. His profile was sharp and still, grim even.
    “It feels weird to look forward to something,” she said, hands slowing on where she was massaging Muttley’s thick, silky ruff. “Dad and Shar will be disappointed, but I had this awful, heavy feeling about the move to Florida. I thought it was grief, but now I’m here, I realize it was homesickness. This is where I’m supposed to be.”
    She looked to him again, hoping for understanding.
    Russ had bought minutes from the base, so he could rush back for calls. They were already at her driveway. Vin hit the button to open the garage door, but didn’t pull in. He got out to get her luggage, though, and carried it to the empty spot in the garage.
    “You’re not coming in?” Jacqui followed him into the garage where he was snapping his fingers at the dog, telling him to stay home.
    “No. I’ll go see who’s at The Drop Zone. Ask around for a place to live.” He wore a positively neutral expression, not sounding angry, but the way he started back to the open door of his running truck without another word felt like a huge slap in the face.
    “Vin!”
    She hadn’t even thought about the house. Her brain skidded and veered like it was on ice, trying to figure out what to say.
    “Wait. I didn’t—”
    “Jac, it’s fine. It’s your house,” he said flatly. Kind of patronizing. “I’m glad you’re back, that you’re staying. I just need to figure out what it means for me. I’ll come back later for my stuff.”
    “Wait!”
    He didn’t. He slammed into his truck and backed out, leaving her final call of his name echoing around the hollow space of her cold garage.
    *
    Vin didn’t mean to be a dick, but he was hugely pissed. Driving away was definitely the lesser of two lousy moves.
    He didn’t know why this surprised him. He was long past wondering why or how or if life would betray him. It was a given. Whatever good was offered to him on one hand would be taken away with the other. That was how it went for him and there was no point fighting it.
    Just as there was no point fighting Jacqui. Telling his best friend’s widow he was angry and she couldn’t have her house back was not a war he could win.
    He was still furious and liked the sound of a beer or something stronger, but when he walked into The Drop Zone, he saw Tori was on shift. That always soured his desire to be here, even though they had perfected cool civility to an art form.
    There was nowhere else to go, though. This bar was a meeting place for