Flash Storm
Автор
Jill Shalvis
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Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
Naked and still exhausted, Sam Reed laid on his back in his bed staring at the ceiling and considered the irony that as a firefighter, his life was on the line—daily—and yet he’d nearly been taken out by a cold.
Freaking pathetic.
Thank God today he was feeling much better. He tested himself by raising his head, which didn’t fall off. Progress. He’d been off work for four straight days, and the sleep medication had helped. His fever was gone. Better yet, when he sat up then staggered to his feet, he didn’t want to die from the movement.
Nice.
He took a shower, dressed and drove himself to the nearest drive-thru for his first real meal in days. He parked at the beach to eat his breakfast of champions while watching the rough winds and gathering storm churn up perfect five foot California surf that he wished he was out in. Halfway through his bag of cholesterol, he got a text from Search and Rescue where he put in extra hours every month—they had a female hiker reported lost up in Big Falls Canyon.
And a bad storm brewing, too. Shit.
Big Falls was the mountain range just outside of Santa Rey, and though the trailhead was only several miles from civilization, once someone stepped on the trail and started hiking and surrounding themselves in the centuries old, several hundred feet high thick conifers and pines, it was incredibly easy to get lost in the wilderness. It happened all the time—which was why Search And Rescue kept so busy. But during a storm, getting lost could mean getting dead.
He set aside the rest of the food, slurped in half of the orange juice for the sugar rush, and headed to S&R headquarters—the ranger station at the base of Big Falls.
But the station was locked—as it often was early on a weekday morning during the off-season. Huh. He eyed the envelope sticking out the corner of the door. It had his name on it, as did the note inside. The small, neat, female writing was oddly familiar, and once he started reading, the words snagged him by the throat and squeezed.
Dear Sam,
Yes, I’m back. I’m sorry to bring you up here on false pretenses, but I knew it was the only way you’d agree to talk to me.
Besides, it’s not really entirely false pretenses. I’m up the trail waiting for you, heading toward the spot where we used to go. I’m probably already lost looking for it.
Please don’t leave me up here by myself. It’s been five years and believe me, I’ll need you.
Yours,
Sara
Sara.
Just her name brought it all back. Being young and wild and stupid in love with her in high school. Being young and wild and stupid in love with her while he’d gone through the fire academy, and she to design school. Being young and wild and stupid in love with her until the day she’d left him for Paris and the fashion world.
Without a word.
But that had been five years ago and he’d gotten over her. So over her.
So why was his gut twisted up like a pretzel?
Lifting his head, he took in the increasingly darkening sky, then the trailhead—which disappeared up the mountain in a series of twists and turns. She’d asked if he remembered their spot.
He remembered.
And if she was heading toward it, she’d have an unwelcome surprise. There was no longer a trail all the way to that old abandoned ranger station, and she could indeed get lost—quite easily.
He considered turning around. But he’d never turned his back on a stranger, so he couldn’t very well do it to someone who wasn’t a stranger at all, much as he wanted to. Instead, he swore to himself and began heading up the damn trail.
