The Forest Ranger's Husband (16 page)

Andie flinched, staring at Phil in surprise. The forest ranger’s husband. Her husband.

Alex smiled at her. “You’re Mrs. Cutter?”

She nodded, unwilling to trust her voice right now.

“Well, Matt’s the best man we have for the job. If anyone knows how to hike in during an emergency like this, it’s Matt.”

There was no denying the tone of trust in Alex’s voice. Andie picked up her binoculars and stared at the mountain. Thick smoke the color of gray slate hovered above the canyon. Beneath the haze, red flames flickered upward, eating at the fuel. Superheated flash fuels surrounded the
steep slopes, fanned by erratic winds. An extremely volatile situation. And that was where her husband was going.

Into the fire.

And then Andie realized something she hadn’t thought of before. This was what Matt did. What he was good at. Because of his training and experience, he was a valuable national resource. She had hated his career with a vengeance. Hated it because it had taken him away from her. She hadn’t realized how much he loved his job. How good he was at it. How much the Forest Service needed qualified men like him to save other people’s lives and property.

She’d been selfish, loving a man, yet not wanting to let him be who he had to be. But no matter what, she wanted him back. For good this time. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and she might never get the chance to tell him how she felt.

Andie went through the motions of working at the command station, but her insides felt like jelly. She felt completely helpless and alone. All she had was prayer and faith to get her through. She carried both silently within her heart. Watching and waiting for her husband to come home safe.

M
att trained his binoculars on the fire crew working below him. Sitting in the small spotter chopper high above, he scanned the rocky crevices of the mountain below and felt a sense of relief. He’d found them. Now he had to get down to them and help them evacuate as quickly as possible.

The whir of the chopper blades overhead brought their attention, and they looked up from their work. One of the men waved, looking like a small stick figure from Matt’s vantage point. If only the man knew the danger he was in, he’d be running for his life.

Thick streams of smoke wafted toward the east. The chopper circled around, staying back far enough that it didn’t become engulfed by the smoke and lose visibility. From this angle, the fire seemed harmless. But Matt knew up close, it was an inferno, the temperatures more than five hundred degrees. Hot enough to melt flesh, scorch lungs, and kill a man before the flames even touched him. And the hotshot crew of men and women were working down there, not even realizing what they would soon be facing.

“Eight, nine, ten…” Matt counted off the twenty-man crew, then scanned the area for the helicopter to land. Verdi
Peak was too far away, and it’d take him too long to hike in to the crew. They needed another place.

“What about that higher, flat area over there?” The pilot pointed above the ridge where the crew was working.

Two bighorn sheep ran west across the open area, fleeing the fire. On any other day, Matt would have scrambled for his camera.

The landing place wasn’t far from the fire crew. From the looks of the steep cliffs and loose boulders, Matt knew the hike down into the canyon would be difficult. “It looks like the closest spot. Set her down.”

The pilot steered the small spotter plane, capable of carrying just four people at a time. They’d come full circle and now flew above the smoke, which was so thick they couldn’t see the ground below. Farther out, Matt could see the blackened ruins of what had already been consumed by the flames. Smoke streamed from numerous spot fires across the mountain—like steam from a teapot. A fierce gust of wind buffeted the plane, and Matt slammed back against his seat.

“Whoa! Glad we’ve got our seat belts on,” the pilot said.

The chopper bumped down on the flat rocks, and the pilot held it still while Matt picked up his gear and got out.

“I’ll fly back to command and refuel, then return by the time you’ve got the crew here to fly them out,” the pilot said.

“Okay.” Matt reached for his radio as the chopper lifted off in a whir of wind and dust.

“Cutter to Olston. Come in.” Matt pressed the button on his radio, calling in his safe landing to command first thing.

A brief pause of static followed.

“This is Olston, go ahead.”

“I’m on the ground west of Verdi Peak. Heading down to Echo Lake now. Copy?”

“Affirmative. Let us know when you reach the crew.”

“Will do. Over.”

Matt stowed his radio and waved at the pilot, then turned his gaze down the mountain. He knew exactly where he was. The chopper would return in about an hour, with the hope of ferrying the hotshot crew to safety just as soon as Matt could move them to the landing site.

Matt started out at a fast walk, but paced himself so he didn’t tire prematurely. Every fifteen minutes, he reached for his canteen, taking a long drink without breaking stride. In this heat, he needed to remain hydrated. It could mean the difference between collapsing and survival.

As he passed Echo Lake, he could imagine the Mackinaw Lake trout just waiting for a fishing line. Maybe he’d bring Andie and Davie up here to camp out sometime. Although he’d rather come from the opposite direction, riding horses up the canyon.

Thinking about Andie caused him to focus his attention on the task at hand. He’d talked big for her benefit, to reassure her and help her not to worry. But as thin streams of smoke billowed past him, he started to doubt his own faith. He must be crazy to be up on this mountain. What if the winds changed on him? What if he couldn’t get the crew out in time?

No! People were depending on him, and he mustn’t let them down. To fail might mean death, for them and for him.

Instead of worrying, he prayed. Silently in his heart, asking God to be with him. To help him stay strong, no matter what he faced. Talking to his Father in Heaven helped him be spiritually strong, and he grasped a heavy stick to help him walk across the sharp rocks.

He skirted thick clusters of dwarf willow bushes, thinking it’d take less time to go around than to try to hack through the dense brush. They also might be filled with snakes and hornets.

The steep cliffs high above the lake forced him to weave
past loose boulders. The sharp rocks of the canyon rolled beneath his feet, but he could make quicker headway traveling down to the fire crew than hiking up.

Looking up, he saw a mountain goat hurrying past the razor-sharp ridge. Even the animals had enough sense to flee, but not him. He kept going, scrambling across the steep scree fields. He lost his balance and slid on his stomach several feet before regaining his hold. A
whoosh
escaped him as the air was knocked from his lungs. His body scraped against the prickly rocks. Thank goodness he wore his Nomex gloves to protect his hands from being sliced up.

He lay there, panting heavily to catch his breath. “Now I know why nothing but bighorn sheep and mountain goats live up here. Nothing else can negotiate the rugged terrain.”

He turned his head and blinked. Right in front of his face, a delicate yellow primrose sat tucked back between the rocks. Reaching out, he picked the flower and sat up, tucking the blossom inside his shirt pocket. He’d give it to Andie when he saw her again.

He wiped his sweaty brow, determined to forge on. Instead of climbing back up the cliff, he stood and skirted the edge. A hard fall could break his legs or worse. He must be careful. Too many people’s lives depended on his success.

After a half hour of strenuous hiking, the smoke became thicker and he felt the heat like a blasting furnace to his face. Staying away from narrow draws and chutes, he followed the trailhead and passed a high, rocky ridge. The sound of chain saws breaking up fuel filled his ears. The fire crew was working just below him. He breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“Hello!” Matt waved and yelled.

One of the crewmen looked up and waved back. Except for Andie, Matt had never been so happy to see someone in his life.

Now that his goal was in sight, he hurried down. His first
objective was to create an escape route for the crew. One by one, he passed each crew member working along the fire line. In a few succinct sentences, he gave them instructions.

“How many in your squad?” he asked the first man he met.

“Nine.”

“Start moving your crew up the mountain now.” He pointed to where the chopper would pick them up.

“What’s the deal?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Just comply.” He sent each person on their way, expecting immediate obedience. This was a highly trained hotshot crew, and they should know better than to question his authority.

“Will do.” Each man and woman stowed their tools before hurrying up the ridge.

They’d been working hard, their bodies weary, but they’d make it…if the fire held off long enough.

Matt glanced at his watch. One-thirty in the afternoon. The hike down had taken him almost an hour. By three, the air would be superheated and a flash fire could occur. Matt wanted to be far away from this canyon by that time.

“Have we got everyone on your crew?” he asked Jim Baylor, the crew boss, once he reached the end of the fire line.

“Yes, that’s everyone.”

“Then let’s go.”

Matt and Jim brought up the rear. It took the crew over an hour of hard climbing to reach the chopper. He and Jim helped load the men and women three at a time into the small plane. It took approximately eighteen minutes for the plane to fly down the mountain, drop off the fatigued crew members and fly back up for another load. They had twenty people to get down off this death trap.

“We can’t go downhill because that’ll take us into the fire, and we can’t go up because we can’t move fast enough to escape the blaze. It’ll overtake us first,” Matt said. “While
the chopper flies crew members down the mountain, let’s clear a burnout area where we can take refuge.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Jim agreed.

While the chopper flew off the mountain with the first load of men, the rest of the team hustled, everyone working as hard as their tired bodies could move. One of the most important rules of wildfire fighting was to have an escape route at all times.

“The terrain is so difficult to work in that our crew has only been able to complete just under four chains of fire line an hour when we should have completed six chains,” Jim said.

That was about two hundred and sixty-four feet an hour. Not much headway. Considering the rough terrain, Matt wasn’t surprised.

He did the math, figuring how long it would take to get them all out of here. They didn’t have much time. Matt was experienced enough to know what would happen if they were still here by late afternoon.

Two hours later, all of the crew had been moved off the mountain except for Matt and Jim. The chopper hovered just above the ground, never quite landing. Matt would be the last off the mountain. Nine minutes more and he could be with Andie again. He’d be safe.

And that’s when he heard the loud rushing sound, like a freight train headed straight toward him. He’d heard it before, but he hadn’t expected it to occur again this close and personal.

Matt turned and looked behind him, his body prickling with dread. A wall of flame exploded up the canyon. For one brief moment, he imagined glowing eyes and sharp teeth as the gaping maw reached toward him.

“Go! Run!” Matt yelled at Jim.

The man dived toward the open doors as a blast of hot air pushed against them. The chopper lifted off. His body pump
ing with adrenaline, Matt ran and jumped, wrapping his arms around the landing skid of the helicopter. Once again, he gave thanks for his Nomex gloves.

His body jerked and his booted feet dragged in the dirt, but he hung on. Then he felt himself flying through the air, but he didn’t let go. He gripped the metal bar in a death grip, lifting his legs to cross them around the skid. He hung there. Nothing could wrench him away but death.

His helmet fell from his head, plunging into the flames below. He felt the heat of the fire licking beneath him, reaching for him. Trying to pull him in.

Breathing hurt, like swallowing fire. He ducked his head to protect his face and lungs, an instinctive gesture of survival. Tucking his face down, he used his teeth and shoulder to tug his red face shroud up over his mouth and nose.

Closing his eyes, he didn’t look down. Didn’t move at all. Just felt the rush of wind and heat against his body as he flew through the air, hanging on like a rag doll.

All he could think about was Andie and Davie. Seeing them again. His beloved family.

He was in God’s hands now.

W
hen the call came in from Matt that he’d found the hotshot crew, Andie breathed a sigh of relief. For several hours, she’d been jumpy, listening to every scratchy radio transmission, longing to hear Matt’s voice again.

Finally. Finally he was preparing to come back. Evacuation had begun. Soon he’d be safe.

She watched the movements of the fire beneath Echo Canyon as the rolling flames swelled around the lower valley. The irregular winds buffeted the firefighters, fanning the flames higher and hotter. The fire crews had kept the fire from spreading through the valley to the local ranches, but they couldn’t stop it from broiling up the canyon.

Matt was up there. She wanted him out, right now.

Please, God. Bring my husband home safe.

She repeated the prayer over and over again, holding it close to her heart. When the small chopper delivered the first three fire-crew members safely back at the command center, Andie cheered with everyone else. Word had spread fast amongst the fire crews and other personnel that they had some of their own in danger, and everyone was on high alert. As the chopper landed, they all grinned and clapped each other on the back, their hearts filled with the knowledge that
it could be them in danger. It created a bond between them all, even though they might not know one another personally.

Andie didn’t leave the helipad, determined to greet her husband the moment he landed.

Each trip by the chopper seemed to take a century. As each member of the evacuated fire crew landed and left the plane, Andie smiled and welcomed them home. She was happy they were safe, but they weren’t Matt. They weren’t the love of her life.

“The pilot says Matt is your husband. We’re sure glad he came after us,” one crew member said.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t have known about the danger if he hadn’t been there,” another said.

Their gratitude touched her heart. What Matt had done wasn’t an easy task. Adrenaline junky or not, he was an amazing man. A national resource because of his specialized training and skill level. A wildfire fighter.

She just wanted him back safe.

Radio malfunction and poor location was determined to be the cause of the communication breakdown. The hotshot crew had been low on batteries and hadn’t checked their equipment well before departing.

Andie pressed the binoculars to her face, reluctant to be distracted for even a moment. Sweat trickled down her back, but she ignored it. As she watched the advance of the fire, a horrible foreboding washed over her. Matt would come out last. She knew her husband. He wouldn’t leave until every other person was safely off that mountain.

“Oh, Matt. Come home, please. Come home to me,” she muttered beneath her breath.

Finally the chopper only had two more men to bring down the mountain, and Matt was one of them. Ten more minutes and he’d be airborne, away from danger.

Safe.

And then the worst happened. So suddenly that Andie could only stare in astonishment. The fire exploded up the canyon, so loud she thought a freight train had sped up the mountain and crashed into a ball of flames. She jerked as the blaze shot skyward and billows of black smoke filled the sky.

No! Matt! He was still up there. Still in harm’s way.

She sank to her knees, her legs too wobbly to hold her any longer. She knelt there in the dirt, her eyes wide with tears, her body visibly shaking. The entire camp went deathly quiet. Everything stopped. No one moved or spoke, their faces ashen with shock. They all looked east, toward the explosion. Knowing they had comrades still up there. Knowing they might be in mourning by evening.

Where was the chopper? Where was the last load of crew members?

Where was Matt?

And then Andie caught the low sound of a motor rising up above the roar of flames. A subtle sound, so weak she thought she must have imagined it.

The chopper appeared over the ridge, something dangling from one of its landing skids.

Andie pulled the binoculars up to her eyes, amazed by what she saw. A man clung to one of the skids with his arms and legs, hanging in midair as the chopper flew past the wall of smoke and bobbed down toward the staging area below. One stiff wind could easily dislodge the man and plunge him into the fire below.

“What on earth—?”

Who was it? How? Why?

People pointed at the sight, the subtle sounds of their comments filling the air along with the acrid stench of smoke.

And then Andie saw a flash of red below the man’s head. A neck shroud. Used to protect the face and lungs from the choking smoke.

“Matt!” she screamed and came to her feet.

It was her husband. Clinging to the chopper like a lifeline. His body swept above the fire. If he let go, he’d plummet to his death.

Into the fire.

Voices permeated Andie’s consciousness. People around her were waving and talking about the amazing sight. One man lifted his camera and started snapping pictures.

“This’ll make the five-o’clock news,” he crowed.

Matt. Somehow he’d gotten out of the fire. Somehow the Lord had brought him home. But he wasn’t out of danger yet. If he let go…if a burst of hot wind struck him…if the chopper rocked unsteadily…

She couldn’t think about that now. She had to be positive. Had to pray. He was going to make it. He was coming home to her.

The seconds ticked by like hours. Gradually, the chopper and Matt appeared larger. A crowd of firefighters surrounded the helipad, clapping and cheering as the chopper lowered enough so that Matt could drop off. But he didn’t let go. With his body frozen in a death grip, he couldn’t release his hold.

Several men ran to him, ignoring the whirring wind caused by the chopper blades overhead. Dirt sprayed Andie in the face and she felt the grit between her teeth, but she didn’t shy away. She ran toward her husband, her cheeks awash with tears.

It took Matt several minutes to release his arms and legs. A few minutes for someone to help pry him off the skid.

Men carried him away so the chopper could land. Andie found herself beside Matt, clutching his hand, not knowing how she’d gotten there. Her legs must have moved of their own volition. She didn’t know what to think. She only knew how she felt. Grateful. Relieved. Joyous. Overwhelmed. And so in love she couldn’t even describe the emotion.

They sat Matt in a chair, a medic checking his vitals. He hung limp, his head rolling back as though the exertion of holding on had drained his body.

“Matt, oh, Matt!” she cried, hugging him tight.

“I’m okay. I’m fine.” His voice sounded hoarse, like he’d breathed in too much smoke.

He looked dazed, his face black with soot. But she recognized the flash of his dear smile. The generous love in his clear blue eyes.

“Do you know where you are?” the medic asked.

“Of course. I’m safely out of the fire.” He looked at Andie and grinned. “I came home to you, sweetheart. I kept my promise.”

She laughed through her tears and kissed his filthy face. So happy to see him she was beside herself with relief.

“Don’t you ever leave Davie and me again, Matthew Cutter. If you do, I’ll hunt you down and drag you back,” she warned.

He reached into his shirt pocket, his hand visibly shaking. He pulled out a rumpled yellow flower. It sagged on its bruised stem as he presented it to her. “For you, honey. I wanted you to know that even when I’m fighting wildfire, I’m still thinking of you. Only you.”

He laid the limp flower on the palm of her hand, then closed her fingers around the stem and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I love you, Andie. More than life itself. And I’m not going anywhere.”

As she kissed his lips, she knew what he said was true. They’d be together always.

She gazed into his eyes, her heart bursting with joy. “Come home with me, Matt. I want us to be a real family again. I love you so very much. I always have. Come home and be with Davie and me forever.”

He smiled wide, his bloodshot eyes sparkling with happi
ness. He gave a harsh laugh, his voice sounding like a croak. “Finally. I thought you’d never ask.”

“Neither did I. But Davie will be so happy.”

“And what about you?” he asked.

She released a deep, satisfied sigh. “Yes—deliriously happy.”

As she wrapped her arms around Matt and helped him stand, she realized what she said was true. She never thought it possible, but God had worked a miracle in her life. He’d restored her family. That which had been lost was now found. The love. The caring. The healing power of forgiveness. She had everything she could ever want or need.