Under Fire Page 8

  And about the reasons Lauren captivated him so. Her spunk, her strength, the freckles on her nose. She wasn’t beautiful in the classic sense, but her earthy qualities and self-assurance spoke to him in ways he couldn’t explain. And he hated not having answers.

  His limited means to remedy the danger they were all in chafed and replayed in his thoughts, wearing on him. He needed a distraction.

  “So when will you be through giving me the silent treatment?” he asked, irked that he sounded winded. Despite her load, Lauren set a brisk pace.

  “What?”

  “This quiet is pretty monotonous. It’s driving me nuts.”

  “I didn’t realize I was expected to entertain you.” Her reply drifted back to him, a disembodied voice, since, at the moment, the bulky supply pack hid all but Lauren’s legs from his view.

  What had drawn her to a job as rigorous and dirty as smokejumping? Certainly the job required someone who valued hard work over aesthetics. Sweat, soot and long hours were part and parcel for wildfire management. Her career choice fascinated him as much as her toned body did.

  “I just figured since we’re in this together, we could…I don’t know…get to know each other a little.”

  Silence. Then a sigh. “All right. You first. What kind of doctor are you?”

  “A PhD. In chemistry. I’m in nanotech research and development for Hemmer International, a biochemical firm.”

  “Ooo, fun stuff.”

  Her sarcasm needled him. “Well, it’s interesting to me, and we’re doing a lot of groundbreaking work at Hemmer.” Which was why he was in this mess. Why Rick had targeted him. Damn it.

  “What’s so groundbreaking about your work?”

  “You name it. Everything that’s being done in nanotechnology is groundbreaking. It’s not just my research.”

  “All right. I’ll bite. What is nanotechnology?”

  He got similar reactions anytime he mentioned his work at social gatherings. Glazed-eyed, Janine’s friends would listen politely then give a tight grin and move on. No one wanted to listen to the techno-geek. No one appreciated the momentous achievements being made daily in nanotechnology.

  “A nanometer is one billionth of a meter. That’s seventy-five thousand times smaller than the width of a human hair.”

  He waited a beat for this fact to register.

  “Really small. I got it,” she quipped.

  “So nanotechnology is a science based on manipulating things on that microscopic scale. Scientists are developing nanosensors and nano-sized machines and molecules that can do incredible things.” He heard the excitement rising in his voice. God help him, despite the trouble his research had landed him in, he loved what he did, loved being a part of history, part of a scientific revolution that would change the world. It was heady stuff for a geek like him.

  “What can something that small do?”

  Maybe he was kidding himself, but he swore he heard a note of intrigue, of genuine interest in her tone. He dusted off the speech he’d given laymen numerous times in the past, the speech Janine had heard so often she’d memorized it.

  “Imagine a device that could be injected into the body of a cancer patient. This device could distinguish between cancer cells and healthy cells and would penetrate only the cancer cells, where it would then dispense a measured dose of medicine. Or imagine a bulletproof polymer one hundred times stronger than steel yet lightweight enough to be worn by our soldiers. A television screen you could paint on your wall. Industrial lubricants, self-cleaning windows, logic circuits, man-made antibodies… God, the possibilities are endless!”

  “Self-cleaning windows?” She chuckled, a musical sound that tripped down his spine and puddled warmth in his gut. “No kidding?”

  “No kidding.” He was describing a technological revolution, and the self-cleaning windows caught her attention? He sighed heavily. He should be used to it. Most of what he did and where nanotechnology was headed was far more complicated than the average American could fully understand. The practical implications like stain-proof fabrics were what interested most laymen. Forget drug-delivering dendrimers, nanoscale catalysts and sensors.

  Neither did the average Joe comprehend the darker ramifications of this technological revolution. Guilt chewed the lining of his stomach.

  “So besides building really microscopic machines, what do you do? Do you have hobbies?”

  He breathed a sigh of relief when she changed the topic. He didn’t relish the idea of going into the specifics of what his research in the nanosciences had wrought. He followed her up and over a large rock in their path then readjusted his makeshift arm-sling.

  Lauren’s bra. A tingling heat flashed over his skin, and he quickly reined his thoughts and his libido as he flexed his fingers around the stretchy fabric.

  Concentrate on the chit-chat. What had she asked? Hobbies?

  “Uh, a few. Sports mostly,” he croaked.

  “Yeah? Like what?” She seemed not to have noticed the huskier tone of his voice.

  “I’m a runner. Played football in college, so I keep up with that in the fall.”

  “Yale, right?”

  “How’d you—? Oh, the shirt. Yes, Yale for my undergrad work, then I earned my master’s and doctorate at Stanford.”

  She snorted. “Oh, yes. The PhD again.”

  Jackson pulled a tangled weed out of his way as he wove through the undergrowth behind her. “You have something against PhDs?”

  She peered around the pack at him. “Why?”

  “Because I’ve noticed a definite chip on your shoulder when I mention it. And because of the way you freaked when I suggested I was intelligent enough to hike down the mountain alone.”

  “I did not freak.”

  “You did. You bit my head off and accused me of calling you stupid.”

  She didn’t answer, but her gait was more clipped, the swing of her arms jerkier.

  “Lauren? What gives? You got something against chemists in general or just me?”

  “Drop it, Jackson.”

  “Look, if I said or did something to offend you, I apologize. I appreciate what you’re doing for me. Truly. I’m just not in the best mood today. Being kidnapped and having my daughter terrorized does that to me. There’s a lot at stake here and—”

  “All right!” She stopped, her hands balled at her sides, and whipped around to face him. “If I tell you, will you shut up about it, or will I have to listen to you spout patronizing platitudes?”

  Whoa! He hadn’t seen that landmine.

  He longed to soothe the taut lines of distress around her mouth with his thumb, massage the tension from her rigid shoulders, but he knew how his comforting gestures would likely be received. Especially when he couldn’t be sure his motive was really comforting her rather than an excuse to touch her.

  “Hell, forget I asked.” Irritated with himself, he brushed past her, clomping on through the woods and regretting that he’d riled her again. Why was it they set each other off this way?

  She strode up behind him. “My sophomore year at Washington State, I made the mistake of sleeping with one of my professors.”

  He slowed, turning to look at her, but she avoided his eyes as she stomped past him to take the lead again. “I thought he was genuinely interested in me, that he cared about me. But it turned out he was just an asshole who took advantage of my naiveté.”

  A disproportionately strong kick of fury spiraled through him, the urge to wrap his hands around a certain professor’s throat. Jackson barely knew Lauren, certainly had no reason to feel especially protective of her. Yet knowing some academic jerk had hurt her gnawed at him.

  “Lauren, I—” He searched for some words of comfort or condolence.

  “Don’t.” She flicked a hand and kept marching through the veil of branches. “I don’t like being patronized.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Jackson…” Her tone held a note of warning.

  “Fine.” Hea
ven forbid he waste his energy trying to be nice to someone who seemed to resent him just for being.

  She hiked in silence for a while then added, “It was bad enough that he gave me the brush off after he got what he wanted, but then…” She shifted the heavy backpack, her steps slowing. “He failed me. Sure, my grades were pretty bad, but I’d worked to pull my average up to a C. Still, he failed me. When I confronted him about it, threatened to report what had happened between us, he dismissed me like an Enquirer alien-baby headline.” Her voice grew taut. “Do you know what he said to me?”

  He already wanted to throttle this man. Did he really want to hear more?

  Yes.

  No.

  Shit. He didn’t need this, didn’t want to get emotionally invested in this smokejumper’s life. But his heart was pumping, and protective rage surged through him. “What?”

  “He told me I was wasting my time in college. That I’d never amount to anything.”

  Jackson gritted his teeth. “Damn it.”

  “Yeah.”

  He heard the hurt in her tone. And something more. Uncertainty? Surely she didn’t give this creep’s assessment any credence?

  “Lauren, you do know the guy was full of shit, right?”

  “I dropped out the next semester.”

  Jackson sighed. It killed him to think this yahoo had discouraged her so. The bastard. She was obviously bright and ambitious. Education was never wasted time.

  He wondered for a moment if the guy was still on staff, if he could track him down through friends he had at the university and—

  “Lauren, forget that guy. You’re a smokejumper, for God’s sake. I’d say you’ve more than proven him wrong.”

  “I said no platitudes! You wanted to know why I have a prejudice concerning academic snobs, so I told you. Now drop it. We’re supposed to be talking about you. Tell me about your daughter.”

  Emily.

  Just that fast, he was mired again in anxiety that squeezed the breath from him. But his concern was edged with a warmth and pride that overflowed from a full heart. Jackson fought for a lungful of pine-scented air.

  “Emily’s wonderful. She’s my reason for being, my everything.”

  She cut him a side glance. “Everything, huh? And what does your wife have to say about that?”

  “She agreed. Janine adored Emily.”

  Lauren hesitated. “Past tense?”

  Jackson knocked a limb out of his way with more force than necessary. “Janine worked for the police department. Nineteen months ago, she was shot in the line of duty and died on the way to the hospital.”

  Lauren’s steps faltered, and she swung around to face him, her face pale. “Oh God. I’m sorry.”

  He lifted a hand. “Hey, no platitudes. Remember?”

  She lifted a corner of her mouth and nodded. “Right.”

  Silence fell again, but this time the quiet seemed less awkward. Ironic since they’d both shared rather painful parts of their past. Or maybe not so ironic.

  “So you’re doing the single parent thing? That’s gotta be tough.”

  “We manage. Like I said, Emily’s everything to me. Helping her deal with her loss, helping with homework, driving her to soccer practice and science club meetings…”

  A hollow ache twisted through him. God, let them do those mundane things again. She had to be all right. Had to!

  “Raising another little chemist, are you?” Lauren angled a grin his way, and the warmth in her expression, the way the smile lit her face arrowed straight through him.

  “Hmm?”

  “Science club? Her idea or yours?”

  Jackson furrowed his brow. “Hers. Emily’s bright and inquisitive. She says she wants to be a doctor.” He gave her a wry grin. “The medical kind.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes, smiled. “Good for her. Certainly a noble pursuit.”

  Raising one eyebrow, he asked, “Better than self-cleaning windows?”

  She gave him an indelicate snort of laughter. “Much better.”

  He watched a chipmunk scamper up a pine trunk ahead of them, breathing a sigh of relief for the eased tension with Lauren. “So what about you? Did you always want to be smokejumper?”

  “Me? Naw. I was supposed to be a lawyer or brain surgeon or president or something.”

  “Supposed to be?”

  “I come from a family of over-achievers.” She held up a finger. “First there are my perfect parents, who met in high school and have a storybook romance. They still hold hands and get sappy expressions when they look at each other. Dad is not just a fireman, but also the fire chief in my hometown. Mom’s a pediatrician, which comes in handy for all the perfect grandchildren.”

  She puffed an exasperated sigh and ticked off another finger with her thumb. “My brother, the lawyer, has two boys and a girl.”

  She lifted another finger. “My sister, the orthopedic surgeon, manages to work full-time and still be the perfect mother. She has a daughter who graduated from high school at age fourteen.”

  “Wow,” he murmured.

  “Yeah, wow. My other brother, the Navy SEAL, just got married last year, but his wife is pregnant.” She turned a disgruntled expression to him. “With twins. A girl and a boy. Perfect, huh?”

  Jackson frowned. Although her tone dripped frustration, he didn’t detect any bitterness. How much pressure had her family put on her to meet their high standard? He considered her tale of the randy college professor in a new light.

  He told me I was wasting my time in college. That I’d never amount to anything.

  God, the thoughtless comment had to have hurt, living under the shadow of such success in her family.

  “I was the baby. And the disappointment,” she continued, confirming his suspicion. “The college drop out, the one who was too puny to compete at sports—”

  His gaze slid over to her toned body. She wasn’t especially tall, probably no more than five foot five. But puny?

  “—the one who kept the family from going to Europe the Christmas I was nine, because I got pneumonia and had to be hospitalized.”

  “Hang on, back up. Why couldn’t you compete at sports? I have a hard time reconciling the hot shot who jumps out of planes to fight fires with a sports washout.”

  She hoisted the backpack higher, and he was stabbed again with frustration that she was carrying the massive pack instead of him.

  “I was born seven weeks early. I barely weighed two pounds. As a kid I was always under-weight, weak, shrimpy. My family learned not to expect as much from me. They coddled me and overprotected me. When I was little, I loved the attention. Loved being the baby. But by the time I turned twelve, I was ready to do things for myself and start living up to the great Michaels’ legacy of stellar achievement. I made good grades, but I had to work for every B, sweat blood for every A. I got tired of being left behind in athletics, so I worked to get stronger, run faster, push harder.”

  They crested a hill and emerged from the trees. Jackson tipped his face to the bright sun, soaking in the warmth. Behind them, a yellow-gray haze hung in the air, a reminder of the wildfire blazing on the mountain between him and Emily. He inhaled deeply, and the scent of wood smoke mingled with the perfume of wildflowers and pine.

  “Daniel, the SEAL, was getting ready to join the Navy,” Lauren said. “I worked out with him. After a while I was keeping up with him on his morning jog, punching out sit-ups and push-ups right along with him. When college proved a no-go, I took the training classes to become a firefighter and my dad got me on with the department.”

  She stepped to the edge of an outcropping of rock and eased the backpack to the ground.

  Apparently they were taking a break. Jackson wasn’t overly tired, didn’t want to spend any valuable time enjoying the view. But then he wasn’t lugging the huge pack either. A situation he intended to change.

  Lauren dug into the pack and flipped open her compass, surveyed the landscape. “A year later, I joined a hot shot
crew putting out wildfires. After one season, I decided to try out for smokejumping.”

  He joined her at the edge of the outcropping and met her gaze. “And the rest is history?”

  “Well, sort of. I washed out the first time, but I went back the next year and made it. Barely. The chin-ups part of the PT test almost got me.”

  “PT?”

  “Physical Training. To be accepted in the rookie class you have to run a mile and a half in eleven minutes, do twenty-five push-ups, forty-five sit-ups and four pull-ups. Just four! And I almost washed out again!”

  “But you didn’t wash out again. That’s what counts.”

  “I suppose.” But she didn’t sound convinced. God, she was hard on herself.

  He cast his gaze over the rolling green vista, the vast sky and jagged mountain range. Breathtaking.

  “I wish Emily could see this. She’d love it.”

  “Who says she can’t see it someday?”

  “Nobody. I just meant…I wish she were here now.” Understatement of the year.

  Staring out at the territory they’d yet to cover, he dragged a hand over his mouth and blew out a harsh breath. So much for conversation as a distraction. He would stay knotted and tense until Emily was in his arms again, safe at home.

  A warm hand closed around his wrist. He turned a startled glance to Lauren.

  “I’ve never had a daughter, so I won’t pretend to know how you feel. But I know how I feel about Boomer and Birdman. I know it’s hard not to worry, but right now it’s counter-productive. We have to focus on the task at hand. Getting down to that highway.” She uncapped a flask from the backpack and handed it to him. “Drink. Hydration is important. Especially at this elevation. Then we’ll get moving again.”

  He met her gaze as he took the water canister from her. The sunlight glinted in her green eyes and set the rusty highlights in her hair on fire. Jackson reassessed his opinion of her. Even with no make-up and perspiration dampening the hair that framed her face, Lauren Michaels was an attractive woman. Earthy, yes, but in a sensual way that made his blood sing and his body hum. It had been a long time since a woman had stirred such strong feelings in him. Only Janine had ever had such an immediate and devastating effect on his libido.