Only Her Smokejumper Firefighter - Cami Checketts Page 0,43

for them, or more fire from the ridge shot down the canyon again. The fire had moved so quickly, it had left plenty of fuel for a second pass, and now there was no way to run or hide.

Tyler met his gaze. Something in his friend’s eyes asked him to humor the man. This could be Bruce’s last conversation if the medical team didn’t get in here soon. Who knew how far they were from a landing zone?

Ren prayed the morphine would kick in soon and knock Bruce out, but he said, “She’s small, over a foot shorter than me.”

“Small but feisty?” Bruce asked.

“Yes.”

“I like that type.”

Ren’s stomach squirmed and it had nothing to do with Bruce’s mangled and burned leg. Why was he sullying Mavyn, sharing images of her with the likes of Bruce?

“What color hair?”

“Black, crazy curls all over the place.”

Bruce licked his lips, his eyes glowing. Why wasn’t the morphine knocking him out?

“Maybe you should give him another shot?” Ren said quietly. How long was it going to take to get an evac team here? There were helicopters circling as close as they could when they fought a blaze like this. Shouldn’t they be landing and running down the canyon even as they spoke?

Bruce chuckled and then coughed. “Thanks, Supe. I’d appreciate that. All the drugs I’ve downed in my life probably make me impervious to one shot of morphine helping much.”

Tyler didn’t say anything, simply prepared another shot.

“I’m going to lose my leg, aren’t I?”

There was no reason to lie about it. Ren nodded.

“What probability you give me of living?” Bruce’s eyes were dull and filled with pain, but maybe the morphine was taking effect. Ren could hope.

“I think you’ve got a good chance.”

Bruce studied him as if trying to determine if he was lying but he simply asked, “So your girl … skin?”

“Brown, creamy rich brown.” Ren hated that he kept answering, but the guy was a mess and he felt responsible for him, responsible to try to take some of the pain away.

“Sounds about right. Full lips?”

Ren swallowed and admitted. “Yeah.”

If Tyler thought this conversation was crazy, he didn’t say anything to save Ren.

“Have you ever seen a black girl like you’re describing, the crazy hair, small frame, perfect skin, and those full lips, but with green eyes instead of brown?” Bruce asked, his gaze now far away as if lost in good memories.

“Yes.” Ren felt like he was choking. Please no. If Mavyn was the girl Bruce had raped and then beaten, Ren was afraid he’d choke out what little life the man had left in him.

“Mavyn Vance,” Bruce said dreamily.

“Excuse me?” Roaring in his head alerted him to the anger building inside him. He made no move to tamp it down.

“That’s the girl I knew. The girl who I went to prison for. White daddy, black mama. So beautiful. Green eyes and that cocoa skin and those lips and that body … whew.”

Ren had saved this man. Saved the man who had almost destroyed Mavyn. It was unfathomable. He was oddly frozen though he knew soon he’d unthaw. And then he’d kill him.

“Prison was almost worth the nights we spent together.”

Tyler grunted in disgust and muttered, “Shut up, dude.”

Ren was going to kill Bruce. Right now. His body shook with pent-up rage.

“She was a wild woman in bed. Never been with the likes of her since.” He laughed. “That’s prison for ya. Been out less than a year and the women aren’t—”

Ren’s hands were around the man’s neck and he heard Tyler’s voice from afar off. “Supe! Stop!”

He’d stop. Right after justice was done. This man deserved to die for what he’d done to Mavyn. Red hot anger like he’d never felt gave him strength beyond his own.

“Supe! Ren!” More voices were hollering now and then many hands trying to pry him off of the criminal.

Bruce’s eyes were bulging and his face was turning purple. Ren felt so strong he could’ve twisted his hands and snapped the man’s neck then and there. Somehow through the rage, Ren heard a voice that didn’t fit in this setting, not at all.

It was Mom.

The words were what she’d said to him when she’d given him the painting of the Savior, the words he’d written to Mavyn in the card he’d left with the painting. This portrait shows that Jesus will never turn His back on you. This is just like the man you are and will always be—loving, accepting, and willing to forgive and forget.

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