Chapter Five
Jazz pushed herhalf-empty plate to one side.
“I’ve got to double-check the guys’ gear before they head out. Go ahead and finish your breakfast. And don’t forget to drink your water,” she called over her shoulder as she darted out of the room.
Dan heard her issuing more orders on the catwalk outside as the base sprang to life. While staying put went against every instinct he owned, he knew better than to get in the smokejumpers’ way. He’d already seen what went down in the ready room during drills and didn’t need to see it again. They’d be gone in less than ten minutes, and if he really wanted to make himself useful, he could clean up the kitchenette for whoever’d pulled KP duty.
He wolfed down his second breakfast of the morning, then loaded the portable dishwasher. He cleaned up the pots and pans and wiped down the table. Since Jazz hadn’t finished her breakfast, he heated a plate of leftovers and carried it downstairs.
He found her in the operations room, glued to the radio while taking notes. Her three-man crew were long gone.
She didn’t look up from her task. “It was a lightning strike. The jumpers are going to clear a fire control line to contain it before it can spread.”
“Eat this.” He set the plate of food, napkin, and a knife and fork next to her elbow.
“Thank you.” She tugged the plate toward her and stabbed a piece of sausage with the fork in her left hand while she continued to take notes with her right.
He was already late for the day’s work he’d lined up at the ranch, but the wistful edge in her words held him in place. He took a stool against the wall and sat quietly where he could watch her without interrupting.
He had excellent profiling skills. He had the good-ole-boy shtick down to a science, which helped. The trick was to make his questions sound innocent and not give a suspect enough time to think. He didn’t listen to what they said so much as the way they said it, or even better, what they avoided saying at all—and Jazz hadn’t liked him asking about Vegas. She’d bristled a little when he’d teased her about how it explained a vague, undefined “thing” about her, too.
Then, when he threw a few stereotypes out there as bait, she’d grabbed them, just as he’d hoped, and he’d gotten a fairly clear snapshot of her early life. She had issues with her mother, who had a weakness for men. Since her mother liked bull riders in particular, he could guess where Jazz got her fearless streak from.
And when she said she’d bought a bus ticket to Montana because it was as far as she could afford to go, she hadn’t been joking. Her pupils had contracted ever so slightly, she’d blinked a few extra times, and then she’d looked away, just for a split second, as if trying to hide what she was thinking.
If he’d read her right, then she’d left home with no money and quite likely on the outs with her mother—yet look where she was now. Her confidence confirmed why she’d come so highly recommended. He’d seen seasoned state troopers display nerves a whole lot less steady. He wouldn’t pit one of them against her on an obstacle course, that was for sure.
To round off his observations, she missed smoke jumping. Any idiot could tell that.
When she finally glanced up, more than an hour had sped by. She rolled her shoulders, stretched her arms over her head, and as she spun around, she caught sight of him. She froze, arms extended. Surprise crossed her face. She brought her arms to her sides, to his disappointment. She had a fair bit of cleavage packed inside that black sports bra.
“I didn’t realize you were still here,” she said.
And again, if he paid close attention to the way she said things, it told him a lot more than words, because he’d swear in court that it wasn’t him, personally, she didn’t like. But she did dislike something about him. He’d swear to that, too. What could it possibly be? That he was a sheriff?
Maybe she wasn’t estranged from her mother. Maybe she’d left Vegas in a hurry because she’d been on the run from the law.
No, that was too much of a stretch. He’d go with the estranged mother, because he wasn’t yet ready to admit that it really was him she had so little use for.
“I was too sore to move,” he said, which was only a tiny bend of the truth. His left shoulder might never fully recover. “I made it this far and decided I’d probably pass out before I got to my car, and it’s hot out there. I didn’t want to die of heatstroke on the tarmac after surviving the near-fatal heart attack you gave me.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “I offered you three attempts at those obstacles but you wouldn’t listen. How was I to know you have a weak heart?”
He took that small smile, and light, teasing tone, as good signs she knew he was flirting.
“Tell you what,” he said. He’d made a lot of assumptions about her, which as far as investigations went were a starting point only, and he was dying to find out if he’d profiled her right. “We’re having an open house at the Endeavour in a few weeks. Everyone in Grand is invited, including you and your team. You show up, stay a few hours, and we’ll call it even.”
That was another slight stretch of the truth. He and the guys had talked about hosting a party and opening up the new house to the whole town, sort of a “welcome to Grand” for Dallas and Ryan, but while Dallas had loved the idea, Ryan, who shied away from attention like a horse from a snake, had distanced himself from the discussions.
Dan, too, had been slow to fully commit because his sisters were going to go nuts. So far, Allie and Kirstin had minded their own business when it came to the ranch, but they loved planning parties and there’d be no holding them back.
There’d be no holding them back if they got even a whiff that he was interested in Jazz, either. They’d show him no mercy. He shuddered to think of what they might tell her about him. He’d played around a fair bit while waiting for Andy to sort her life out and his reputation might have suffered a little.
Maybe a lot.
“I own no responsibility for your lack of physical conditioning,” Jazz said. “I propose a new deal. How about you install a washer and dryer for us on the base so we don’t have to take the used gear to the laundromat in town anymore, if we come to the open house?”
“I have tobribeyou to come to a party?” He didn’t miss how she’d included her team’s participation as part of the deal, either. Then his brain replayed the first part of her statement. He narrowed his eyes. “You think I’m out ofshape?”