Cold River - Carla Neggers [54]
Sean smiled through his discomfort. “The point of any training is for us to be able to do the job we’re called to do.”
“I read that you have to be able to climb a tree to retrieve your parachute and gear. Is that true?”
He managed a smile. “It wouldn’t do to leave the stuff up there, would it?”
Vivian took a big gulp of wine and set her glass back down. “It’s hard to picture you in full firefighter gear, out in some western canyon with a fire raging around you. I suppose jumping out of an airplane to fight a fire sounds romantic to those of us who’ve never done it.” She gave a mock shudder. “Have you ever been in danger?”
“I’d rather not—”
“Ah. Just what I expected. You’re not going to tell us the details, are you?” She glanced across the table at her husband as she continued. “True heroes never want to discuss their exploits. You should brag, Sean. You’ve earned the right.”
Sean thought about a fire a year ago and a mistake that had led to the near-death of his business partner and a fellow smoke jumper, Nick Martini. It had been Nick’s mistake. He’d be the first to say so—and the first to say he was glad he’d been the one hurt and no one else.
Hannah’s eyes were on him, as if she knew he was reliving a bad moment. Sitting there in the Robinsons’ festive dining room on a cold Vermont winter night, he could feel the fire exploding around them, propelled by high winds and fed by dry underbrush. They’d been building a fireline, back-breaking, necessary work that they’d done scores of times. He and Nick were able to deploy their emergency shelters at the last second and managed to survive.
He was relieved when Lowell Whittaker changed the subject. “Everyone I’ve run into at Three Sisters Café has told me you’re famous for your Christmas decorations,” he said to Ginny Robinson. “I can see why.”
Ginny was obviously pleased with the compliment. “Everett and I love decorating for Christmas. Putting away the decorations—now, that’s another story.”
As she and Everett served the simple meal of baked cod and assorted side dishes, Sean could see that Hannah was preoccupied, and likely tired and aching, too. She barely participated as the dinner conversation shifted to other topics—the weather, winter sports, the status of various inns in and around town and the end of the holidays.
After dinner, Lowell Whittaker got Hannah’s coat for her as they prepared to leave. “I hope your bruises heal quickly,” he said. “You must be exhausted after all you’ve done today. Shall I walk you home?”
She smiled, taking her coat. “Thanks, but I don’t have to go that far.”
“It’s very cold.”
“I’m used to the cold.”
The judge stood back in the front hall. He obviously knew something was up, but didn’t press Hannah as she quickly excused herself and thanked him and his wife for dinner. “I’ll see you at the café tomorrow,” Ginny said cheerfully. “I’m going cross-country skiing first thing in the morning with two friends. We believe in exercise first. Then scones.”
“I’ll be watching for you,” Hannah mumbled as she headed out the front door and down the steps.
Sean said goodbye to the Robinsons and the Whittakers and slipped outside, catching up with Hannah by the covered bridge. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“It’s dark and probably below zero by now.”
He smiled. “That’s why you have a coat and my scarf.”
They crossed the bridge and headed down to Main Street. There was little traffic in the village, few people out on the cold late-December night. Even O’Rourke’s looked quiet. A high-end restaurant in a Victorian building around the corner had a few diners—it tended to attract tourists and people from surrounding towns more than Black Falls residents.
Sean felt the bite of the dry, frigid air. “I’m sorry you had to find out about Devin and Toby’s California plans the way you did,” he said.
“I don’t want them to feel as if they have to stay here and not follow their dreams because of me.” She raised her collar against the cold. “It was decent of you to offer Devin a job.”
“He just needs