Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“So,” I venture, breaking the silence. “Do you always make such a great first impression, or is this a special occasion?”
His lips twitch, but he doesn’t look at me. “Depends on the company.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault?”
“You said it, not me.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. The man may be grumpy, but at least he has a sense of humor buried under all that broodiness.
The road smooths out as we near the station, and Flint finally glances my way. “So, this film of yours. What’s the angle?”
“Climate change, conservation, protecting the natural world,” I say. “The usual stuff people like you tend to roll their eyes at.”
“People like me?” His tone is sharp, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“You know—tough, no-nonsense mountain men who think chopping down trees and setting fires is the only way to save the planet.”
He snorts. “Controlled burns keep this forest alive, princess. Without them, you’d be documenting a wasteland instead of an ecosystem.”
I bristle at the nickname but hold my tongue. Barely. “We’ll see about that.”
By the time we reach the station, the sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the clearing. Flint kills the engine and hops out, waiting for me to follow.
The station is a modest building surrounded by a few smaller outposts and equipment sheds. His crew is gathered near a picnic table, their laughter carrying on the evening breeze.
As we approach, the conversation quiets, and all eyes turn to us.
“Well, well,” one of them drawls—a tall man with a mischievous grin and a cowboy hat perched on his head. “Is this the famous Juniper Hayes we’ve been hearing about?”
I glance at Flint, who looks thoroughly unamused.
“This is Zane,” he grumbles. “He’s a volunteer. Ignore him.”
“Can’t ignore me, boss,” Zane replies, tipping his hat to me. “Welcome to Devil’s Peak, ma’am. Don’t let Flint scare you off. He only bites if you ask nicely.”
The group erupts in laughter, and even I can’t help but smile. Flint, however, pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s reconsidering all his life choices.
“Zane,” he growls, his voice low and full of warning.
Zane raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”
As the crew disperses, Flint turns to me, his expression a mix of exasperation and something softer. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
The question catches me off guard. It’s not mocking or condescending—it’s genuine.
I meet his gaze, standing a little taller. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then he nods, a small, almost imperceptible gesture.
“Alright, then,” he says. “Let’s get to work.”
Chapter Two
Flint
Juniper is like a fire herself—hot, unrelenting, and far too dangerous to be this close to.
She sits in the passenger seat of my truck an hour later, arms crossed, her fiery red hair catching the sunlight streaming through the window. I can practically see the steam rising off her as she glares out at the dirt road, but it’s not anger—it’s frustration. She’s brimming with it. And she’s aiming it all at me.
“This is reckless,” she says, her voice clipped. “Cutting down trees to prevent fires? How does that even make sense?”
I keep my eyes on the road, my grip on the steering wheel tightening. “It’s not just about cutting trees, city girl. It’s about creating firebreaks. Controlled burns protect the forest. Without them, this entire mountain would be a tinderbox waiting for a spark.”
“You mean you set it on fire to save it? That sounds like something straight out of a bad action movie.”
I bite back a growl, my patience wearing thin. “You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. These burns clear out dead vegetation and let the forest regenerate. It’s science, not Hollywood.”
“Oh, don’t give me that ‘science’ line,” she snaps, turning to face me. “I’ve done my research. There are better ways to manage forests than lighting them up like Fourth of July fireworks.”
Her confidence grates on me, but damn if I don’t admire her for it. Most people shrink under my gruffness, but Juniper? She meets me head-on, fiery and unyielding.
“You ever been on the front lines of a wildfire?” I shoot back, glancing at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her jaw set, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “You ever watched flames tear through everything in their path? I have. And this,” I nod toward the road ahead, “is how we stop that from happening.”
She doesn’t answer, but the tension in the cab thickens. Silence stretches between us, charged and crackling, until she lets out a frustrated sigh and mutters, “You’re impossible.”
I smirk, unable to help myself. “And you’re stubborn.”
“Only because you’re wrong,” she retorts, crossing her arms tighter.
We’re almost to the site when she turns the full force of her glare on me again. “You know, for someone who supposedly loves the forest, you sure don’t seem to mind tearing parts of it down.”