Amazing. Incredible. Shane was the one with the poetic vocabulary, not Brandt. “Okay. We...get along.”
“That’s good.” Hartman nodded, then stepped closer, lowering his voice further. “Wilder? Brandt?”
“Yeah?” He matched Hartman’s whisper.
“You know you can talk to me, right? I’m sorry about mentioning the baby where Bronco and the others could hear, but if there’s something on your mind, I’m here to listen. As a friend, not your coworker or the jumper in charge.”
Oh. Maybe Brandt wasn’t doing such a good job of playing it cool. And if anyone could understand Brandt’s mixed-up state, Hartman might. At least he wasn’t likely to judge Brandt for harboring feelings for Shane.
“Thanks. It’s complicated. Do you think—”
“Are we ready?” Rich chose exactly that moment to pop his head out of the hangar.
“Yup.” Brandt wasn’t even sure what he’d been about to ask. It wasn’t like Hartman had a Magic 8-ball and could predict how long Shane might stick around. And there wasn’t any test for Brandt’s feelings, no scientific way to judge whether this was simply a byproduct of all the proximity or whether this might be something real. Confession might be good for the soul, but in this case, it was probably just as well that they’d been interrupted.
He followed Hartman into the hangar, where a number of their fellow jumpers were gathered. A few of the supervisors were there too, and Hartman spared a last speculative look for Brandt before he went to stand near Reid as one of the senior trainers addressed them.
“We’ll all greet the visitors, but then Reid and some of the others staying on the ground will give the visitors a tour of the facilities while the designated jumpers take the plane. After the plane circles back around, the jumpers will parachute in and show off some climbing and chainsaw skills. Easy day, but let’s keep it safe.”
“Will do.” Brandt answered along with his fellow jumpers. They spent the next chunk of time laying out gear to show the visitors so they could watch a few of them gear up for the jump. Brandt and Rich agreed to demo, getting ready while Hartman did the explaining.
Shortly after they finished setting up, Reid and the supervisors led the group in. About twenty or thirty kids, assorted adults, and then a few families he recognized like Cameron and her kids, and some blond tweens waving at Hartman—undoubtedly some of his many nieces and nephews. And there was Shane and Jewel next to Cameron, both of them smiling at something Cameron was saying. Shane was wearing the baby in the sling Brandt had made, and the blue made his eyes even sharper. Catching Brandt’s gaze, Shane smiled wider and held Jewel’s tiny hand to make her wave at him.
My people. Brandt’s ribs ached as he inhaled, too much emotion flooding him along with the oxygen. And maybe equally necessary. He’d spent years avoiding dwelling on what he was missing, what he’d never had, right up until this moment when he had it and he wasn’t sure how he’d lived without it. Reflexively, he waved back. Shane’s eyes were nervous though, like he still wasn’t sure he was supposed to be there.
Brandt wanted to go over to him, but there wasn’t time for that with Hartman already going over the equipment for the audience. He took his spot next to Rich, gearing up way slower than usual as Hartman explained each step.
“See how Brandt and Rich check each other’s connectors? We always double-and triple-check before a jump.”
Check away. The memory of Shane’s voice echoed over the months that had passed since their jump. Lifetimes really. But he could still remember those electric touches and Shane’s laugh as they landed. Sex tended to rev Shane up like that too, make his voice all shot with adrenaline and pure wonder, but Brandt wanted to give him something outside of the bedroom that made him that loose and happy. He’d wasn’t sure he’d ever obsessed over a birthday present this much.
Taking him on a jump was the obvious answer, but the new overprotective parent part of Brandt balked at the idea of both of them leaving Jewel behind on the ground. Simply because he knew how to do it safely didn’t mean the risk was zero.
His back tensed as Rich checked him. These worries about the baby and what would happen to her if something happened to Brandt kept dogging him, arriving at the least opportune moments.
“Do you ever get scared?” asked one of the older kids, a girl in a plaid shirt.
“Nah,” a younger smoke jumper answered. One of Bronco’s crowd, those too-cocky young guns who hadn’t yet lost a buddy, hadn’t really confronted near-death experiences.
Hartman made a scoffing noise and shot him a pointed look. “Of course we do. We’re jumping out of planes. And fires are scary. It’s only normal to be afraid. But it’s what you do with that fear.”
“Yeah,” Brandt echoed weakly. Fear. That was what those worries were. And he well knew how deadly panic could be, but finding a balance between concern and calm was proving hard.
Somehow he managed to shove all those thoughts aside to demonstrate some basic air positioning, trying not to glance over at Shane too much.
“Now, why don’t all of you wave goodbye to the jumpers who’ll be taking that plane you saw earlier.” One of the supervisors addressed the audience. “We’ll continue your tour while they circle back around.”
Shane made Jewel wave again as they followed Reid and the other supervisors out. There goes my heart. And it wasn’t one of Shane’s fanciful lines, but the truth. Brandt was as close to the two of them as he’d been to anyone else in years. And a few weeks ago, he would have laughed at the notion of getting attached to a tiny baby, but he was. Already she owned a huge chunk of his heart, and he hadn’t thought he had one left to give. Kindness sure, good times certainly, but not all these deeper emotions that kept slamming into him at the least opportune time.
“Let’s give them a good show,” Hartman said as they boarded the plane.
“Will do.” No more stray thoughts. No more looks back over his shoulder. Brandt had to stay focused. And he did. Triple-checking his gear one last time, listening closely for the signal.
Textbook.
Right up until the moment his chute didn’t open.
Chapter Twenty
“Are they here yet?” One of Cameron’s kids, Colt, a blond boy who kept asking to see Jewel, bounced up and down, kicking up a mini dust cloud as he did so. Shane shared Colt’s impatience as they all waited at the edge of a clearing for the arrival of the jumpers. His stomach felt all slushy. Not dread precisely, but not excitement either. Cautious anticipation maybe.
“No. Obviously. We can’t hear the plane yet.” Tabitha, the other kid, a gangly tween girl, had made it clear she was not impressed with the goings-on at all. Both kids looked more like Cameron than her more weathered smoke jumper husband. Tabitha knew almost more about the smoke-jumping protocols than the people giving the tour, but she kept her knowledge to biting quips rather than her brother’s boisterous outbursts.