Conquer the Flames (Langs Down) (7 page)

“We’ll stop it,” he promised. “I’ll head out tomorrow and figure out where the fire line is and then follow it back. Even if we can’t get it out, we might be able to divert it away from the valley. I won’t let you lose your home.”

“Thank you,” Ian said. “I know I was harsh earlier today with Laura, but I really appreciate everything you’re doing for us.”

“I deserved it,” Thorne said. “I hurt her when she hadn’t done anything to me. You probably shouldn’t forgive me so easily.”

“You apologized, and it obviously wasn’t intentional,” Ian said. “I don’t know a lot about PTSD, but I’ve seen you nearly lose control twice now, and it’s clearly something you’re struggling with. Everyone here has fought their battles. Maybe they didn’t involve guns and other weapons, but none of us are unscarred. We wouldn’t be here if we were.”

“Mr. Lang wouldn’t have let you stay?” Thorne asked.

“We wouldn’t have needed to,” Ian corrected. “That’s what sets the year-rounders apart from the seasonal jackaroos, and it’s what sets Lang Downs apart from the other stations in the area. For everyone else, being a jackaroo is a job. They do it for a few seasons and then move on to other things. They might like working here, but they don’t need it. Those of us who stay didn’t have anything else.”

“And now that you’re here?”

“Now we have everything we could possibly hope for,” Ian replied. “Macklin has Caine and his mother. Kami has a kitchen all to himself and Sarah. Neil has Molly and their family. Chris and Jesse have each other, and Chris had a safe place for his brother until Seth was old enough to head off to uni by himself.”

“And you?” Thorne asked. “What do you have?”

“A home.”

A home
. Thorne ached at the words, the longing for a place of his own so great it nearly choked him.

“If Mr. Lang were still alive, he’d already have offered you a place here,” Ian said softly. “And if I know Caine, he’s just waiting for the right moment.”

Thorne stood up hurriedly, nearly knocking the chair over in the process. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” Ian said. “Like recognizes like, Thorne. I know a troubled soul when I see one.”

“That doesn’t mean I need your pity,” Thorne ground out through clenched teeth. He couldn’t show weakness. Weakness led to death.

“It’s not pity,” Ian said. “It’s sympathy. Maybe I wasn’t a soldier, but I know what it feels like to be dealt a bad hand and to reach a point where you wonder if there’s any reason to go on living, and maybe you’re right. Maybe Lang Downs isn’t the answer for you like it was for me, but I know one thing, and that’s this: it
is
worth it to go on living.”

He rose as well, more gracefully than Thorne had done, and put his cup in the sink. “Morning comes early. You’re welcome to my couch if you don’t want to listen to Caine and Macklin again. There’s pillows and blankets in the closet there. I’m going to sleep.”

Thorne stood in silence as Ian left the kitchen and disappeared down a short hallway. He turned back on the sill of a partially closed door. “The loo is right there,” he added, pointing to the door across from his bedroom. “Towels are under the sink if you decide to stay.”

And then he went into the room and shut the door, leaving Thorne to his own devices with absolutely no clue what to do now.

It was pitch dark, but the moon was out and the station wasn’t complicated. Thorne could find his way back to the big house if he wanted to. Or he could make a nest for himself on Ian’s couch. If he went back to the big house, he ran the risk of another frustrating round of listening to Caine and Macklin together, but sleeping in their guest room was station hospitality, a simple courtesy extended to someone who was helping them out. He would probably have a more restful night on Ian’s couch, but if he had another nightmare, he wouldn’t have the luxury of a private room to hide the evidence. His underbelly would be exposed for Ian to see.

Then again, Ian seemed to have discovered it already without any help from Thorne. He’d zeroed in on Thorne’s greatest desire without so much as a hint from Thorne. Maybe like really did recognize like. Thorne didn’t know how Ian had been hurt in the past, but it was clear he had been. He’d left it behind him when he came to Lang Downs, but now that too was threatened by the grassfires burning to the north. Thorne couldn’t do anything about the past, but he could protect Ian’s future.

Making up his mind, he grabbed a pillow and blanket from the closet Ian had indicated. He stripped off his shirt and boots but left his undershirt and jeans in place. He’d slept fully clothed often enough not to even notice anymore, and he didn’t want to make Ian uncomfortable in the morning by undressing more than that. He went into the loo and washed out his mouth with the mouthwash he found there. He’d have to get his pack from his ute in the morning to brush his teeth and change clothes, but at least this way he could sleep relatively comfortably. With a final glance at Ian’s closed door, he went back to the couch to get settled for the night.

Five

T
HORNE
woke with a gasp the next morning, feeling incredibly unsettled but without any memory of his dreams. He counted that a small blessing after the turmoil of the day before. His subconscious could have had a field day with everything that had happened or almost happened, so he was glad not to remember. The house was still dark, but he thought he saw the slightest hint of light through the windows, so he tossed off the covers and pulled his shirt back on. It stank of yesterday’s sweat, but he’d lived with worse in the jungle, where a change of clothes was less of a necessity than another day’s worth of rations. If he had time, he’d shower and change before breakfast. If not, he’d deal with it that night.

He left his boots by the couch so his heavy tread wouldn’t wake Ian and went out onto the veranda, only to find Ian already sitting in one of the chairs with a cup of tea in his hand.

“There’s tea in the pot if you want a cup,” Ian said. “If you want coffee, you have to wait for the canteen to open.”

“I’m fine,” Thorne said automatically. He took the empty seat and tried to decide what it meant that Ian had walked through the living room and made tea in the kitchen without waking him. “Have you been up long?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe,” Ian said. “I woke up early, and you were sleeping so peacefully. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Thorne frowned. Had he really been sleeping peacefully? Maybe the unsettled feeling came from having heard Ian moving around in the kitchen, or even from having heard him and then having the sound stop. If he’d really managed to convince his subconscious that Ian wasn’t a threat and was indeed someone under his protection, hearing him and then not hearing him could have been enough to wake him up.

“Thanks, mate. I haven’t slept through the night in months.”

“Nightmares are a bitch,” Ian agreed. “If sleeping on my couch helps with that, you’re welcome to stay, although I don’t know how much good it does your back.”

“I’m used to sleeping on the ground,” Thorne reminded him. “Anything that isn’t hard dirt or rocks poking me in the bloody back is an improvement.”

“Then my couch should feel like heaven,” Ian said with a laugh. “No hard dirt or rocks anywhere in sight.”

Thorne smiled and turned his attention toward the horizon again. The sun hadn’t peeked above the hills yet, but the sky was definitely lighter than it had been a few minutes ago. It would be another scorcher, he was sure, but for now, the temperature was surprisingly cool with what even felt like a hint of humidity in the air. He hoped that was the case, because it would help dampen the fires. A good dew could buy them hours in the morning.

He looked north automatically, searching for the haze of smoke that had lingered there for weeks now. He hadn’t looked the morning before to see how dark it appeared from Lang Downs, but he’d been judging that smoke for months. He ought to be able to calculate the distance

“Don’t tell me,” Ian said.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re figuring out by looking at the smoke on the horizon, don’t tell me. You can tell us all after breakfast, but let me enjoy the peace and quiet for a few more minutes before I have to think about the fire getting closer or worse.”

“What if it’s good news?” Thorne asked.

“Is it?” Ian countered.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Thorne replied honestly. “It’s still not full light yet, which makes it hard to judge.”

“Then let me pretend until breakfast,” Ian requested. “I hate bad news on an empty stomach.”

Thorne nodded and returned to his contemplation, but he kept tabs on Ian out of the corner of his eye. The jackaroo kept his gaze focused to the east on the spot where the sun would eventually peek over the horizon. He sipped his tea in silence and seemed content to let the world wake up around him. Thorne suspected it was a hard-won peace, and he envied Ian for it. What would it be like to have a place of his own, to be able to greet the day on his own terms and choose the battles he fought instead of going where the whims of the government or the needs of the RFS sent him? What would it be like to have a home again?

He’d been so young when he’d lost the only home he’d ever known, younger really than even his years suggested. He hadn’t known to appreciate what he had. What teenager really did? Certainly not one of relative privilege, like he’d been. He hadn’t seen it until it was gone and he couldn’t get it back.

Nothing could bring his family back, but Ian had lost just as much from the sound of it, maybe even more, and he’d found a new home, a new family. Maybe….

Thorne shook the thoughts away. He had a job to do here, and while that job included protecting Lang Downs, it didn’t include staying. Lang Downs wasn’t the only station threatened by the fires.

The sound of voices calling out greetings shattered the silence between them, and Thorne took that as his cue to rise and gather his things. He went back into the house and folded the blanket, but left it on the couch in case Ian wanted to wash it before putting it away. “I’ll see you at breakfast,” he said when he came back out. “Thanks for letting me crash on your couch.”

“Anytime,” Ian said without looking away from the imminent sunrise. Thorne tried not to feel slighted as he walked around Ian’s house and toward the canteen. He pushed the thought away and focused on what he would need to do, including calling his captain to check in since he had not done so last night.

Caine and Macklin waved him over as soon as he entered the building.

“G’morning, mate,” Macklin said. “I wasn’t sure you were still here. You didn’t come in last night.”

“I crashed on Ian’s couch,” Thorne said. “We got to talking and it got late and it was just easier to stay.”

“No worries,” Macklin said. “Where you sleep is your business. Have you met Sam and Jeremy?”

Thorne nodded to the other two men at the table. “No, we haven’t met yet.”

“Sam is our office manager and Jeremy is one of our crew bosses,” Caine said. “They’ve been on the station for the past five years.”

“Nice to meet you,” Thorne said.

“I’m going to Taylor Peak today,” Jeremy said when the introductions were finished. “Devlin won’t budge, but I’m hoping his jackaroos have enough sense to ignore him for once.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Sam asked. “The last time you saw him, he tried to beat you up. Again.”

“And he left with more bruises than he put on me,” Jeremy replied. “I’ll be fine.”

“I could come with you,” Thorne offered impulsively. “They might listen to me since I’m with the Firies. And if they don’t, I’ve been told I’m pretty handy in a fight.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Macklin said. “Obviously we’d prefer it not come to a fight. Tensions are high enough between the stations as it is, but we need every hand we can get.”

“I have a better idea,” Caine said. “We already know what’s going to happen if Jeremy goes. We can give Thorne directions and he can go by himself, because I do think they’ll listen to him, and they’ll do so more easily if Jeremy isn’t there. It’s also much less likely to come to a fight if Jeremy stays here. Taylor has never hit anyone but Jeremy because of us as far as I know.”

“He’s welcome to try,” Thorne said with grim delight. After the past three months of having no target but the grassfires for his aggression, he’d almost welcome a fight.

“The foreman’s name is Williams,” Jeremy said. “If you can talk to him, you’ll have better luck than talking to Devlin. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s a fan of Lang Downs, but at least he doesn’t have Devlin’s blind spot, and he handles most of the day-to-day running of the station, much more than Devlin does. If you can convince him, he’s perfectly capable of helping without Devlin knowing what he’s doing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Thorne said. “While I’m gone, gather all the rakes and shovels you have and get the containers filled with water.”

“This isn’t our first grassfire,” Macklin said. “We’ll be at the fire line when you get back.”

Thorne wanted to tell them to wait for him, but they were all capable of taking care of themselves, and the sooner they added their numbers to the people already out there fighting the fires, the better the chances of keeping the damage to a minimum on the station. His own fears had no place in their decisions.