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Steve had no idea why Carly was here with him. She practically shimmered in the late-afternoon sunlight. Her eyes the color of the sky and as bright as the flower petals still scattered on the blanket and ranging out of sight over the rolling hills ahead of them.
Chamerion angustifolium, a pioneer species of regrowth. Fireweed was one of the first indicators of soil recovery.
She’d chosen the spot well. The surviving forest behind them, the new one, not yet grown, stretched before them. This was the line a firefighter walked every day.
I fought this fire two years ago, she’d said. She hadn’t walked this land as a smokejumper, but she’d certainly been in the air when it counted. She was no less important than the smokies or hotshots in turning and killing the fire.
Drones were still
