ONE
Park warden Hazel Hoyt adjusted her duty belt and radio before stepping onto the porch of her father’s ranch just outside Micmore National Park, Alberta. Smoke assaulted her nose, and a rush of angst tensed her muscles as she observed the distant wildfire cloud blanketing the region next to her beloved Micmore Mountain. The inferno would soon reach her if the unit crews didn’t contain the beast. One thought plagued her mind.
It was only a matter of time before the Rocky Mountain Firebug struck her park.
The serial arsonist had been setting fires all along the Rocky Mountain ranges and various buildings within towns. Three firefighters had lost their lives, including a well-known chief. How many more would perish before authorities apprehended the madman?
Hazel’s radio crackled. “Be on the lookout,” dispatch said. “Suspicious activity around Micmore National Park.”
Her heart hitched. “Shari, what does that mean?”
“Hey, Hazel,” the motherly fifty-something said. “We’re still trying to get an update. Will let you know when I find out more.”
“Copy that. Heading in now.” Hazel clicked off.
She loved her park and would do anything to safeguard it—even put her life on the line. Her job included law enforcement as well as protecting the area, wildlife and campers against predators.
“I heard Shari’s radio call. Keep your eyes peeled out there today. This guy will target Micmore and our town any day now. You understand?”
Hazel turned at the sound of her father’s stern voice. Supervisor Frank Hoyt demanded allegiance and intimidated everyone around him, including his children. Hazel’s strangled grip on the wooden railing increased, whitening her knuckles. Did he really think her incapable of doing her job? He had trained her, after all.
Park life was in her blood, along with her four brothers and three sisters. Growing up with a park supervisor as a father had instilled a love of outdoor life in them. He now made all the decisions for the parks around the region. The authority had gone to his head, and he’d become insufferable.
Hazel suppressed a sigh and removed her keys. “Gotta head in. Jackson’s troop is moving their campsite to higher ground today.”
Her father had insisted Hazel enroll her eight-year-old in summer camp. “He needs an early start sleeping out in the wild,” her father had said. “It’s how I taught all of you.”
Right. Like we had a choice.
Hazel could tell the thought of camping without her had scared her son, but she’d talked him into it. Hazel caved to Frank Hoyt...yet again.
When will I ever stand up to him?
“Talk to you later, Dad.” She bounded down the steps to her pickup truck.
“Remember, keep your—”
Hazel opened the door and turned. “Eyes to the skies and ears in nature. I got it, Dad.” His saying was ingrained in her brain. She gritted her teeth.
I know how to do my job.
She hopped into her truck and drove down the long, winding driveway, glancing in the rearview mirror at the ranch disappearing in the distance. As much as she wanted to get out from under her father’s tyrannical thumb, she loved Hoyt Hideaway Ranch. Plus, Jackson enjoyed living with his doting grandmother. Being a single parent had proven difficult for Hazel, and her mother, Erica Hoyt, had been a lifesaver.
Hazel set aside thoughts of the Hoyt family and made her way to her park station. She drove into its lot at the same time as her coworker, Nora Martin. They’d known each other since grade school and Hazel had often confided in her friend about their domineering supervisor, Frank Hoyt.
Hazel exited her vehicle. “Morning, Nora. Looks like another warm day.”
“Sure does.” She pointed to the horizon. “Not going to help the fire over there.”
Hazel put on her cowboy-like, park-warden hat. “Nope, and let’s pray it doesn’t spread toward us.”
“And that Firebug stays out of our park and town.” Nora opened her trunk.
Locals dubbed the Rocky Mountain Firebug simply “Firebug” and it caught on. He had targeted the area surrounding her small town of Bowhead Springs near Banff, Alberta. Deep into the Rocky Mountains. Authorities had failed to apprehend him, but had released details on his signature, which Hazel had memorized.
Nora strapped her knapsack on her back. “I’m coming with you today. Need to check the area for safety concerns.” She took pride in her role as safety specialist where she provided visitor-risk management to the team.
“Excellent. Let me gather the rest of my equipment first.” She eyed the stables. “How about we take the horses?”
“Yes. I’ve been itching to ride Thunder.”
A new voice joined the conversation. Shari. “Hazel, I have an update for you.”
Hazel pressed her shoulder radio button. “Go ahead. What are we looking for?”
“A scout leader reported a suspicious figure around their campsite. Micmore unit’s crew leader is en route. Just in case.”
Hazel’s pulse escalated, and she grabbed Nora’s arm. “Jackson’s troop is camping.”
Nora patted Hazel’s hand. “There are a bunch of troops out there. He’s okay. Get your stuff and let’s go.”
Hazel nodded and headed into her station.
After adding her weapon to her belt and necessities into her knapsack, Hazel mounted her favorite horse, Chestnut. She rubbed his mane. “Time to work, bud.” Hazel gently nudged her legs into Chestnut and the animal responded by trotting after Nora on Thunder.
“Can we head to Jackson’s campsite? I can’t get in touch with Dave.” Hazel had tried numerous times to contact the troop leader since leaving her father’s ranch, but he wasn’t answering her radio call. Concern corded her neck muscles. Lord, please protect my boy.
“Sure, which way?” Nora asked.
“Toward Buttercup Trail.” Hazel steered Chestnut down the path, taking them deeper into the park.
Moments later, a rustling in the trees caught her attention before a hooded figure passed by her peripheral vision, shifting from tree to tree. Something wasn’t right. She eased her reins back and Chestnut stopped. Hazel turned to Nora, placing her index finger on her lips. “Someone is ahead,” she whispered. “Stay here.”
Hazel knew Nora could take care of herself, but Hazel was the one with a weapon. She dismounted and placed her hand on her gun. She never drew it out unless absolutely necessary. Especially because of what happened the last time she discharged her 9mm. Poachers had infiltrated her park and killed a coworker after her defensive shot missed. A day she’d never forget.
She inched through the woods where she’d seen the figure hide behind a tree, and peered into the small clearing.
The hooded man bent next to a Douglas fir and withdrew a small paper bag from his pocket, stuffing a candle inside.
The Rocky Mountain
Firebug’s signature.
Hazel failed to suppress her gasp.
The suspect rose and turned, revealing a masked man.
She whipped out her gun and pressed her radio button. “Firebug spotted in the north clearing of Buttercup Trail. Send backup now.”
“I’m coming, Hazel,” Nora’s voice yelled from the radio.
“No, you’re not armed.” Hazel raised her weapon and advanced into the opening. “Give it up, man,” she called out. “Constables will be swarming this place in minutes. There’s nowhere to run.”
Nora appeared to the right of Hazel, skulking through the trees.
Lord, protect my friend.
“Retribution will happen and you can’t stop me.” The man’s snarling words spoke volumes. “Back away, Warden.”
Retribution? For what? The questions tumbled through her mind as she lifted her gun higher. “Not on my watch. Hoyts never back down.”
“So I’ve heard. Hoyts are insufferable.”
What does that mean?
She didn’t recognize the man’s voice, so how did Firebug know her family?
“Micmore unit’s leader and his crew are on their way to you, Hazel,” dispatch said.
Get them here fast, Lord.
Firebug took out a lighter and lit the bag. “Too late. Time for your precious park to burn and those firefighters to die.”
“No!” Nora yelled. She circled around him and bulldozed into the man.
He tripped and dropped the bag as he fell to the ground, entangling himself in a crocodile roll with Nora.
Flames ignited the grass and slithered into the fir trees.
God, no. Save our park.
Hazel bolted forward, trying to get a clear shot, but her coworker blocked her line of sight. “Nora, move.”
Firebug shoved Nora into one of their many park benches. She hit her head and stilled. Was she conscious?
“Nora!” Hazel prayed her coworker was okay, but the fire was already spreading to the next tree. It was time to act or all would be lost.
Once again, she raised her weapon, and aimed. She fired, but her shot went wide.
Stupid, Hazel.
Her nerves had taken over moments before she pulled the trigger, as she remembered the last time she’d missed her target.
The Rocky Mountain Firebug catapulted himself forward and tackled her.
She dropped her gun and tried to get free from his tight grip, but her tiny frame was no match for the enormous man’s strength. With her free hand, she fumbled with his mask, hoping to expose his face. However, his powerful grip kept her anchored.
“Nice try.” His raspy voice personified evil.
Movement and Chestnut’s whinny alerted them to company. Help had arrived.
Hazel squirmed in his hold. “I will stop you if it’s the last thing I do.”
“I’m on a mission and no one will get in my way.” Firebug extracted a jackknife and hit the button to release the blade, holding it high. “Time to say goodbye, Hazel.”
She attempted to block his aim, but it was useless. She was going to die.
Hazel mustered courage and swatted at his hand, but not quick enough.
His blade punched into her side.
Pain exploded and black spots danced in her vision.
A motorized vehicle sounded nearby, then the engine cut out.
“Stop!” a voice yelled.
The weight from Firebug’s muscular body lifted, and his quick footfalls shot toward the forest.
Hazel turned her diminishing gaze and caught sight of the man headed toward her.
Her best friend’s older brother—and her first crush.
“Mitchell?”
She could say no more as searing pain registered and plunged her into murky darkness.
Micmore Wildfire Unit’s crew leader, Mitchell Booth, dashed forward after hearing his sister’s best friend’s cry, ignoring pursuit of the Rocky Mountain Firebug. Her safety and the raging flames were his first concern. He dropped by her side and placed his fingers on her neck, then checked her breathing. Both strong, which told him she’d probably passed out from the pain of her wound. However, she required help...and so did he. He unclipped his radio. “Booth here. Smokey, I’m on the Buttercup Trail. Dispatch, send paramedics. Stat.” He gave additional location details and observed the other unconscious woman. “Two females need medical assistance.”
“Copy that,” dispatch said. “Deploying now.”
Thankfully, his team had also entered the park and weren’t far behind. They’d been on alert ever since Firebug had set the last wildfire closer to their location. The arsonist had been plaguing the area for weeks and authorities were still no further ahead in identifying him.
Mitchell quickly dragged both Hazel and her coworker farther away from the flames. He applied pressure to Hazel’s wound and prayed his team would arrive fast. The flames were spreading, but he had to protect his little sister’s best friend.
She stirred and coughed as she struggled to speak. “Stop. Fire.”
It was just like Hazel to be more concerned about the park than herself. He remembered how much she loved the national parks in Alberta. He placed her hands on top of her wound. “Apply pressure. Paramedics are on their way.”
He stood and unhooked the hose attached to his backpack pump, then sprayed the fire. He had to work fast to contain the spread.
Firefighting was in Mitchell’s blood, and when he’d seen the ad for wildland firefighters in his hometown area, he immediately applied for the job. He’d been working in Ontario and seized the opportunity to move back to the mountains—his first love. Protecting the wilderness had been his calling ever since he was ten years old.
Five minutes later, pounding footsteps hustled into the small clearing. “Boomer! Orders?”
Help had arrived. Mitchell turned at the sound of Smokey’s voice. Each member of his twenty-person unit had a nickname. They’d named Mitchell Boomer when they found out he’d returned to Alberta—like a boomerang. “Smokey, get your team digging a control line for containment.” Mitchell turned to a female. “Princess, help our victims until the paramedics arrive. Apply pressure to Hazel’s stab wound.” He hated the woman’s nickname, but she loved it and kept correcting him when he called her by her real name.
The towering thirty-something nodded and hurried to Hazel’s side.
Mitchell extinguished more flames. “Okay, team. Do what you do best. Let’s contain this.”
After cutting off further spread, Mitchell approached Hazel. Paramedics had treated her and taken Nora away for more care, but Hazel had refused to leave the area. Thankfully, the paramedic had stopped the bleeding on her side and bandaged her wound. He said it wasn’t deep, and her attacker had just missed a vital area. She’d be okay, however, he warned her to get to the hospital anyway.
Mitchell sat on the bench. “Hazel, why aren’t you taking the paramedic’s advice?”
“Good to see you too, Mitchell.” Her contorted expression revealed her annoyance at the question.
“Sorry, good to see you again. How long has it been?”
“Since you left and stood me up for my prom?” She held up her index finger. “Wait, I saw you briefly at your mom’s funeral but you avoided me.”
Ouch. How could he have forgotten that he’d left so quickly, after promising to take her to the high school dance when no other boys would? ...
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