“How far is the campground?”

Peter pulled a map out of a nearby bookshelf, opened it up. “It’s somewhat complicated by the downed trees all over the area.”

Dianna felt her chest tighten at the thought of not being able to get to April right away.

Sam leaned over the map. “I’m sure we’ll have no problem following your directions.” He didn’t look at her, but she knew he was saying the calming words for her benefit.

Peter highlighted the various trails with a pen. “As the crow flies, it’s approximately ten miles. The first chunk of miles will be the hardest.” And then he smiled. “I do have some good news for you, though. I keep a dirt bike stashed on the last few miles of trail. After you hike to it, the bike should cut hours off your time.”

She couldn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around Peter this time, and even though he was stiff and uncomfortable, she didn’t care. She was so happy that April was okay she saw no reason to contain her joy. Yes, she knew they’d still need to have April sit down with the police and describe the creep who’d grabbed her, but right now that felt like a small detail.

Hiking quickly across the Farm to their tent and gear, after Sam filled his pack with water, food, and first-aid supplies, they set off toward the campgrounds. Although April sounded fine on the phone, Dianna knew it was best to be prepared for the worst. Still, just thinking of having to use the first-aid kit really freaked her out.

“I would have packed the first-aid kit anyway,” Sam told her, reading her mind like he had so many times before.

“I know,” she said. “This situation with April could have been so much worse.”

Sam reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Just like you’ve said, she’s a tough kid. I’m not surprised she got herself to safety.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll bet you would have done the same thing in her situation. You two actually do sound quite a bit alike.”

She bit her lip. Was he right? Were she and April really that similar? Dianna would have never used the word “tough” to describe herself, but maybe that was because she’d spent so long making sure everything looked perfect on the outside and rarely let anyone look at what she was hiding on the inside.

Sam’s hand was warm and dry in hers and it felt strangely right to walk through the Farm and onto the trail beside him. Almost as if they were a couple.

“So—”

He paused and she wondered what he was having such a hard time saying.

“What’s your schedule like? Do you get much time off?”

She hid her grin. It was so cute, watching him fish around for information without trying to look like he was fishing.

Trying to act like his question was no big deal—when the truth was that it was a huge deal that he clearly wanted to spend more time with her outside of their quest for April—she shrugged. “Working on TV is pretty similar to working fires. We’re really, really busy for a few months, and then we get nice long breaks.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Plus, if there’s a town I want to spend some time in, I can usually convince my producer to set a week’s worth of shows there.”

She left her obvious follow-up intent of, “Like, say, Lake Tahoe,”unspoken.

“Good to know,” he said, before surprising her with, “By the way, your river rafting and hiking skills have far exceeded my expectations.”

Dianna had to laugh at herself. She was glowing all over, unable to stop smiling at his praise. One would have thought she’d never heard a compliment before.

“Thank you, Sam, that means a lot to me. Although I suppose it helps that your expectations were pretty darn low to start with.”

Instead of laughing with her, Sam shot her a very serious, almost chastened, glance. “Back in the hospital, in the motel room, I behaved like an ass. I made a lot of assumptions about you, your job, what you were capable of. I was wrong.”

She shook her head. “No, you’ve been incredible, helping me like this. Especially after everything that went wrong before.”

She was searching for the right words to try to solidify some future plans for the two of them when Sam suddenly let go of her hand and ducked into a small crevasse in the rocks.

“Good news, the dirt bike is right where Peter said it would be.”

The hike over tree trunks and wide boulders had gone much more quickly than she expected. Entirely because of the company.

Sam pulled one of the helmets out of his pack, but instead of handing it to her, he plopped it on her head.

“Cute. Very cute.”

She hadn’t given much thought to her appearance since April’s call, but now that everything was almost normal, it was nice to know she wasn’t going to scare little children. And that Sam still seemed to think she looked okay.

“Climb on behind me,” he said as he wheeled the miniature motorcycle out from its hiding place. Through the shield on the helmet she could see he was smiling as he said, “And hold on tight.”

Oh yes, it would be her pleasure to wrap her arms around his waist and chest and tuck her hips against his muscular butt.

Sam revved the engine and then they were flying down the dirt trail. Her long hair was whipping out of the bottom of her helmet, dust from the trail soon covering her legs and boots.

She’d never felt so wonderfully alive!

Between the speed and Sam’s closeness, she found herself laughing out loud. And best of all, she was getting to share this moment with Sam.

The beauty of the trees and mountains and blue sky above were so colorful, so lovely. She hadn’t been able to appreciate any of it until now, and she prayed that once she and April were back in San Francisco, she’d get to share another incredible moment like this with Sam.

Being with him had always been her biggest thrill. A total rush.

It still was.

Sam heard her laugh and smiled. He never considered that he might find himself on a dirt bike with Dianna, speeding down a narrow trail in the Rockies. And yet, these had been the most exhilarating couple of days in recent memory. No wildfire could compare to Dianna. Not even the heat.

Seeing her look so happy this morning after April’s call, it was impossible not to want to see her look that way again. The night before, he’d grappled with the question of giving things another shot. This morning, he couldn’t remember his reasons why not.