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Neil Olsen, an older guy who’d told Jamie he was the smokejumper pilot, leaned across the table. “Finally, Rio was able to tell Skye that he was an FBI agent, undercover in the prisons for a long time. He got this guy, Darryl, to agree to testify against this bad guy, Buttles, right?”

Jamie nodded even though she had no idea. She chewed around a mouthful of surprisingly flavorful spaghetti. When Tristan had been little, he’d called everything “spicy” when he really just meant it had actual flavor rather than being bland like box mac and cheese. This spaghetti almost had a kick to it. She needed the recipe from their cook.

The warm older man who’d decided to sit with her had a slightly gruff exterior. Neil took a bite of his own dinner and glanced at the guy beside him—someone called a “spotter”—who’d tied back his long gray hair. The two of them as a pair looked like an aging rockstar had made friends with a retired cop.

“It turned out all right in the end,” Neil said. “These days Rio is the FBI field agent in Anchorage, and Skye works out of the base here. They have a house in Copper Mountain.”

Jamie couldn’t imagine that kind of marriage working, but then again, she hadn’t been able to get a successful relationship together. What did she know?

She adjusted her seat on the cafeteria bench, the sound of conversation swirling around her.

“Then there’s Tucker. Commander Newman. You met him, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Jamie shoved in another bite of food.

“His wife is Stevie, a US marshal around these parts. Good folks, all of them. And trust me, I’d know. I flew prisoner transports for the Feds for years. Ran into Stevie a time or two before she settled down with Tuck.”

Jamie nodded, like she had a clue what this guy was talking about.

“That guy talkin’ to Tucker now? That’s Mitch.”

Jamie glanced over. The men sat with two women, one of whom was pregnant.

“Mitch is the hotshot boss.”

“Right.” Jamie nodded. “I saw them all running up the road to the base earlier.”

“Gotta get that PT in.” Neil nodded.

Jamie moved a meatball around in her bowl. She was stuffed, but it was so good. And she might need the calories for whatever happened next. Like carbo-loading before a marathon.

As if she’d ever run one.

“Anyway, the wife has a migraine. I should take her a plate.” Neil eased up from the bench across from her, and she heard his knee pop. “We live in one of the trailers off the side of the men’s cabin if you wanna come by tomorrow and say howdy. I’m sure she’d like to meet you.”

“Thanks, Neil. I’d like that.”

The aging rocker guy took his plate and wandered off as well. She let her gaze sweep the room. A bearded man, the huge one—Grizz—sat by himself at one end of a table. Four guys sat with Sanchez like they were her designated bodyguards. Mack, the youngest one, with dark features and long hair pulled back in a tiny ponytail, was entertaining them with a story.

There seemed to be some kind of great divide between the table where Orion and Vince sat and the other side of the aisle, where Tori talked to Cadee. JoJo and Raine sat near each other, both reading worn paperback books. Logan fit in here, among these people who risked their lives every day to beat back the wildfires each season brought.

Seemed like it got worse every year, at least according to the news.

Jamie was glad she’d had the chance to thank Logan for caring enough to come here to try and find her. She could hardly believe he’d felt strongly enough about her to leave Montana and move to this place. Seemed like it was the edge of nowhere.

Or she would’ve thought so if it weren’t for the warmth in this room. The camaraderie and family rivalry.

She’d never fit in anywhere the way he fit in here, sandwiched in next to Orion and down from Grizz. He had a solid family at home, one connected to this base through his brother’s relationship with Tori’s sister Penny, Jamie was pretty sure—she’d seen the photo on the girls’ fridge. Now he had another family here with these people who obviously cared about him.

She had her mom, currently succeeding at rehab.

Her brother, wherever he was.

A job she loved.

But she didn’t have a family. Not really.

Her cell phone started to ring. She saw it was Samuel and answered it. “Winters.”