Free Flaming Desire - Part 4 (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Helen Grey Page A

and everything else when chances were that the retardant wouldn’t end up where it was supposed to anyway.
    Matt walk quickly, and I had to take every two steps for his one. Day after day of firefighting had taken its toll on my muscles. I tried to ignore the ache that I felt deep in my bones. Matt was just as tired as I was, but we had a job to do.
    “There,” he said over his shoulder.
    I looked past him and saw the small sign post marking the trailhead leading into Elder Box Canyon. We quickly turned away from the stream and headed up an incline, following the trail along the north side of the canyon’s edge. Within fifty yards, the trail rose steeply. We entered the canyon, the trail we followed abutting the massive rock face. At this point, the canyon was maybe sixty yards across. The opposite face was studded with rocks, boulders, with aspen, fir, and elder scattered anywhere it could take root.
    The walls were so steep and high that even if there had been no fire, no smoke choking the sky, the sun would have difficulty shining down into the bottom of the canyon until about noon every day. My right shoulder brushed against the rocks much of the time, while to my left, a steep slope dropped to the canyon floor, dotted with scrub brush, trees, and more rocks.
    It seemed an unlikely location for a campsite, but we hadn’t gone that far up yet. Just then, Matt paused and turned to me.
    “Does that brochure provided an idea of how far up the canyon the campsite is situated?”
    I quickly pulled the brochure for my leg pocket and opened it. I stepped closer to him so that we could both look at it. I pointed out the box canyon. “Crap, the campsite looks like it’s further up, near the top.” I glanced up, scanning the canyon walls. “Maybe there’s a meadow up there.”
    Matt looked quickly up, then toward the base of the canyon, shaking his head. I knew what he was thinking. The smoke was getting thicker, heavier, and darker. Then he glanced down at me with a frown. I had no idea what he was thinking, but I had an idea. This might be close.
    We continued to climb. I marveled at Matt’s stamina as the incline increased still more. Surely, his legs were burning like mine. I heard him breathing heavily, and I tried not to start panting with exertion. On any other day, this might’ve been a lovely hike to the top of the box canyon, but at this moment, it was neither lovely nor panoramic. It was hell.
    The location of this campsite was certainly not meant for novices or kids. The trail along the side of the canyon was often treacherous, and Matt and I were extremely careful to watch our footing. Still, areas of the trail shifted from hard packed dirt to loose shale chips, making stability difficult.
    I lost track of time. I don’t think we had been in the canyon very long, because Matt had set a pretty brisk pace for us, but the minutes seemed to drag on. Perhaps it was my fatigued muscles, my near complete exhaustion from days of vigorous activity, or perhaps just the steepness of the incline up along the side of the canyon. It didn’t really matter. All I was focused on was finishing the climb, checking the campsite, and making sure it was abandoned. Coming back down the canyon would be so much easier, as it was downhill most of the way.
    I felt every step now. Every step produced a burning knot in my calf muscle. My thighs burned and cramped, my hips grew stiff and achy. I had to lean slightly forward to shift the weight of the backpack forward of my center of gravity, and before long my lower back and shoulders began to protest the position. Finally, just when I was about to call uncle and tell Matt that I needed to rest a moment, we suddenly topped the incline and found ourselves at the head of the canyon.
    “Wow,” I said, catching my breath. Despite my exhaustion, I was amazed at the beauty that opened up before me. As I had figured, a meadow opened up before us, surrounded by trees. Above the tree line