by Liz Isaacson
Instead of saying those three little words he felt coiling in his gut, he said, “I’ve looked into getting a landscape architecture degree.”
She bolted away from his body like she’d been shocked. “You have?”
“I’ve been thinking about it.” A lot, actually. His nerves fired on all cylinders. “I mean, if you’re going to leave Brush Creek, I was thinking maybe I didn’t want to be left behind.”
Panic filled her eyes as they widened, and a cold fist smacked Brennan in the chest. “Oh.”
She blinked, but that terror didn’t leave her eyes. “I—I didn’t realize….”
Brennan fell back a couple of steps, his own brand of shock traveling through him, numbing him. “You thought I’d never leave Brush Creek.”
Cora finally managed to mask her emotions, which only threw fuel on Brennan’s dormant anger. “Well…yeah.”
He gestured between them, throwing off some of the numbness. “So what is this between us?”
“I—I don’t know.” She replaced the weights she’d picked up and faced him again. “I probably won’t get on a crew this year anyway.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’ve had my application in for three years. I pass the physical every year. I’m never selected.”
“So that was your plan? Date me, kiss me, make me fall in love with you, all while talking about and working toward this grand dream of yours to be on a hotshot crew. But what? You’re not going to make it anyway, so it’s okay to lead me on?”
Her mouth worked, but no sound came out.
Brennan hated that he’d said “make me fall in love with you.” He wasn’t even sure if that was how he felt. But he knew he was getting close. “What would you do if you were selected?”
She didn’t need to answer. He saw it all on her face.
“That’s what I thought.” He turned and went back to the chair, bending to pick up his water bottle. He sat down and took a long drink. He had no idea what to say next. Cora obviously didn’t either, because she picked up her weights again, turned her back on him, and kept working out.
Chapter Nine
Cora could barely do a single bicep curl. Make me fall in love with you kept rebounding around inside her mind. She’d been asking herself how she felt about Brennan for weeks. She’d been wondering if she should keep chasing the seemingly impossible dream of becoming a hotshot. Maybe she had everything she needed right here in Brush Creek.
She turned back to him. “I was just surprised to hear you’d considered leaving town.”
He nodded but said nothing.
“Have you talked with your parents about it?”
“Just Gramps. He says I should do what I think is right.”
Cora curled and released, the conversation making it difficult to time her breathing with the motions. “And what’s that?”
He lifted those beautiful eyes to hers. “I really like you, Cora.” His voice undid all her defenses, as it always had whenever he finally allowed himself to speak his emotions. She dropped the weight to her side and then to the floor.
She went to him and crouched in front of him, balancing herself with her hands on his knees. “I really like you, too,” she whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you. I—I honestly don’t think I’ll get a crew this year.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I never have before.”
“But you’ll pass the test,” he said, ticking off one finger. “And you have more rural experience this year that you didn’t last year. You’re the Captain now, and you didn’t have that leadership credential last year.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you aren’t planning on getting chosen.”
“I can’t believe you think I will.” His confidence in her was sexy, and a glow of appreciation seeped through her.
“If you don’t believe in yourself, why should anyone else?” He looked at her honestly, his face open and questioning. He leaned forward and touched the tip of his nose to hers. “I believe in you, Cora. I think you’re going to get a crew this year, and that’s why I’m making plans to leave Brush Creek.” He pulled back, the agony in his expression almost too much for her to bear. “Unless you don’t want me to leave when you do. Unless—”
“Don’t,” she said, touching a finger to his lips to silence him. “There’s no unless.”
“You sure?”
She shook her head, her tumbling emotions making it hard for her to contain them. “I’m not sure of anything,” she said. “I wish I had your confidence about the crew. I wish I knew what would happen so we could make real plans. I wish I—” She couldn’t finish, because she didn’t want him to know the true turmoil inside her. Truth was, she was scared she couldn’t fall in love again. That the ability to do so had been taken from her when Brandt left, as if he’d packed it in one of his suitcases when he’d gone.
Brennan curled his fingers around the back of her neck. “You wish what?”
She couldn’t tell him, so she hoped a subject change would work. “Have you talked to your parents?”
“No.”
So he hadn’t made many plans. “Have you applied anywhere?”
“No.”
So he’d left everything open as well, just as she had. “You’re just thinking about it.”
“Yes.” He sighed. “I wanted you to know that my options are wide open. If you get a crew in Alaska, if you wanted me to, I’d go with you.”
A short burst of laughter came out of her mouth. “I’m not going to Alaska.” She straightened and put a few paces of distance between them.
“Why not?” he asked.
“It’s freezing there.”
The metal chair squeaked as he stood. “So if you got a crew in Alaska, you wouldn’t take it?”
She cut a glance at him, and he cocked his head. “You’re going to have to say it this time, Cora.”
“Yes,” she said. “All right? Yes, I’d take it.”
His eyes darkened from their normally honey-hazel to more like storm cloud gray. “Which is why I’ve looked into a dozen colleges and universities from here to Alaska,” he said. “But if you don’t think this relationship is serious enough for that, I’ll stop torturing myself.”
“Torturing yourself?”
“Yeah, I’m not the one who needs to do six chin-ups,” he said. “Or forty sit-ups in less than a minute.” He still looked conflicted, close to upset. But he added, “I’m just here for the view,” and chuckled, confusing the heck out of Cora.
She frowned at him. “So you mean the physical torture of working out.”
“I mean it all.” He turned, picked up his water bottle, and started toward the door. He paused in the doorway that led back into her house, but he didn’t face her. “If you tell me you haven’t even thought about what would happen to us if you got selected for a crew, I don’t think we need to keep dating.”
Cora’s mouth went dry. “Of course I’ve thought about it.”
“And?”
She hated talking to his back, but she said, “I guess I didn’t think you’d leave Brush Creek.”
“Well, I guess you know different now.” With that parting statement, he pushed open the door and left.
Cora stared after him, her chest a swirling tornado. Was it wrong of her to want it all? Want him, and a hotshot crew, and everything else?
She exhaled and moved to the window in the garage she’d converted into a gym. “What would you give up?” she asked her dirty reflection. “Him?” She couldn’t imagine a life of happiness without him, and that realization sent a current of electricity through her. When had she fallen for him? When had she passed the point where she’d choose Brennan Fuller over anything else?
Over a hotshot crew? Her brain shrieked at her to know the answer.
Problem was, she didn’t know the answer, which only added more dangerous winds to the cyclone sweeping through her soul.
Another month passed, and Brennan didn’t bring up lan
dscape architecture again. They didn’t talk about what would happen if she got assigned to a hotshot crew. He didn’t come over and workout with her anymore, but that was about all that had changed.
Well, that, and now she had no idea where she stood with him. No idea if he’d really go with her. No idea if he’d spoken to his parents. She’d met his youngest sister, Berlin. And Wren and her husband. And all of his brothers. He apparently had twin sisters she hadn’t met yet, as well as another sister who had a wild streak.
She spent time on Sundays with his grandparents, but she hadn’t met his parents yet either. She’d seen the backs of their heads at church, and she knew their names, but that was about it.
“So,” she said one evening after coming inside from the autumn rain. He glanced up from where he stood in the kitchen, sprinkling cheese on the sausage and pepper pizza he’d made for her a half dozen times.
“So what?”
“So I think it’s time I met your parents.” She watched him carefully, unsurprised to see nothing from him. No flinch in the wrist movement as he added more mozzarella. No emotion pouring into his face.
“I don’t know,” he finally said.
“Why not?”
He dusted his hands and slid the pizza in the oven. “Because,” he said with his back turned as he set the timer. “I think we should wait until we know this is serious.”
“Brennan.” She couldn’t help the exasperation that leaked into her tone. “We are serious.”
He faced her and folded his arms. “Yeah? You think so?”
“You don’t? We’ve been dating exclusively for four months. We see each other every day. You kiss me all the time. I—I’ve told my friends about you. I—this is serious.”
“We have no idea what the future holds.”
“Who does?”
He shuttered everything off, the way he’d been doing since their argument in her gym. “I’d like to wait until we know about your crew.”
“That’s months away.”
He softened and came around the counter to embrace her. “I know it is, and I hate that. I wish we knew, so we could make plans, get everything out in the open.”
“They know you’re dating someone.”
“Yes, they do. And they’ve asked to meet you too.”
“What?” She pushed back so she could see his face. “Brennan, come on. This is just you being…I don’t know what.”
“Scared to get hurt,” he blurted. “That’s what this is.” He stepped back, exhaled out his frustration, and ran his hand up the back of his neck. She’d seen him do it loads of times when he had a lot on his mind, or when he was flustered as he was now.
Cora stared at him as her phone vibrated in her back pocket. Maybe being with him was too hard. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe she would never be able to reassure him that she wanted to be with him, that she could love him.
The call ended, and something pricked her mind. She pulled her device out and looked at it, seeing a number she didn’t recognize.
“Who was it?” he asked, as if that was what mattered right now.
“I don’t know.” The icon to indicate she had a new voicemail appeared in the top menu, and she swiped down to dial in.
“You have one new message and two saved messages. New message: Hi, this is Gaylan Vespario from the United States Forest Service. I’m calling for Cora Wesley. There’s some extreme fire danger in the Los Padres National Forest, and we’re hiring temporary hotshots for the next four months. Your name popped up, and I’m wondering if you’d be available to come to California, pretty much immediately.”
He continued talking, but Cora’s arm didn’t have the strength to hold her phone up. It dropped to the floor with a deafening, destructive clatter as more emotions than Cora could contain rose through her like a giant tidal wave.
Brennan approached; his mouth moved; she couldn’t hear him. She felt removed from everyone and everything, with only a roaring white noise in her ears.
Only when he touched her face did she jolt back to reality. “You’re crying,” he said. “What’s wrong?” He cradled her face in his hands, and Cora knew in that moment that she’d fallen in love with him. She also knew that she’d leave immediately—right now if she had to—for California.
“They have a hotshot job in California,” she whispered. “I have to go.” She pulled out of his warm hands and retrieved her phone before sprinting for the exit.
“Cora!” he called. “Wait!”
She didn’t wait. She couldn’t. She flung her leg over her motorcycle and revved the engine before tearing down the street. When she was safely away from Brennan, she’d call the Forest Service back. She’d worked her whole adult life for this opportunity, and she couldn’t let her soft feelings for a man she’d met four months ago change her decision.
Right? she prayed as she finally slowed her bike and pulled over. She peered up into the cold sky, the stars twinkling down on her. “Right, Lord?”
She hoped for that exhilarating and comforting peace she’d felt before.
She felt nothing.
Chapter Ten
When Brennan got stressed, he loaded Sybil into his pickup and drove. So after Cora had practically sprinted from his house, he found himself behind the wheel as darkness took over the day.
They have a hotshot job in California.
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Of course they had a firefighting job in California. It seemed like the whole state was on fire right now.
“You wanted her to get this opportunity,” he told himself, his words quickly getting swallowed by the silence.
And he did. Just not right now. He hadn’t spent any more time researching colleges and landscape architecture degrees since their mini-argument a month ago. He felt fully committed to making sure they could be together no matter what happened. Cora…not so much.
At least that was the vibe he’d picked up over the past few weeks. So no, he did not want her to meet his parents. Didn’t want to get the whole family ruffled up over a woman who would probably forget about him when the hotshot call came.
“And that’s exactly what just happened.” He ground his teeth together, wishing he wasn’t quite so easy to leave behind. Wasn’t so darn forgettable.
So while his first instinct had been to chase her taillights into the night, he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. She’d said, “I have to go,” and he agreed with her. She did have to go do this. It was everything she’d worked for and wanted for three years.
He just wished she had room in her dreams for him.
And so he drove, his mind churning through emotions, and his brain spitting out new feelings that needed to be analyzed. In the end, he wound up exactly where he’d known he would: Gramps’s driveway.
It wasn’t as late as it felt, but he still approached the front door slowly. Pops barked, and a low sound followed, which meant Gramps was still up. Brennan knocked and entered a moment later with, “It’s just me, Gramps.”
“Brennan, come on in.” He patted Pops and added, “See, Popsy? It’s just Brennan.”
Pops’s tongue hung out of his mouth and his tail went whap, whap, whap against the armrest while he stood with his paws on the back of the couch.
“Yep,” Brennan said, wishing the dog’s enthusiasm could rub off on him. “Just me.” He exhaled as he sat on the couch opposite of Gramps, leaning back and closing his eyes. This seemed like a great place to stay for the night, and he wondered if he could sneak downstairs to the bedroom where he and his brothers used to sleep when they stayed over.
“What’s got your knickers all twisted?”
Brennan wanted to smile, but his face couldn’t quite complete the action. Gramps knew about Cora, and he might even have some really great advice. But Brennan’s brain was simply too full tonight.
“Nothin’,” he said. “Just wanted to come see you.”
“Humph.” Gramps picked up the remote and pointed it at the TV. “There’s no
thing on. Bad news and that reality TV I don’t like.”
“What about those fixer upper shows you like?” Gramps had been a master carpenter when he worked for A Jack of All Trades, and Brennan had learned a few skills with a hammer from him.
“Oh, I’ve seen ‘em all.” He jabbed at the buttons and the TV turned off. “Want some coffee?”
“Yeah, sure.” Brennan followed him into the kitchen, where the old man hobbled around to get the coffee made. “Where’s Cora tonight?”
Brennan wiped his hands down his face. “I reckon she’s on her way to California.” Surely she couldn’t be already. She’d left his place an hour ago, and she had her own house and animals to take care of. Surely she couldn’t take two cats and a dog with her into the fiery fray.
No, she probably wouldn’t leave until morning. Maybe later. She did have a job at the fire station to take care of too. She couldn’t just cut and run from that. She’d wanted to be a hotshot, sure, but she wasn’t one to burn bridges.
“California?” Gramps yelled as if he’d never heard of the place. “Why would she go there?”
“She got that hotshot job she’s been talking about,” Brennan said.
“Oh.” Gramps got out the sugar bowl and two mugs, making a big racket as he did. Brennan had seen behavior like this before—Gramps made noise when he didn’t want to have a conversation. Brennan’s dad did the same thing.
But the coffee brewed, and there wasn’t much to be done but sit and sip after that. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Is that it?”
“Feels like it,” Brennan said.
“I didn’t ask how you feel,” Gramps said, a bit gruff around the edges. “I asked if that was it.”
“I don’t know.” Brennan added more sugar to his coffee, as Gramps really liked the dark roast and it was very bitter. “We hadn’t worked out what to do if she got a hotshot job. The assignments weren’t supposed to come through until February. She wasn’t even going to take her physical until the end of the year.”
He felt like he’d been robbed. Robbed of four more months with her. Robbed of the time he needed to figure out where she’d be, and how he could go with her, and if she even wanted any of that.
