by Vivian Wood
Well, this is going to be awkward.
“Hey, Aiden—” Cade started as he walked toward him, but his voice was drowned out by the alarm that started to wail.
“All crews head out,” Crane’s voice boomed over the system. “Including Charles.”
Shit. So this was it?
He hadn’t had an induction like this since his first day in Montana. As he raced to his locker, he felt the immediate rush of adrenaline mixed with naked fear. That was a first, and he wasn’t sure what to think of it. Fear hadn’t even been part of the equation before.
Cade suited up and raced to the airfield behind the station. He noticed the recruits he’d worked with stuck close to him.
God, no. Please don’t let them be counting on me.
“You six, go,” the captain called. Cade’s heart fell deeper when he realized he was on a rappeller group with not only Elijah, but Aiden.
If anything happens to either of them, that’s it, he thought. There’s no getting over that.
As the helicopter lifted into the air, he worked on his breathing. Even count in, even count hold, even count exhale.
You’re a goddamned firefighter, he told himself. Dangerous and stupid things are second nature.
In the past, every time he ascended with a crew, he was always first. He wanted to get the lay of the land, make sure there weren’t any surprises on the ground. But now? He was worried. There was no other word for it—and he’d never been worried before.
Below, the small wildfire had just started. It was small, but clean and hot. The chopper raged all around him. It filled his head with vibrations that made it hard to think.
Elijah nudged him hard through the suit. Fine? Elijah asked in rudimentary sign language as he tapped his thumb to his sternum.
They’d both signed up for American Sign Language in high school as their foreign language requirement, stupidly thinking it would be easier. It wasn’t, but what little they remembered had stuck.
Cade nodded and shrugged. For a moment, he though he saw his Montana crew below. Heard their screams.
They’re not there, he told himself. Breathe.
The pilot gave the signal to go, and Cade forced everything out of his head. All he saw was white. A soothing, calm white. His body took over, and Cade reached for the harness. Even if his brain couldn’t fathom it, his body couldn’t handle anything but to rappel out first.
As soon as he hit the ground, he looked up to count the suits that came behind him. Five. Two he knew were Elijah and Aiden. The other three were new recruits.
I got you.
“Trenches, go! Now!” Elijah commanded.
Cade was impressed. When he’d left Salem, Elijah was somewhat on the track to be a leader, but still had that boyishness to him. Now, it was gone. Elijah was all business, and Cade saw a trace of his dad in him.
Cade threw himself into the work. He didn’t look up when he started to sweat. He didn’t stop when the pain in his back got so severe he wondered if it was causing permanent damage. He kept his peripherals on the boots and suits around him. There were always five pairs. Always.
When he grabbed a shovel, he felt instant blisters blossom on his hands from the heat even through the gloves. Cade refused to flinch. His body was a machine, but it couldn’t stop the worry that broke through in his mind. It barreled through the serene whiteness and weighed on his brain.
What if something goes wrong? Five pairs of boots. He checked over and over again without a lift of his head.
For five hours, he pushed through. The trenches were strong, sure to hold.
That’s what you thought last time. The worry grew heavier, spread from his brain to his shoulders. The pain in any other moment would have been excruciating, but in the moment it served as a means to ground him.
I’m alive. There couldn’t be this much pain if I wasn’t.
In the distance, he thought he heard yelling and he paused for a moment.
Nothing. It was just the wind.
Cade went back to work. The walkie-talkie crackled for a moment. He bristled, but there was nothing. He waited for the voice of Barron, of Dominguez, but there was nothing but the whisper of static.
“… hear me?” Cade felt a sharp shove on his shoulder. It heated up the pain and traveled fast down his spine. Finally, he looked up and Elijah stood over him.
“Huh?”
“I said you’re on firebreak! Didn’t you hear me call you on the radio?”
“Uh … no,” Cade said.
Briefly, excuses flooded through him. Truth, too. I was too scared to listen.
“We’re done here,” Elijah said. Cade scanned his surroundings. Five suits. “There’s another crew coming in to relieve us. We just have to hike down to the main road now.”
“Oh. Okay.” Cade stood up straight, though the pain was almost too much to bear.
Elijah looked at him strangely. He opened his mouth, but snapped it back shut.
We’re both too tired for this, Cade thought.
As the two of them started down the trail together, Cade turned back to look at the fire. It had largely burned itself out. Elijah marched ahead of him.
From the back, he looked like his dad. Dog-tired after the fight, but still sturdy and strong. Cade felt like the little boy he used to be when he thought Mr. Hammond might as well be God.
Five suits. There were five suits in front of him.
But that was sheer luck, he thought to himself. I didn’t keep them safe. Elijah did. And so what does that matter?
He jogged after Elijah as the post-adrenaline rush shakes started to come on. His gear wasn’t that heavy—he worked out more than that in the gym. But it felt like it weighed a ton.
He spotted Aiden’s signature bowlegged walk at the head of the pack. He walked alone while the three recruits hung together in the middle. They no longer thought he could protect them.
And maybe I can’t. They’re on their own now.
Cade had never been happier to see the truck that waited at the main road. Aiden jumped in first and nodded for one of the recruits to sit beside him.
Anything to keep me away from him, Cade thought. But in that moment he was grateful. It wasn’t the time to get into it. Especially in a small, confined space.
Aiden had really whaled on him.
Not that I didn’t deserve it, he thought as he climbed into the truck.
Elijah was beside him. Cade stared out the window as a ground crew arrived. He watched as they moved in perfect sync together, clearly a crew that had seen some shit—and survived.
Cade wanted that again, he realized. He wanted to work together, to have zero animosity. More than that, he wanted his friends back. Elijah and Aiden had both been like his brothers ever since he could remember.
Hell, I remember when Aiden was still in diapers, he thought.
As they maneuvered onto a paved road, he thought about the years behind them. It was too much to give up.
And why should we? Why can’t we make this new dynamic work?
Aiden thought he would hurt Lily, and he couldn’t blame him.
But what if he knew how I really felt?
24
Lily
“Lily! What is wrong with you, you will burn the kouign-amann.” Jean-Michel tsked at her and batted a towel at her to get her to move.
“Sorry,” she squeaked. “It’s just—”
“The fire, the fire, yes I know. We all know,” Jean-Michel said as he eyed the pastries. “You are lucky, the perfect timing,” he said as he pulled out the tray. “Why you worry? What good will it do? He is a firefighter, he fights the fires.”
The bell to the front door rang and Jean-Michel gave her a look.
“Alright, I’m going,” she said, and rushed out front.
The last thing I feel like doing is ringing up croissants all day.
When she saw Renee, she broke into a smile. “Hi.”
“I heard about the fire,” Renee said. She reach
ed across the counter and squeezed Lily’s hand. “It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.”
“I know,” Lily said. “Or at least I hope so. It’s the first big fire—or any fire—since Montana. And… I mean, I always stress out with Elijah and Aiden out there, but with what Cade went through in Montana… I don’t know, it’s worse this time.”
“He wouldn’t be out there if the doctor and captain didn’t think he was ready,” Renee said.
“Ah, the pretty friend,” Jean-Michel said. He emerged from the kitchen armed with trays of perfectly golden kouign-amann.
Renee perked up at the compliment.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Don’t be so grateful,” Jean-Michel scoffed. “You are pretty, yes, but you are also the only girlfriend Lily has.”
“Wow, thanks,” Lily said, as she rolled her eyes.
“You are welcome. It is truth. So, what can I serve you?” Jean-Michel asked Renee. “Your figure, so slender. Only baguette, then? Coffee black?”
“Actually, I was just stopping by to see how Lily is, what with the fire—”
Jean-Michel sighed loudly. “Ah, yes, the fire. Fires do not pay the bills for me. Baguette?”
“Uh. Sure,” Renee said.
“Lily, ring up your pretty friend.” Jean-Michel disappeared back into the kitchen.
“He’s all business,” Renee said under her breath.
“He’s just tired of hearing me freak out about Cade all day. I just don’t know how he’ll handle it.”
“I’m more concerned about how you’re handling it. Or not,” Renee said. “I get that it’s a big deal, but all the reports say it’s not huge. It’ll be okay. I’m sure he’ll check in with you as soon as he can.”
“I know, but I just can’t stop thinking about my mom. And how she’d sit up all night knitting, worrying about Dad.” Lily shook her head. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m up for it.”
“For what?”
“Doing what she did.”
“Lily—”
“I’m serious! I mean, even if all the obstacles disappeared with Cade and me, even if my brothers didn’t care about us being together, then what? Am I just supposed to sit around crocheting a scarf while I wonder if he’s burning up in some forest?”
“I think that’s a bit dramatic.”
“It’s not. Firefighting is one of the most dangerous jobs there is. I mean, look at my dad—”
“That Eagle Creek fire was unprecedented,” Renee broke in. “And your dad, I mean I’m sorry for saying this, but he was old. To be fighting fires, I mean.”
“Yeah. I know,” Lily said quietly.
Outside, a fire truck pulled up into the bakery. She sucked in her breath as the door opened.
Please be Cade. Please be Cade. But the crew that jumped out were unrecognizable.
“He’ll be here,” Renee said. She squeezed Lily’s hand again. “I promise.”
“I just … I didn’t realize that saying yes to Cade meant saying yes to a fireman,” she said. “It sounds stupid, but it’s true.”
Lily boxed up the mille-feuilles that the firefighters ordered. She took solace in their wide smiles.
Surely they wouldn’t be smiling if it was bad out there. Right?
“Hey, were you guys with Cade up there?” she asked.
“Who?”
“Cade Charles? He—”
“Sorry, don’t know him,” the young man with skin dark and shiny as onyx told her. “But we came in from Corvallis, so…”
Just as Lily’s heart sank, as her hands were full of boxed opera cakes, the door jingled again. Her eyes shot toward the door, and Elijah led the way while Cade trailed behind.
“Cade,” she blurted out, and plopped the box onto the counter.
“Lily, I see that!” Jean-Michel called from the kitchen. “Those cakes are precious—”
She raced around the corner and caught Elijah’s eye. He was dog-tired, eyes bloodshot, and with the flush of fatigue that she remembered from childhood.
“Uh, I’m on a break,” she said to the crew.
“What? This is not break—” Jean-Michel started from behind her.
“Sorry!” she called to him. “I need to… get something from my car.” She held Cade’s eyes and nodded toward the parking lot.
Jean-Michel sighed. “Fine. I take your order,” he called to the crews. “Lily, you go home the rest of the day. So scattered.”
Elijah moved toward the thick accent that promised strong coffee and sweet comfort.
Lily shifted her weight back and forth as she waited by her car. She felt guilty for not saying more to Elijah, but in the moment all she wanted was Cade.
When he finally made his way out of the bakery, alone, she could hardly wait until they were out of view of her brothers before she barreled into him.
He smelled like campfire, of the woods. As she wrapped her arms around him, she squeezed her eyes shut to hold in the tears.
Cade laughed quietly.
“So, I hear you’re off for the day,” he said. “You mind driving? I’m beyond tired.”
She noticed that he shook slightly. The trembles brought a lump to her throat.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re shaking—”
“I’m fine. It’s just exhaustion.” Cade held up the keys to the Mustang.
“You drove here?” she asked. “You’re in no shape to drive.”
Cade gave her a tired smile. “I just spent who knows how many hours putting out a wildfire. Side by side with your brothers, which wasn’t exactly the most relaxing surrounding. Trust me, I’m lucky that the shakes is all that I’m dealing with.”
As Lily started up the car, Cade reclined his seat back and rubbed his temples. She carefully made her way out of the parking lot, unable to adapt to the smoothness and speed of a car that wasn’t older than her.
“You might want to use some gas, Grandma,” Cade said.
She pretended to glare at him. “Sorry, it takes awhile to adjust from driving a hybrid dinosaur and boat.”
When they arrived at her apartment, she noticed the mechanics’ appreciative looks at the car. Lily ushered Cade upstairs and shooed away the questions about the car.
“Sorry for smelling like an animal,” Cade said as he kicked off his boots.
“Oh, hush,” she said.
She pulled him into the bedroom and peeled off his clothes. Even in this state, smeared in ash and dirt, the sight of him in nothing but his boxers made her heart flutter.
A sheen of sweat remained on his skin. His hands, callused and rough, were evidence of the hours of work he’d endured.
“Sorry,” he murmured as she pulled back the duvet and tucked him in. “Just so tired…”
Lily crawled in beside him and gently rubbed his back. She listened to his breath start to lengthen and even. She matched him, breath for breath.
I take back everything I said before. Everything I thought before, she promised to whoever or whatever might listen. I’d be proud to stay up and wait for him. I’ll take him, however I can have him.
Maybe those nights spent watching her mother fret and worry weren’t a warning. Maybe it had been destiny, a means to prepare her. She knew what being with a fireman took—guts and resilience.
Who said being with a hero was easy?
She’d lied to herself before. But those were the last of it. The worries she’d spilled to Jean-Michel and Renee had simply been her sloughing off the last of her trepidation.
I’d stay up waiting forever if he asked me to.
Lily pressed her cheek to his back and let the rise and fall of his body lull her to sleep. As she toed the line between dreams and wakefulness, she felt like she was back in the old living room.
Her mother perched in the brown leather chair while Lily sat cross-legged at her feet. It was dark out, the kind of inky blackness that says it’s midnight. Overhead, her mother knit an eternity scarf in the most beautiful shade of red Lily had eve
r seen. Her mother’s fingers moved swiftly with certainty.
Lily crunched through a piece of toast buttered generously and topped with marionberry jam. This was their secret. The click of the needles seemed to only wake Lily.
Rooms away, Elijah and Aiden slept soundly. On these nights, the “fire nights,” as her mom called them, if Lily woke up, she was allowed to stay up—as long as she was quiet. And she could have as much toast as she wanted.
“Mama,” she whispered up. Her mother glanced down. The lamp overhead made a glowing halo around her mom’s wild head of curls.
“What’s up, baby?”
“Do you think Dad put all the fire out yet?”
“I’m sure he’s getting really close if he hasn’t already,” she replied.
“And what if… what if the fire’s too big? What if he can’t put it out?”
“Of course he’ll put it out,” her mom said. “Don’t worry.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s his job,” her mom said. “He has to. It’s a fire’s job to burn, and it’s your daddy’s job to put them out. It’s just as simple as that.”
25
Cade
The heat of Lily’s back and the gentle drum of her heartbeat woke Cade up. He squinted into the morning light and held her closer. When he woke up in her bed, it had started to feel natural. He’d become used to seeing her there, her back pressed against his chest.
Thank you, Cade thought, the gratitude sent into the universe. I don’t deserve this, I know. So thank you for whatever brought us together.
He wrapped a hand tighter around her waist and pulled her closer. Her scent, that blend of sweetness baking and a sort of wild freshness, he knew it would always get to him.
“What are you thinking?” she murmured. Her voice was still heavy with sleep.
“I’m exhaling gratitude,” he said.
She laughed. “You sound like a yoga teacher I once had.”
“That’s the point,” he said with a smile. “It’s part of Dr. Hersh’s whole ‘don’t go batshit crazy’ strategy.”
