57. Davis

When Davis had been drinking, there was a time, usually around two a.m., where Davis would wake up and have an uncomfortable reckoning. What had he said? Who had he fought? Had he kissed anyone he shouldn’t have?

Now that he wasn’t drinking, he still woke up occasionally, and he still used that time to think over his day, even more so now that he was with Jeremy. A bit of clarity in the witching hour, when Davis could spend a moment with his own thoughts, think about his life in a clearer way. As he wiped the sleep out of his eyes and looked over at Jeremy, curls tossed elegantly over his forehead and snoring softly, he knew. He knew that he loved Jeremy, too, and he wished like hell that he had the ability to tell him.

How did you tell someone that not only did you love them, but that they had become more than your wildest dreams?

How did you tell someone that the thought of them leaving you made your chest feel like it was splitting open?

How did you tell someone that you didn’t deserve them but that you were grateful for their presence in your life, even if you knew they should move on?

Davis didn’t have those words. So he pressed a kiss to Jeremy’s shoulder and slipped out of bed to fold his towels. That, he could do, even at two a.m. Before he could make his way to the dryer, a vibration distracted him.

“Your phone is ringing,” Davis said, pushing on Jeremy’s arm.

“S’on silent,” Jeremy grumbled into the pillow.

As Davis listened again, he was aware that it wasn’t the typical vibration pattern for Jeremy’s phone. Which meant that it was Davis’s phone that was vibrating. Which was odd. No one ever called Davis. His friends from back home communicated through various group threads on social media, while his coworkers at the national forest were as averse to phone calls as Davis was, so it was a text-only coordination for mountain biking or dog watching.

The only person who had called Davis in the past year was Jeremy, and he had already fallen back asleep, if the soft snores were any indication.

Davis pressed another kiss to Jeremy’s shoulder and made his way over to the dresser, which he had been surprised to learn was all a wireless charging stand, and picked up his phone.

“Hello?”

“Davis? It’s Eric. There’s a fire out by Pine Valley that’s started spreading tonight with the winds.”

“Shit,” Davis said, snapping into wakefulness.

“Haines index kicked up to six last night,” Eric explained, referring to the system that forest agencies used to quantify the dryness of the air. “We think it was a backcountry fire that got out of control and joined the smaller one in progress.” Eric sighed, and Davis could hear the stress in his voice. Like all rangers, Davis had training in fire management, and even though he was primarily an interpretive ranger, he had a second job for when it was an all-hands-on-deck moment. And as Eric continued to describe the conditions and which fire divisions had been activated, Davis realized that this was an all-hands-on-deck moment. Davis scrambled for a scrap of paper and began to write down the basic information Eric was telling him— when he needed to report, the equipment he needed, the forms that needed to be filed for the emergency response database.

“Got it, got it,” Davis said. “I, er, I’m down in Vanberg for the night, but I’ll head out soon.”

Eric grunted his acknowledgment, then hung up, saying that he needed to call Yesenia, too. Alex would stay in Klarluft, holding down the fort. He needed to check and see if Alex could watch Mary Anne, didn’t think it would be safe to take her out to where the command center would be.

As he found his pants and shoved his legs into them, Davis mentally scanned his cabin back in the forest. He had a go-bag packed and knew that he’d be part of the incident control team, not actually fighting the fire. He hoped to god they wouldn’t put him in front of a camera to update the new stations. He was better, he assumed, at the logistic aspects. Which crews would go where, what equipment needed to be deployed, all the ways he could—

“Where are you going?” Jeremy said.

So much for being a logistic expert, if Davis had forgotten that his boyfriend was asleep in the same room with him.

“There’s a fire,” Davis said, buckling his belt.

“Where?” Jeremy sat up, and Davis surpassed the need to run over and smooth his curls back into place.

“Out past Klarluft. Pine Valley area.” Davis peeked at his phone and tried to scan the email that had been sent out. “They’re evacuating the closest town now, and the support trailers are setting up at the fairgrounds.”

“Wait,” Jeremy said, his feet hitting the floor. “People are evacuating, but you’re going there. Isn’t that dangerous?”

Davis resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Jeremy, that’s what we do as rangers. We keep people safe. It’s part of the job.”

“Who keeps you safe?” Jeremy asked quietly.

Davis shrugged. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not one of the hotshots or on the wildfire team. I’ll be helping to coordinate the response. I’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be,” Jeremy said. Davis didn’t know what to say to that, so he walked out into Jeremy’s living room and began to boot up his computer.

“Jeremy, this is routine for us,” he said, even though this was Davis’s first wildfire in the Mountain West and, from the looks of it, the fire was shaping up to be a significant one. And a dangerous one, if the wind projections were accurate.

“What are you doing now?” Jeremy said, having tossed on a T-shirt, watching Davis struggle to enter his password. He was flustered, partially from being up at two a.m., but also because Jeremy didn’t seem to understand that Davis had no choice.

“I’m looking at where I need to go,” Davis said, his eyes bouncing over the map Eric had sent over. The assembly point was clearly marked, and they had gotten reservations at the motel in the nearest city. Dogs weren’t allowed, and Davis didn’t have time to drive Mary Anne down to the city. Grabbing his phone, he sent off a quick text to Alex.

“You have to leave now?” Jeremy asked, beginning to pace.

“I need to upload these forms, then I’ll be out,” Davis said. “I’m only usually out there for two weeks, max.” Couldn’t Jeremy see that this was part of his job?

Clicking into the emergency response portal, Davis double-checked his contact information, which hadn’t changed since he moved to Colorado.

Under emergency contact, Davis had written 911, followed by a number of a friend who still lived in West Virginia. It was easier that way, he had figured. He’d get help immediately, then Tiff would eventually be notified, and she could disseminate the information to anyone who cared.

His mouse hovered over the box, and he felt Jeremy come up behind him.

“Who’s Tiff?” Jeremy asked.

“A friend from high school.”

“Why is she your emergency contact?”

“She’s always got her phone on her. She’s got a kid, so I figured it would be easier.”

“What about me?”

Davis didn’t turn around, just clicked accept and closed his computer.

“Davis, why am I not your emergency contact?” Jeremy asked again.

“I didn’t get a chance to update it,” Davis lied.

“I just watched you. Why didn’t you put me?”

“I can text you when I’m out in the forest—”

“Davis.” Jeremy’s voice had gone cold. “Why won’t you put me?”

“It’s not the Forest Service’s business to know about us,” Davis muttered, sliding away from the table and beginning to put his computer into his backpack.

“It’s very much my business to know if you’re in danger or hurt.”

“I’m not going to—”

“You don’t know!” Jeremy ran a frustrated hand over his face. “You know you’re my contact, right? It used to be Foster, but I changed it to you. Because you’re the most important person in my life, Davis.”