Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Caleb

"You with us, Caleb?" Sean asked jokingly as we loaded up for a call about a fire at a cherry farm outside of town.

"Yeah, man, your head has been in the clouds all week," Suzy added as I slid in beside her on the rig. I was the last one ready, and I couldn't even blame Tony for my distraction because he had the day off.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I grabbed my ear defenders, for once welcoming the inability to talk over the sirens.

I missed Tony even when we were on the same shift or saw each other when I picked up Scotty from practice. It had only been a few days, but the gaping hole in my chest from being at odds with him made it feel like decades. Worse, we hadn't broken up, hadn't said things we couldn't take back, hadn't really fought. Consequently, I didn't have anger to fall back on. We'd mutually agreed on wishing we could have a future, yet the path forward seemed rocky and unchartered at best. Rather than being mad, I was sad and frustrated, and as a result, every damn thing seemed harder.

Tasks I'd usually roar through, like gear prep, took twice as long. My concentration was also shot, but I needed to get myself together and fast because the farm fire turned out to be a multiple-structure blaze. Two barns and several adjacent outbuildings were smoking upon our arrival, with visible flames in several places.

The grass on either side of the gravel road into the farm was brown and crispy, a summer's worth of dry heat and little rain, rendering all but the most hardy of plants as potential tinder for the fire. The forest fire potential added urgency to our work. Saving the farm buildings and the orchard would take all of us, and I forcibly pushed thoughts of Tony from my brain.

Accordingly, working with my crew to fight the blaze became my sole focus. Sean gave an order. I followed it. Simple as that. I saw a job. I did it. I was on autopilot to the extent I could audition as a prototype for a robotic firefighter, doing everything by the book.

Except fires didn't often go by the book. And this one was a doozy that didn't respond to our efforts in a predictable fashion. We'd get one part of the fire out only for it to spring up worse somewhere else and double back to the previous area. Sean ordered us inside the larger of the two barns. It was used for packing fruit and storing equipment rather than livestock. I followed the orders to work on containment, with no stray thoughts and no focus other than on the task at hand.

And then disaster came out of seemingly nowhere. We'd been fighting the wind the whole call, and the fire shifted, consuming the area where I was working in a matter of seconds. Walls, ceilings, the entire structure went up in a wall of flames. Debris fell like raindrops. I dodged one chunk of wall only to turn into another. Brushing myself off, I heard a terrible creak.

One of the support beams strained and wobbled.

"Fall back," Sean barked in my ear over the headset. If the beam went, we'd be trapped or worse.

Creak.

I followed the others as we threaded our way out, moving as fast as we dared.

The energy around us seemed to shift, time slowing down even as we needed to hurry the fuck up, every moment seeming more urgent than the last.

Creak.

More debris rained. My neck prickled under all my gear, some inner sense making me turn right as a giant piece of roof came at me. I rolled, reflexes honed from years of training, no trace of my trademark clumsiness. I straightened only to dodge a flaming board.

I crawled forward, staying low, vision locked on Suzy ahead of me. It wasn't even mid-afternoon, yet there were no signs of daylight. Smoke everywhere. I resisted the urge to check my air supply, an old panic starting to gather. The failure of any of my gear would be catastrophic, but the second I gave into fear, I might be dead anyway. No time to lose, only to?—

Trust.

Trust myself, my training, and my instincts. Trust the team. Trust the gear. Trust the person who'd been checking our gear all damn summer. Tony. Trust Tony.

Doubt was deadly.

Trust was hard, but it was my only option. Trust that we'd find a way out, that I'd see light and fresh air any moment. Trust that I'd see Tony again.

Tony.

There it was. The distraction I'd fought against all damn day. I blinked to clear my mind, and when I opened my eyes, a beam was headed right for me.

A soundless scream rose in my chest as time slowed further.

"Caleb." Suzy yanked me backward, both of us tumbling and rolling, beam hitting the spot where I'd been a tenth of a second earlier.

And then, daylight. Hazy, but daylight nonetheless as we crawled out of the debris that had once been a mighty barn. And right back into the chaos of trying to contain the blaze, no time to contemplate life or death or the whisper-thin line between the two.

"You okay?" Sean asked me hours later in the locker room as I emerged from a shower. The shift felt like it had lasted a year, yet also like it had been only minutes ago that we'd clocked in. "That was a close call. You need to talk?"

Sean meant well, and undoubtedly, he would have been willing to chat with me if I'd answered honestly. But my thoughts flashed to Tony and our conversation about how hard it was to be honest in this line of work. Yet it was so blessedly easy to be honest with Tony. He was the one person in the world where I didn't have to worry about what I said because he understood. He knew when to sit quietly, when to ask questions, and when to hold them. When to hold me.

So I lied.

"I'm fine. Just another call, right? Live to chase another day."

Rather than accepting my answer like I'd hoped, Sean made a skeptical noise. "It's okay to be rattled."

"I'll survive." I shrugged, looking away before toweling off. I pulled on my street clothes with jerky movements.

"Hey, we're still friends, right?" Sean moved to the bench closest to my locker.

"You've been acting captain all summer," I reminded him with a pointed look. "You haven't accepted it yet, but you're likely our captain going forward, Sean."

"That doesn't mean you can't be honest with me." He offered a laughably earnest look. I snorted, and his expression fell. "Look, I've been asking myself all week if I messed up by warning you off…you know."

"The fact we can't mention you know by name would say you didn't. It just is what it is. Don't beat yourself up for doing your job as captain."

"The thing is, I'm more than a job. It's one of the reasons I'm not crazy about being captain. I don't like being distanced from my fellow crew members, many of whom I consider family as much as friends."

"And you look out for those friends. I get it. You were looking out for me and you know. Now, can we drop it?"

"I'm also a dad," Sean continued conversationally, and I wasn't sure whether he was changing the subject. "Declan has an upcoming race near Seattle. He texted me earlier inviting me to come up."

"That's nice." I had no idea how I was supposed to reply.

"But the invitation wasn't clear whether he wanted or expected me to bring Denver."

"Ah." I made a noise like I might understand. "You're afraid of things being weird?"

"Yeah. I don't want to make things awkward for anyone, but I can't explain how happy I am with Denver. Of course I want to bring him, and I want my kids to love him."

"He's a good guy. Give your kids time to see that."

"Yeah. I was thinking the same thing. Denver and I have a good thing going, something that feels permanent, and we're not going anywhere, regardless."

"So you're more okay if he sits this one race out? Maybe going alone is the right call."

"No." Sean made a frustrated noise. "That's not my point at all. I'm trying to say that some things are important enough that it's absolutely worth enduring short-term awkwardness. Denver is an important part of my life. So are my kids. And yeah, things might be weird at the race, but the future I want for all of us is worth figuring out how to overcome that."

"So you'll take Denver. It will work out." I hoped I wasn't lying, but from all accounts, Sean had a decent relationship with his adult kids.

"I think I'm still not making my point." Sean held up his hands. "Some things in life are worth fighting for. Some people in life. And I'm hoping I didn't screw up something that kind of real and wonderful for you as opposed to something strictly casual."

"That makes two of us," I groaned.

"Want to talk about it?"

" Captain Murphy ."

"Oh yeah. Right. Captain. Damn, I hate being in charge sometimes."

"You're a good captain." I patted his meaty shoulder as I stood. "And a good friend. For what it's worth, I hope you take the captain job permanently because we need bosses who care as much as you do."

"Thanks. That means a lot." Sean looked down at the tiled locker room floor. "And…uh…good luck."

"I'll take it."

Already composing and rejecting various texts to Tony in my head, I made it home, only for Scotty to meet me at the door.

"I waited to walk with you, but we're gonna be late for the football team parent-guardian meeting."

"Fuck a duck." I leaned my head against the doorframe. "I forgot."

"Language." Scotty laughed as he dragged me out of the house by the arm.

"You're in a good mood."

"I'm working on it." He paused partway down the sidewalk. "You okay, bro? You look like shit."

I gave a tired chuckle with every intention of lying to him as much as I had Sean. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Rather than press me, though, Scotty marched determinedly forward. "I'll hear about it later when they give you a medal for whatever shit went down on call, and you'll say it was nothing and add it to your collection."

"Whoa." Catching up to him, I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Is that really what I do?"

Perhaps minimizing stuff had become so natural that I couldn't see past the smiling front I presented on and off shift. Crap.

"Yep." Scotty shrugged.

"I almost died," I blurted. "There was a falling beam. It was a close call, too close. I'm…processing. Not fine. Working on getting there."

"No shit?" Scotty sounded more interested than horrified. "Adrenaline can be a bitch, but you're a badass. I always forget you do more than rescue cats and give school presentations. Way to go on living."

I supposed that might be as close as Scotty would get to expressing relief I didn't die. At least he didn't freak out like our mom might have.

"Thanks." I resumed walking at a slow pace. "The job is kind of cool that way. You never know what you're going to save. Today, it was a cherry farm. They lost several buildings, but we saved most of the orchard."

"Way to go." He slapped me on the back before his tone turned more serious. "You think I'd be good at a job like that?"

Absolutely not. I bit back my first impulse at a response. "You do like danger. And adrenaline."

"Like you." Scotty narrowed his eyes, daring me to object.

"Like me." I let myself think for a moment. Really think beyond my initial Mom-will-hate-this response. I stopped walking to turn toward Scotty, looking at the kid beside me with fresh eyes. And really, he wasn't much of a kid anymore. Almost a man. Taller than me. More facial hair. Deeper voice. "We both like being active. I don't see either of us at a desk."

"Nope." Scotty laughed along with me.

"And you have a good heart. You've come a long way this summer. Responsibility suits you." I took a deep breath. I'd spent all summer feeling guilty, thinking about what I owed Scotty. But maybe what I owed him most was my honesty. "Yeah. Yeah, you'd be damn good as a first responder."

"Or a soldier."

I gulped. "Or a soldier. But talk to Tony about the realities of serving in the military."

"Already on it." Scotty waved a hand airily. "Hopefully, I can catch him after the meeting and tell him I took his advice."

Fuck. I should have known Tony would be at the meeting. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see him with so much unresolved between us. Dread made it so I almost missed the other part of what Scotty had said.

"Tony gave you advice?" I asked as we reached the school.

"He said to talk to you without assuming you wouldn't understand."

"Good advice." I wished someone could give me advice on what to do.

Oh.

Wait. I supposed I could try taking that advice. Talk to the guy. Don't make assumptions. I'd made assumptions all summer. About Scotty and who he was and what I thought he needed, but also about Tony. And maybe I needed to do a better job of letting those go.

Perhaps it wasn't talking that was needed as much as listening . I took a deep breath because either way, I still had to make it through this damn meeting.