Chapter 28 Fire Circle
fire circle
DUKE
By the time camp takes shape, the air’s gone heavy and the clouds have a stranglehold on the sky. It starts to sprinkle, but thankfully it’s just a tease. I know the last thing Roxanne needs is for a storm to hit tonight.
Once again, she’s trying not to show how uneasy she’s feeling. She’s smiling at all the right times, trying to help, and damn if I didn’t get a semi watching her put her tent together on her own. There’s still a Colorado gal deep inside her.
Her fingers tremble for half a second when she’s unrolling her sleeping bag. She flinches when a branch snaps behind her. Every time someone laughs too loud, her head jerks like it’s bracing for impact. She’s not okay, not completely. But she’s here, and that means something to me.
I want to go to her—say something easy, offer her a cup of cider, anything to make her smile.
Instead, I keep my hands busy, tightening a line here, checking a lantern there.
When I finally look up, she’s settled beside Allie, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, eyes on the fire.
She doesn’t know I’m watching her, but I am. God help me, I am.
What would it be like to unzip her sleeping bag and pull her into mine. To press her against me, skin to skin, and hear the way she says my name.
I shake my head and adjust my cap.
Not the time.
“What’s with you, Faraday?” Topper smirks as he passes, shouldering a bundle of firewood.
“Just tired,” I lie. “Hey, uh, any particular reason your tent’s way out there like it’s on a solo mission?” We both glance at the pop of red that’s sitting on the absolute edge of the campground.
“It’s a strategic move to distance myself from your snoring.”
“You do realize this is a therapeutic retreat, not your personal bachelor fantasy suite?”
“You say that like healing and romance can’t go hand in hand.”
“Try not to get kicked off the mountain for fraternization,” I say, feeling slightly guilty that I’m razzing my friend when my tent is not in the center, but closest to Roxanne’s.
“Please,” Topper says. “If anything gets me kicked off this mountain, it’ll be because Allie realizes I’d marry her tomorrow if I knew she was up for living la vida loca in Marble Valley, Colorado.”
“Easy, big fella. Not sure she’s the type of lady who is going to leave behind a lucrative career to muck horse stalls, even with someone as great as you, my friend.”
Since this is a dry campout, I crack open a soda from a nearby cooler and hand it to Topper.
Topper takes the Coke and clinks it against mine. “A man can dream.”
“That was fast though, yeah?”
Topper shrugs. “When you know, you know.”
I want to call bullshit, but I’ve actually never heard Topper say this about any other woman.
I was going to fire off an insult when Topper freezes, his eyes locked on Allie, who is still sitting with Roxanne.
Garrett swoops in, nuzzles up to Allie, and whispers something in her ear.
Judging by Allie’s reactions, she is not thrilled with the conversation.
She frowns and scoots closer to Roxanne.
“I don’t like that,” Topper says.
“I don’t either,” I say, heat rising in my chest.
Garrett brushes Allie’s arm, which causes her to pop off the bench. Roxanne is on her feet as well. I’m seconds away from having to physically restrain Topper when Rusty rushes over and whisks Garrett away.
Topper heads over and I’m right on his heels.
“Ugh, I need to take a shower,” Allie says, rubbing her arms.
“What did he say to you?” I insist.
Roxanne whips around, her gaze darting back and forth between Allie and me. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you okay?” Topper doesn’t hesitate to reach for Allie.
“Oh yeah. Honestly, I’ve had a man say much worse things to me.”
“That makes me sad that you brush it off like it’s normal. A man should only be respectful to you at all times,” Topper says. “And if they aren’t, you let me know and I’ll have a word with them.”
The look on Allie’s face could have melted the sun. She’s staring at Topper, biting her lip with her cheeks the brightest shade of pink.
“C’mon,” Topper says, extending his hand. Allie says nothing, takes it, and he leads her away.
Roxanne and I watch the lovebirds for a second.
“Well, I know where Allie will be sleeping tonight.”
“Yup. That’s why Topper parked his tent at the farthest end of the clearing.”
Roxanne turns, meeting my eyes and I continue my inquisition. “Seriously, what did Garrett say to you?”
“It’s nothing,” she says. “You told me he’s hurting.”
“That’s no excuse. If he made you uncomfortable, you say the word and I’ll walk him off the mountain myself.”
Her lips tug into a half smile. “It’s okay, really, he was just flirting with us. He offered that I could share his tent tonight, and when I obviously declined, he made a nasty comment and then made an offer to Allie.”
“Rusty will talk sense into him, and we’ll all make sure he stays away from y’all the rest of the trip.”
“I appreciate that.”
Her expression softens, eyes bright with something like relief. “Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?”
“Want to shuck some corn?”
“I think so,” she says.
I walk her over to Georgia, who hands her an ear of corn while I help stoke the fire under our makeshift cooktop.
Soon the camp hums with the rhythm of shared work—fish sizzling, veggies roasting, someone teasing Topper for burning the bread again.
Dinner ends slow with hearty conversations and plates scraped clean of grilled trout, roasted corn, and Millie’s apple cobbler that left everyone licking their fingers.
Stedman tosses another log onto the fire, and sparks leap up into the gathering dusk.
I stand, brushing my palms on my jeans and cast a look around the group.
Everyone gets quiet, which means they’re ready to start the chat.
“All right,” I say, clapping so I can get everyone’s attention. “Normally Fire Circle’s for whatever’s weighing heavy. No pressure, no judgment. You speak if you want. You listen if you don’t.”
My eyes flick to Roxanne and my words get tangled in my throat when I catch her staring at me across the flames. Her gaze pins me in place, steady as a hand to the chest, and for a second, the whole damn world falls away.
I shake my head, which tugs me back to reality. “But tonight’s a little different. Roxanne and Allie are here to help tell your stories with the people of World Explorer, but only what you’re willing to share.”
A few murmured nods ripple through the group.
“They’ve got good ears,” I add, “and even better hearts.”
Roxanne’s lips slowly part, but she swallows and jots something down on her notepad. I sink down onto a log bench and gesture for her to take it from here.
“First, thank you, for being willing to share your experiences,” Roxanne starts. She leans forward, her pen poised.“The first thing I’d like to ask is, what was the biggest challenge you faced when you came home?”
Roxanne and Allie stand at the ready, waiting for the first person to break the silence.
Finally, Stedman shifts on his bench and starts to speak.
“I spent most of my adult life telling men where to move, where to dig in, where to find cover. After I hung up the uniform, I felt adrift without a flock to watch over, so to speak.”
He clasps his hands on his knees.
“Took me a long time to realize it wasn’t the giving orders I missed, it was the sense of purpose you get from the mission. When you’re on a mission, everything seems to move at the speed of light compared to when you get home and you wake up in your own bed with this feeling of … now what.”
More murmurs of agreement move through the group. Roxanne and Allie silently write as fast as their hands allow. Millie sits straight-backed on the bench, her face illuminated in the soft amber light from the fire.
“I spent twenty years in uniform,” she says. “Led teams that crossed oceans. Signed my name to missions that changed lives. When I spoke, people listened. Not because I shouted the loudest, but because they trusted I knew how to get them home.”
She pauses, the fire crackling gently in the silence she leaves.
“When I came back, that rank I fought so hard for suddenly didn’t mean much. I was just another face in the store to the man checking out my groceries and to the bank teller or the woman at the carwash. I didn’t need a parade. I didn’t need a thank you. I … I didn’t know how to be useful anymore.”
“I felt that,” Georgia adds. Millie lifts her chin, and Georgia wraps her arm around her. “But now you found a new mission, yeah?”
Millie nods. “Yes. I finished my degree, became a counselor, and figured maybe helping one soul at a time was a better legacy than any medals gathering dust in a box.”
Everyone claps in acknowledgment. It’s something we usually do at Fire Circle, and it’s a reassuring sound. It means that everyone is willing to share and be themselves despite Roxanne and Allie taking notes.
“For me,” Georgia starts, touching her hand to her chest. “I mean, you would think that losing part of my leg would be the biggest adjustment. Well, okay, I guess it was, but I knew going in that getting injured was part of the job. Some people didn’t come back and here I am, my tummy full of those delicious biscuits. I’m one of the lucky ones.”
The group gives a collective, “Hear that.”
“But honestly …” Georgia’s fingers idly twist a leather bracelet around her wrist. “It was the loss of routine that threw me. Everybody thinks the best part about getting out is the freedom. No more schedules. No more inspections. No more somebody breathing down your neck about what time to eat, what to wear, when to sleep.” She shrugs, voice lighter than the weight of her words.
“At first, I did enjoy it. My first week home, I slept ’til noon every day and thought I’d hit the jackpot.
By the second week, I couldn’t get out of bed at all. ”
The group is silent now, the fire snapping softly between us.
“When nobody’s expecting you to show up, you start to wonder if you matter enough to show up at all.
I realized how much I needed the structure and routine.
I numbed out for so long, until I realized that was only making things worse.
” Georgia taps a finger against her thigh.
“That’s what Firebird gave me again. A reason to wake up and move.
A reason to eat three damn meals a day instead of coffee, cigarettes and guilt. ”
There’s a wave of nods and murmurs of agreement from the circle, and Topper smiles at Georgia and rubs her back.
Topper then raises his hand and clears his throat.
“You know what got me? After I got back? Driving.” The group quiets as he continues.
“I’d be heading down I-25, going ten under like a damn retiree in a Buick, and I’d see something on the shoulder, a cardboard box, a tire tread, hell, once it was a plastic grocery bag, and I’d feel my whole body lock up like I was back on route clearance. ”
He exhales through his nose, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“My brain knew I was stateside. Knew I was headed to King Soopers to pick up frozen pizza and beer, but my gut said ‘Don’t ease up, don’t get comfortable, that box could blow your damn truck sideways.
’ That’s what people don’t understand. It’s not always the memories that get you, it’s the wiring that sticks around.
Your body doesn’t know you’re safe, even when you’re home. ”
I know exactly what that feels like. “Thanks for sharing, bud.”
Topper gives a somber nod. “Yeah, sure. Thanks, y’all, for listening.”
Finally, after everyone opened up in some way, I see Garrett looking bored and agitated. I wish that hearing everyone else share their stories would have had some impact on him.
“Garrett?” I ask. “You wanna add anything?”
He shakes his head. “This is all a fucking waste of time. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m only doing this so my parents will get off my back.”
“If you’re not going to have respect for what’s happening in the Circle, then maybe you should turn in for the night,” Rusty says.
Garrett shoots to his feet. “Fine with me. Y’all enjoy your bedtime stories.”
The fire crackles on and the moment passes, but the air never quite settles after that. One by one, everyone decides it’s as good of a time as any to call it a night. Rusty’s chatting with some of the others while Topper and Allie hang back, laughing about something under their breath.
“I’ll walk you back to our spot,” I say to Roxanne as she says goodnight to Allie.
Her eyebrows arch. “Our spot?”
I cringe. How did I let that slip? “I mean, your spot … which happens to be next to mine, I mean, near, because there was no more room in camp.”
Roxanne pauses, glancing around to see that there was plenty of room in the camp. “Right. Not a lot of room out here.”
We walk in silence and stop outside her tent. I should just tell her goodnight, tip my cap and turn my boots back to my own tent, but I linger. She unzips her tent, but turns to me before getting in. Like an idiot, I still half hope she’ll tug me inside with her.
“Thank you for letting Allie and me be a part of this tonight. I’m honored that everyone felt comfortable sharing. Even though I don’t exactly love it out here, I’m happy I came.”
“And you didn’t end up having to wrestle a bear,” I say. Then, because I can’t stop myself, I reach out and tuck a stray piece of blond hair behind her ear.
She laughs, leaning her cheek into my hand. It is the smallest movement, but I feel it in my bones.
“Thank you, also, for what you said about me in the beginning,” she says.
“It was easy to say since it’s true.”
Her mouth opens like she might say something else, but then she touches my arm and ducks inside her tent.
I stand there a long minute after the flap falls shut. I wished to hell I was a braver man, or a dumber one, who could tell her what’s eating me alive. Instead, I turn back toward my own tent, alone under a sky so wide and dark it could swallow me whole.