Chapter 6 - Lewis
I can't stop staring at her. It's ridiculous, I know.
I should give her space, let her eat the breakfast the nurse just brought in, maybe step out and call Ollis to let him know she's awake and doing well.
But there's something about the way the morning light catches in her dark hair, the quiet determination in her eyes as she tackles the unappetizing hospital oatmeal—I can't look away.
"Is it that bad?" I ask when she makes a face at the food.
Chloe looks up, a wry smile playing at her lips. "I've had better. But considering twenty-four hours ago, I wasn't sure I'd ever eat again, I'm not complaining."
Her candor hits me in the chest. We haven't really talked about that part yet—how close we came to not making it out.
The image of her unconscious in my arms flashes through my mind, her face pale beneath the soot, her body limp.
I've never been so afraid in my life, and I've faced down plenty of fires.
"You okay?" she asks, her expression softening. "You went somewhere else for a second there."
I shake myself back to the present. "Sorry. Just thinking."
"About the fire?" She's perceptive, this woman.
"Yeah," I admit. "About how close it was."
Chloe sets down her spoon. "But we made it. Thanks to you."
"Thanks to my team," I correct. "I just found you. They got us out."
"After you kept me alive long enough for them to find us," she insists. "Don't sell yourself short, Lewis. You saved my life."
There's a warmth in the way she says my name that does something to my insides. I've never been good at accepting praise—it makes me uncomfortable, especially when I'm just doing my job. But her gratitude feels different, somehow. More personal.
"Anyway," I say, clearing my throat, "what matters is you're going to be fine. And we need to figure out our next steps."
"Our next steps?" she echoes, raising an eyebrow in a way that's both challenging and playful.
"Your next steps," I amend, feeling my face heat slightly. "Getting you settled somewhere safe while you recover, figuring out your options for a new office space, that kind of thing."
Chloe's expression turns thoughtful. "I should call my insurance company. And I need to get in touch with Mrs. Finch—my landlord. I'm supposed to start paying rent this week." She sighs, pushing away the half-eaten breakfast. "I had everything so carefully planned, you know? And now..."
"Now you adapt," I say firmly. "Plans change. It's what you do next that matters."
She studies me for a moment, then smiles. "You sound like you've had some experience with that."
"A lifetime of it," I admit. "I'm not exactly known for my stellar planning skills. Just ask Ollis."
"Your brother, right? The one who became a firefighter first?"
I nod, touched that she remembers this detail from our conversation in the fire. "Yeah. He's the responsible one. I'm the one who changes direction with the wind."
"And yet you've been a firefighter for how long?" she asks.
"Six years," I say.
"That doesn't sound like someone who changes direction with the wind," she points out. "That sounds like commitment to me."
Her observation catches me off guard. I've never really thought about it that way.
In my family, Ollis was always the dependable one, the one who knew what he wanted and went after it with single-minded focus.
I was the one who drifted from interest to interest, never quite settling.
But she's right—I've been with the department for six years now, longer than I've stuck with anything else in my life.
"Maybe you're onto something," I concede.
Before she can respond, there's a knock at the door, and Chief Brock enters, still in uniform. His stern expression softens slightly when he sees Chloe awake and alert.
"Ms. Bennett," he says with a nod. "Good to see you recovering. Mind if I have a word with my firefighter here?"
Chloe glances between us, concern flickering across her face. "Of course not."
I stand, giving her what I hope is a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back."
Chief Brock leads me into the hallway, his expression unreadable. I brace myself for the lecture I know is coming. Going into that building alone, without proper equipment, was against protocol. I don't regret it—not when it means Chloe is alive—but I know the chief has to maintain discipline.
"How's she doing?" he asks, surprising me with the question.
"Good," I say. "Doctor thinks she can be discharged this afternoon."
He nods. "And you? How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, Chief. Really."
He studies me for a moment, then sighs. "You know what you did was reckless."
"I know," I acknowledge. "But I'd do it again."
"That's what I'm afraid of," he says, his voice stern but not unkind. "Look, I can't officially condone what you did. It goes against everything we train for. But I understand that in the moment, you made a call you thought was right."
I appreciate the lack of outright condemnation, even if it's clear he doesn't approve. Chief Brock is a fair man—demanding, exacting in his standards, but fair. He expects the best from his firefighters, but he also understands that we're human.
"So, am I suspended?" I ask, bracing for the worst.
He shakes his head. "Two weeks of desk duty, starting once the doctor clears you to return to work. And you'll be leading three additional training sessions on proper protocol for civilian rescues."
It's a light punishment, all things considered. "Thank you, Chief."
"Don't thank me yet," he warns. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I won't be so lenient. You're a good firefighter, Lewis. One of my best. I'd hate to lose you because you think you're invincible."
The reprimand lands as intended. "Understood."
Chief Brock's expression softens slightly. "Now, with that official business out of the way, how about you introduce me properly to the young lady you risked your career for?"
We re-enter the hospital room to find Chloe sitting straighter in bed, as if preparing for an inspection. The sight makes me smile—she's got spirit, this one.
"Chief Brock, this is Chloe Bennett," I say. "Chloe, this is Fire Chief Brock."
"It's a pleasure to meet you officially, Ms. Bennett," the chief says, extending his hand. "Though I wish it were under better circumstances."
Chloe shakes his hand firmly. "Likewise, Chief. And please, call me Chloe."
"Chloe it is," he agrees. "I understand you're new to Cedar Falls?"
She nods. "Just arrived the day before yesterday. I was planning to open a law practice."
"Was?" the chief questions, echoing my earlier response.
A determined smile crosses her face. "Am. Despite the setback."
Chief Brock nods approvingly. "Good. Cedar Falls could use a good lawyer. And I have a feeling you're resilient enough to bounce back from this."
"I plan to," she says with a confidence that makes me proud, though I have no right to feel that way about someone I barely know.
"Well, if there's anything the department can do to help, don't hesitate to ask," Chief offers. "Cedar Falls takes care of its own."
There it is again—that phrase. Cedar Falls takes care of its own. It's something I've heard countless times, something that made me stay here instead of moving to the city. But seeing how Chloe's expression softens at the words, I'm reminded that not everyone comes from places where that's true.
"Thank you," she says, her voice slightly rough with emotion. "Everyone has been so kind."
Chief Brock nods, then turns to me. "I'll expect you back at the station tomorrow for that desk duty we discussed. For now, take care of yourself—and Ms. Bennett."
After he leaves, Chloe turns to me with raised eyebrows. "Desk duty?"
I shrug, trying to play it off. "Standard procedure after an injury."
She looks skeptical. "And does it have anything to do with you running into a burning building without proper equipment?"
"Maybe a little," I admit. "But it's fine. Two weeks pushing papers, leading some training sessions. Could be worse."
Chloe's expression turns serious. "Lewis, I never meant for you to get in trouble because of me."
"Hey," I say, moving to sit on the edge of her bed without thinking. "I made my own choices. And I'd make the same ones again." I pause, then add more softly, "Finding you was worth it."
Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the hospital room falls away. There's just Chloe, looking at me with those expressive eyes, a hint of color rising in her cheeks. I have the sudden, overwhelming urge to touch her face, to see if her skin is as soft as it looks.
Before I can do something impulsive—again—there's another knock at the door. It’s Doctor Aaron again, this time accompanied by Nurse Gladys.
"Ms. Bennett," the doctor says cheerfully, "I'm prescribing some medication for the inflammation in your throat, but you're well enough to finish recovering at home."
Relief washes over Chloe's face. "Thank you, Doctor. When can I leave?"
"As soon as we complete the paperwork," he says. "The nurse will go over your discharge instructions, and then you'll be free to go. Do you have someone to drive you?"
"I'll take her," I say immediately. "My brother dropped off my truck last night."
The doctor nods approvingly. "Good. Ms. Bennett, do you have any questions for me?"
Chloe thinks for a moment. "When can I return to normal activities? I need to start looking for a new office space."
"I'd recommend at least three days of rest," the doctor advises.
"After that, you can gradually resume normal activities, but listen to your body.
If you feel short of breath or experience increased coughing, that's a sign to slow down.
" He smiles kindly. "I know it's frustrating, but the better you recover now, the less likely you are to have lingering issues. "
Chloe nods, though I can see the impatience in her eyes. She strikes me as someone who doesn't like being sidelined.