Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
W hen it came to fires, there was no fixed timeline on how long it could take to put it out. Worse when trees were involved. The minute they showed up at the campground, Rafferty knew they’d be out there for days. The fires he’d fought in New York were different, contained within abandoned warehouses and homes on busy streets. He rarely went into the woods with the crew, so he’d never been in a situation like that before.
It was terrifying.
He’d called Mack on his way to find out if he could pick up Cal and keep him for a few days. His new friend agreed without hesitation. Sitting in the truck in his turnout gear on the drive to the campground, he thought about Daisy. How scared she’d looked when he mentioned that he was a firefighter, the wobble in her voice when she said Come back to me . He wanted nothing more than to assure her he’d be okay and go back to her, but knew that it was a promise he couldn’t keep. Especially since it was one of the most dangerous jobs in the world.
The Allenwood department was in charge of containing the fire at the campground while they waited for the Hotshots to arrive. Having grown up in a concrete jungle, he’d never even considered any other form of firefighting until he signed up. Now, he thought the Hotshots had the best and scariest job—after all, they were trained to handle the worst kinds of fire and were also wild land experts. Unfortunately there wasn’t a permanent crew in the state and they had to fly out from wherever they were at any given moment.
They did everything possible to not let it get completely out of control, but the fire didn’t care for their efforts. By the time the Hotshots arrived, a huge section of trees had already collapsed and the Allenwood crew was still working to put out the campground flames. As much as he wanted to watch them work, Rafferty and his team had more than enough keeping them busy. Especially when the cabins started collapsing.
By the time they were done, he’d lost track of how long they’d been out there. He knew, in the back of his mind, that Daisy would be panicking and worrying about him. But he couldn’t get to his phone to assure her that he was okay. She’d been like that as a kid and something told him that part of her hadn’t changed. During 9/11, when the phone lines were down and every station was delivering the same information, she took it upon herself to get more news. Needing to know everything was one of his favorite things about her, until it made her so anxious she couldn’t calm down.
Once the campground had been cleared out and the source of the fire had been discovered, the Allenwood crew was dismissed. The Hotshots were still working in the forest and had it mostly contained. It had been seventy-two hours of no sleep when they finally pulled up at the firehouse and he could feel the exhaustion set into his bones as he washed off the three days. After a debrief and a late lunch, Rafferty drove to Mack’s house and picked up Cal, who was sad about not being able to spend more time with his best friend.
“So you didn’t put out the forest fire?” Cal asked. He’d been full of questions once they got home and hadn’t run out of them yet.
“There are other crews for that. Remember Tony? He was a Hotshot.”
“Was Tony there?”
“No,” he said with a soft chuckle. “He retired a few years ago.”
“That’s so cool.”
He smiled and watched his son who was so focused on the video game he was playing. He tried not to order in too much, but exhaustion made it almost impossible to cook anything then, so he called for pizza. The box was lying open on the coffee table, crumbs all over the front of Cal’s shirt, but his attention didn’t move from the television until he lost another life.
“Were you scared?” he asked softly, shifting on the couch to face Rafferty.
“At first, yeah. When we got there, it was shocking to see. But then I remembered my training and pushed the fear away.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“A few people. Light burns, but maybe more psychological trauma.”
“What is psychological trauma?”
He sighed at the question, but smiled at his son’s eagerness to know everything. “Psychological trauma is what happens to a person when they’ve been in a difficult situation or something scary, like a fire. Remember Poppy talking about his time in the war and how he still had nightmares?” At his son’s dumbstruck nod, Rafferty continued, “That’s psychological trauma. There are different types and it affects people in various ways. But therapy helps a lot.”
“Is trauma why I have to go to sessions with Miss Rhiannon?”
Oof. I walked into that one.
“Yes and no. A lot of things have happened in your life, right? After Nonna and Poppy died, you were sad a lot and then you were having trouble at school. That’s a certain kind of trauma and it was changing your life in ways that you couldn’t control. Right?” Cal nodded, eyes watery. “But is therapy helping?”
“I like Miss Rhiannon. She’s funny. She also said that it’s not my fault that everyone is laughing at me. It’s their problem. But I’m not allowed to say that to them.”
He smiled and kissed the top of his son’s head. “It is their problem and I’m glad you like her.”
“The others at school don’t bother me anymore anyway. They’re afraid of Indigo.”
“Does Indigo scare you?”
Cal shook his head, tears forgotten as he smiled wide. “Indigo is my best friend. They make me feel safe and happy.”
He couldn’t even hide the reaction or ignore the way his heart clenched. He blamed exhaustion and lack of sleep on the tears that filled his eyes.
“Like Miss Daisy did for you.”
He tilted his head. “Who told you that?”
“Nonna. She said that everywhere Miss Daisy went, you also did. And visa visa.”
“Vice versa,” he corrected his son who shrugged and reached for another slice of pizza.
At that point, he was sure Cal had eaten the entire pie and he couldn’t even be upset about it. He sent him to wash up and relaxed into the couch, his mind wandering to Daisy. His son was right, she had made him feel safe and happy even when she hadn’t felt those things herself. He could see the different versions of her—the shy little girl, the teenager he fell in love with and the woman she was now—and was so grateful that he had stuck to all the promises he made about always finding his way back to her.
“I’m glad you came home, Dad.”
“I said I would be home.”
Cal wiped his hands on his shorts. “But you said we’re never meant to promise that.”
This kid was too smart for his own good. “I know. I don’t make promises out loud, but I do to myself.”
“Did you make Miss Daisy any promises?”
“What is going on with you and all these questions?”
“You said I should be curious!” Cal stomped one foot, startling Boots.
Chuckling, he tucked him into his side and kissed the top of his head, “I did make promises to her too. Because she was also scared and I didn’t want her to worry.”
They sat in silence for a while before Cal spoke up again. “What is your favorite thing about fires, Dad?”
The question caught him off guard, he stared blankly at the television for a moment. He’d never thought about his favorite thing about fires, because the first glance always scared him before he was in firefighter mode. He’d never even been asked such a question before, even when he’d done all his research, learning about fires and the science behind it.
“I don’t know. Maybe how powerful it is and we don’t fully understand it even after all these years.”
“My favorite thing is how beautiful it looks,” Cal said very simply.
“It is very beautiful.”
His son nodded and they settled back into silence again. When he felt Cal’s body go limp beside him, Rafferty turned off the television and carried his son upstairs. He tucked him into bed and kissed the top of Boots’s head before heading back downstairs. He grabbed his phone and contemplated texting her, but then changed his mind and called her instead.
He startled awake to the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway. He rubbed his face and checked the time—it had been an hour since he called her—before stepping out onto the porch as a goddess stepped out of the car. She was bathed in gold, the streetlights making her sparkle. She said something to the driver and with a large duffel bag in one hand, started towards him. He didn’t know what she was wearing, but it was wrapped around her body, framing her hips and waist, a portion of it draped over her shoulder. He rubbed his eyes again, like that would convince him this was real.
Nothing could explain why or how Daisy Heroux looked like something out of a dream.
He opened his mouth to ask what she was wearing, to say something romantic about how beautiful she looked, but she was rushing up the stairs. The bag dropped as she practically launched herself at him and he stumbled back a few steps before sliding his arms around her waist. Her hands were on the back of his head, fingers pressing through his long hair to hold him as he willed himself not to lose control of his bodily reactions to her.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said, warm breath brushing against his skin and after a gentle squeeze of his neck, she pulled away.
“You really didn’t have to leave the wedding, Hero.”
“The wedding was over anyway. Did I wake you up?”
He shook his head and grabbed her bag. “Have you eaten?”
“Pie, mostly.”
“I’ll make you something.”
The nap had given him enough energy to cook, especially now that he was also starting to get hungry. He led the way inside and set her bag at the head of the hallway.
“Nice place.”
“Thanks.” He watched as she took in the place. It wasn’t much, but it served its purpose with a large main space that he used for the living and dining rooms, as well as the open plan kitchen. The patio stretched around the entire house, leading into a garden in the back. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms were down the hall, which ended in his office. They’d been there for six weeks and it already looked like they’d been living there for years.
The sound of nails on the floor drew her attention to the side and Boots froze mid-step, eyes fixed on the newcomer in gold. Rafferty wondered if that’s how he’d been looking at her too, because once you laid eyes on her, it was impossible to look away. It was like looking at the sun, without hurting yourself.
Daisy’s eyes widened as she took in his large furry horse of a dog. Most adults were startled by his size and their reactions were always so amusing. “There’s a bear in your house, Raff,” she whispered.
“That’s Boots.”
“From the shelter, I remember.” She kept her voice light and squatted, holding a hand out. He forgot that Cal had announced at the ice cream shop about their dog. “He’s beautiful.”
So are you , he thought to himself and watched as Boots took tentative steps towards her, his tail wagging slowly. She cooed at him, offering him that dazzling smile and he saw the moment his dog fell in love with her. He sniffed her fingers, nuzzled against her palm and was seconds away from sitting in her lap. She laughed and ruffled his fur instead, kissing his forehead and his dog seemed to melt.
Or maybe Rafferty was melting and he was projecting.
“Aw, he likes me.”
“Of course he does.” She scoffed and he chuckled. “I always said you were likable. You never believed it.”
“ Whatever . You said something about food?” She booped Boots’s nose and joined him in the kitchen. He opened a few cabinets until he found what he was looking for and held up the box of mac and cheese. “For old time’s sake?”
“Toss some bacon in there and absolutely.”
“Want anything to drink?”
“What are you drinking?”
“After Cal was born, I cut back. I do drink, only when the occasion calls for it.”
“Water’s fine,” she replied quickly.
“This seems like a good occasion,” he countered.
“Only if you’re sure.”
Instead of replying, he handed her two bottles of beer and pointed at the drawer with the opener. Then got down to making their dinner. Ever since they reconnected, all of the best memories kept flooding back. He tried to rein them in, because he didn’t want to assume that what he felt seeing her again was exactly how she felt as well. As he started on the macaroni, his brain played the greatest hits—two of them in Nonna’s kitchen, making mac and cheese during a thunderstorm while his grandparents were in bed; Daisy climbing onto the counter to reach the tin of cookies his father had hidden from them; late night snacking when neither of them could sleep.
“Remember that time we almost burned down the kitchen attempting to make steak?” she asked, sliding a beer to him.
“The time you almost burned down the kitchen.”
She gasped. “You were the older one and supposed to be responsible!”
“Nobody told me that. I was invited for a steak dinner and ended up eating pizza,” he said with faux disappointment.
“You’re the worst.”
He chuckled and started on the bacon. “I do remember the cake adventure. Might be our most successful experiment.”
“It tasted pretty good, even though it was still quite soft in the middle.”
“I’m certain Nonna and Poppy spent the next day hunched over the toilet.”
She giggled. “We did warn them that one piece per person was enough.”
“They were dedicated to being proud of us.”
There was a moment of silence before she softly said, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when they passed, Raff.”
He turned to see that she had climbed onto the counter, hair tumbling over one shoulder. She took his breath away, but her expression made him sigh. “You never have to apologize for that, okay? Things happen. They understood that too.”
“I didn’t even know until afterwards, when Dad called.”
“It was quite sudden,” he admitted. They’d been getting on in age and while there were no serious illnesses, something tipped the scales. First Poppy, then six months later, Nonna. It was a shock, but knowing they didn’t have to live long without each other seemed to make everything a little better. “But they knew how much you loved them. That’s what matters.”
She nodded, eyes downcast as she picked at the label on her bottle, tears sliding down her face. He lowered the flame on the pasta and stepped in front of her. Sliding a finger under her chin, he tipped her head up and smiled when their eyes met.
“Do not feel guilty for not being there, okay? Your dad sent regular updates about your life. They got to see you grow into the beautiful woman you are today. Nonna talked about you all the time and she was so proud of you. None of us could have predicted when they’d go, but they were both happy at the end.”
She sniffled and nodded. He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks to wipe away the tears and realized how close they were standing. The caramel swirls in her eyes were hypnotizing and the softness of her mouth tempting, but he caught himself before he did something stupid like kiss her.
“You ready to eat?”
“Yes,” she whispered and after a long moment of staring into her eyes, he stepped back and served the food.