31. Ian
THIRTY-ONE
IAN
I have never seen so many American flags in my life.
Maple Street teems with red, white, and blue. Sunshine’s residents are decked out in everything from Captain America shirts to striped Uncle Sam top hats. I passed one storefront stuffed with so much patriotic merch my eyes watered.
Was that a hyper-American Gandalf doll in there?
It’s over the top, but it’s actually kind of fun. Durango had big celebrations, too, but I was usually booked for private guides over the holiday. I can’t remember the last time I participated in a small-town Independence Day festival like this.
The day is clear, and the top of McKenzie peak is visible in the distance. That mountaintop calls me. Hard to believe I’ve been here four months and haven’t explored the closest mountains. Honestly, I’ve barely explored my own neighborhood. Maybe it’s time to change that.
But first, I have an urge for something sweet.
I weave through the farmers market aisles, not fully registering the handmade goods laid out at each booth. I’m on a mission to find one particular food cart helmed by one particular woman. Until then, nothing else can hold my attention.
Finally, I spot her. Tess and her sister are stationed at a red cart topped by a big glass display loaded with cupcakes and hand pies. She’s talking with a customer and slipping treats into paper boxes, smiling the whole time. Her red-and-white striped shirt and dark blue shorts make her look like a flag. I have never wanted to salute anything more.
It’s a warm day, but now all the heat around me seems to coalesce behind my ribs. My angel glows in the sunlight, a vision I can’t stop staring at. I move closer without thinking. I’m a thirsty man crawling across the desert, drawn to the shimmering oasis before me.
August appears from behind the cart, wearing a shirt with the grumpy patriotic Muppet on it, waving glow sticks around. Glad to see he’s feeling like himself again after the stomach bug. I stopped by yesterday to make sure he was on the upswing. Not because Tess can’t handle his diabetes—just like August manages his pump on his own, she didn’t really need me there, even in the worst of it.
Nope, I checked in for my own peace of mind. I needed to see his little smile and verify for myself she was holding up okay. I didn’t stay long, just reiterated I was there for them if they needed me. Still am.
August catches sight of me and grins. “Ian!”
Tess looks around. When our gazes meet, she shines like she’s made of sunbeams. Having that effect on her doesn’t seem real. I want to see her shine like this every day.
“You made it.” Her gaze drifts over me, her smile cranking up a few more degrees when she spots my shorts.
What can I say? It’s a hot day.
Even hotter when she watches me like this.
Her sister waves a hand my direction. “Avast there, Ian!”
Tess’s eyes go wide, and she purses her lips as though she’s struggling not to scold her. Wren’s smug smile makes me want to know what all she’s heard about me. Clearly, pirates are a theme.
“Ahoy,” I say, keeping my gaze on Tess.
Wren cackles and helps the next person in line, ignoring the withering side-eye Tess shoots her way.
August comes up right in front of me. “Ian, did you see the parade? And the horses? And the fire truck?”
“I missed it, buddy.” I know my limits. Tess told me her mom would be with August at the parade while she and her sister prepared for the festival, cutting my incentive to attend in half.
He slips his hand in mine. “Next year, you have to come and sit with us.”
I glance back to Tess. “Next year, I will.”
“Do you want to?—”
“Thank you for your service.”
It takes me a second to realize an older man in line for pies is talking to me. When I meet his gaze, he salutes.
My good humor for the morning winks out. Why do they always make this assumption, like everyone who’s lost a limb is Lieutenant Dan home from Vietnam? They offer me a moment of respect and recognition I don’t deserve. “Thanks, I crashed my motorcycle” tends to kill their gratitude.
“I didn’t serve,” I say coolly. I was never that selfless.
“Oh.” His gaze drops back to my leg as if he needs to make sure I’ve still got the prosthesis. “Then how’d you lose it?”
He manages to make it sound like negligence, as if I set my old leg down somewhere and forgot about it. As if it was entirely my fault. Which it absolutely was.
I have no desire to talk about one of the worst days of my life with him, but he’s eagerly watching me, waiting for the whole bloody story.
And this is why I stopped wearing shorts in public.
Tess makes a sound of disgust. “Really, Mr. Miller? You’re going to ask him that without even saying hello or asking his name?”
The man looks at her as if she’s speaking nonsense. “It’s a fair question.”
“It’s genuinely not. You’re asking a stranger personal questions. It’s rude.”
I’m used to Tess’s sweet, soft side, but this spitfire? I like her.
He looks around as if searching for back up, but the other people in line don’t make eye contact with him. “Guy lost his leg, it’s natural to ask why. Was it an accident, infection, what?”
Tess frowns harder at his eager fishing attempt.
He waggles a finger between the two of us, eyes widening as though he’s caught onto something. “Diabetes, maybe?”
She takes me by the hand, glaring at the man as if she wants to set him on fire. “Maybe you should ask yourself why you’re so focused on what he’s missing. Personally, I think he’s pretty fantastic just the way he is.”
Oh, okay. It’s me she’s setting on fire. Just like her impulsive kiss the other night, this side of her is unexpected but suits her exactly right. I don’t need her defending me any more than she needs me to tell her what to do about August’s diabetes. But her standing up for me, being here for me, means everything.
“Wren, I’m taking a break.” She pulls me away from the cart, and August trots along on my other side, still holding my hand.
“You got it!” Wren shouts from behind us.
The three of us walk through the market in a little chain. I’m not sure where Tess is taking us, but I suspect she just needed to get away. I’ve been there.
August lets me go and cuts in front of Tess.
“Mama, can I?” He points at a face painting booth.
“Sure, buddy.” She waves him along to get in the short line. Her attention stays focused on him, but I’ve seen this move before.
I lean closer to her. “Are we going to talk about how you ripped that guy a new one?”
She laughs but finally meets my gaze. “I know you’re more than capable of defending yourself, but I have some experience with Mr. Miller. He would have asked a hundred invasive questions before tiring out.”
“He’s bothered you before?”
She gestures at August, happily waiting in line. “When we first got his monitor and insulin pump. The man’s morbid curiosity knows no bounds.”
I’d ask for specifics, but I doubt it would douse the protectiveness simmering inside me. “I might head back over to the cart and have a talk with him myself.”
She pulls me closer, her free hand wrapping around my biceps, trying not to smile. “I think he’s had enough for now.”
“If it’s any consolation, you’re breathtaking when you’re furious.” My avenging angel, ready to cut somebody.
Her tiny smile has a hint of mischief to it. “Should I ready the CPR?”
I lean even closer, loving her flirtatious side. “Please.”
She laughs but focuses on August. “Oh, no.”
I turn to catch what’s got her so dismayed, but it doesn’t take much investigation. August’s sitting in the face painting chair being made to look like a pirate. He’s got a painted-on red bandana with a skull and crossbones in the middle, various scars on each cheek, and is currently getting a beard and mustache dabbed on.
“I might have talked about pirates too fondly.” She side-eyes me. “He asked me yesterday if his hair is long enough for a ‘man bunny.’”
“Not thrilled about the bunny, but I’m taking that as a compliment.”
“I thought you might.”
August slides off the camp chair and rushes over to us. “Isn’t it great, Mama?”
“You’re the cutest little pirate.”
I pay the face painter, ignoring Tess’s attempts to scowl at me. It’s a few dollars for some fun, what’s the big deal?
A firetruck honks its horn as it pulls up the alley not far away from us. Kids stream forward to get a better look, and a few firefighters hop off the back, presumably to entertain their questions.
August’s gasp is almost as loud as the firetruck’s horn. “Mama! Can we go?”
“I know how much you want to, buddy, but I can’t leave Aunt Wren to handle the customers alone.” She turns to me. “I’m sorry we can’t spend the afternoon together.”
“I understand.” She has a job to do, and I don’t want to get in the way. “I can take August to see the fire truck.”
August squeezes my hand again. “I’m ready!”
Of course he is.
Tess only pauses a second. “Okay. Sure.”
August’s happy squeals make my day. Yeah, they’re mostly for the fire truck, but I’m coming to the rescue, too.
She pulls his monitor phone from her pocket and passes it to me. “You know what to do.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
She rolls her eyes, but her smile peeks out. “You might be getting more than you bargained for. August will probably want to stay with the fire truck until it drives away again.”
“I can be patient.” A total sham, since all my willpower is focused on not tugging this gorgeous woman into my arms right now and kissing her in front of everyone she knows.
Climbing mountains takes a lot of self discipline, but she’s testing me like nothing else ever has.
“I appreciate that about you.” Her soft little eyelash flutter kills me.
I die even more when she releases my hand and starts to back away.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I just nod her along, my resolve fraying when she uses that hushed voice. She gets about ten feet away from us and pauses to turn back. She holds my gaze, breaking out a secret smile just for me. That smile is a lit match to the tinder in my chest, making it burn white-hot.
August tugs on my hand. “Aren’t we ready?”
I pull my attention from Tess walking away and look down at him. With his painted-on pirate persona, he looks like he might call me a scurvy landlubber if I don’t hurry. I love it. I still opt to play dumb, though. “Was there something around here you wanted to see?”
“The fire truck!” He tugs with all his might.
I let him drag me along to where the firemen and firewoman are showing kids—and a couple of curious adults—around the big, red truck. We’re within a few feet of it when I recognize one of the firefighters. Nathan Bridger, my enthusiastic job recruiter from the diner a few weeks ago.
“Can I go look at the truck?” August asks.
“Stay where I can see you.”
Whoa. Having serious déjà vu to my childhood right now.
He runs off to join the kids listening to a discussion about the fire hose. Nathan comes forward, hand outstretched. I shake it, the reminder of my unfriendly behavior the other night sitting like gravel in my stomach. If he’s concerned about that, his wide grin doesn’t show it.
“Good to see you out here,” he says. “Did you catch the parade?”
I’m guessing they were in that, too. “Missed it.”
“There’s always next year.” He leans back, glancing me over. “You look different. Can’t put my finger on it.”
“Had a little makeover.” Long overdue.
“That’s not it.” Good grief, this man’s eyes shine like he’s perpetually up to something. “You’re smiling.”
“Am I?” Pretty sure I’m not.
“Not now,” he concedes. “But a minute ago, yeah. I’d have sworn you were happy.”
“All right. I get it.” I am happy. Sad that it’s such a big change-up even this ball of chaotic energy can see the difference.
“I’m here for it, is all I’m saying.” He nods August’s way. “I know who his mom is. I ship it.”
“What does that mean?” I don’t manage to make the question sound casual. If it means something about how attractive Tess is, we’re going to have a talk he won’t enjoy.
He chuckles. “It means I can see you two together. Geez, you really are a dinosaur.”
“Thank you. So glad I came over here.”
If anything, he laughs harder. “You know, we just opened up two firefighter paramedic positions. It’s a satisfying gig. Helping people. Being part of a team. Rising to unexpected challenges. And the schedule’s good. Two days on, four off.”
Sounds better than some of my guiding trips where I could be on for eight days at a time, sometimes under grueling conditions. And clearly, I’d have a fan in August if I decided to try my hand at firefighting.
Except…what am I doing? Nathan’s got me thinking about another potential job?
“How many jobs do you have?” I ask.
“Just the two. I’m not part of the permanent team for Backcountry EMT, only special events.”
“I don’t know if something like that’s for me.” I don’t know what’s for me anymore, and I sure can’t figure it out in the middle of this festival.
“Ian, look at me!” August waves from the passenger seat of the fire truck, an oversized helmet on his head.
“Looking good, buddy,” I call back. I whip out my phone to take a picture of him up there and text it to Tess.
“There it is again,” Nathan says.
He’s legitimately gloating. If he thinks this kind of crowing is a good pitch for me to become his coworker, he can think again. I wipe my face free of the smile August brought out. But he waves again, and he’s so happy sitting up there, I can’t help but smile back.
Nathan slaps me on the shoulder, a self-congratulatory grin stretched across his own face. “Good to see you again. Let me know if anything changes. My drinks invite still stands.”
“Got it.” His constant enthusiasm is insufferable. But…not all that different from how I acted at his age. Maybe even more recently than that. “I’ll think about it.”
Nathan walks away to command the attention of some kids at the back of the truck. “How tall is our ladder? I’m glad you asked.”
I shake my head at his ridiculousness, but I can’t deny his audience is loving it.
August listens to talks about the firetruck’s knobs and dials, safety gear, and how fast it can go in an emergency. When he’s touched every part of the truck he can reach and asked every last question in his head, he finally returns to me.
Good. I don’t know if I would have had the heart to tear him away from the fun.
“Did you see me, Ian?” he says, taking my hand again.
“I saw it. You looked good up there.” I turn us to head back through the market to the bakery cart.
“Can I be a firefighter when I grow up?”
“Sure.”
“Could I drive the fire truck?”
“I bet you could if you’re a good driver.” Weird to imagine him as anything other than the innocent five-year-old he is now. Why does that make my heart ache so much? Did I become Pierce when I wasn’t looking?
“Will they let me take it home?” he asks.
“I think fire trucks have to stay at the fire station.”
Some of his enthusiasm fades, but then immediately perks back up. “I’ll live at the fire station, too, so that’s okay.”
“Glad that’s settled.”
At the bakery cart, August runs up to Tess. “Can I get my snacks?”
“You know where they are.” She waves at a small cooler tucked behind the cart. He roots around until he finds a cheese stick and a yogurt cup. He sits in a small camp chair they must have brought just for him, and digs in.
“I could watch him until you’re done here, if that’s easier for you,” I tell her. Maybe take him to the park I saw when I was doing laps downtown, who knows.
Her bright smile kills me every time. “That’s sweet, but my mom’s got their afternoon planned out. Wren and I will take over in the store when the market ends in another hour.”
“No problem.” The small, sinking sensation in my chest says I’m disappointed, though.
She leans closer to me. “You’re coming with us to watch the fireworks tonight, right? I have it on good authority it’s going to be memorable.”
With Tess, anything would be.
“I won’t miss it.”
And won’t be able to think about anything else the rest of the day.