Chapter 22
Boom and Rescue
Austin
The night still smelled like smoke. Smoke was funny that way. It stayed with you long after the air cleared. Every time I inhaled, my breath caught, ending in a coughing fit, my lungs still fighting for air.
The winter barn was still steaming. Timbers blackened and bowed, the weathervane twisted from the heat.
Closing my eyes, I turned my face toward the night, feeling the cool bite of the air.
Water hit my face—mist from the fire hoses—but when I opened my eyes, snow was falling.
Little drifting flakes in the ever-changing Montana weather.
The heat kept the flakes from landing, so they hovered, melting before they touched.
Palmer’s men had strung tape around the site.
Red and blue lights blinked over the pasture, catching on their coats and washing Milly and the others in color.
Cassie had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and slippers on her feet, while Sue was a commanding force.
Mason and Levi dragged hoses through the mud, wrapping them up as part of the volunteer fire department.
Everwood moved in sync, muscle memory born of a thousand small rescues.
I should have been moving too, helping, but I couldn’t. My legs were still shaking. The adrenaline had burned off, and what remained was the tremor under my skin—the ghost of motion. My body hadn’t realized it was over.
Every few seconds, my mind replayed the same frame: the loud crack of wood, the roof coming down, flames roaring inward, Milly’s silhouette disappearing behind that orange glow.
The sound it made. My heart shuddered. It was the same sound a helicopter rotor makes when it loses lift. I knew that noise all too well.
Afghanistan. A valley carved from dirt and rock.
Our bird went down two klicks from the ridge.
I was the second one out. My rope line melted from the engine fire.
The pilot was already screaming when we hit the ground.
I remember Meyers’ voice, and the smell.
The same bitter mix of oil and heat. I took a shaking breath, remembering it all.
I remember the way the world tilted, how I grabbed the med kit and didn’t think twice.
I’d saved three that night. The fourth had been Meyers.
I’d gone back for him because that’s what you do.
You watch each other’s backs and never leave a man behind.
You go back until you can’t. When I went back, the flames had grown, and I couldn’t tell the plane frame from the fire.
Then the roof of the cockpit caved as I reached for him.
I still can feel the heat that rolled out, the sound it made when the air hit the fuel tank.
The blast threw me clear. Everyone called it survival instinct. I called it cowardice for years after.
Command said it was a mechanical failure.
I didn’t argue. But I left the service at the end of my term.
That night, in the infirmary with blistered lungs and one man short, I couldn’t sleep.
I’ve blamed myself for his death and still do.
I never told them I still hear him sometimes in the dark, but Reaper knew. He’d been there that night.
The fire tonight had smelled the same. Oil and gas. It burned my lungs just the same.
The only difference was, this time, I didn’t pause. I wasn’t going to. Not when it came to Milly.
The barn was gone now, only the hiss of cooling embers.
The snow fell heavier, reflecting the strobes in dull streaks of pink and blue.
Milly sat on Mason’s tailgate, wrapped in a blanket, hair damp from the hose mist and melting snow.
When her eyes found mine, she gave me a tiny nod.
It wasn’t big, just acknowledging that we’d survived. I’m here. You’re here. We made it.
That look clenched my heart when I thought back to how I could have lost her.
Palmer walked over, rubbing soot from his cheek. “Both Thomases are in custody. Arnie was waiting on the county road with the engine running. Said he thought he was just picking Harold up for a drive.”
“He’ll have time to rethink that,” I said. “Reaper’s data packet came through, bank transfers, burner calls, messages. Enough to nail them both.”
Palmer grunted. “You and that spook friend of yours. Almost feel unneeded.” He eyed me. “You did good tonight, son. Stupid, but good.”
I grunted. “Don’t I know it.”
He clapped me on the shoulder, then walked off. I caught my reflection in the cruiser window: black soot smeared on my face, eyes tired. Beneath the grime, a cut along my jaw, barely visible.
A medic passed, pressing a bottle of water into my hand. “Drink. You’re still pink around the ears.”
I nodded and swallowed half the bottle. It tasted a little like the ash I’d just been breathing.
When I looked up again, Milly had jumped off the tailgate. She walked toward me, a little limp in her gait, her blanket trailing behind her through the wet grass. The sight of her upright and moving was a relief.
She reached me near the cruiser and stopped within arm’s reach, her eyes rimmed red from smoke. “I thought you were gone.”
A breeze blew the snow in swirls. We stood there until almost everyone left. Then we walked back toward the porch together.
The boards creaked under our boots. Snow was already sticking to the ground, reclaiming what the fire hadn’t.
I sank onto the porch swing, elbows on my knees, and exhaled until my chest stopped shuddering.
Milly stayed standing a moment, then eased down beside me, tucking a corner of the blanket over my shoulders.
“You scared me,” she said.
“You think you didn’t do the same?”
Her laugh came out thin but real. “I wasn’t the one sprinting into a burning building.”
“No. You were the one keeping a maniac talking long enough for me to find you. That takes guts.”
“I thought I’d lost you.” Her voice cracked, and my heart broke a little. I thought I’d lost her too, but that only made me realize how much I loved her. It fueled me even more. Milly had become my world, and I wasn’t going to let her go. Not without a fight.
“You didn’t,” I said. “Just a little singed.”
Her shoulders dropped, and the blanket slipped a little. “You scared me.”
“I know.”
Her mouth twitched. “I feel guilty for getting caught, tied up, and almost killing you in the process.” Her eyes filled.
I brushed a thumb across her cheek, smearing a line of soot. “You just survived a fire and a lunatic. You survived. You have nothing to feel guilty about. I’m still here, and you’re alive.”
The horizon was starting to bleed pale gold behind the mountains. Light touched the snow, turning it into a field of glitter. The barn’s ruins stood as a reminder of the night.
Milly leaned her head against my shoulder.
“Do you ever wonder why Penny trusted us with all this?” she asked.
“All the time,” I said. “Maybe she knew we’d need it.”
“I think she was meddling,” Milly murmured.
“She probably was, but you have to admit, she was right about most things,” I said. “Including us.”
The last fire truck and ambulance pulled away, tires crunching over gravel and snow.
Sue handed us two mugs. “Hot chocolate.” Her smile shifted.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” There was a raspiness in her voice.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to leave you two alone now.
If you need me, you know where to find me.
” She got in her car and followed the ambulance.
Milly took a small sip, eyes on the north field. “It doesn’t even look real,” she whispered.
“It’s just wood,” I said. “The heart of this place is still standing.”
She turned, searching my face. “The clinic?”
“You.” I kissed her forehead.
She closed her eyes for a beat. I could almost feel her prayer thread into my heart.
Levi jogged up the hill, cheeks pink with cold. “Palmer’s going to check a few things, but says things are all tied up for now. If you need anything, holler.” He saluted, then left, with Mason right behind.
When they drove off, it all seemed so surreal. Sherlock bleated in the distance, and the horses had finally settled down. Inspector appeared on the porch rail, whiskers twitching, tail a metronome. Milly reached up and scratched behind his ear.
Milly laughed, soft and shaky.
SHe looked like a wreck. A beautiful wreck. And I was all hers.
“Browne called earlier. He’s on his way,” I said. “We’ll give him the statement. Then you’re resting. No debate.”
“I’m not the one who ran through fire twice.”
“You’re the one I’d do it for again.”
Her voice was low and didn’t sound brave. It felt inevitable. My throat closed, like my body was trying to hold my heart in place, and for a second, I couldn’t tell if the shaking in me was from the cold, shock, or the sheer fact that she meant it.
For one heartbeat, everything stilled.
The night’s heat still clung to me—smoke, snow, and stubborn survival baked into my skin. And in Milly’s eyes, I saw it: the fact that I’d walked into the fire twice and still ended up here, steadying myself. Milly had already claimed my heart. I loved her.
“I know,” she whispered. “I love you too.”
A car rolled up the drive. Browne’s SUV stopped behind Palmer’s cruiser. He stepped out in his tweed coat, briefcase swinging at his side, hair wild. He looked like he’d been dragged out of a warm bed because of this. I knew Palmer had called him earlier.
“Miss Thomas, Mr. Adams,” he greeted, his voice gravelly. His gaze swept the ruins. “Thank heaven you’re both unharmed.”
“Thanks,” Milly said, smiling.
“The Thomases are in custody,” Browne said. “Between Sheriff Palmer and your friend Reaper, the evidence looks ironclad. The DA will have an easy time of it. Penny’s estate is secure, and your holdings are intact.”
He looked toward the field again. “A pity about the barn. Your aunt kept saying she’d mend it come spring. Of course, she’d said that for years.”
“She won’t have to,” Milly said softly. “We’ll rebuild.”