17. Carla
CHAPTER 17
Carla
T he old wooden boards creaked under my feet as I stepped onto the porch. Eli followed close behind, his presence both comforting and nerve-wracking. As we settled into the quiet evening, I couldn’t help but feel like we were stepping into some kind of liminal space, suspended between our complicated past and an uncertain future. Thanksgiving with his parents had been… well, it wasn’t the most relaxing holiday I’d ever shared.
Eli’s hand brushed my arm, and I followed his pointing finger to where a deer was emerging from the trees behind the yard. My breath caught in my throat. It was such a small thing, but the fact that he wanted to share this moment with me made my heart do a little flip.
“Beautiful,” I whispered, not just meaning the deer.
“Yeah,” Eli murmured, his eyes still on me.
We sat down on the porch swing, the gentle sway slowing the rhythm of my racing pulse. A cool breeze carried the scent of pine, and I pulled my cardigan tighter around my shoulders, trying to ward off a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature.
“Cold?” Eli asked, already starting to shrug off his jacket.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. The last thing I needed was to be enveloped in his scent, his warmth. It would make it even harder to keep my guard up. He laid the jacket over my lap.
As we rocked back and forth, I sneaked glances at Eli’s profile. The strong line of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows—he looked deep in thought. Part of me wanted to reach out and smooth away that worry line, but I kept my hands firmly in my lap, fingering the seams of his jacket.
My mind raced with all the things I wanted to say, all the questions I needed answered. But the weight of our families’ feud, of years of complicated history, seemed to press down on my chest, making it hard to form the words.
So we sat in silence, the only sounds the creaking of the swing and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. It was oddly peaceful, despite the tension thrumming between us. In that moment, I could almost pretend we were just two people enjoying a quiet evening together, with no baggage or expectations.
But reality had a way of creeping in, even in moments like these. As another cool gust of wind swept over us, I couldn’t suppress a small shiver. Eli immediately shifted closer, his warmth radiating against my side.
“You sure you’re not cold?” he asked again, his voice low and gentle.
I turned to look at him, finding his face much closer than I expected. Those dark eyes of his seemed to see right through me, past all my carefully constructed defenses. And just like that, I felt myself start to crumble.
I shook my head, managing a small smile. “I’m fine. Just...” I trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.
I took a deep breath, my gaze drifting back to the dark silhouettes of the trees. “Eli,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are we doing?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him stiffen slightly. “What do you mean?”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to continue. “This... us. Our families. The feud.” The words tumbled out, gaining momentum. “We can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist. That it doesn’t affect everything between us.”
As I spoke, I felt Eli’s eyes on me, intense and unwavering. His expression softened, and without a word, he reached for my hand. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he feared I might pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. The warmth of his fingers intertwined with mine sent a familiar spark through my body, a bittersweet reminder of what we once had – and what we could still have, if only...
His thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand. It was such a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes. Here was the Eli no one else got to see, the one who could make me feel safe and understood with just a touch.
I took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of years of unresolved frustration pressing down on me. “It’s just... do you ever wonder what might have been? If our families weren’t...” I trailed off, unable to find the right words.
“At each other’s throats?” Eli supplied, a hint of his usual humor in his voice. But I could hear the underlying tension, the pain that mirrored my own.
I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. “Yeah. That.” I paused, gathering my courage. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m being torn in two, Eli. I love my family, I do. But loving you...” The words hung in the air between us, heavy with implication.
Eli’s hand tightened around mine, and I could feel him shift closer on the swing. “I know,” he murmured. “Believe me, I know.”
I turned to look at him then, really look at him. In the soft glow of the porch light, I could see the conflict in his dark eyes, the same struggle I felt every day reflected back at me. My heart ached with the familiarity of it all.
“Remember when your dad caught us under the bleachers?” I asked, my voice wavering slightly. “I thought the world was ending. And in a way, I guess it did.”
Eli let out a low chuckle, but there was no real humor in it. “Yeah, that was... Dad went ballistic. I’d never seen him so angry.”
I nodded, feeling the old pain resurface. “My dad wouldn’t even look at me for days. And he still won’t tell me what started all this in the first place.”
As I spoke, I could feel the weight of our shared history pressing down on us. The stolen moments, the secret smiles, the dreams we’d dared to dream – all of it overshadowed by a feud we didn’t understand and couldn’t control.
“Sometimes,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper, “I wonder if it would have been easier if I’d never fallen for you in the first place.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. But Eli just squeezed my hand, his touch a silent reassurance. He understood. Of course he did. He always had.
I turned to look at Eli, half-expecting to see hurt in his eyes. Instead, I found a fierce determination that made my breath catch.
“Carla,” he said, his voice low and intense, “I know this isn’t easy. It’s probably the hardest thing we’ve ever faced. But I believe in us. You’re worth whatever obstacle I have to face. Even if it is my own family.”
His words sent a spark of hope through me, even as my practical side tried to squash it. “How can you be so sure?” I asked, unable to keep the longing out of my voice.
Eli’s lips quirked into that infuriating half-smile I’d always loved. “Because I’m stubborn as a mule, and so are you. And when we put our minds to something...”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “We’re an unstoppable force?”
“Exactly.” He nodded, his eyes twinkling. But then his expression sobered. “Look, I’m not saying it’ll be easy. But I think what we have is worth fighting for.”
As I processed his words, Eli’s gaze drifted to the tree line. His jaw tightened, and I knew he was gearing up to say something difficult.
“The thing is,” he began, his voice hesitant, “it’s not just about our families. I’ve got my own demons to wrestle with.”
I waited, giving him space to continue. Eli rarely opened up like this, and I didn’t want to spook him.
“My dad...” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He’s always expected me to be just like Nathan. The golden boy, you know? And no matter what I do, I can never seem to measure up.”
My heart ached for him. I’d always suspected this, but hearing him admit it was different. “Is that why you became a firefighter?” I asked gently.
Eli nodded. “At first, yeah. I thought maybe if I did something heroic enough, he’d finally see me. He was so proud of Nathan, I thought he’d be proud of me too. But then I realized I actually loved it. The adrenaline, the way it forces you to be present and make decisions in the moment... it’s like nothing else I’ve ever experienced.”
I could see the passion in his eyes as he talked about his work, and it made me fall for him all over again. But there was still a shadow there, a hint of the insecurity he usually hid so well.
“You’re not the only one being torn in two. I’m just… floating in the in-between,” he admitted. “Between what my dad wants me to be and who I really am. Between my family’s expectations and...” he trailed off, his eyes meeting mine.
“And me?” I finished for him, my voice barely above a whisper.
I leaned closer, searching Eli’s face for any sign of doubt or hesitation. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. “Do you really think we can make this work?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. “Us, I mean. With everything stacked against us?”
The question hung in the air between us, heavy with hope and uncertainty. I held my breath, waiting for his response. Part of me was terrified he’d say no, that he’d decide it wasn’t worth the risk. But another part, the part that had never stopped loving him, desperately wanted him to say yes.
Eli’s dark eyes locked onto mine, and I saw a flicker of that familiar determination. “I don’t want to make a life any other way, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I only want you.”
The conviction in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. “How can you be so sure?” I pressed, needing more reassurance.
A hint of that cocky grin I knew so well tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Because it’s us,” he said simply. “We’ve been fighting this for years, and look where we ended up. Right back here, together.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. He had a point. No matter how hard we’d tried to stay apart, something always seemed to pull us back together.
The cool night air carried the scent of pine, wrapping around us like a promise. I took a deep breath, feeling lighter than I had in years. “Maybe we really can do this.”
Eli’s arm slipped around my shoulders, drawing me closer. “Of course we can,” he replied, his voice a mix of determination and that familiar cocky charm. “Wells and Putnam, taking on the world. Or at least, taking on Minden, Indiana.”
I laughed, nestling into his side.
The tension between us built, electric and undeniable. Eli’s gaze dropped to my lips, and I felt my breath catch. My mind raced. What about all the reasons we shouldn’t?
But as Eli leaned in, all those doubts faded away. His lips met mine in a kiss that was tender and passionate all at once. The warmth of his mouth against mine sent sparks through my entire body. I melted into him, my hands finding their way to his shoulders as his arms wrapped around my waist.
The world around us seemed to disappear. There was no porch, no feuding families, no complicated past. There was only Eli and me, finally letting ourselves have this moment we’d been denying for so long.
When we finally broke apart, I was breathless. “Wow,” I whispered, a little dazed.
Eli’s answering chuckle was low and warm. I felt it down to my toes. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Wow.”
As we pulled apart, I glanced up at the night sky. The stars twinkled above us, countless pinpricks of light piercing the darkness. It felt like they were bearing witness to this moment, this newfound resolve between Eli and me.
We fell into a comfortable silence then, savoring the peace of the moment. The gentle creaking of the porch swing mingled with the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Somewhere in the distance, a whip-poor-will called out, its haunting song a perfect backdrop to my swirling thoughts.
I couldn’t help but marvel at how right this felt, despite all the reasons it shouldn’t. My dad’s words echoed in my mind— “Stay away from those Wells boys” –but for once, I pushed them aside. This was our choice, our moment.
As if reading my thoughts, Eli spoke up. “Penny for your thoughts, teach?”
“I think I could get used to this,” I murmured.
Eli’s fingers traced lazy circles on my arm. “What’s that? My irresistible charm? My fire station muscles?”
I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Your humility, obviously.”
We both chuckled, the sound melding with the night chorus of crickets and distant owl hoots. As our laughter faded, I found myself lost in thought again.
Love had always seemed like a battle to me, especially when it came to Eli. But now, wrapped in his arms, I realized it was more like... well, like a fire. Scary, unpredictable, but also exhilarating. And just like Eli rushing into a burning building, I knew I had to be brave enough to face the heat. I just wasn’t sure I was that brave.
“I’m scared,” I admitted.
“Of what, sweetheart?”
That we’ll regret our choice to go against our families. That you’ll regret choosing me. That we are setting ourselves up for a lifetime of drama. That we’ll never resolve this stupid feud.
Those answers and a hundred more sat at the tip of my tongue. “That this moment won’t last,” I finally said.
Eli hummed softly. “It can’t. No single moment can last forever, love. But if you’ll let me in, we’ll spend our lives in a thousand different moments like this one.”
It sounded perfect. Almost too good to be true. My heart was snagged on his casual endearment. Love. He couldn’t love me.
I pulled away, immediately missing his embrace. “You should go,” I whispered.
“Go where? Is it too cold? We can go back inside.” He closed the distance, trying to wrap his arms back around me.
“No, I mean…” I shook my head, trying to regain some of the clarity that his nearness had muddied. “Rebecca and your brother will be back in the morning. The boys are asleep. You should go home tonight. Get a good night of sleep before your shift and all that. I just… I need some time.”
My gaze caught on his jaw as the muscles there tightened. “You want me to leave?” he asked. I nodded and created the distance between us again.
The hurt expression that crossed his face gutted me, but I knew it was the right thing to do.
“Because I’m a temptation if I stay tonight?” His words hinted at a joke, but his expression was worried.
A pained exhale escaped. “Something like that.”
What if this was just the result of ten days spent in close proximity, battling the chaos of three tiny humans together? What if our families never got past their history? What if a future together just wasn’t what God had planned?
I couldn’t ask Eli to walk away from his family, nor did I want to walk away from mine.
As much as I wanted to press myself in close and cling to him, I knew I couldn’t. Not right now. Maybe not ever.
“Talk to me, Carla. What’s wrong?” he demanded, his voice full of gravel.
“Just give me some time, okay? This is all too fast. I need some space.”
Eli’s jaw tightened again. He glanced toward the yard, his eyes shuttering his emotions. “Sure. No problem, babe. You’ve got my number.”
There it was. The mask he usually wore.
I hated it. I hated that I was the one making him feel insecure. It was the same expression he wore when his dad was making comments.
Reassurances waited at the tip of my tongue – promises that I would call and explanations of just how much I wanted to be with him. But I stayed silent. Because either way, we were both going to end up hurting. Whether it was the rejection of our families or the rejection of each other was just a matter of time.
I just had to decide which one I could live with.