Thorns and Ashes (Cozy Pines Cafe #1)
Prologue
Levi
“Cinder-Ellie!” Krystal yells from the other room of our home here in the Oregon mountains. “Put that boot down now before your daddy sees you!”
“Ugh,” I groan, sinking into the couch. This damn dog.
“She’s so cute, just look at her,” Krystal said when the firehouse held a puppy drive. I knew I’d regret it, but I can’t ever tell her no. Between her puppy dog eyes and the actual dog’s, I didn’t stand a chance.
To everyone else, I’m an asshole, but to her? I fold like a deck of cards.
“Krys,” I grumble, raising a brow when she walks in. “What did this dog cost me now?”
Her head dips down, and she flashes me those big brown eyes, disarming me before she’s even said a word. “Nothing that can’t be replaced.”
“Hm,” I grunt.
Leave it to Krystal to say something so profound and positive-ly annoying. She’s better than me in every way, and I plan on spending the rest of my life figuring out how she ever fell in love with a grump like me.
Before she looks too disappointed with my lack of enthusiasm, I reach out and pull her in, pressing kisses against her soft skin until she’s giggling.
It’s a sound I’ll never get tired of. I remember the first time I heard it.
It was just another day at the fire station.
The guys told me we had a new recruit named Lopez joining the crew.
I didn’t think much of it, figured while the others welcomed the probie, I could finally grab a hot cup of coffee before they drained the pot.
I was mid-pour when the sound of her laughter floated through the station.
It was light and contagious, and for some reason, it made my heart pound.
Her footsteps echoed down the hall, and by the time she appeared in the doorway, I’d not only forgotten how to breathe, but I’d forgotten all about the coffee until it was overflowing, scalding my hand.
She rushed over immediately, grabbed my arm, and guided me to the sink, running cool water over the burn. Little did she know, the only place I felt burned was where she touched me. She’s been saving my sorry ass ever since, usually from myself.
“We have a few days before we have to drive down to Shasta Ridge and join the rest of the volunteers,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her as she settles into me on the couch and running my fingers through her long, dark hair. “Will your parents watch her?”
“Of course,” she says, as the dog playfully attacks her hand and tries to use it as a chew toy. “Who wouldn’t want to watch Little Miss Ellie?
I can think of someone... Me.
Krystal looks up at my face and chuckles, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
She probably does.
“My mom said that when we get back, she wants you to teach her how to make that Creamy Tuscan Chicken they had last time they were here.”
At the thought of her parents, a genuine smile graces my face. I’ve always gotten along with Mateo and Camila. Being estranged from my own adoptive parents, I was nervous meeting them, but they welcomed me like a son from the moment I met them.
“Sure thing, babe.” I kiss the top of her head, feeling like the luckiest man in the world as we settle in to watch an episode of her favorite show.
We arrive at Shasta Ridge ready to join the teams working to keep the fires contained.
These wildfires have expanded and are quickly destroying the coast. Everywhere I look, there’s nothing but ash and devastation.
The air is heavy with smoke, making it hard to breathe, and the sky itself looks like it’s on fire.
Krystal and I have both been fighting fires for close to ten years, but this is unlike anything we’ve ever seen.
I double-check my wildland equipment one more time, making sure I’m not missing anything and that my emergency pack straps are tight, before moving on to do the same to Krystal’s.
“Don’t worry, Batman. I know how to suit up,” she teases, calling me her nickname for us, and giving me a wink from behind her Nomex face shroud.
“Yeah, well...” I check one more strap before I’m satisfied. “Batman wasn’t in love with Robin, so you’ll have to cut me some slack.”
“Alright, everyone,” Chief Lang shouts over the roar, sweat streaking down her soot-covered face. “Hold that line! I don’t care what it takes, we’re not losing another inch to this fire! Stay low and keep your eyes on your partner! If that wind shifts, I want everyone ready to move!”
I glance over at Krystal. Ever since I’ve known her, it’s amazed me how, when most people would cower or freeze at the sight of danger, she seems to come alive instead. Pride wells up inside me at the sight every time, watching the way she faces the fire like she was born for this.
“First in,” she says, quoting a tradition we have at the fire station.
“Last out,” I answer, the words coming out rough but strong.
It’s more than a saying. It’s a promise.
A reminder that we go in and we go out, together.
Nobody gets left behind. Doesn’t matter how bad it gets, how hot the fire burns.
We don’t quit until every one of us is accounted for.
It’s not just what we do. It’s who we are.
An hour later, the fire’s pushing hard through the timber, encroaching on a cluster of old cabins buried deep in the forest. The Chief wants our unit to clear the structures, make sure no one’s inside, knock down what we can around the perimeter, and hold the line if the flames shift this way.
It’s tight, smoky, and hot as hell, but that’s the job.
“Levi!” Krystal’s scream breaks through the thunderous roar of the fire that surrounds us as a booming snap reverberates through the air.
I spin around, looking for her, looking for the danger, but I’m too late. Krystal throws herself into me full force, knocking my body to the ground and out of the way as a tree falls, smashing into and bringing down the wall that moments ago I was standing beside.
Struggling to catch my breath from the impact of the fall, I sit up as the clouds of ash billow around us and see Krystal, half-buried beneath the rubble.
“Krystal!” I crawl across the soot-covered forest to reach her. My heart pounds louder than the fires encroaching. In less than minutes, we’ll be overtaken if we don’t move now.
“Baby! Baby, wake up!” I beg, my voice trembling with fear and desperation. As quickly as I can, I throw the broken branches and stones from the wall off of her. “Krystal, baby.” My throat starts to close, tight with emotion. “Baby, please open your eyes.”
Her eyes flutter open. “Hey, Batman.”
Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived. “We have to move. We can’t stay here.”
I start to help her up, but she lets out a wail of pain.
“Shit. No, no, no.” Panic fills me, making my thoughts a jumbled mess when I need to focus the most. I have to get us out of here. Around us, another snap echoes. “We can’t stay here.”
“Levi.” Krystal’s voice is soft, but there’s a finality in the way she says my name that has my body shaking and my mind unraveling.
“I love you, Levi.” Taking my hand in hers, her lips tilt up in a sad smile like she’s saying goodbye. Another tree falls, but this time it’s closer, and the heat from the fire blazes hotter. “You need to go.”
“Not a chance!” I growl out. Using the shoulder carry technique, I drag her as fast as possible without hurting her any further. We barely make it ten yards before our path is cut off by rubble and debris.
“Help!” I yell in every direction, hoping that another team clearing the area will hear me over the crackling crescendo of destruction heading our way.
“Levi, please,” Krystal begs, but I’d rather die than leave her here.
I shake my head.
“You’re so stubborn.” A small laugh escapes her before it turns into coughing. She reaches for her face shroud, taking it off.
“Don’t!” I warn, brows furrowed. The smoke out here is too thick, and she knows it, so why would she risk—
My thoughts stop short when I see the blood staining her lips, a sign of internal bleeding.
“Hey, look at me.” She reaches up, holding my face in her hand. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
“No,” I gasp, tears streaming down my face.
“I love you so much,” she says, her voice coming out in short, uneven breaths.
“I love you, baby,” I rasp, broken sobs wracking my body. “I’m getting us out of here.”
I lift her in my arms, no longer worried about the pain she’s in, if it means keeping her with me.
She winces, but the sound of her shaky breaths keeps me moving.
When the flames catch up to us, I barely notice as they burn through my gear.
I don’t realize the sounds of agony are my own as I reach the other volunteers.
“She saved me,” I say over and over, collapsing to my knees. “Help her. Help her,” I beg, before everything goes dark.