“I can see that. But tough guys are allowed to say ‘ouch’ when something hurts. Being brave doesn’t mean pretending things don’t hurt.”
And now she had to avert her eyes to the way Rowan so gently, terribly gently, doctored Huck’s hand.
She remembered the touch, from years ago, and?—
Nope. Nope. The barn was gone—it was a sign. Those days were gone with it.
“Are you a firefighter?” Huck asked.
Seemed like a logical question, and to her surprise, Rowan nodded. “I was. I was a hotshot. You know what that is?”
Huck shook his head.
“We fight wilderness fires. I worked in Montana, and then Alaska.”
“Cool,” Huck said.
She stared at him. “When was this?”
He glanced over at her. “The last…um, three years.” He gave her a thin smile, then turned back to Huck.
Since he died?
“Do you have any scars?” This from Huck.
Rowan’s hands paused for just a moment. “A few.”
“Can I see them?”
“Huck,” Sierra started, but Rowan was already rolling up his left sleeve to reveal a jagged scar that ran from his wrist halfway to his elbow.
“Whoa. How’d you get that?”
“This was when I was a soldier. Can’t really talk about the details, but it involved some unfriendly people and a piece of metal that was sharper than it looked.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore. Took a while to heal, but now it’s just part of me.” Rowan applied antibiotic ointment to Huck’s cut. “My buddy Saxon says scars make you look tough. Girls think they’re cool.”
“Really?”
“Really. But the best part about scars is that they remind you that you survived something difficult. They’re proof that you’re stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.”
Huck stared at his bandaged hand with new appreciation. “So this makes me tough?”
“This makes you a survivor. There’s a difference.”
Sierra’s breath caught as she watched Rowan secure the bandage with medical tape, his dark head bent close to Huck’s lighter one.
“All done.” Rowan released Huck’s hand and began cleaning up the first aid supplies. “Keep it dry for a day or two, and change the bandage tomorrow.”
The microwave beeped and saved her from bursting into crazy tears.
She pulled the plate out and set it on the table. Grabbed a fork.
Huck took a chair and dug in. “My dad was a soldier.”
She stilled.
