He thought about the calls that replayed at night.Houses half-gone by the time they arrived, flames eating through roofs, smoke pouring from windows.The weight of people he'd carried out who never woke up.The different weights of the ones who did, who clutched his arm and cried and thanked him for something he'd only done because it was the job.
"I try to do the next right thing in front of me," he said."I can't redo the last fire.Can't unsee what I've seen.But I can check my gear, train harder, and show up when the next call comes in.Or fix a stupid cabinet hinge."He shrugged."It's not the same scale, but it tells my brain I'm not useless.Gives me something solid to hold onto."
She let that sit, nodding slowly like she was filing it away for later.
"Is that why you became a firefighter?"she asked.
"Part of it."He leaned against the doorframe opposite her, settling in for the conversation."I like puzzles.I like figuring out how things work, how they break, and how to put them back together.Fire's chaos that thinks it's in charge.I like arguing with it."A half-smile tugged at his mouth."And I like that when someone calls, we show up.No questions asked.No negotiations.Just, 'you need help, we're on our way.'"
Her gaze warmed, something shifting behind her eyes."You did that for me."
"Yeah."
"That's a big weight to carry," she said quietly."All those people.All those fires."
"It's not just me," he said."There's a whole crew.And I'm only part-time at the station anyway.The rest of the time I'm at the garage, trying to keep Hank from forgetting to eat or working himself into the ground.Trying to keep Brian from getting too engrossed in all the things."
"That sounds like a full-time job on its own," she said.
"It's a team effort.Bree helps with that now.She's good at dragging him away from the bikes when he needs it.And he's better since they got married.More grounded."He paused."More like himself, I think.Like she helped him remember who he wanted to be."
Sabrina smiled faintly, then sobered."What about you?If you could change something, what would you do next?With this place.With anything."
He leaned back against the counter, considering."I'd like to get this house finished.Make it more than a landing pad between shifts and race weekends.Build a table that doesn't wobble.Hang something on the walls besides a calendar.Make it feel like a place worth coming home to, not just somewhere to crash."
"You could build a table?"she asked, something like wonder in her voice.
"I can follow a plan," he said."Wood, screws, a level.Not that different from a bike frame if you think about it.Everything's just pieces that need to fit together the right way."
She made a soft sound that might have been a laugh."Of course you'd compare furniture to motorcycles."
"It's what I know."
She looked around again, and this time her expression was different.Thoughtful.Like she was seeing the house not as it was but as it could become."You picked this place on purpose.Out of everything available, you chose this one."
"For a guy who lived in a hotel for a while, yeah.It felt big.Committing to something that didn't move."He met her eyes."I wanted somewhere that was mine.Something that would still be here tomorrow."
"You deserve that," she said softly.
"So did you.With the inn."
Her mouth tightened, the softness draining away."You saw what happened to that."
"I saw you get people out alive," he said."That's not nothing.That's the only thing that matters."
Her eyes flicked away, unable to hold his gaze."I need to change.Your T-shirt's dangerously comfortable.If I keep wearing it, I'll forget it's borrowed."
He didn't say what flashed through his head.He just watched her walk back down the hall toward the spare room, her bare feet silent on the wood floor, and let out a slow breath.
The house felt different already.Fuller.Like it had been holding its breath, waiting for something, and now it could finally exhale.
He finished his coffee standing at the window, watching the morning light shift across the backyard he hadn't yet figured out what to do with.Sabrina moved into the spare room, quiet sounds of drawers opening and closing, of life settling into spaces that had been empty before.
He could get used to this, he thought.And that scared him more than any fire he'd ever walked into.
ChapterSeven
Afew hours later, Colby parked the truck on Main Street and shut the engine off.
