Page 156 of Honeyfires

The fire was contained by dawn, smoke still rising from the scorched hillside but no longer threatening the homes clustered at the base of the valley. I watched from the helicopter as we circled back toward Station 19, the sun painting the desert in brilliant, breathtaking shades of sunrise copper and gold.

"Hell of a night, boss," Stevens said over the headset. He wasn't the rookie anymore, hadn't been for a while. He'd grown into this work the way all good firefighters did. His Nomex was soot-stained, his voice was hoarse, and he was grinning.

"You did good work out there," I told him. "That spot fire could've jumped the line if you hadn't caught it."

"Please," Jackson's voice crackled through. "Stevens was admiring his own reflection in his Pulaski. I caught the spot fire."

"That's a lie, and documentation will prove it," Stevens said, but he was laughing.

Rodriguez's voice cut through the banter from the ground channel. "Children. Play nice. We all did good work. Now let's get home."

Some things never changed.

The year in Copper Valley had been what Rodriguez promised it would be: quiet, purposeful, the kind of work that reminded you why you'd chosen the job in the first place. A different crew, different terrain, different fire behavior patterns to learn. Captain Morrison had been fair and competent, and the rest of the crew had become people I trusted on a line, and Copper Valley itself had been kinder to us than we'd expected.

Vera had walked into the Copper Valley Public Library on her third day in town and walked out with a part-time position and a plan. By six months, she was full-time. By nine months, the director was talking about retirement.

We'd been happy there.

But San Jacinto had pulled at me the way home pulled at people who understood the word properly. Not in the way it had before the fire and the suspension and the exile—that version of the pull had been about needing to prove something, needing to reclaim something. This was different. Quieter. The pull of a place where the ground knew you.

Chief Davidson had called at the eleven-month mark, which was either good timing or an intentional act of loyalty, and I'd suspected loyalty.

"Community's moved on," he said. "Media found something else to care about six months ago. The families from Eagle Ridge? Four of the six have rebuilt. The other two relocated voluntarily, nothing to do with the fire." A pause filled the line. "Rodriguez has been asking about you."

"Rodriguez doesn't ask about people."

"He mentioned your name in three consecutive briefings and then claimed he was making a general point about crew boss training. That's Rodriguez asking."

I'd sat with it for a week. Vera hadn't pushed in either direction, which was how she handled the decisions she knew I needed to make myself. She'd just kept making dinner and going to work and putting her hand in mine when we watched the news, which said everything.

"What do you want?" she'd asked, finally, on a Wednesday evening.

"To go home," I'd said.

She'd nodded like she'd known. "Then let's go home."

Station 19 had looked exactly the same from the parking lot.

The Bell 212 on the helipad, red and white in the Arizona morning sun. The apparatus bay doors open, the comfortable smell of diesel and coffee and that familiar scent of smoke that never quite left the walls.

Rodriguez had been waiting in the bay. He'd looked at me for a long moment and then said, "Equipment's been reorganized while you were gone. You'll need to relearn the layout."

"Okay," I'd said.

"Miller's been handling rappel line inspection. He has opinions about the protocol."

"Miller always has opinions."

"You'll need to hear them before he retires next week."

"I know."

"Good." He'd picked up his clipboard. "Briefing's at 0700."

That was it. That was the whole homecoming, Rodriguez-style. I'd walked into Station 19 like I'd simply come back from leave, and everyone had let me, and that had been exactly right.

Stevens had lasted approximately four seconds before hugging me, which Rodriguez had witnessed and declined to comment on.