Page 72 of Love in the Time of Wildfires

“I’m okay.” River’s voice was scratchier than normal, as if it were as strained as the rest of her. She pulled back to gaze at him, tears running down her face, looking pained. One of her hands clutched the side of his face, her thumb swiping across his cheek, wiping away tears he hadn’t known he’d shed. “Did you leave a good fire for me?”

“I would leave anything for you.”

She closed her eyes, dropping her head. “I’m so sorry.” He brought her to his chest again and held her as they both cried. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Becoming aware of his surroundings again, he saw the rest of the Alfaro family wasn’t there anymore, except for her mother. When they made eye contact, the woman gave him a soft smile before reaching to gently squeeze her daughter’s leg under the blanket. “Te quiero, mija. We’ll be back in a little while.”

“’K,” River replied, not pulling away from Logan. They sat there for a minute before she said, “I know you’re, understandably, angry at—”

“I’m not angry. I’m relieved. I’ve been terrified this whole time. Your whole family has been scared.”

“I know.” She started to blubber again.

“River.” Logan softened his tone, trying to soothe her. “We’re so happy you’re still here. I’m happy you’re here. Focus on that. Just get better.”

“Are you going back? I’m alright. You don’t have to—”

“I’m going to stay with you, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, relaxing into him, and it felt as if his heart was piecing itself back together.

While River’s extended family went home, along with Mimi because she needed to return to her child and husband, her parents remained for two weeks after she’d been discharged from the hospital. As much as Logan wanted to watch over River, it was her mother who did most of the care. Logan felt useless unless he was running errands for them. But, on the other hand, he was glad Claudia was doing the mothering, since River became increasingly crabby. This was mostly because her mother insisted she stay housebound, and she was constantly fussed over.

The good news was that Logan seemed to be accepted by the older Alfaros. Her father, in particular, was pleasant to him. Juan went with Logan one day to pick up tacos for everyone from a local taqueria. Her father didn’t talk much in general but, during the drive, he said, “You know River can be quite a handful. She’s been that way since she was born.”

“Oh, yes, I’m aware,” Logan replied, not taking his eyes off the road. “But I like that about her.” He slid a look to her father to show he was serious.

Her father nodded. “Good,” he said, before adding, “she’s special.”

“I know,” Logan responded.

After the two weeks, River had enough, asking her parents to please leave because she wanted time to herself. Logan was happy about that, feeling they both would be able to breathe easier. Although he was worried she might dislike him hovering as he took residence in her apartment after her parents left.

But, more importantly, he was concerned at how withdrawn River had become, as if whatever light that had been a part of her before her hiking trip remained in the forest and hadn’t come out with her.

Currently, there was a movie streaming, but her focus was instead on something beyond, as though lost in her thoughts. She didn’t even notice when Logan set her fox mug filled with tea on the coffee table.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

“Fine.” It was the kind of fine a person said regardless of how they felt. Logan recognized it. He’d been here many times, always fine even when he wasn’t. To find himself on the other side of it was eye-opening, and he came to realize how frustrating it was, not being able to fix things, and knowing she was likely being harder on herself than she deserved. He’d never realized how difficult it was being shut out when all he wanted to do was comfort, and he didn’t know the right way to address it.

She sat at one end of the couch, and he took a seat on the other side, being careful not to bother her injured ankle resting there. Logan faced her until her eyes slowly focused on him.

“What?” she said warily, already guarded. “You don’t need to stick around to watch me. I’m fine. Just go do whatever you need to do.”

She was falling into herself—he could see it. Her ordeal in the woods affected her with more than just physical injuries. If anyone got it, it was him. Logan understood the desire to be alone and away from any scrutiny. Except he didn’t want this for her. “Can I touch you?”

She shrugged a shoulder, dropping her eyes.

Logan took her hand in his, shocked at how cool her fingers were. They didn’t hold him in return even when he squeezed, rubbing along the length, encouraging the warmth to return. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

“Huh,” he said as though surprised. “I guess connecting with someone doesn’t hurt after all.” Logan ducked his head to catch her gaze. “If you want to talk to me, you can. If you want to talk to someone else, that’s fine too. But if I’m not allowed to pull away, then you aren’t either. I don’t care what it is—you can talk to me.”

She met his eyes, her own appearing sad. While the minor injuries were already healing, there were a few remaining scratches on her face, which served to remind him how close he came to losing her and how he never wanted to go through that again.

“I got an letter,” she finally said.