Lincoln
Later that evening, I go downstairs to check on Harper. She’s not on the couch anymore, and I feel a flash of worry at that. She’s not supposed to be walking around, putting weight on her ankle, according to Everett, but she’s stubborn enough that she would do it instead of asking for help with something.
I hear her voice from the back porch, calling for Cora to stay near the lit up area of the yard, and I follow it to see her sitting at least, on the bench out there. Her eyes are locked on Cora, and even from this distance, I can see the love shining in them. There’s so much proof there that she’d do anything for that little girl, and it makes my chest ache to see it.
I have a close connection with Cash and Everett, but something like this, this love and bond, is what I’ve been afraid to want since losing Taylor. This connection seems so strong, but I know it can be ripped away in an instant. All it takes is one bad call, one moment of hesitation, one accident that spirals out of control, and it can all be gone like that.
Taylor and I had each other’s backs for years. We were always there for each other. I knew if I looked up, needing something, he would be there. The kind of connections you build with your fellow firefighters are strong. They have to be so youcan trust that someone’s going to have your back when you have to walk through flames and risk your life every day.
I still think about what happened to him, even now.
Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see the fire. I can feel the heat on my skin and the fear choking me. I tried so fucking hard to reach him. I knew he was trapped, knew there was no way he was going to be able to make it out of there on his own, but in the end, I failed him. I couldn’t save him.
Just like I told Harper, that guilt has never gone away. It eats at me, and it makes it so hard to trust that other people I care about won’t get taken away. Cash and Everett know, and I know I can trust them to watch their own backs, but still.
It’s hard to wonder how long it’ll be before everyone else I care about is gone.
But I don’t want to think about that right now. Instead, I move to settle beside Harper on the bench, maintaining a careful distance. Her scent is in the air, muted but still enticing, and the sight of her curves draw me in, making me want to move closer. I stay put, though.
“I know it’s not the outcome you wanted,” I say. “But I’m glad you’re staying.”
Harper snorts, not taking her eyes off Cora. “I don’t know why, since Cora and I are pretty much just a burden to you and your pack.”
My brow furrows at that. She’s joking, in her way, but there’s a nugget of truth there too. Like she really does think that.
“That’s not true,” I tell her, going for quiet sincerity. “You might not see it, but you brighten up the town, Harper.”
Her cheeks flush pink, and there’s a part of me that wants so badly to reach out, catch her chin with my fingers and tilt her head to make her look at me. It would be so easy to do, and then dip my head and?—
I clear my throat, not letting those thoughts run away with me. It’s easier to look out at the yard as the shadows grow longer and the last bits of daylight start to slip away.
“I didn’t know what to think of this place when I first got here,” she says softly after a bit.
“Silver Falls, or our house?”
She snorts at that. “Either. Both. I didn’t expect everyone to be so nice. Small towns can either go one way or the other, from what I’ve seen.”
“That’s definitely true.”
“Your house was kind of a surprise too. I thought it would be somewhere nice, and it is, but it’s so warm and beautiful here. Idyllic.” She gazes out at the lush grass as she talks. In the distance, the horses make their noises as they get ready to bed down for the night, already fed and watered by Cash.
“I’m guessing you’re not from a place like this,” I say.
She laughs, shaking her head. “Not even close. I always wanted a garden of my own and a place where there was a yard and space to do stuff with it, but I never lived anywhere that would be possible.”
“City girl?” I ask, teasing a little.
“Pretty much. I fit all the stereotypes you’re probably imagining too. Lived in a tiny, cramped apartment, worked in an office. I walked where I could and took the train everywhere else. The most greenery I got to see was stopping at a park on the way home from work in the evenings. I always dreamed of a big garden, though.”
“This must be a hell of a change from that.”
“No kidding. It’s so much quieter out here. No traffic sounds, no one yelling on the streets at night. Just crickets and frogs and animals. It’s been an interesting change.”
“Good interesting?”
Harper chuckles. “Not bad interesting, that’s for sure.”
“You know,” I say. “If you want to garden while you’re here, we can clear a plot for you. You can grow whatever you want. We have tons of space.”