“Remember the graduation party? You saw those meth heads bullying me, and you stopped them. You didn’t even know me—not really—but you risked your safety for my sake.”
Marc grinned. “Remember what happenedafterthe graduation party?”
“How about we reenact that when we get home? I’ll be the shy virgin—”
Marc snorted. “Shy? You were a virgin, but I don’t remember you being shy.”
Sophie let that go. “You can be the hunky guy who rescues and deflowers me.”
“I like where you’re going with this.”
“You’re my hero, Hunt. You always will be. Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?”
He gave her hand a squeeze, serious now. “You got it.”
As quiet fellover the fairgrounds and evacuees took to their cots, the wind died down, and the temperatures dropped, giving firefighters a chance to rest.
As the sun rose the next morning, the latest edition of the Denver Independent hit the streets with its stunning front-page photo of a firefighter facing down a wall of flame—and the story of how he and the man who’d taken the photo had almost been killed.
In the early morning cool, fire crews put out the last of the big spot fires and started the long work of mopping up—finding hot spots, cutting down dangerous snags, clearing roads of ash and fallen timber. By mid-afternoon, the wind picked up again, but this time it brought rain, and the fire was finally out. The evacuation order was lifted, and the residents of Scarlet Springs began the hard work of returning home.
In all, forty-six homes had burned to the ground, together with their barns, sheds, and everything inside them. Three public campgrounds and Camp Mato Sapa had been destroyed as well. But, not a single human life had been lost.
To everyone who’d seen the fire, that seemed like a miracle.
Lt. Governor Reece Sheridan came to visit Scarlet Springs that afternoon. He wore jeans and a T-shirt with the Colorado flag on it, shaking hands with firefighters and people who’d lost their homes, promising to do all he could to support the town’s recovery. The media followed him, of course, one intrepid photographer getting a photo of climbing legend Megs Hill kissing him square on the cheek. Then, without the media horde, Sheridan paid a quiet visit to the Denver Burn Center, spending time with good friend Joaquin Ramirez and visiting the others wounded in the blaze as well.
Moved by the media coverage, communities around Colorado and the nation joined together to help Scarlet Springs, donating money, clothes, and food to those who had lost everything. The director of the YMCA children’s camp in Estes Park heard of the plight of Camp Mato Sapa and took the children and camp counselors in, giving them a safe and fun place to spend that last three days of the session.
Almost immediately, signs began to go up at the end of people’s driveways, on corners, and in storefronts. Some were hand-written on poster board, while others were spray-painted on scraps of plywood. They all carried the same message.
“Thank you, firefighters!”
“God bless our fire chief.”
“Scarlet Strong.”
Joe and Rain sent photos of the signs to Vicki, who showed them to Eric, who was in and out of it on morphine.
“See? People love you,” she told him.
As the investigation into the fire was set in motion, Terry Robertson announced his immediate retirement, leaving the top county firefighting post open. More than a few people thought Eric Hawke should have that job.
Austin droveLexi’s car up the canyon in heavy traffic, listening while she told him what she’d learned from Bear’s mother’s journal, which she had read last night.
“They all got sick with something—high fever, nausea, seizures. His father refused to come into town for a doctor. He thought God would heal them.”
“How did that work out for him?” Austin hated shit like that.
It was one thing for an adult to risk their own life on faith-healing. It was another to use religious beliefs as an excuse to deprive a child of life-saving care.
“Elizabeth, the youngest child, died first. Then Abel, his father, who’d had pneumonia that previous winter, died. Matthew—Bear—got sick next and was in bed with a fever for a long time. One by one, the other children got sick and died.”
“Why didn’t their mother go to Scarlet for help?”
“By the time her husband died, she was sick, too. She wrote this heartbreaking entry about trying to find the strength to dig graves for Mary and Paul. In the end, it was just the two of them, Bear and his mother.”
“How old was Bear then?”