Page 22 of The Fire Between Us

"And is that accurate?" I ask, curious about this new angle.

He considers the question. "It was, for a long time. After growing up with no freedom, I went all in on doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. No commitments, no expectations, no one to answer to except Brock when I'm on shift."

I nod, understanding the appeal of that kind of freedom after feeling trapped.

"But lately..." he continues, looking slightly embarrassed, "I don't know. My best friend, Ethan—he's a cowboy, one of the 5 Covington brothers, very well known in Cedar Falls—started dating this girl about a month ago. I've never seen him so happy, so... content." Max shakes his head, as if surprised by his own thoughts. "And I find myself envying that. Wondering what it would be like."

"To be in a relationship?" I clarify.

"To have something real," he corrects. "Something that matters. Then I wonder if I even deserve that, given how I've lived, how I've treated relationships as disposable."

His vulnerability catches me off guard. This confident firefighter, this hero who rushed into a burning building to save me, is sitting here questioning his worthiness for happiness.

"Of course you deserve it," I say with unexpected fierceness. "You're a good man, Max. A hero." I feel my cheeks warm as the word slips out, but I don't take it back. "Anyone would be lucky to have you care about them."

His eyes meet mine, surprise and something warmer reflected there. "I don't know about the hero part," he says softly. "But thank you."

Before I can respond, there's a light knock at the door, and Mrs. Gunderson peeks in, Amelia in her arms. "Is it safe to come back?" she asks with a knowing smile.

"Of course," I reply, suddenly aware of how intently Max and I have been gazing at each other.

Amelia squirms to be put down as soon as she sees me, and Mrs. Gunderson obliges, setting her on the floor. My daughter immediately toddles to the side of the bed, arms raised in the universal "pick me up" demand.

Max stands to lift her onto the bed, his movements careful but sure.

"Up you go, squirt," he says, settling her beside me. His hands linger for just a moment, and I catch a flash of something in his eyes as he looks at Amelia—a softness, a warmth that makes my heart skip.

"I should probably get going," he says, straightening. "Let you rest."

"Yes, you both need your rest," Mrs. Gunderson agrees. "I'll stay with Jennie and Amelia tonight—the nurse brought in a cot for me. And I've already spoken to Ethel upstairs. The cottage is yours whenever you're ready, Jennie."

I blink back sudden tears. "Thank you," I manage. "Both of you."

Max nods, his eyes meeting mine one more time. "I'll check on you tomorrow," he says. "If that's okay."

"I'd like that," I reply, surprising myself with how much I mean it.

As he turns to leave, Amelia calls out "Bye-bye, faya!" waving her small hand enthusiastically.

Max chuckles.

"Bye-bye, Amelia," he responds. "Take care of your mama."

And then he's gone, leaving me with the distinct sensation that something fundamental has shifted between us.

"He's a good one," Mrs. Gunderson says softly, watching me watch the doorway where Max disappeared. "Always has been, even when he was doing his best to convince everyone otherwise."

I settle back against the pillows, gathering Amelia close as she begins to play with my hospital bracelet.

"He told me about when he first came to Cedar Falls," I say. "About his father."

Mrs. Gunderson nods. "It wasn't an easy road for him. That boy has more resilience than anyone I've ever met." She gives me a significant look. "Like someone else I've recently met."

I flush under her knowing gaze. "I'm just trying to do what's best for Amelia."

"Of course you are, dear," she agrees. "And you're doing a magnificent job. But don't forget that what's best for Amelia includes having a mother who allows herself some happiness, too."

Her words strike a chord I've been avoiding. For so long, it's been about survival, about safety. The idea of personal happiness seemed like a luxury I couldn't afford, a distraction from my primary purpose of protecting Amelia.

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