Page 19 of Steamy Dreamy Hearts

“Complaining.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s upsetting.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “I usually can control it. My moods.”

Ask anybody at our firehouse who was the moody one, and Caleb’s name would be last. Mine first, maybe. But now, away from the familiar setting of our fire station and out in the middle of nowhere, I saw the truth. Caleb was desperately masking all his negative feelings. Somebody, somewhere, had taught him to repress them and not let them out. But in my experience with Dan and grieving, it was important to acknowledge loss. Loss, like the embers of a fire, could spread in any direction. You couldn’t turn your back and ignore the feelings.

I cleared my throat. “You don’t have to control anything for me. Just be honest. Be you. Moody or not, it’s all fine. We’re here to do a job, and we will do that job to the best of our ability. Together, as partners.”

Caleb moistened his lips. “Thanks, Captain. It means a whole lot to me. It just sucks to not help them, idiots that they are, and know some of them might fucking die out here.”

“I get it,” I said somberly. “Believe me, I’m just as upset as you.”

“You aren’t showing it.”

I gave a bitter laugh. “Practice.”

Caleb sighed loudly, shaking his head. “I try meditation or go to the gym when I feel this way. Something physical. I just want to hit or hug something, hard and long.” He attempted a smile and failed.

“Ready to move on?” I whispered roughly.

He gave an earnest nod.

As we started on our journey again, I tried to ignore a pang of worry. Driving toward the wildfire suddenly didn’t alarm me as much as the heat between me and Caleb. The fire, I could handle.

I parked the truck in an open field. “We’re here,” I said.

Caleb took in the rough conditions. People in full gear, looking exhausted, the small circle of tents, where many of them slept a few hours before another shift. Others might be in a truck with some provisions like ours, but nothing would be easy about the coming days fighting the wildfire. Exhausting was a meager word for what we’d be doing. They’d be rationed food and hours of brutal labor ahead, little to no sleep, but we’d all stay—not for the adrenaline, but because this was the job. We’d stay until the burn was contained.

“Jesus, that’s a lot of smoke,” Caleb said as we stepped out of the truck. He took out our masks and apparatus, looking at the dark sky, frowning slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m glad we’re here and ready to fight this thing. With all of these teams arriving, I’m sure we’ll reach containment.”

“It might take time,” I pointed out.

“Always the optimist.” Caleb grinned. It was nice to see his real smile and not some tight-lipped one. His determined expression made my heart lift in response.

Caleb checked our gear and masks. Backdraft was a real danger with these fires. So were collapse zones. One minute and a structure might go down in a flash. The debris would be bad in those cases, even if you weren’t in the falling structure.

His mask hid some, not all, of his scars. He closed his eyes, the sunlight catching his thick eyelashes and the highlights of gold in his brown hair. I averted my gaze. I didn’t want to notice small details like that. Or how beautiful he was. Caring for people brought too much hurt. I was good with my mom and Erin; I didn’t need to add to the list of people in my life. Did that make me a coward or an asshole? Maybe both.

“Let’s go,” I said, and we headed toward the perimeter.

Caleb immediately greeted a passing first responder. We weren’t the ones in charge here, only volunteers. I recognized the man Caleb chatted with as one of the permanent crew, a smoke jumper. I watched for a moment as they chatted. We’d have to find the commander and get our orders soon enough.

Caleb took time to speak with everybody we rescued. He volunteered for duties other guys didn’t want. He was fucking brave, returning to the job when most others would have quit. Hell, I wasn’t certain I’d return to the job if I’d faced his trauma and burns.

I wanted to unbreak him, damn it. Fix the damage to his face, to his soul. Make him stop hurting. Remind him he was capable every damn day if that’s what it took.

“Captain, are you with me?”

“Yeah.” I fixed my mask into place. “I’m with you.”

It was the last conversation we had before all hell broke loose.

CHAPTER

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