Page 191 of Knotting the Firefighters
Classic origin story.
"That woman became his wife—Aidric's mom. They fell in love during her recovery, bonded over shared trauma, and his ridiculous dedication to checking on her daily. Apparently, she used to joke that he rescued her twice—once from fire, once from loneliness."
Romance.
Genuine romance born from tragedy.
The kind of story that makes you believe in fate.
I find myself scanning for Aidric, curiosity driving me to observe him in the context of this new information. He's nearthe far end of the line, handling the massive black stallion with practiced ease that suggests this is his regular mount.
His horse.
His family legacy.
His heritage I knew nothing about.
He moves with fluid competence—checking saddle straps, adjusting stirrups, performing pre-ride inspection with attention to detail that speaks to years of ingrained routine. The stallion stands perfectly still, clearly accustomed to this ritual, trusting his rider's competence.
They're matched.
Perfectly matched in temperament and presence.
Both intimidating, both controlled, both concealing gentleness beneath formidable exteriors.
Aidric catches me staring, his expression shifting to something between embarrassment and defensive challenge. His pout is almost childlike—visible discomfort at being observed in context that reveals more of his authentic self than he typically allows.
"Better not waste time," he calls with gruff authority, deflecting attention through practical concerns. "Sunset arrives early this time of year, and we need to drop horses at the ranch first. That way, after the line dancing event, we can return here to settle for the weekend without backtracking."
Weekend.
Entire weekend at the ranch.
With my pack.
Creating memories and experiences that transform a temporary arrangement into something undeniably permanent.
Excitement bubbles through me with intensity that makes remaining still nearly impossible. This weekend represents so many firsts—first holiday season with pack, first extendedleisure time without work obligations, first genuine vacation in years rather than just accumulated days off spent recovering from exhaustion.
Chief Tom approved.
Actually approved the extended leave for all of us.
Simultaneously.
Creating space for pack bonding without professional interference.
The weekend is extra long thanks to Thanksgiving falling on Thursday—four consecutive days without shifts, without emergencies, without the constant low-level anxiety that someone might need rescue while we're celebrating.
Four days.
Four entire days of freedom.
This will be my first year celebrating Thanksgiving with people I actually want to spend time with, rather than volunteering for holiday shifts to avoid forced cheer with a pack that merely tolerated my presence.
No more working through holidays.
No more pretending isolation is a preference rather than a necessity.
