Page 85 of Falling for the Firefighter
"I know so." She pats my hand, weathered fingers surprisingly strong. "Now rest. The mountains will still be here tomorrow, and so will all the handsome fire captains."
Despite my exhaustion, I laugh. "You're impossible."
"I'm observant." Her eyes twinkle with knowing amusement. "Been watching people fall in love in these mountains for seventy years. Recognize the signs."
I open my mouth to protest, then close it again. Denying the obvious to Eleanor Morgan is an exercise in futility.
"Rest." She repeats, suddenly serious. "What comes next requires strength."
With that cryptic statement, she waits until Scout and I are safely inside before driving away, her Jeep disappearing down the pine-lined drive leading back to town. I stand in my silent cabin, the familiar space feeling simultaneously welcoming and somehow empty.
I manage to shower before exhaustion claims me completely, falling into bed with hair still damp and thoughts of Mac lingering at the edges of consciousness. Sleep comes instantly, deep and dreamless.
Chapter 20
Home
When I wake,sunlight streams through the uncurtained windows, suggesting it’s at least late morning. Scout stretches luxuriously beside my bed, her internal clock apparently as disrupted as mine by the past week's irregular schedule.
She's been my constant companion through every crisis, and even she seems to recognize that the immediate danger has passed, allowing both of us to finally rest deeply.
A glance at my phone confirms it—11:37 AM, nearly fourteen hours since Eleanor dropped me off. Dozens of notifications fill the screen—updates on fire operations, coordination messages, resource requests—but one text message stands out from the others.
Mac:Fire contained. 94% controlled. Team standing down for 24-hour rest rotation. Need to see you.
The timestamp shows 5:47 AM, sent while I was still deeply asleep. I check for further messages, finding none. My fingers hover over the keyboard, considering a response, when a knock at my door interrupts the deliberation.
I pull on a robe over my sleep clothes, running fingers through tangled hair as I move toward the door. Through theside window, I catch sight of a Forest Service vehicle parked beside my Jeep.
Scout reaches the door before I do, her tail wagging with genuine excitement as she recognizes Mac's scent through the wood. When I open the door, she greets Mac with joy, pressing against his legs briefly before stepping back to allow us humans our reunion. Her brown eyes track between us with the satisfied expression of a dog whose pack is finally complete.
Mac stands on my porch, his uniform exchanged for worn jeans and a simple button-down that makes him look more imposing rather than less. His face shows signs of recent rest, though exhaustion still lingers in the shadows beneath his eyes.
"Josephine." He says my name like it's both a greeting and a prayer.
"Mac." I step back, inviting him in without words. "I just woke up. Donovan ordered twelve hours of rest."
"Smart man." Mac enters, his presence immediately filling the small cabin. "I got the same order from state command after containment was confirmed."
"Is the fire contained?" I close the door, suddenly conscious of my disheveled appearance.
"Controlled on all fronts relevant to Angel's Peak." He runs a hand through his hair, still damp from what I assume was his recent shower. "State teams are handling the eastern sectors now. My crew is on a mandatory rest rotation."
"That's... good." I struggle to find words that bridge the gap between professional relief and personal awareness. "Coffee? I was just about to make some."
"Please."
The familiar routine of measuring grounds and filling the reservoir gives my hands something to do while my mind races. Mac moves to the window, looking out at the mountains that have shaped both our lives in different ways.
"Your maps saved Parker's team." He speaks without turning. "Without that tunnel system... without your knowledge of where to find it..."
"You're the one who went into that inferno to guide them out." I keep my voice steady despite the emotion his words evoke.
He turns, eyes finding mine across the cabin's open space. "Because you showed me where to go."
The coffee maker gurgles to life, filling the silence that stretches between us. Mac moves from the window to the kitchen counter.
"I've been thinking about what happens next." His voice drops lower, the professional captain giving way to something more personal.
