Page 52 of Some Cowboys Brave the Flames

As much as he probably hated her for making such a request, she hated herself even more. Hadn’t she told him that she wasn’t going to make him choose? She’d broken that promise. Everything had changed when he’d gotten hurt.

Everything.

The air turned cold without the conversation continuing. She nearly got up and walked out, but then he spoke.

“I’m sorry, Charlie.”

That could mean anything. He could be repeating his apology for getting hurt.

But she had a feeling that his apology had nothing to do with his injuries—nothing to do with putting her through this nightmare.

“I can’t do that,” he said so quietly that she could barely understand. It was his eyes that made it clear where he stood. They were dark, and the light that had been in them when she’d entered had dimmed to nearly nothing. “I can’t walk away from being a firefighter because…”

“Yes, you can,” she insisted. “I’m sure there are other places that would love to have you. My brothers?—”

He let out a derisive laugh. “A cowboy? Do you even hear what you’re saying? I’d be leaving one job for something just as dangerous.”

“I hardly think riding a horse is as dangerous as skydiving into a fire,” she snapped. Then she immediately regretted what she’d said and shut her eyes tight. “What I’m trying to say is that you could do something else, and I wouldn’t have to worry?—”

“You’ll always have to worry, Charlie. Don’t you get it? There isn’t a career out there that doesn’t have at least some degree of risk. Heck, driving in a car means I could get in an accident. One second I’d be here, and the next I’d be in a crumpled, metal heap on the side of the road.”

She flinched at the description he wove. “I get that.”

“Do you? Because it really seems to me that you have no idea what you’re asking. I’m not going to walk away from my job because it’s everything to me.”

“And what about how I feel? What about my future—ourfuture? This isn’t just about you anymore.” They’d not discussed their future—not really. They’d touched on subjects like kids but never where they saw themselves in five or ten years.

The sad part was that up until this moment, she had been able to envision a life with him. She’d been able to see what it would be like to be married to him. And she’d wanted it so badly.

This time Ash took her hand. He held onto it tight and waited for her to meet his gaze. “I love you, too, Charlie. And I wasn’t lying when I said I’d do everything in my power to make sure I come home safe. But to ask this… to ask me to walk away from something that is practically related to my identity…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.

Ash couldn’t do it. Not for himself and not for her.

She pulled her hand from his grasp and got to her feet, knowing if she stayed by him, he might be able to coax her into changing her mind.

“Charlie?”

Spinning away from him, she shook her head. Her arms wrapped around herself. “I’ve had a lot of fun with you, Ash.” Her voice sounded hollow even to her.

“Charlie,” he said firmer this time.

“And I will never forget what we found this summer. It was…everything.”

“Charlie.Don’t.”

Tears stung her dry eyes, making them itch even more. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to keep seeing each other.”

He shifted in his hospital bed, and for a moment she thought he might try to climb out of it to come to her. But he didn’t. She glanced at him over her shoulder, not surprised to see the anguish written all over his face. It broke her heart into a million pieces to see him like this, to know that, in part, she was the one to blame. “I will always love you, Ash.”

His hands clutched into fists. “You can’t be serious.”

She wanted to go to him, to wrap him in her arms and tell him that she would stay. She wanted to believe that she’d eventually get over her fear of losing him. But she couldn’t. Her legs wouldn’t work. Her feet refused to budge. The pounding in her heart was only matched by the pounding in her skull. Charlie’s hands shook. “I have to think about my own mentalwell-being. I have to think about my future children. I was raised without parents, Ash. I’m not going to let my children be raised without a father.”

“You’re being unreasonable. You’ll learn how to handle it.”

She wanted to cry at the desperation in his voice, at the tear that slid down his own face. But she fought it. As if by a will that was not her own, she moved toward him—not to give in to him, but to say goodbye. She ran her fingers through his hair, then trailed her touch down the side of his face until she palmed his cheek. Slowly, she lowered herself closer to him and brushed a soft kiss to his brow. “I hope we can still be friends.”

Those words were not her own. She had no idea why they slipped from her lips. Charlie knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being in the same room with him and not feel her heart breaking—just knowing he’d chosen his job over her.

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