Page 53 of Some Cowboys Brave the Flames

And yet she didn’t think she could walk away from him completely without a big part of her heart dying inside.

He didn’t move. He didn’t reach out for her or tell her to stay. All he did was watch her leave.

Mason and Daniel were in the hall, and based on the looks on their faces, she knew they’d heard everything she’d said. Thankfully, they didn’t breathe a word to her. She turned to Daniel, her voice breaking. “Take me home, please.”

Daniel glanced to Mason, who nodded. Then he motioned down the hall, and she led the way.

23

Ash

Bright red and yellow flames clung to every surface of the building. The black smoke was such a contrast to the light they emitted. The heat seared through Ash’s uniform as if he wasn’t wearing any protective gear at all.

There were shouts from other firefighters around him, but he couldn’t make out any words. The house creaked overhead and Ash glanced upward, his chest tightening with fear. A beam could fall. It’d be just like the tree that had crushed Marcus. He had to be careful. If not for him, then for Charlie.

A scream erupted from another room, and he spun around toward it. The house was familiar. He’d been here before. Ash moved through what could only be the living room, and the scream pierced the room again. It rose above the crackling of the fire, the shattering of glass.

He whirled toward it, and that’s when he recognized the house. How many times had he walked through that archwayinto the kitchen? How many times had he looked forward to seeing her?

Without thinking, he charged for the doorway, but the ceiling overhead collapsed. He lifted an arm to block the explosion of embers and sparks.

“Ash!” she screamed again. A shadowed figure moved through the kitchen. He wanted to yell out her name, to tell her to escape through the door that led to the backyard. But his throat closed up. Another crash of something behind him had him jumping out of his skin.

Ash sat up in his bed, sweat pouring from his body. His T-shirt clung to his shaking frame, and he groaned as the oncoming headache hit him with full force.

It was dark in his bedroom, with no sign of the morning over the horizon. It’d been two weeks since Charlie had walked away from him, leaving him in that hospital bed.

The chief had insisted Ash take a few weeks to regroup. And he didn’t want Ash jumping for at least a month. That led to a lot more downtime than Ash was willing to have.

He spent most of his days pacing his apartment, not able to focus on even the most interesting shows that television had to offer. The gym wasn’t cutting it, and he could only run so many loops around the track at the park.

He shoved his blanket from the bed and swung his legs over the side. Putting his head in his hands, he went over the familiar nightmare. No matter how many times he had it, the outcome was always the same. He didn’t realize it was Charlie’s home until it was too late, and he never got her out of there.

No resolutions.

Ash didn’t like the idea of Charlie dealing with similar fears. Was this what she’d been referring to when she said she couldn’t sleep? No. He wouldn’t accept that.

He got to his feet and wandered through the darkened house.

Two weeks ago, Charlie had done the unthinkable. She’d spoken to him calmly and made a request—one she’d promised she’d never ask of him. He’d been in shock for a good hour after she left. Mason had stayed with him, not speaking—just… watching him.

Eventually, Ash told him to leave. He didn’t want Mason’s pity. Besides, he got the feeling that Mason would have sided with Charlie anyway.

No one came to visit in the handful of days he had to stay at the hospital. His parents did call him, but when he assured them he was fine, they left it at that.

Now he felt alone.

Utterly alone.

Ash stopped his pacing and moved to the window. He stared out at the parking lot for a moment, not seeing. His mind shifted to that moment in the hospital room when he’d realized everything would change. It felt so final and yet not. He couldn’t shake the feeling that their story wasn’t over yet.

Maybe what he needed to do was show Charlie that he was strong. He hadn’t been able to fight for her while in the hospital bed, hooked up to oxygen. He couldn’t convince her that he was going to come out of this better than before when all she could see was his weaknesses.

What he needed to do was convince her. He had to do something. He couldn’t just let her walk away. Perhaps he was in denial. His friends would likely tell him as much. But they didn’t know him. They couldn’t see what he’d overcome over the last six years while he’d waited for his moment with her.

If he had to wait another six years, he would.

Except there was a problem with that. He couldn’t control Charlie. Her stubbornness could be adorable at times, but at others, it was hard as stone.

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