Page 33 of The One Who Risked it All

I couldn’t help but snort. “You got that right. It’s like trying to keep a secret in a town where everyone has a porch and a pair of binoculars. Hypothetically, of course.”

The chief leaned against the fire truck, his weathered face creasing with a knowing smile. “Eli, let me tell you something I’ve learned over the years. Life’s too short to let other people’s opinions dictate your happiness. If there’s someone who makes your heart race, someone who challenges you to be better, you owe it to yourself to explore that.”

I felt my chest tighten at his words. The chief’s calm demeanor and understanding tone made me want to spill everything, but I held back, my usual defenses kicking in. “Even if it might cause, I don’t know, a small-town civil war?”

“Especially then,” he said, his voice firm but kind. “The people who truly care about you will come around. And those who don’t? Well, their opinions aren’t worth sacrificing your chance at happiness.”

I paused in my work, the rag hanging limply from my hand as I absorbed his words. My mind inevitably drifted to Carla—her quick wit, her infectious laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her students. A warmth spread through my chest, quickly followed by a familiar twist of anxiety.

Could I handle it if Dad never came around?

“But what if—“ I started, then stopped, swallowing hard. The second reason I hadn’t pursued Carla had pushed to the forefront of my mind. “What if you’re not good enough for them? What if you’re just the family screw-up and everyone knows it?” I stared at the rag in my hands, fighting back the burning sensation in my eyes.

The chief’s hand landed on my shoulder, solid and reassuring. “Elijah, that’s your father’s voice talking, not yours. And not the Lord’s. You’re a darn good firefighter and an even better man. Don’t let anyone tell you different. Even him.”

I nodded shakily, a lump forming in my throat. The chief’s words echoed in my head, battling against years of doubt and insecurity. “I don’t know if I can risk it,” I admitted.

The chief watched me, his weathered face softening. His voice took on that sage-like quality that always made me feel like a kid in Sunday school. “Life’s too short to let fear call the shots. Sometimes, you’ve got to be willing to risk it all for what really matters.” He clapped me on the shoulder and hummed ashe walked away, presumably to offer life advice to another poor firefighter.

As I turned back to the task at hand, my mind was racing. Maybe it was time to stop running, to face this head-on. The idea terrified me, but there was an undercurrent of excitement too. What if I actually had a shot at happiness?

I scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spot on the truck, my movements mirroring the determination building inside me. Maybe it was time to be bold, to take a risk.

I paused mid-scrub, the soapy sponge dripping onto my boots. “What if it all goes up in flames, Chief?” I asked his retreating back, unable to keep the hint of vulnerability from creeping into my voice. “And I don’t mean the kind we can put out with a hose.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “Then you pick yourself up, dust off the ashes, and keep moving forward. That’s what we do, isn’t it?”

I nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. The chief had a point. We faced down danger every day. How much scarier could it be to face my own heart?

I blew out a breath. At least a thousand times scarier. I was pretty sure that was a good estimate.

CHAPTER 13

Carla

Istepped onto the porch, the cool evening air a welcome reprieve from the chaos inside. The boys had finally settled down, but their energy still buzzed through my veins like a lingering sugar rush. Above me, fairy lights twinkled, casting a soft glow that seemed to smooth the rough edges of my doubts.

Leaning against the porch railing, I let out a long breath. The wood was sturdy beneath my hands, grounding me in the moment. My mind drifted, replaying the day’s events – laughter, spills, and the constant juggling act that came with wrangling a group of energetic kids.

I barely registered the quiet footsteps behind me until a familiar presence settled beside me. Eli. Of course, it was Eli. My heart skipped, and I inwardly groaned.Really, Carla? After all this time?

We stood in silence, listening to the highway in the distance. I snuck a glance at him from the corner of my eye. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his posture relaxed but somehow still radiating that firefighter readiness. The fairy lights cast shadows across his face, highlighting those annoyingly perfect cheekbones.

I cleared my throat, searching for something to say that wouldn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions his mere presence stirred up. But before I could speak, Eli turned slightly, his dark eyes meeting mine.

“Quite a day, huh?” he said, his voice low and warm.

I nodded, grateful for the darkness that hid the flush I could feel creeping up my neck. “Yeah, the boys were... energetic.”

Eli chuckled, the sound sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. “That’s one word for it. I think ‘whirlwind’ might be more accurate.”

I couldn’t help but smile, remembering the way he’d effortlessly wrangled the most rambunctious of the group. “Just five more days,” I joked, then instantly wished I hadn’t. Strange how I was sort of dreading the return of Rebecca and Nathan now.

We lapsed into silence again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The cool breeze rustled the leaves. I found myself relaxing, my earlier tension melting away despite – or maybe because of – Eli’s presence.

As I stood there, I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Did he feel this same pull, this same confusing mix of comfort and longing? Or was I just another conquest to him, a challenge he couldn’t quite let go of?

I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on the peaceful moment. Whatever tomorrow might bring, whatever complications our families’ feud might cause, right now, in this moment, it was just us. Just Carla and Eli, standing on a porch under twinkling lights.

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