Whatever bits and pieces Winter left behind, Ash would incinerate. Sam might be strong enough to handle one Kingfisher. Two? He shivered at the thought. “It’s like they don’t even know me. I want someone sweet. Fun. Not nearly as intense as Winter.”
Avery snorted as she pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex some Otter Lake rangers used. “Right. Because you are so easygoing.”
Sam shrugged. She might have a good point. “Want to come up? Tour my luxurious digs? I’ll let you carry my duffel.”
Avery slid out of the SUV. “Get your own bag. I’ll carry the leftovers.”
Sam’s heart lurched in his chest. “You didn’t cook, did you?” He reached inside to grab his bag. “Or have you gotten better?”
“No, I haven’t gotten any better. In Chicago, I mastered ordering in like a champ.” As she marched around the end of the SUV, Avery was shaking her head. “But it’s not too late for me to climb back in the car with the food your mother sent along.” Avery motioned with her chin. “Show me your place while I’m deciding.”
The energy that hit as soon as he saw Avery made it easy to trot up the steps. She was breathing harder when she made it to the top, but she wasn’t in any distress. She noticed him cataloging her responses. “I’ve been walking every day. Made it up to the top of Yanu this morning before I went to work. It still took almost an hour and a half, but that’s better than a couple of weeks ago.”
Sam whistled. “Still, I beat you easy peasy, AA. Better not challenge me to a race.”
She was still grumbling as he opened the apartment door. Since he’d never been much into clutter, he wasn’t too worried about the state of the place.
At least, he wasn’t until she turned in a slow circle and said, “So, you’re a monk, too? What’s with the furnishings, Sam?”
He propped his hands on his hips and studied his living room. Sure, it held only a couch and a plasma television with every gaming system he could buy, but it was comfortable enough. The carpet was soft. What more did he need?
“At least you have a decent view.” Avery set the containers she’d carried on the tiny bar between the kitchen and living room and bent to stare out his window at the forest surrounding the small complex. “All the rangers live here?”
“No, a few, single people who spend a lot of time on call, mainly.” All the married types had set up real homes in Sweetwater. Sam had never been jealous until he realized it might be nice to have a dining table to offer a seat to his guest. “You want to have a bite? I’m not sure what she sent, but I know it’s good.”
“Nah, that’s all for you. Your mother missed you.” Avery wandered closer to the door before she stopped, a curious frown wrinkling her brow. “You picture that girl, the sweet, easygoing one, being happy waiting for news while you’re off, enjoying your dangerous job?”
Avery wrapped her hand around the doorknob. “I mean, come on, Sam. Get real.”
“An even better reason not to put anyone through that. I’m happy single.” That wasn’t exactly true. It was hard to imagine being so content half a country away from the people who loved him and did things like drive an hour to pick him up from the airport. “But I don’t have any trouble imagining some woman happy enough to welcome me home with a hug and a kiss. What does that mean, AA?” He rubbed his hand down his jaw, the rustle of whiskers reminding him he hadn’t shaved before heading to the airport.
“That you’re normal, Sam. It’s normal to want someone to be happy to see you. Believe me, after you find it, you miss it when it’s gone.” Avery twirled her sunglasses. “If one tough trip up to the falls taught me anything, it’s that everyone needs people. And when you go away to Colorado, you’re going to find that out.” Then she shrugged. “But it’s possible you need Winter, someone who will take those challenges with you.”
Sam was quiet as he stared at his perfectly fine, empty apartment. “Yeah, it’s funny you should say that, AA.” The more they talked, the clearer it became why he’d missed her so much while he was in Colorado, why seeing her face filled him with energy.
“I’ve got to get back, because I haven’t finished my part of the project yet. Your mother and my mother have been cramming in extra meals at other restaurants, doing ‘research’ in order to meet Odella’s deadline.” She tapped her chest. “The one I roped them into—” she brushed off both shoulders, proud of her cleverness “—though they all but dragged me under by signing me up to provide a contract. Which I can do, even though I never finished law school.”
Sam smiled at her irritated singsong. Avery was getting fed up with the reminders.
“I should hide some law-school pamphlets around the house,” she said. “That would further throw my mother off my tracks.” Then she waved her hands. “Except I told her over and over as a kid that Chicago was the only school for me. My plan might backfire.”
“Unless you consider a different law school,” Sam said, his eyebrows raised. “There are others.”
Avery fiddled with her sunglasses.
She was so clever. She’d never not push the boundaries. When he left to fight fires, she’d rearrange the house, do everything he’d said they shouldn’t and generally plot mayhem. He’d never know what to expect if Avery was the other half of his people, the one who made coming home worthwhile.
Why did that sound exciting?
Because he was an idiot, maybe.
“What was Winter doing at the library exactly?” Sam asked, unwilling to let her leave if he could find a way to make her stay.
“Once a quarter, she comes to tell Cherokee legends. She had a big group. It was great.” Avery shook her head. “The difference between her story times and mine is embarrassing. The kids were mesmerized. She’s like that. You can’t look away.”
In his work at the park, he’d run across Winter, one of the public information officers, once or twice. She was good at her job. People trailed behind her, ready to listen. “What stories did she tell?”
Avery stretched. “First, it was the one where the warrior finds a secret lake and promises not to hunt there. Then he does, and now it stays hidden.”
“Look for a rush of kids climbing to the top of The Eagle Nest, searching for smoke. Remember when we did that?” Sam laughed. “My grandfather was thrilled to have two eight-year-olds demand to see that mist.”
“But we never did.” Avery sighed. “And he never stopped trooping up there with us. He was a good man, your Gee.”
He was. Sam had never missed the man who’d left his mother before his third birthday because his grandfather had stepped in, helped raise him and the girl next door, after her father died too soon.
Sam nodded. “Yeah. I owe him a lot.”
“Then she told the two-wolves story, with the disclaimer that even she wasn’t sure it was a Cherokee story from way back.” Avery nodded. “I like her. She said the Cherokee know a good story when they hear it.”
The two-wolves story. Sam had heard it more times than he could count.
“I get it now, too.” Avery ruffled messy curls. “If I have two wolves inside me, they aren’t hate or love. They’re fear and...bravery or...whatever word that means you do what you want to do even if you’re scared.”
Sam understood Avery in a way he hadn’t since she’d returned home, so different from the girl he remembered. “If the job offer comes, I’m facing the same decision.”
Avery didn’t argue with him or explain that her own grief and pain were bigger than his career decision, because she was better than that. She reached over and took his hand. “Which wolf is going to win?”
Sam tangled his fingers in hers. “The one I feed. The one you feed.” He dipped his chin. “So we’re going to have to come up with a better name for that wolf, because you know that’s the one we’re picking. How about courage?”
“Good name.” Avery squeezed. “I need your phone number.”
Off balance, Sam stumbled a step. “Why?”
“I wanted to call you or text you to celebrate my stealth victory with the mothers, but I couldn’t, not without pulling them back on our tracks.” Avery shifted around to pull her phone out of her pocket. “And now, more than ever, I need you to help me feed Courage.”
Sam pulled his own phone out. “Are you going to do the same for me?”
Avery rolled her eyes. “Of course I am. If I have to do this, you do, too.”
Sam punched in the number she read off and then typed a text. “Feed Courage. When I send that, you’ll know what I mean?”
Avery nodded. “I will.”
Sam slowly untangled his fingers, already missing this connection that made it so much easier to believe that he was going to do what he wanted instead of playing it safe. The idea that he’d ever back away from a challenge was irritating.
“You don’t have a job offer yet, do you?” Avery asked as she opened the door. “I need more time with you.”
Her words landed like a punch to the abdomen, but the warmth spread quickly. “Not yet, but that doesn’t mean that’s the only decision I’m facing.”
She frowned. “You thinking about asking Winter out?”
Sam shivered. “No. Way.”
Avery laughed. “Fine. I’ve gotta get the car back before they make it home from Asheville. My mother’s got about a hundred packages to pick up at the post office before it closes. All catalogs.”
Sam rested one shoulder on the doorjamb. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“I’m glad you’re home. I’ve missed having a partner in crime.” Avery slipped her sunglasses on, and it was like the past and present melded in a comfortable but completely new, overwhelming way.
“Yeah, me, too, AA.” Sam eased up to walk her back down to the car, but Avery slipped her arm around his waist and went up on tiptoe to press a kiss against his jaw. He managed to get his arm around her shoulders to stop her immediate retreat. “What was that for?”
He slipped her sunglasses off. This close, her eyes were clear, a deep green that he’d never find again and never be able to forget. “I’m welcoming you home. I’ve missed you.” Before his befuddled mind cleared enough to wrap the other arm around her, Avery had stepped away.
“Now, don’t you fall for me, Sam Blackburn. I can’t be the girl with the firefighter husband who’s always taking chances, risking everything.” Avery slipped her sunglasses on again, her teasing smile firmly in place. “If I ever become someone’s person, the other half, he’s going to be so boring that even his guardian angel hits the snooze button now and then. You do not fit the bill.”
She raised a hand and trotted back down the steps. Sam braced his hands on the railing and watched as she rolled out of the parking lot. “Boring, huh?” It was easy to imagine Avery’s easy life with that guy.
Then Sam realized he was picturing her first husband, Robert, in the boring role. A college professor who wore tweed to work. That was the guy whose death had nearly destroyed her.
Instead of focusing on the fact that this was the first time Avery had even considered that there would be another man, her second other half, Sam stepped back inside his apartment and walked over to inspect the leftovers.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Avery’s blend of sweet support and hard-nosed dare until she’d landed back in Sweetwater, so different from before. Now that he’d remembered how much better he was when she was around, leaving would be that much harder.
“You don’t have the job yet. Get a grip.” Sam opened one of his mother’s containers of leftovers and then closed it again, dissatisfied with his options now that Avery had left the building.
When his phone rang, Sam sighed with relief. A distraction. Perfect.
“You back to the mountain yet?” Ash said as soon as Sam had the phone to his ear.
“Just dropped my duffel in the middle of the floor. I’m ready to go.” Sam crossed his fingers. “Got an emergency you need help with?” That would be the best way to handle his nerves: a battle.
“Meet me at the ranger station.” Ash hung up before Sam could ask any questions.
Which was just as well. He wasn’t going to say no.
By the time he rolled to a stop in front of the small building that served as the visitor information center for the Otter Lake area and the rangers’ offices, Sam had convinced himself that Ash was in some kind of existential crisis.
Finding his friend tangled in a knot of electrical cords and lights in the small shed at the edge of the visitor center’s parking lot was not what he’d expected.
“I decided to try to organize Macy’s storage building. That was a horrible mistake.” Ash muttered something under his breath. “How can she find anything in this mess?”
“This is the emergency?” Sam drawled as he watched strong, silent Ash string together a long line of curses.
“You said ‘emergency,’ not me.” Ash winced as he stepped out of the tangle and reached up to hang a strand of lights on a hook.
Sam shook his head as he reached for the first loose end he could find. “I don’t know how she does it. And yet if we asked her to find a set of lights, she’d be gone five minutes and come back with three different options, all perfect in different ways. Could be she’s magic, part witch or something.”
Ash nodded. “I did pretty good until I hit these. Chased a king snake out that would have had Macy swinging a hoe and yelling about no-good snakes.” Ash wiped the sweat off his brow. “Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, anyway.”
“An afternoon when you were supposed to be away from this place? An afternoon off?” Sam asked with as innocent a tone as he could manage.
“Shut up and untangle.”
They worked silently until all the strands were wrapped in smooth coils and hanging on the hooks that Ash had put up for such a purpose. “Now, all that’s left is threatening to fire her if she messes up all my hard work.”
Sam didn’t answer. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a single eyebrow. They both knew there was no way Ash would fire Macy Gentry. She managed to keep the ranger station running smoothly and with as little trouble for the rangers as possible.
“So, I know you aced the interview and somehow managed to pass the physical,” Ash said as he led Sam through the door into the rustic station. A rough rock wall formed one side of the lobby, while gleaming wood paneling finished off the room. Macy was deep in conversation with someone at the campground and only narrowed her eyes at Ash as they passed. Sam winked and grinned, and Macy winked back.
When they made it to Ash’s cramped but spotless office, Ash pulled two bottles of water out of the small fridge hidden under a table. “Already had a phone call from the recruiter. He’d like to come out to the park to meet with me and the incident commanders who’ve worked search and rescue with you.” Ash chugged half the bottle of water while Sam tried to process that. “Seems like you might be getting a job offer.” Then he stretched in his chair, clearly happy to have the chance to surprise Sam.
“Already?” That was all Sam could come up with as an answer.
Ash grunted. “Already. We talked about next week.”
Shock made it hard for Sam to think. “They add to the crews in the spring. Why come out here now? And do you think they visit the work sites of all the candidates?” No way. There was no need to do that. But why make an exception in his case?
“Nah, something else is going on. Might not even involve you. Maybe they’re scouting more recruits or...” Ash shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. They’re serious about you. Why aren’t you celebrating?”
That was a good question. Why did he want to throw on the brakes and insist everyone take their time to
sort through this?
This was what he’d been waiting for. He wanted them to be interested in him, and he should have been plotting ways to impress whoever made the trip to his park to watch him work. Really.
So why was he wondering what Avery would say about how quickly this was unfolding?
Was he going to be ready to say goodbye?
“Oh, man, are you having doubts now?” Ash asked. “You’ve done the hard part. I thought for sure you’d fail the physical, big softy like you.” When Sam had no answer, Ash tipped his head to the side. “Seriously. What’s wrong?”
Sam scrubbed both hands over his face. “Wish I knew.”
They were both quiet long enough that it got weird, so Sam exhaled loudly. “The trails. I gotta get some perspective. It’s time to climb.” He stood and waited for Ash to follow. “You coming?”
Ash squeezed his nearly empty water bottle. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t weighing job opportunities?” He stared out the tiny window with a view of old forest and a small patch of green grass. “What else could tie a young man in knots?”
“Oh, do tell, wise one.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. Ash was about to give him a hard time, but he couldn’t deny he valued his friend’s opinion.
“Glad you recognize my leadership ability.” Ash tossed his water bottle toward the recycling can and cursed when it missed. “I can still guess this might have something to do with a girl, like the one you carried down from Yanu a couple of weeks ago?”
“I meant ‘wise’ in a completely different context, Ash. Any wisdom you have comes from old age, anyway.” Sam grinned at Ash’s scowl. “And the girl...” He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Was Avery the one who was making it difficult to get his head wrapped around making this jump? “What does it mean when you want to talk over the big things with someone to understand how you feel about them?”
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