Page 98 of Hearts on the Mend

If I close my eyes, I can see her hunched over the table in the kitchen, lost among the stacks of markers and stickers as she giggles. I can hear her ask me to play Moana on my phone again so we can sing along. And I can almost hear that warm chuckle of Cassie’s as she turns from the sink, her eyes soft at some inside joke. I’m there in the doorway, watching, letting a memory slip away faster than I can control.

It’s been eighty-eight days since I drove out to Montana. I’ve been on four fire calls. Done a handful of practice jumps, helped our loadmaster manage the parachutes and gear, and have been the butt of countless jokes from the rest of my team.

I toss my head up to the sky, the roar of the plane engine behind me in the hangar as it taxis into place. Everyone’s unloading gear and ready to toss back a few to unwind from a fucking tricky fire.

I dial her number and wait. It’s late in Massachusetts.

It rings and rings before going to voicemail. Not any different than the other times I’ve tried. Normally, I hang up. Move on. This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? What I pushed myself for?

Tonight, I sink down to the pavement, cross my legs, and talk.

“Hey, it’s me, Cass. Well, you know that… I was thinking of you. You and Ruby, actually. You should see the sunset. The fires out here are filling up the sky with haze, and it’s too much to breathe, but it makes the colors all smudged, and it reminded me of that picture Ruby drew you for Valentine’s Day of the tulips and hearts.”

God, I sound like an idiot. I pinch the bridge of my nose, inhale deeply, then shut my eyes, pretending she’s across from me in her bed with her hair spilling around us, and that smile of hers.

“The damn truth is I’m desperate to hear your voice, honey. Miss you. I just finished a call; hiked out twelve miles after digging out a fire line for days. The entire time, I thought of you and Ruby. Wondered what you were doing now that the weather’s kinder. Wondered if you’re settled yet or if you’re still looking for home.”

I open my eyes in time as the sun sinks lower in the sky. Devin flashes me a small wave before ducking into base.

“Fuck, this isn’t getting any easier, Cass, and I just had to tell you. Don’t blame you for not answering my calls. I miss you.” My throat thickens. I wipe my eyes, drawing my focus to the mountains on the horizon. “Love you. I always will. If you want to call me back or whatever…” I shut my eyes, stuck with that image of the house in my rearview. Of Ruby sobbing, the feel of her small fists banging against my chest. “Bye, Hellcat.”

I hang up before I can say anything else stupid. Not like I said anything to… well, what exactly was I hoping to accomplish there?

Cassie put a fence up around her heart, and I left anyway. I wasn’t going to give this up, and she couldn’t risk loving me. And the fucking worst of it? We both stood by what we needed even if it meant losing one another.

“You alright?” Sean asks, coming to stand in front of me. He holds his hand out, and I grab it, grunting as I push to my feet. “Come on, old man.”

“I can still take you.”

“I’ll settle for you picking up the tab tonight.”

My answering chuckle is empty. Everything inside me feels like it’s been rearranged. I’m too hot in my gear, and my scars are too tight and itchy. I would scream if I could, but a shower will need to do for now.

“Getting cleaned up first.”

“Before beers? Bad luck.”

Tugging my cap up, I rub a hand through my hair. Ash rains down around me. “Need a minute is all.”

“But you’re good? You know you can talk to me. Must be hard to be back.”

“Not for the reasons I expected. Everything will be fine.”

“With you at the helm? Always, Murph.” He slaps a hand against my shoulder. “We’ll meet you there then.”

I’m packing up my truck when Lethbridge struts up. “Hold up, son.”

I drag the back of my hand against my forehead. I’m so fucking bone-tired. Ready to shower and eat and pass out. Maybe not even in that order.

“That was a rough fire. Just wanted to check in before you head out.”

“Fine.” I adjust my hat again, the bitter air still stuck in my throat.

“Always are. That’s why you’ve been doing it for almost twenty years. This job is tough, and not everyone is cut out for it. But you’ve got a real talent. It’s like you can read the wind before the change, and that’s something that can’t necessarily be taught. Trusting your gut.”

“Most you’ve ever said to me, Lethbridge.”

He chuckles, slapping a hand on the bed of my truck. “Only mean I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’m glad to have you back…”