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Cortland stayed in town for the holiday to help Tulsi at the clinic. With Hannah on her short honeymoon, Tulsi would need all the help she could get. She’d arrived a week ago and moved into Cortland’s vacant apartment. Cort was staying there tonight on the couch if they ever got out of the clinic. Fervently, she hoped it was more comfortable than Hannah’s couch had been.
Despite Barbra’s drive to get medications into the hands of their clients before the holiday, they still dealt with at least two dozen requests. While they hadn’t seen the dogs and cats, they had to review each patient’s file for any incompatible diseases or medications.
Andrew’s assistant had also called them several times to come medicate new guests arriving at the shelter. She had gone, leaving Tulsi to keep the clinic running, using Tulsi’s car since hers was in Alaska.
Stepping outside the shelter when she was done, she stopped. The smell of smoke lingered in the air. Was it from fireworks displays? Or was there a nearby brush fire?
“Hey, Gordon,” She called through the open door. “You smell that?”
He lifted his nose in the air and sniffed three times. “Yeah, I smell it too. Let me contact the dispatcher.”
He went back inside, leaving Cortland alone again. As it had over the last three days, her mind returned to her dance with Dawson at the reception.
He’d looked handsome. He’d held her in his arms almost politely, as though she were made of eggshell, and he was afraid to crush her.
She should be happy he was moving on. Making a future for himself. Her chest ached, knowing he had turned down her suggestion to move to Alaska. And her nerves seethed, thinking he’d found himself another job. In Ohio, of all places. Had he even searched in Alaska for a firefighter’s job?
She stepped back into the shelter office.
“The dispatcher says there’s a small brush fire on the high school soccer field after the fireworks display over there. The fire department is putting it out now.”
A thought blossomed in her mind immediately. She could take Tulsi’s car to the soccer field and get one last glimpse of Dawson before returning to Hope the following day.
She drove quickly, hoping the fire was out on the one hand. On the other hand, she hoped it was at least contained so she could see Dawson. If she remembered correctly, the high school was in Station Two’s district.
The approach to the high school was impeded by a police officer directing traffic away from the school.
Cortland parked on the side of the road and crept past the man as he gave someone else directions. The front of the school loomed in shadow before her. An aura of light and the deepening smell of smoke behind the building led her to walk around to the back of the school.
A small crew of four manned two hose lines along the fire’s edge. At the nozzle of the closest line stood Dawson. She’d know his stance and his silhouette anywhere. She watched for a good ten minutes until the firefighters picked up the lines and stowed them back on the rig. Dawson had retreated to the cab of the truck.
“Goodbye,” Cortland whispered before she walked back to Tulsi’s car, tears welling in her eyes the entire way. Back in the car, Cortland gave in to her emotions.
They had been good together. Enjoying the same things: hiking, climbing, mountain biking, and kayaking. Well, okay, she was a newbie for nearly all of it, totally inexperienced and unprepared. But she’d like doing them all, especially with Dawson. She knew he liked to snowshoe and cross-country ski in the winter. She had enjoyed both activities as a kid in the Rochester New York area where lake effect snow piled deep every winter.
A rumbling vehicle with the air brakes squealing came up beside the car. It was Dawson’s fire truck. He sat in the passenger’s seat, staring ahead. It was only a fleeting couple of seconds. And then the truck rumbled past.
Cortland pressed her palm against the window glass in a final goodbye wave.
***
The two kittens greeted him at the door when he got home from a night out at The Irish Harp with Andrew and a few guys from the firehouse. Dawson was grateful for the vote of confidence the kittens’ actions gave him because he wasn’t feeling particularly cherished or desired at this minute. And it was all Cortland’s fault. She’d walked off the dance floor and out of his life without a backward glance. It was probably for the best, anyway. A continent divided them, and they didn’t have a future.
In the bedroom, he shucked off his clothes. In his jockey shorts, he folded down the bed sheets but paused. Thirst led him to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he paused to look at the options. He reached for a Newcastle ale but withdrew his hand, changing his mind. He’d had enough at the bar. Instead, he settled for a glass of cold tap water to soothe his parched throat.
The kittens sat meowing at his feet, their big brown eyes watching his every move. He was late with their dinner. Minutes later, the food was prepared and set on the floor. He watched them greedily scarf it down before lapping up some fresh water he’d also provided. The sight of them reminded him of Cortland’s two kittens. The two pairs would never see each other again. She was back in Hope by now. Where her new life was. Where he wasn’t.
Refilling his glass, he took it into the living room. The remote was in his hand automatically; before he knew it, he was channel surfing. You ought to get to bed. It’s nearly midnight. Nothing looked good on the TV anyway. He wasn’t in the mood for anything except obliteration. He needed something to keep his mind off Cortland, all dressed up, looking gorgeous at the wedding and reception. Her hair silky, her perfume wafting through the air and tickling his nostrils as he held her close one last time.
Ohio. The future loomed ahead. It had happened so fast and at the worst possible time. He got the call from Dublin while he was at the hospital with Jackson. They had arranged for him to fly out for in-person interviews the following week. It ended up being the day after Jackson’s funeral. He hadn’t thought he had impressed them. All four interviews had gone well enough, but he had been somber. While he’d explained the reason, his countenance either didn’t matter, or they had liked it because they made him an offer he couldn’t refuse the following day.
Flying back to Colby, he had pondered this life-changing move. He’d already spoken to his mother, who had given him her blessing. His sister had done the same though she expressed her anxiety at being their mom’s primary contact. He had assured her he would only be a two-hour flight away.
Away. In Ohio. He cursed as he strode out to the patio. It was too hot and too dry to light the firepit. The fire danger level was high. He didn’t want the embarrassment of having to call the fire department. He’d never hear the end of it. Dawson was on duty again the day after tomorrow. He should rest up for a busy week putting out brush fires. Swatting at mosquitoes buzzing around his ears, he fled back inside the house.
The kittens followed him as he walked around the house in the dark, looking for a place to settle. He gave up and settled on his bed. Smokey and Sadie immediately nestled beside him. Wide awake, he replayed the dance with Cortland in his head. She was so angry he was going to Ohio. He shook his head. What was he supposed to do? Stay here alone in Colby and pine after her?
A niggling thought crept out of the back of his brain. She asked you to move to Alaska with her, and you declined. You told her you couldn’t leave Jackson and your career here in Colby. A fierce grip clenched around his heart. He flipped onto his left side, facing the kittens. He reached out and stroked their furry spines. They purred with pleasure, their eyes closed as they stretched out.
He closed his eyes. The Ohio job was a big jump in pay and responsibility. He was old enough to realize the current chief was likely four to five years from retirement. Taking the deputy chief position now would give him skin in the game for the step up to chief. As he lay there trying to let sleep seep over his consciousness, he admitted that alluring truth.
On the other hand, staying with Cortland—was his chance to make a difference. He couldn’t save his father. He couldn’t save Jackson. But I can do something to save the woman I love.
Love. Where had that come from so quickly? He didn’t know, but the strength of the emotion made him feel proud. He rolled over to open the top drawer of his nightstand. He clutched the jewelry box to his chest, his heart aching as hard for her as it had the day his father never returned home.
She said she’d miss me. He believed her then and now. Because he felt the same way.
He missed her. Her laugh, her corny jokes, her ornery attitude at times, her menagerie in Alaska, he loved all of it. He thought about the barn fire and what could have happened. The homestead is too large for her to handle alone. She needs me, and she wants me. And he needed her. Above all else, he loved her. Everything about her spoke to his heart and filled his soul with happiness. What the hell am I doing here?
That revelation made his heart sing. He wanted to be with her and didn’t care where that was in the whole world. Ohio be damned. Without a thought, he jumped off the bed.
It was time to set some new plans into motion.