to use the place.”
They were all barely on a first-name basis. How could he open his own house to her? Just like that. Besides, Brooke helped herself. Relied on herself.
“If you aren’t going to take the captain up on his offer, honey, I have quite a few families inside that will.” Darla dipped her head toward the building. “They’d love a hot shower and their own bedroom tonight.”
“I just...” Brooke began.
Darla adjusted the brim of her hat and squinted at Brooke. “Are you alone, honey?”
Brooke nodded.
Darla never hesitated. She rounded the table and clutched Brooke’s cold hands. “I’ve got nine fire stations in the county and over one hundred firefighters who will vouch for Captain Sawyer and his family. The Sawyers are good people, honey. The kind you don’t find much anymore. You’ll be safe with them.”
“Appreciate the endorsement, Darla.” Rick looked at Brooke. “We’re just a hardworking family that likes to help when we can.”
“Your son won’t mind?” Brooke asked.
Rick shook his head. “We discussed it when the fires broke out. The place is yours if you want it.”
“Or I’ll offer it up inside.” Darla squeezed Brooke’s fingers and whispered, “Take the offer.”
Simple kindness was a rare gift. Hard to repay, but Brooke intended to try. “I can pay rent. I promise I won’t stay long.”
Darla gave Brooke’s hands one more encouraging squeeze and released her.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” Rick hugged Darla and told her that he’d be back within the next day.
“Take this for her.” Darla handed Rick a packet of paperwork and a small bag. “It’s an overnight-essentials kit and a checklist for what to do after a fire.”
Brooke settled the pet carriers in Rick’s truck and climbed into the front passenger seat. “You’re a captain?”
“Retired fire captain.” Rick switched on her seat heater. “I worked at Station Twelve for most of my career.”
That explained why he was in the area, volunteering and helping people like Brooke.
“Retirement took me off the mountain and in a new direction,” he said.
“Do you miss living on the mountain?” she asked.
“I miss nature’s quiet solitude, but I love being with my grandson and son.” Rick pulled out of the parking lot. “After my wife passed, it never felt the same up here.”
Brooke wondered if she’d ever feel the same again. Normal again. Nothing felt familiar, not even her worn running shoes and old sweatshirt.
Her muscles unknotted against the warm seat and forced a yawn out of her. She mumbled an apology and tried to swallow her next yawn.
“Might as well settle in.” Rick turned onto the ramp for the interstate. “We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us.”
Brooke rubbed her eyes. “I never did ask where your son’s place is.”
“San Francisco,” Rick said. “Far enough so you can breathe in some fresh air and gather your thoughts.”
Brooke stiffened. Rick was wrong. So very wrong.
She couldn’t think in the city. She couldn’t breathe in the city. Not since...
“I can’t.”
She turned toward Rick, intending to tell him to take her back to the shelter.
“It may look impossible now.” His hand, warm and gentle, settled over hers. “But everything looks better after a good night’s sleep.”
A good night’s sleep. Brooke hardly remembered what that felt like. Most days she felt like she hadn’t slept in years. She closed her eyes. Concentrated on the quiet truck cab and the comfort in Rick’s simple touch. She was returning to the city. To a stranger’s house. To a past she never wanted to face again.
She’d stay the night and leave first thing in the morning.
DAN SAWYER STOOD in line at Zig Zag Coffee House waiting to pay for his order and stared at the name flashing across his phone screen: Valerie.
His stomach hardened and his jaw clenched as if he was preparing to absorb the abrupt attack of an assailant. He’d accept every shot, especially from Valerie, if that protected his son.
His ex-wife had decided six years ago that traveling the world was more of a priority than her marriage and her four-year-old son. Her last video-chat attempt with Ben had been after the New Year—almost eight months ago. Even that had been cut short after a poor connection interrupted the call too many times.
Valerie’s current call dropped into the missed-call list like so many things she’d missed in Ben’s life: his first day of kindergarten, his first soccer goal, his first time riding a big-kid bike. Visits from the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Every year brought something new to celebrate and something unknown to guard against. Mismanaging Ben’s juvenile diabetes wasn’t an option.
Ben and Dan had worked too hard to overcome the obstacles of Ben’s autoimmune disease. Ben was in a good place. A healthy place.
Nothing, and no one, would disrupt that.
“Stare at your phone any harder, you’ll miss the world going on around you.” The all too familiar gruff voice and laughter-wrapped scold ended Dan’s stalemate with his phone, as if he’d been ordered to stand down.
“Dad.” Dan glanced at the older man, who matched him inch for inch. Those knots loosened inside him. “What are you doing here?”
“Ben is fine. Numbers were perfect this morning and he even tested himself.” His father put a hand on Dan’s shoulder and squeezed. “Dropped Ben off at school with his book report and completed poster board just a little while ago.”
That still didn’t explain his father’s unexpected arrival. His dad always claimed he preferred his own home-brewed coffee to the fancy, overpriced coffee houses in the city.
“It’s Tuesday.” His dad waved his hand around the trendy coffee house. “You always stop here before you drive Ava to her classes.”
Every Tuesday for the past six months, Dan left work, picked up his best friend, Ava, and dropped her off at school. It’d started by accident. Ava had called for a ride after her fiancé’s car broke down while Kyle was on the East Coast. They’d just carried on after that. The perfect time for the two longtime friends to catch up. Most recently the drive had been paired with party planning for their friends’ joint bachelor-and-bachelorette party, an event that Dan had convinced Ava they should
