“I got rid of the phone anyway,” she said. “I couldn’t chance it.”

    They got into Denver at seven o’clock and instead of driving home, they stopped at Maggie’s house, now a very stylish crash pad for those nights she spent in Denver so she could work. It was then that Sierra finally caught up with Connie. “We’re in Denver, staying overnight so Cal can sleep with his wife and unborn baby, but she has surgery early in the morning so we’ll be up and on our way.”

    “I have to work but I’ll try to sneak away just to see you,” he said. “Then on the weekend, I’m all yours. Or maybe you’re all mine.”

    “Is Molly okay?”

    “I think she misses you,” he said. “She keeps looking out the living room window. I’ll be taking her to Sully in the morning before work so she’ll be waiting for you.”

    “I can’t wait to see her. Has she been a good girl?”

    “She found herself an elk cow and calf. All survived...”

    “I’m looking forward to a quiet weekend.”

    “I just hope that whatever was upsetting you is past,” he said.

    “What if it’s not? What if it’s never past?”

    “Then I’ll comfort you as much as I can,” he said.

    Sierra had no doubt where Connie was concerned. Of course he would be supportive and comforting; of course he was brave and loyal and wouldn’t falter. But what if it turned out to be more than he signed on for? What if she one day saw regret in his eyes?

    * * *

    “This is as much time as I’ve spent with you since I was a little kid,” Sierra told Cal when they got back to the Crossing.

    “I was thrilled by every second of it,” he said. “And I hope we don’t have to do it again anytime soon.”

    “Ditto,” she said.

    Her reunion with Molly and Sully was perfect; Molly attacked her with excitement and Sully showed one of his rare, toothy smiles. Cal dropped her and took off, eager to get back to building. She suspected he needed the work to clear his head. She had a cup of coffee with Sully on the porch.

    “Get everything taken care of?” he asked.

    “As much as possible,” she said. “It’s complicated. Let me just say there are still a few messes from the past that have to be attended to.”

    “Girl, not a person alive who doesn’t have messes from the past that could use cleaning up.”

    “This one is pretty awful.”

    “I meant awful messes,” Sully said. “Might be time you figured something out. Your life hasn’t always been a bowl of Froot Loops, but you’re smart and strong. And I don’t know a single person who gets through this with nothing but giggles. Frank went to war three times, then he got cancer. Twice. He sent a son to war and buried him. And at my age you start to realize someone like Frank isn’t a rare thing. It’s par for the course. It turns out the mark of a happy life isn’t staying just one step ahead of the grim reaper. It’s knowing you’re strong.”

    “Is that your best advice?” she asked.

    “Nope. My best advice is this—by the time you meet your Maker, and may it be a long, long time from now, I hope you can close your eyes on a life where you did your damn best and tried your damn hardest. It’s not winning that’s really winning. It’s never giving up.”

    “Your life hasn’t been easy, I know,” she said.

    “Much of it my own making,” he said. “But there were a few times I was flawless and I ran into some rotten luck anyway. If there’s any way I can help you with anything, you’ll let me know.”

    But he never asked what it was.

    She talked to Connie twice but he was so busy at the firehouse, she didn’t see him. He wasn’t working the weekend and she made plans to go to his house after lunch, after helping Sully a little bit in the garden. She told Connie to get a little rest; the firehouse had been hectic.

    When she got to his house she found him waiting, freshly showered and shaved. Molly ran around in circles and then to her water dish but Connie pulled Sierra into his arms.

    “It was so hard being away from you,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m going to suffocate you, be too possessive, scare you away.”

    “Oh, Connie,” she said. “I have so many secrets.”

    He put her back on her feet. “You want to talk?”

    “I do. I have to talk.”

    He shook his head. “Don’t be afraid of me, Sierra. You know it’s okay to talk to me. Nothing will chase me away. I love you.”

    She thought her heart might explode. “You were going to let me say it first.”

    “I couldn’t wait,” he said.

    “You might run for your life,” she warned him.

    “Sierra, listen to yourself sell me short. I go into burning buildings for a living. I dangle over sheer cliffs to help people. And that’s the half of what I do. What’ve you got to compete with that?”

    “I was raped,” she said.

    He actually jumped in surprise. He grabbed her upper arms. “Recently?” he asked in a hushed tone.

    “About a year and a half ago.”

    “They catch the guy? Lock him up?”

    She shook her head. “Not yet.”

    “Okay,” he said, a little out of breath. “Sit down. Tell me everything. I mean, tell me what you want to tell me. Just please tell me. How can I be there for you if I don’t know what’s going on?”