Page 58 of Until We Come Home

Her eyes catch mine briefly while she’s mid-conversation with Lark. She gives a tight, hesitant little smile, and I give a quick nod back, taking a sip of coffee while Henry plays on the grass with his toy fire truck. Maren’s sitting nearby chatting with Emma, and Calvin’s crouched down beside his son, reading out loud from a picture book.

“Hey Henry,” Calvin says, tapping a colorful page. “Don’t you think you’d rather be a writer when you grow up? Or maybe an English professor? Very respectable, low-risk career path.”

Henry pauses, his little brow furrowing as if he’s weighing the economic future of academia, then shakes his head with total, unbothered certainty.

“No!” he giggles, making siren noises. “Firefighter!”

“Drat!” Calvin laughs, tickling the kid’s ribs before looking up to catch my eye with a resigned grin. “This is entirely your doing, by the way.”

I hold up my hands in mock defense. “I can’t help it if running into a burning building has significantly cooler PR than sitting in a lecture hall.”

“I am definitely getting you back for that later,” Calvin chuckles, and I laugh.

Derek’s voice carries across the grass, and I turn to see him leaning in close to Mia. One thing that hasn’t faded with the morning sun is how thoroughly that sight picks at every raw nerve in my chest.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and glance down at the screen, a familiar, cold drop hitting my gut the second I read it.

Barnes: Call me now.

I push off the picnic table, and Calvin catches the sudden shift in my face.

“Everything okay?” he asks, straightening up.

“It’s Barnes. I need to take this,” I tell him, stepping away toward the tree line as I hit dial.

A few heads turn my way, and I feel Mia’s eyes follow me, shadowed with worry. The line picks up on the second ring.

“Mateo? You still out in Dark River?”

“Yeah, about half an hour outside town at a lake. What’s going on?” I ask, knowing Barnes wouldn’t be calling on a Sunday unless the world was falling apart.

“It’s the wildland blaze over on the east side,” Barnes says, his voice gravelly and tense. “Temperatures spiked overnight, and humidity dropped to single digits. I didn’t think we’d get mobilized for another couple weeks, if at all, but a wind storm blew through last night.”

Fuck. Those east-side fires have been smoldering all summer, kept contained by DNR and Forest Service crews who deal with that every year. But high winds during peak dry season mean sparks jumping containment lines, crowning through the timber, and merging into an unmanageable wall of flame.

“How bad is it?” I ask, already calculating the drive time back to the station.

“It’s pushing hard toward two towns, and Level 3 evacuations just dropped,” he says grimly. “State’s pulling in every strike team available. We’re shipping out today. Get back to the station as fast as you safely can, Mateo. We’re going to be out there a while.”

“Got it. I’m heading out right now.” I check my watch.

“Good. Move it.”

The line goes dead. I turn around and head straight for my cabin, throwing the door open and grabbing my duffel from the corner. I shove everything inside—years on deployment have made me an expert at moving fast. Within a minute, I’m throwing the strap over my shoulder and stepping back out onto the path toward the tables.

Everyone turns to look as I stride past the fire pit.

“Mateo?” Maren asks, setting her mug down. “Is something wrong?”

“Windstorm blew up the east-side fire,” I tell the group, grabbing my keys off the table. “It’s running toward town lines. Strike team’s rolling out, so I’ve gotta get to Seattle. I’ll text once we establish camp, but don’t expect much cell service.”

The easy morning chatter vanishes instantly. Voices overlap with warnings to stay safe, while Mia stands rooted near the lawn, her eyes wide with sudden worry as she bites into her lower lip. Calvin stands up, hands Henry off to Maren, and walks me out toward the Jeep.

“How bad is it really, Mateo?” he asks, keeping his tone quiet as we reach the gravel.

“Ugly, based on Barnes’s voice—and he understates everything,” I say, tossing my duffel into the back seat. “I’ll keep you guys posted when I can. Don’t worry.”

Calvin rests a heavy hand on the door frame, in no hurry to move it. “I am going to worry. Your head’s been somewhere else all morning, man. Are you sure you’re in the right headspace to go straight onto a fireground?”