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Chapter 1
Early Saturday morning, as the sun rose, Devon Lyon stripped off his turnout gear and hung it to air out on a hook on the outside of his locker at Fire Station 34, in North County, San Diego. Coming in from a call for a small brush fire at the side of the 15 right before the Poway exit, Devon looked forward to coffee, to bed for a few hours, and for the rest of the weekend, in that order.
Grabbing a towel, he walked to the shower, whistling, uninhibited.
“The Lyon is happy this morning,” a colleague shouted, coming on his shift.
“Yeah, because he gets to go home,” Rick Jackson called out.
Chuckling, Devon nodded. Life was so peaceful, if it weren’t for the fires he fought, the lives ocasionally rescued, he’d have to consider getting a hobby just to prevent boredom from setting in. Mind a blank as he lathered up, he thought of getting home to his dog, Tilly. She’d be on the back of the couch, waiting for him after his three-day absence. His friend and closest neighbor, Lila, had taken care of Tilly while he was gone.
“Jesus, buddy, I’m embarrassed to strip in front of you,” his best friend, Mike, said, pointing to Devon returning from the shower. “Look at this guy’s abs.”
Quickly holding a towel over his front, Devon laughed. “You’re not my type,” he said over the hilarity. “I won’t watch you dress if it’ll help.”
Locker-room banter took away some of the pain and exhaustion the firefighters experienced after working a three-day stretch.
“See you Monday,” Devon said when he was dressed, grabbing his duffel bag.
“Don’t forget, Aisling is expecting you for dinner tonight,” Mike reminded him. “She’ll be crushed if you cancel.”
“I won’t forget. Your wife is the best cook in town. Tell her to text if she needs me to bring anything.”
“I will,” Mike said, yawning. Devon appeared to be hanging around waiting for him to leave, but Mike knew he was eager to go. “Get home to Tilly. I’ll be right behind you.”
Leaving the firehouse produced a dichotomy: relief because home loomed nearby, mixed in with apprehension due to a stretch of solitude and near isolation that he might enjoy a little too much. The comfort of being alone, enjoying the silence and the absence of human interaction, led Devon to closing off the possibility of a relationship. Except for Mike and Aisling, he just wasn’t interested in sharing his life or his home.
He lived in the house his late parents had left him on a mountain in Elfin Forest overlooking the valley and, on a clear day, the Pacific Ocean. If it weren’t for the house, he’d be living in a condo in Carmel Valley like most of his friends.
Aisling and Mike loved visiting him and Tilly. They’d bring their old German shepherd, Ralph, when they came, and he’d sit on the terrace with the million-dollar view, crossing his paws while they played cards and drank beer. Tilly loved Ralph and would climb up on his back and survey her domain.
On this Saturday morning, the scenic twenty-five-mile drive from the firehouse, part of it winding around Lake Hodges, was a serene way to regroup. The weather had the potential to be brutally hot, but this early, with the sun not yet over the mountain range, it was cool, and he had the windows down. The lake had finally regained some of the depth it had lost during the drought, and he saw early morning fishermen in their boats, casting their lines. The wind blew through his short sandy hair, reminding him of lazy summer days.
He was home in half an hour. The steep driveway led up to the amazing vista, and it was clear enough to see the ten miles to the ocean. After he parked, he got out and stood for a few seconds to look before opening the side door so Tilly could come out and join him. She jumped into his arms, so glad to see him, and he carried her to a low, comfortable chair on the expansive terrace, which extended across the front of the house with that view. He looked up at the sky and saw a stream of reddish sand high above: the Santa Ana winds carrying dust from the desert along with it.
Plopping in the chair, he put his head back and closed his eyes. Tilly licking her paw and the sound of the wind in the palm trees lulled him to a semi-sleep, and it was the caw of a raven that woke him.
“I guess we’d better go inside and get you fed.”
Tilly jumped down and went around to the side of the house to her ladies’ room to take care of business while Devon waited for her. The side door led to the kitchen and Tilly’s breakfast. After fixing her kibble, he made a cup of coffee. Drinking coffee before bed was a comforting ritual and didn’t impair his sleep.
“Come on, Till, let’s go back out for a bit.”
They assumed the position on the deck chair, Tilly curled into a little ball on his lap while he drank coffee. The sun inched overhead, and rather than crank out the awning, he’d go back inside for a nap.
“I guess it’s bedtime,” he said, yawning. “I wish we didn’t have to sleep.”
While he and Tilly cuddled in bed and Devon was soon unconscious, Mike Saint had arrived to his silent home. Aisling didn’t work weekends and would still be in bed. Mike lived for these rare moments with them both home. Glad he’d showered at the station, all he had to do was toilet Ralph and give him his breakfast and, when that was taken care of, climb into bed.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Aisling mumbled, rolling over into his arms.
“I just got here,” he said, kissing her.
“Let me up to brush my teeth.”
“No, don’t leave. This won’t take long, I promise,” he murmured, smoothing his hands over her hips. “It’s been a long three days.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, giggling, burying her face in his chest. “You’re naked already.”
