It wasn’t until we were inside and the fire was roaring on the old stone hearth that I realized… her childhood freckles had faded. And her hair had deepened into a burnished copper, the color of slow, smoldering coals.

She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Not that it even mattered. She felt the same, in my arms and in my heart. And that’s the only kind of beauty that’s real, the only kind that lasts a lifetime. She was my stubborn, bit-between-her-teeth little firebrand. And she was, even now, keeping me at arm’s length.

“How’s that coming?” I asked, glancing at the skillet. I stirred the pot of beans and bacon and my stomach rumbled. At least it hadn’t been too hard to talk her into making her famous steak with coffee gravy. The recipe had been handed down in her family for more than a century, but no woman had ever made it better. She poured a cup of cold brew over the drippings in the iron pan and the steam that rose up made my mouth water.

“Just a few more minutes so it can thicken,” she said. “Here in the kitchen?”

I shook my head. “On the floor by the fire,” I answered. And I knew she was remembering the same thing I was; all the nights we’d never made it upstairs. Nights that her brother had been out on a call and Sarah and Ray had made excuses to head into town, so we could be alone. Even though Randy had taken his time accepting us, Ember’s parents had welcomed our engagement with open arms.

I watched her fill a plate, and let my hands linger on hers when I took it. The room was heating up fast, and she was still wearing her jacket.

“Come on,” I said, turning her in my arms. I reached around her to unzip her jacket, my chest against her back. I took my time… and peeled it off, tossing it onto the sofa where Reilly was spread out and snoring softly. “I want you to keep me company down here while I eat,” I said. I sat down on the hearth rug, crossing my legs and balancing my plate on my thigh. She sat too, as uncomfortable as I’d ever seen her. The wind outside was starting to howl.

“I can go, if you want me to,” I offered, halfway through the best meal of my life. “I didn’t plan on this any more than you did. I can come back for you in the morning and we’ll go pick up your truck…” I licked my fingers and sighed. Memory didn’t do this place justice, I thought. It was quiet, peaceful… intimate. It all still felt like I’d never been gone…

“Don’t be stupid,” she replied. “The road won’t be safe. And it’s not like we’ve never been alone before. You can take the guest room if you want… or the sofa, if you can get Rye to share.” She looked up at me, finally, and smiled, changing the subject, “How are your folks? Did they ever come around to seeing things from your point of view?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it on the news,” I answered, my throat suddenly dry. “They opened another resort about six months ago, in the smack fucking middle of land they knew I wanted to include in the reserve.” I put my empty plate on the coffee table and Reilly’s nose twitched in his sleep. “If I didn’t know for a fact that their only motivation was profit, I’d have suspected it was simply spite. But there’s not enough snow this winter for it to matter much, anyway.” I stretched my long legs out, turning on my hip to face her, and leaned my head on my hand. The firelight made her hair gleam, her dark eyes glisten. “They’re flying out tomorrow and will be gone for months. I think it’s just as well.”

“And are you and Randy ever going to make it right again?” she asked. Her voice was lower, more intense. “You two were like brothers before… well, before you and I were…”

I leaned forward and caught her hand, bringing it to my lips. I held it there, against my skin, breathing her in. “It wasn’t easy for him, when you grew up, Em. By the time he’d adjusted to the idea of us together, we weren’t us anymore.” I kissed her flesh and felt the tiny bones and muscles move under my lips. The movement was almost imperceptible, but it set off something inside I wasn’t sure I could control.

“Randy loves you,” I said. “I had a foundation to build, and he’s got a family of his own now. Things had to change eventually. We had our own paths to follow. We all did.”

I leaned closer and pulled her beside me. “There isn’t any blame in it, Ember. I know you couldn’t live the life your mother did. No more than I could live my parents’ lifestyle.” I stroked my hand down her back, using every ounce of self-control I had in me not to reach under to bare, warm skin. “I hated how things ended, Em. But I get it, just the same.” I took a deep breath. “But what happened between us tonight wasn’t a mistake… It could never be a mistake for us…”

We sat for a long time in silence. I stroked her back, let my fingers slid through the silk of her hair. The fire burned lower and crackled, shifting like a living thing. I’d fought more than fifty fires just like it on a much larger scale. Here on the hearth, it was contained… tame. It was warmth and comfort, domesticated by man’s will. But out there, in the wilderness, it became wild. It grew and it breathed and it took back its will. It could go from ember to inferno within minutes. I’d seen it turn on a dime and jump through treetops to envelop and destroy men who, only minutes before, had thought themselves safe. Every time I stared into its blinding light, I had the sensation of being watched in return. It was part of what had inspired me to volunteer with Randy. When I went out on a call, I wasn’t just facing a wildfire. I was facing an opponent; an intelligent one… And it felt like the elephant in the room. Ember and I had never talked about it directly, not even now. We always talked our way around it…

“I love you, Jason,” she said softly. She turned so the firelight was behind her and her hair was a brilliant halo of color. “But we shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have let it go so far tonight.” She swallowed and I waited. “I’m still not over you… and tonight isn’t going to make that any easier.

“I’d like to forget everything and take you upstairs with me. But I’d only pay for it later on.” I gripped her hand as she gripped mine. “We both would, and it’s already been hard enough. There’s just still too much standing between us,” she went on. “I’m going upstairs now… and I think it’s better if you sleep down here.” She smiled in a lopsided way. “Rye’s not bad as company,” she said. “He’ll hog the blanket if you let him, but he’ll keep you warm.”

“You’re the only warmth I need, Em…”

“Goodnight,” she replied, already halfway up the stairs.