Jesse was unusually quiet on the drive home from the Cimarron. Ellie didn’t notice at first because all she could do was rave about how amazing their day had been. She didn’t know what had been more fun—watching the kids ride for the first time, going for a sleigh ride, or getting up the courage to ask Jack if she could try riding. She’d also felt better after she’d watched Jesse fly through the skijoring course after lunch. It was only when he didn’t seem to hear this comment that she realized something was wrong.

The kids had fallen asleep on the drive back to Scarlet Springs, worn out from all the excitement. Jesse carried in Daniel while she carried Daisy. They put them in their beds. On the way back down the hallway, she finally asked him about it.

“Are you okay? You’re so quiet.”

“We need to talk.”

That didn’t sound good. Had she said or done something to upset him? Had something happened at the Cimarron?

“Okay. Do you want a cup of coffee or something to drink?”

“No. Thanks. I’m fine.”

They sat at the table, and she waited.

“There’s something I should have told you when we first met. At first, it didn’t seem important, and then I just let it go.”

She reached for his hand. “What is it?”

“I knew Dan.”

Blood rushed to her head. “Wh-what?”

“We all had nicknames over there, so at first I didn’t make the connection. I knew him as Crashhawk. We all called him Crash. I should have told you, but at first it seemed irrelevant and after that .. I didn’t want to stir up old memories for you. I should have told you before we got involved, and for that I’m sorry.”

But Ellie’s mind hadn’t gotten past his revelation, rage making her face burn. “You knew Dan? You knew my husband, and now you’re sleeping with me?”

“I didn’t know him that well. We didn’t hang together. He flew maybe fifteen actions for us, saved our asses a few times. We didn’t hang out.”

“So Dan flew you and your guys on some of your missions and maybe even saved your life. You came back, but Dan died in that helicopter.”

Grief cut through her, sharp and dark.

Oh, Dan.

“If I could change that for you and take his place in Arlington, I’d do it.”

“That’s not what I meant. I don’t want that.” She’d said something pretty close to it, hadn’t she? “I’m sorry. It came out wrong. I was just stating a fact.”

She fought to keep herself together. “When did you figure it out?”

“The night you were sick. I saw the SOAR patch on my way out, and it finally clicked. Ellie Meeks. Dan Meeks. Crash.”

“You didn’t think it was important enough to tell me?”

“Not that night, no. You were sick, pale and dizzy. Daniel was sick and crying. You didn’t need a stranger bringing up the past.”

“Okay.” That was fair. “What about later? What about the night we first kissed and I told you all about him? Or how about when you were in his bed and I asked you if the photos of him bothered you?”

Jesse’s gaze went hard and cold, and he leaned in. “When I was in your bed, the only person I was thinking about was you.”

That made her mind go blank for a moment.

“I wasn’t trying to withhold anything from you. With everything that’s been happening, I just didn’t think about it.”

“You didn’t think about it?”

“I should have told you before we got involved. I’m sorry. I care about you. I—”

“You should go now.”

“Ellie, I—”

“I just need some time.”

A muscle clenched in his jaw. He stood. “If that’s what you want.”

She stood and walked to her bedroom, fighting tears. There on the walls were photos of the man she’d loved—and lost. What would he say if he knew she’d been sleeping with a man he’d known?

She sank down on the bed, looked at the ring on her finger, and tried to straighten out the tangled mess of emotions inside her.

She needed to talk to Claire. She needed to tell her sister what had happened. She walked out to the kitchen in search of her cell phone, and that’s when she saw it.

Her key.

He’d left it on the kitchen table.

* * *

Jesse held the bottle of rum, his resolve slipping.

Drinking won’t make it better.

No, it wouldn’t. He would just end up with a hangover to go with the sickness in his heart. Then again, didn’t heartbreak and hangovers go together? Besides, it might make him numb for a while, and right now he desperately needed to stop feeling.

He poured himself a drink, tossed it back, poured another, then went to sit in the chair in front of his wood stove, taking the bottle with him.

He had fucked up, and he was paying for it. Why hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t he come right out with it that first night? She’d been so hurt, so angry. But it wasn’t as if he’d tried to deceive her. He’d just forgotten to tell her.

Jesus.

He’d been so close to having something special with her, to being more than he’d ever thought he could be. He might have married her. He might have done like Nate and been a father to her kids.

Regret, cold and sharp, cut into him.

Daniel and Daisy.

The thought of never seeing them again made him feel actual fucking pain in his chest, as if someone had just cut through his sternum.

You knew this wouldn’t work out. You knew it was a bad idea.

He shouldn’t have left the key. Then he would at least have a reason to see her again. He could have waited, then asked if she wanted the key back. But he hadn’t been thinking tactically. He’d been hurt and angry, and so had she.

You came back, but Dan died in that helicopter.

She said she hadn’t meant it the way it had sounded, but Jesse had meant every word he’d said. If he could change places with Dan, be the one who died, trade his life for Dan’s life, he would do it. Dan had left behind two unborn children and a wife who loved him. No one would have missed Jesse.

Restlessness had him on his feet. He emptied his glass, set it down on the coffee table, and walked with the bottle to his front window. He took a drink, watched darkness cover the world outside, the last rays of sunlight fading away.

How was he supposed to go back to the life he’d had before Ellie?

Maybe he was overreacting. She’d said she needed time, not that she didn’t want to see him again. Maybe she would call him or text him, and he could find some way to make it up to her. Maybe he could still make this right. Some part of him wanted to walk down the hill to her house, apologize again, and tell her exactly how he felt about her.

And how do you feel?

Did he love her?

No. Yes. Hell, he didn’t know.

All he knew for certain was that he’d been a better man with Ellie than he could ever be without her.

* * *

On Thursday morning, Ellie dragged herself out of bed, put her heartache over Jesse aside and got ready for heartache of another kind. Today was little Tyler Kirby’s funeral service. She dressed in black, put the kids in their nicest clothes, and met her mother and father at St. Barbara’s. It seemed that everyone in Scarlet Springs had turned out to stand by the Kirby family in their grief, the pews crowded, not even standing room available, the parking lot overflowing.

Eric Hawke passed by in his full fire chief dress uniform.

“You look snappy, young man,” her father said.

“I broke out all the official jewelry today,” Eric said, running his fingers over the golden badge and the pins and medals on his jacket. “Ellie, Mrs. Rouse.”

He seemed to be there in an official capacity. He and his crew took their positions, standing at attention around the tiny casket, which was covered by a white pall and a spray of white roses.

She glanced around and saw Eric’s wife Victoria sitting with Lexi and Lexi’s dad and stepmom. Mrs. Beech was there. So was Joe from Knockers, together with much of his staff, including Rain and her daughter, Lark. Rose, always dramatic, was wearing a black lace veil over her silver hair. Frank from the gas station had come in his finest overalls. Megs sat in the back with most of the Team, no yellow T-shirts this time.

The service started, the guy with the bushy beard who ran the new marijuana dispensary playing hymns on the organ. Ellie wasn’t Catholic, but she did her best to follow along in the program, which included the words they were supposed to say and when to kneel or stand.

The kids had a hard time being quiet, so she and her mom ended up taking turns with them in the nursery area, where they could talk and play without disturbing anyone and where they could hear the service piped in by some kind of microphone system. When communion was finished, Carrie Kirby stood and walked up to the microphone to eulogize her own son.

“All I have of my firstborn son are photographs and happy memories, so please indulge me while I tell you what a wonderful child he was.”

Ellie, who was back in the pew with her father, could not hold back her tears while Carrie, who was remarkably composed, shared stories about Tyler. Ellie wasn’t alone in her tears, audible sobs and sniffs coming from the audience.

“What he wanted most was to be a firefighter. He came home from school to tell me that the fire chief had come to his class and that he’d seen a fire engine. He wore a firefighter costume for that Halloween, and we had a hard time getting him to take it off.”

Quiet laughter.

“Tyler, you are beyond us now. You are beyond pain. But we will always, always love you. God bless you and rest in peace, my sweet darling.” With those words, her knees seemed to go weak, the priest and her husband helping her back to her seat.

Eric and his crew walked up to the little casket and saluted it. The pall was removed and replaced with a small American flag. Then Eric set a firefighter’s helmet next to the flowers. And as the firefighters passed, carrying the casket out to the waiting hearse, Ellie saw tears streaming down Eric’s face.

* * *

Ellie wept as she told Claire about the funeral and the graveside service that had followed and how Carrie had held onto her when she’d paid her respects. “She actually thanked me. I couldn’t save Tyler. None of us could do anything for him, and still, she thanked us—all of us.”

They talked until Ellie had cried herself out.

“So, do I get to ask how it went at the hotel?”

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t quite finished with tears. “I think it’s over between Jesse and me.”

“What? How can it be over? What can possibly have gone wrong in thirty-six hours? You were practically fucking each other with your eyes Tuesday night.”

Ellie told her about their night at the hotel and their day at the Cimarron—how perfect both had been and how horribly the day had ended. “He left the key on my table.”

“Have you heard from him since?”

“No. Nothing. He left the key so that must mean he’s done.”

“Or maybe he thinks you’re done.”

“I told him I needed time, not that I never wanted to see him again.”

“Can I ask you something without you getting mad at me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, I’m going to do it anyway. So what if he knew Dan? What’s the big deal with that?”

“It’s a military thing.” How could she explain this? “You don’t fight beside your buddy, watch him die, then come home and use his wife’s grief to get sex.”

“That’s not what Jesse did. It’s not as if he moved into the cabin knowing who you were and spent the past two years waiting for your car to break down in a snowstorm so he could seduce you and babysit your kids.”

“Well…” Ellie had nothing.

“Besides, you said he and Dan didn’t know each other well, that they just did some missions or actions or whatever together. It sounds like you guys got caught up in something that neither of you expected and that his connection to Dan wasn’t the first thing on his mind. That’s kind of a compliment if you think about it.”

Claire wasn’t getting the point.

“He fucked me in the bed I shared with Dan with Dan’s photos on the walls, and he didn’t think, ‘Maybe I should tell her that I knew her husband.’”

“Are you sure the real issue here isn’t that you feel guilty? Maybe his bringing up Dan brought it all crashing in on you.”

“No!” Ellie realized she’d shouted into the phone, rage mixing with a sinking feeling that her sister might be right. “Why should I feel guilty? Dan wanted me to be happy. He made me promise I would move on. How many times have you told me that?”

“You’ve spent almost four years saying you can’t move on. Then you meet Jesse and you’re magically cured—except that you’re still wearing your wedding ring. Dan’s photos are still all over the walls. Then, when he mentions Dan, you flip.”

Ellie let out a breath, tried not to get upset. “It’s not just that he mentioned Dan. It’s that he knew him. They fought together. He said Dan even saved his life a few times. Dan saved his life. But it took him until yesterday to tell me any of this.”

“Okay, so he ought to have told you. All I know, sis, is that a brave, sexy man cares about you and your kids enough to cook for the three of you, shovel your sidewalk, and fuck your brains out. You need to think hard before you end this.”

“I didn’t say I was ending it.”

“Why would he leave the key unless he believed that’s what you wanted?”

* * *

It was after nine—and a lot of rum—when she knocked on Jesse’s door.

“Jesse, I know you’re in there. Please let me know you’re okay. I’ve called. I’ve texted. I’ve left messages. But you’re not answering.”

She’d called? He hadn’t gotten any damned phone calls or texts. Then he remembered he’d turned his cell phone off, the silence too hard to take.

“I can’t leave the kids home alone for long. I shouldn’t leave them alone at all, but I have to see you. I have to know you’re all right.”

So, this was a welfare check. She didn’t really want to see him. She just wanted to make sure he hadn’t done anything stupid. Well, he hadn’t done anything stupid—if you didn’t count getting drunk in his underwear.

“I’ll call the police, and they’ll break down your door. Please, open up. It’s freezing out here.”

Well, fuck.

He couldn’t afford a new door.

“I’ll call Megs.”

Okay, now Ellie was just playing dirty. Megs would rake his ass over the coals.

He put the bottle down, got unsteadily to his feet, and walked to the front door, then realized she was standing at the side door. He turned, tripped over one of the legs to his sofa and almost fell on his face. He caught himself, straightened up, then walked to the door and opened it.

“Oh, thank God.” She stood there in sub-zero temps in nothing more than a T-shirt and jeans, teeth chattering. “This is the second time you’ve opened the door in your underwear.”

He looked down. “You’re counting?”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“Yeah. Seemed like the right thing to do. You’ve been crying.”

“Today was Tyler Kirby’s funeral.”

Oh. Shit.

“Sorry. That must’ve been hard.”

She nodded. “It was beautiful and horrible. They made him an honorary firefighter and buried him with full honors.”

“That was a good thing to do.”

Damn, it was cold.

“You got your stitches out.”

“I took them out myself. It’s not hard.” He pointed toward his sofa and the wood stove. “You should come in before you become hypothermic.”

She shook her head. “I can’t leave the kids alone like this. I had to know you’re okay. Also, you left something at my house. I want you to have it back.”

She took his hand, pressed something into it.

The key to her house.

His gaze jerked to hers. “Why are you giving me this?”

“Because despite everything I said yesterday, I’m glad you’re in my life. It might be my emotions getting in the way here as much as anything you did or didn’t do. I care about you, Jesse. I said I needed time. I didn’t tell you to get out of my life, did I?”

“It sure sounded like that to me.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

“I should’ve told you. I don’t know why I didn’t. I wasn’t trying to trick you or pull the wool over those pretty green eyes of yours.”

“I believe you.”

He wanted to kiss her but realized his breath was probably a hundred proof. Instead, he reached out and cupped her cheek.

She turned her face into his hand, kissed his palm. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you, too.” He’d never spoken truer words in his life.

With that, she turned and hurried through his backyard, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Close your door, or you’re going to freeze.”

He didn’t shut the door. Instead, he stepped into a pair of boots, grabbed his parka and stood there in his backyard in his underwear, looking like a total jackass and freezing his nuts off, watching to make sure she made it safely home.

When she locked the door behind her, he walked back into his cabin and dumped the rest of the rum down the drain.