Zach wouldn’t go. He’d panicked and run the other way. And when Sean had chased after him, Zach had swung his fists so hard that it had knocked Sean down. He’d been dazed as he staggered to his feet. And by the time he’d shaken it off, Zach was gone. Sean thought about going after him, but he knew there wasn’t time. Later, Sean was absolved of any wrongdoing, but he still blamed himself. Because he’d been Zach’s squad leader. Because he’d chosen life instead of trying to find Zach.
“We’re not together now. We don’t owe each other any explanations,” Sean said.
Tessa lifted her chin, her golden-brown ponytail bouncing against her shoulders. “You mean you don’t owe me any explanations. Is that it?”
He never could fool Tessa. She recognized his reservations for what they were. A wall. A shield. To keep her and everyone else out. But he couldn’t talk about Zach’s death right now. He just couldn’t.
She leaned forward and rested her hands on top of his cluttered desk. “You almost died in that fire with Zach, yet you act as though it never happened. My brother’s death hurt all of us, Sean. It might help if you talk about it.”
“With you?” he asked.
“Sure, why not? We were close friends once.”
He looked away. They’d been more than friends. She’d meant everything to him. “I know, but the reports have been filed. There’s nothing left to say.”
“Sure there is. I’ve tried to give you time. To let you work through this on your own. But it’s obvious you’re in the same place you were in when I left town last September. Nothing’s changed. Nothing’s gotten better. I know you’re hurting, Sean. But I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”
He stared back at her, forcing himself not to blink. He couldn’t tell her about his guilt and PTSD. He had to be strong and overcome it on his own. After all, he was in charge of this hotshot crew now.
“Say something,” she insisted.
He grit his teeth. “I have nothing else to say.”
He spoke the words low. He heard the doubt in her voice. An edge of suspicion and resentment. His mind told him he’d done everything right that fateful day, but he couldn’t believe it. He kept replaying different scenarios over in his mind. If only he’d done this, or that, or something else, then Zach would still be here.
“You used to tell me there was nothing we couldn’t do as long as we worked on it together,” she said.
A caustic laugh slipped from his throat. “Not this time, Tessa. I’m afraid I was wrong.”
She flinched. “If you’ve given up, then I suppose you’re right. We’re finished.”
A fist of emotion lodged in his chest. He caught a glimpse of pain in her eyes and shook his head.
“What about a medical professional?” she suggested. “There are people trained to help with situations like this. A doctor can help you cope.”
That did it. He scooted back his chair and stood, his movements stiff. Reaching for his jacket, he walked to the door and thrust it open. “Look, Tess. I’ve already visited with a psychiatrist and been cleared for duty. I appreciate this intervention thing you’re trying to do here, but I don’t need it anymore. I’m fine. Really.”
Her lips tightened, her eyes shimmering. Oh, no. Please not that. He could stand anything but her tears.
“I’m just trying to understand. I miss Zach,” she whispered.
Ah, that hurt. So much.
“I know you do.” He spoke softly, wishing he could do something to make it all better. Wishing he could take away her pain.
“The worst part is that I lost both of you that day. Not just Zach. I lost you, too,” she said.
What could he say to that? Nothing.
“I wish things could be different. I wish I could bring him back,” he said.
“That’s not what I need you to do, Sean. Zach’s with God now. But I want to understand what happened and why you have shut me out.”
He released a slow breath, trying to ignore the memories of that horrible day as they flashed across his brain. “You’ve read the incident report. You already know everything.”
“Reading that sterile report isn’t the same as talking with you, and you know it. I’d rather read your personal notes instead.”
“Those are confidential. They’re just my ramblings anyway. Nothing you could decipher. The only reason I wrote them down was because my psychiatrist required it.” He shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with her questions. He wasn’t the type of man to go and visit with a shrink. He’d done it only because he had to.
“I’m Zach’s sister. Don’t you think I have a right to know the details?” she asked.
“There’s nothing left to tell. Unless you want to talk about work, we have nothing to discuss.”
She backed up, her face ashen. He’d stung her again, when all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and keep her safe.
“Fine. If that’s the way you want it,” she said.
“It is.” He tightened his hands, forcing himself not to relent. Not to tell her how he really felt. That it should have been him that died on that mountain, not Zach.
“All right, then. Congratulations on your promotion, Sean. I hope you’re happy with your new assignment.” She swept past him to the dark parking lot. The tall mercury vapor lights bathed her in an eerie blue glow.
He longed to call her back. To confide in her like he used to. To speak the words he’d kept locked away since that dreadful day. But he couldn’t. Not about this. Not without winning her condemnation. Just like the day when he’d broken off their engagement, he let her walk away from him without saying one word to stop her.
When she was inside Zach’s truck, he took a deep, settling breath. He watched as she backed out and drove through the front gate, the gravel crackling beneath her tires.
Maybe this fire season wouldn’t be as easy as he thought. He had his share of misgivings about accepting this new promotion. He was definitely qualified to lead the team, yet he feared letting them down. What if he couldn’t do the job? What if he failed? The thought of losing another man under his command made him sweat, but the thought of losing Tessa absolutely terrorized him. In the past he would have told her his deepest fears. But he couldn’t tell her all of this. How could he expect her to understand what he was going through when he didn’t understand it himself?
Heaving a labored sigh, he flipped off the lights and secured the front door. With Brian and Rollo gone, they were down two men. Now the FMO had made him the team’s superintendent. A position he had once aspired to. With a college degree in fire science, he had worked hard with the hopes of one day being given his own hotshot crew to manage. Now that he’d finally reached that goal, he felt deflated. Because it no longer meant anything. Not when he couldn’t share the joy with Tessa.
She was angry and hurting, but at least she was safe. She would recover. Eventually. She’d move on with her life and meet some good man who could make her happy. Someone who wasn’t responsible for her brother’s death. And knowing that she’d share her life with another man hurt Sean most of