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“I think you may be right. So you have a job but still live with Mama?” She laughed with me about it, although the tone of her voice worried me.

“That better not be a turnoff, Lace, not now after everything we’ve been through this week. I usually stay in the camper most of the year. But with bunk beds, it needs a remodel beforeit’s fitting enough for us. When Dad died, each of us kids got a couple of acres here on the property. I’ve saved more than enough money to build, but haven’t had time to think about it yet—or a reason to, until now.”

She seemed to ponder the situation for a minute. “And my house will need rebuilt once the insurance money comes in. It’s a lot to think about.”

“It is, but we have all the time in the world to talk and figure things out. Right now, I’m not able to think of anything beyond round two.”

“Round two?” She questioned, then yelped as I picked her up and carried her with me into the lake.

“I’ve had a five-alarm fire for you for far too long to stop at once today, baby.” I nearly died yesterday, but she didn’t need to know how much I thought about that. If this was my second chance, I‘d damn well live in the moment with her.

She giggled, snuggling closer, holding me tighter the deeper in the water we got. The lake took us in with open arms like we belonged there together.

Somewhere behind us, life waited—houses to rebuild, rumors to rewrite, forever to figure out—but right now I had my whole world in my arms, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

Not anymore.

18

ASHES AND ECHOES

HUDSON

At the cemetery,I stood tall, hand wrapped tight around Lacey’s. Our fingers linked like they’d always known each other. She leaned slightly into me, her shoulder brushing mine, steady and silent. Just being here with her made everything bearable.

A few folding chairs had been set up, and half the town had turned out for the memorial because they cared. Mama sat front and center, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Carson was beside her, Emme tucked into his side. The other brothers stood around in jeans and boots and crisp, ironed shirts, heads bowed as we gathered to honor the two men who’d died one night—my dad, and Lacey’s.

A shared town tragedy that had never stopped rippling through this community or our families.

I stepped forward when the pastor gave me a nod. My throat tightened, but I cleared it and held my head high.

“My dad wasn’t the kind of man who needed a spotlight,” I began, voice rougher than I liked. “He was the kind of man who fixed what was broken, showed up when it mattered, and didn’t waste words. If he loved you, you knew it because he’d be the first to help you. Loyal to a fault.”

A soft ripple of murmurs moved through the crowd, as if in agreement.

“I always thought being a good man meant doing something big. Heroic. But the truth is, being good means showing up for the people you love, every day, especially when it’s hard.”

I glanced at Mama, saw the pride in her eyes. Then looked at Lacey. I gave her a wink. With any luck, the fire, the hard times, would remain behind us.

“My dad died a hero. So did Paul Andrews, Lacey’s father. The best thing I can do is to build a life and raise a family here and hope it even comes close to what they stood for. Thank you for being here today and honoring these two brave men.”

I finished and was about to step away when I was interrupted by the mayor.

“Folks,” Mayor Jones said, stepping forward. “We’re not only honoring the past today—but a man who made us proud this week. Hudson Goodson saved a fellow firefighter’s life. For that, I’m honored to present him with the town’s honorary key.”

People clapped and cheered for me. The Poppy Daily reporter took a photo of me, but I didn’t do what I did for praise. I ducked my head and made my way back to Lacey. People clapped me on the back as I moved past them.

She squeezed my arm and dabbed at a tear in her eye. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

There was a long pause and people quieted down before the pastor stepped back up, letting everyone know it was time to privately pay respects.

Lacey slipped away toward the far row where her mother’s and father’s graves sat, side by side. I followed but hung back, letting her have the moment with them she deserved.

But I couldn’t stop myself from inching a little closer—just enough to hear her soft words carried on the breeze.

She knelt between the stones, fingers brushing the top edge of her mother’s name.

“Hi, Mom. I know it’s been a while. I should’ve come home sooner. I just didn’t know how to say goodbye.”