Callie watched Macy let herself inside the big house, and forcing a smile on her face, joined the crowd at the fire.

Michael came up to her immediately, but then just looked at her.

"What?"

"I'm fighting the urge to grab you and hold on." He let out a low laugh and spread out his hands in front of him. "I don't want to be overbearing or pushy."

"Well, you're in luck." She leaned on him. "I could use a little TLC."

His arms came around her and he held on, resting his chin on her head. "You gave me gray hair today."

"The shed incident?"

"Yeah, the shed incident. Holy shit. But also because you're pulling away from me. I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to choose between me and the ranch. I'm sorry I overstepped the boundaries and kissed you like that."

"Michael, I can't stand it that I'm hurting you, but-"

"But this is how it is. I know. And this is all you have to give me. I know that, too." After another moment, he pulled away, offering her a small smile designed to hide his feelings. As he headed back to the fire, a pang went through her, because she knew that after today things might never be the same. It scared her because she didn't have that many people in her life, and the ones she did have were all important to her, so very important. And yet she couldn't give what she didn't have, she just couldn't.

She moved around the fire, making small talk with the guests, checking to see that everyone was happy and having a good time. Lou and Marge stopped her, with Marge clucking over her like a mother hen. After assuring them that she was fine, Callie kept moving. Eddie squeezed her hand. Tucker did the same, adding a long, searching look as if to make sure she was really okay.

She was on the far side of the large fire now. She wanted to be alone, wanted to check on Sierra, and then maybe hit the sack. It was early but she felt the weight of the day like a lead ball.

"Callie." Stone appeared at her side. His usual happy smile was nowhere in sight. "God, Callie, I'm so sorry. It's just that we were rushing to clean up, and I knew I had to hurry if I wanted to get all the chores done, so I just shoved everything in the shed. I meant to get back to it, clean it all out, I swear." His eyes were tortured. "If I'd known you'd get shut in there-"

"I know."

"I should have just let the animals wait for once, I never should have just walked away from paint, especially the rags. I know better, I do. And I wasn't drinking until later-"

"It's okay," she said quietly, reaching for his hand. "It was a mistake any of us could have made."

"I wasn't drinking," he said again.

"I know." She took his other hand and looked into his eyes. "But you are drinking at night. A lot. It's never been any of my business," she said when he would have spoken. "It's never affected your work here."

"It doesn't. It won't."

"Stone..." She squeezed his hands. "I don't want to worry about you."

"You don't have to."

"But I do. And so does Eddie."

He was quiet a moment, and then he grimaced. "Yeah." He lowered his voice. "I guess, to tell you the truth, sometimes I worry, too."

"Oh, Stone."

He tried smiling but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I can fix this. I can stop. I will stop."

"You could get help."

"I'll be fine."

"But-"

"I'll be fine," he repeated, and let her hug him. And when he'd gone back to the fire, she continued walking the grounds, checking on the animals. She made sure Sierra was okay, petted the puppies, and then found herself, an hour after she'd left it, going back into the big house. Macy came down the hall. "You were right. One solid aching muscle, the poor guy. I put him right to sleep. You didn't tell me about his injuries. I'm going to go out and sit by the fire to give him a few minutes."

Callie waited until she was gone, then peeked into the weight room. Like a moth to a flame, she thought. The candles were still lit, the portable CD player still on so that the sounds of the ocean spilled softly into the air.

She had no business intruding, and she faltered a moment while her mind argued with her hormones, but it all backed up in her throat at the sight of Jake's big, beautiful body sprawled face down on the massage table, fast asleep.

Macy had pulled the sheet up to the small of his bare back. His left arm was up, cradling his head, his right arm straight along his side. She could see his scar as it curved over his shoulder. His back was sleek with the oil Macy had used, except- Except for beneath his right shoulder blade, where a healing burn marked the span of her two hands. She'd not seen him without his shirt from behind before, and he'd never said...But the implications of his accident, of saving a kid, then falling three stories through burning floors, finally sank in.

Looking at him, she felt such an ache, such an inexplicable longing she couldn't explain it, even to herself. What was she doing? They had such different lives, and such different dreams...and still she stood there watching over him, guarding his sleep, wondering and wishing.

Jake woke up the next morning to the scent of coffee. Since Tucker didn't give a shit about improving the quality of Jake's morning, he knew he had to be dreaming.

"Get your ass up, I'm not going to serve it to you in bed."

Jake cracked an eye and took in the sight of his brother scowling at the foot of the cot, which meant that Jake had somehow managed to stumble back to the cabin last night on his own. Vaguely he remembered doing so, and being chased across the grass by Goose.

Tucker wore only his boxers, hair wild, but God bless him, he held two steaming mugs, and was sipping from one. Jake sat up and braced for the usual shaft of pain to go through his aching body, but surprisingly enough, it didn't come. "Macy's a goddess."

"Yeah." Tucker nodded toward his shoulder. "Getting better?"

"Is that longing I hear in your voice?" Jake stood up and took the mug of coffee.

"Well, you did say you'd go back to firefighting as soon as you were fit."

A pang of nerves went through him. When the hell would he be fit? "Which would get me out of here, of course. And out of your hair."

Tucker just sipped his coffee.

"The love and caring in the room is overwhelming," Jake said dryly, and turned away. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Yeah-Holy shit."

Jake glanced over his shoulder. Tucker's gaze was locked on Jake's back.

"A burn?"

"Yeah."

Tucker let out a low whistle. "That fire really screwed you up."

"Not too bad. Don't worry, Tuck, I'll be gone soon enough." One way or another. He moved toward the bathroom, thinking maybe a shower would help improve his sudden bad mood. He took great pleasure in getting to the bathroom first for a change, where he planned on using all the hot water. On principal, he slammed the door behind him.

He took a good hard look at himself in the mirror. He was tanner than he'd been, and some of the exhaustion had left his face. Despite the two-day-old beard he looked healthier than when he'd first arrived.

And yet he'd been here, what, nearly three weeks? Amy still jumped when he so much as looked at her. Stone and Eddie went out every night and had never invited him, not once. His own brother couldn't wait for him to heal and go far, far away, and Callie...

Callie actually thought he could kiss her the way he'd kissed her, and then turn around and sleep with Cici. Flattering.

And worse than all that, he didn't have a frigging clue as to what to do with the rest of his life if he couldn't go back to firefighting, which was beginning to look like the case.

"Jake." Tucker knocked at the bathroom door.

"I'm not done." He grabbed his toothbrush, turned on the sink.

"About last night, when Callie got stuck in the shed with those fumes..."

Jake turned off the water. "What about it?"

"You realized before anyone else that she'd been gone too long."

"Jesus. I didn't shut her in there-"

"I didn't think you did. I'm trying to thank you, damn it."

Jake craned his neck and stared at the closed door. "Thank me?"

"Yeah. For the help."

"For the help," he repeated slowly, and set down his toothbrush. Polite, he'd give his brother that. "I don't want to be thanked, Tucker, like...like I'm some guest."

"You are a guest."

At that, he hauled open the door. "I have as much a right to be here as you do. Or maybe you've forgotten who brought you here, who owns the land and signs your paychecks."

Tucker's eyes flashed. "Don't worry, I've never forgotten who dumped me here."

"Dumped?" Jake gaped at him. "I didn't-"

"I was used to it by then though."

"Are you talking about when I went to San Diego? When you were five and-"

"I remember how old I was when you walked out."

"Tucker-"

"I missed you." On that furiously uttered admission, Tucker turned away, moving around the couch as he started hunting up clothes. He jammed a bare foot into a discarded pair of jeans that turned out to be Jake's. "Shit." He threw them at Jake, who caught them just before they hit him in the face. "We're fucking slobs," he muttered, and hunted up a pair of his own.

Jake stood there still holding his jeans, shocked. "I tried to see you. But-"

"Mom wouldn't let you. Yeah, I've heard that before."

"You don't believe it."

Tucker buttoned up his jeans and looked at Jake. "Why would she keep us apart?"

Because she was a selfish bitch, was Jake's first thought. But Mary Ann had treated Tucker differently. He'd been her baby in a way Jake had never been, because when Jake had been born, Mary Ann had still been a baby herself.

"She said you took off, that you never looked back." Tucker stood there shirtless and barefooted. For once his expression was clear of derision or anger, just a need to know.

He wanted a real answer. Jake didn't know if the one he had was good enough. "If I'd never looked back, how would I have known you were in trouble?"

Tucker stared at him for a long moment. "You called us?"

Jake nodded. "It was hard to keep track of you with her moving you guys around, but I did the best I could."

Tucker looked confused. "She said..."

"That I'd left without a word? Yeah, she always was fond of playing the victim."

Tucker frowned, and after a long moment, turned away. "Save me some hot water."

"Yeah." Well, Jake wondered, had he expected Tucker to smile and hug him and say all was well? That was never going to happen. He shut the bathroom door and cranked on the hot water. When he came out, Tucker was gone and Jake had a message on his cell from Joe.

"No news on the lawsuit," Joe said on the message. "But there was a reporter at the fire station today wanting a press picture of you. So was a group of women who claimed to run your fan club. They wanted pictures, too." Joe's voice held amusement. "Maybe I should hunt up some from over the years and put them on eBay, raise some funds for the station..."

Jake tossed his cell phone to his bed. He left the cabin thinking it was all well and good for Joe to make fun, he could still do his job. He hadn't been forced out of a career he loved with all his heart.

And Jake hadn't been forced out, either, he assured himself. At least not yet. But his shoulder twitched and so did something deep inside. Knowing damn well it was the denial and fear, the same feelings that haunted his dreams at night, he walked faster, but there was no running from such dark emotions. They followed him everywhere.

The sun hadn't yet risen. He put one foot on the grass and, predictably, Goose came running. Jake lifted his foot off and she skidded to a stop in front of him, guarding, waiting for him to make a move.

"What do you do, have hate meetings with Moe?" he asked. He could almost see his father in the damn goose's dark gaze. Look at what I built without you. Look at what you wanted no part of. Look at what I left you to screw up....

He turned his back on the damn goose. Tucker was in the pasture doing something with the horses there. He could see his blue silhouette as the first sunbeams flashed over the rocky, bushy mountains like flames. He hadn't asked anyone if that was how the ranch had gotten its name, and that bothered him. Suddenly he wanted to know, not that Tucker would tell him. Shivering in the chilly air, he kept walking. Voices came out of the barn, Stone's and Eddie's. The sun rose quickly now. Way out beyond the pasture, coming in from the hills like the opening credits of a western, was a horse and rider.

Even knowing it was Callie riding, Jake still wished he could switch the channel and find a good basketball game instead.

Goose let out a honk, probably to a bird who dared land on her precious grass, but Jake figured the sound for his father's spirit, laughing at him.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten dinner last night. Between Callie getting stuck in the shed and him hurting his shoulder and his subsequent massage, he'd missed the barbeque, and his mouth watered at the thought. The food had been surprisingly good out here but, damn, he missed drive-thrus. He missed Starbucks. He missed jelly-filled donuts on the way to his shift at the firehouse.

And that wasn't all. He missed surfing on lazy mornings. He missed the roar of the waves. He missed the green rolling hills.

Beneath his feet he could feel the vibration of Sierra galloping closer. Callie wore her cowboy hat, long, red hair streaming out behind her as she effortlessly rode the rough terrain.

He'd never known a woman like her. She was tough yet soft, sweet yet hard. A challenge through and through. She rode Sierra in, slowed her down.

Sierra didn't like slowing down. Still raring to go, she trotted around, tossing her head, snorting her displeasure at having to stop. "Shh," Callie soothed, and looked at Jake. "You going to try to rescue me again?"

"Nope."

"Did the massage help?"