From Air (Wildfire)

Epilogue

JAYMES

Ten days ago, Dwight Keane left this earth to reunite with his wife and the unborn child he never met. I believe he’s making amends for his mistakes.

I believe there’s life after death.

Today, I’m letting him go in a graveyard of burned trees—thousands of skewers pointed toward the blue sky, memorializing a tragedy while slowly fading into the lush green forest floor.

“You’re not an easy person to find.”

I startle, glancing over my shoulder. “What are you doing here?” I barely have a voice. “You’re supposed to be at the Kinney Park fire.”

Fitz retrieves a water bottle from his backpack and takes a long swig. “I heard your father died. Why didn’t you text me?”

Staring at the jar of ashes in my hands, I murmur, “I thought it was good timing. You were busy. Nothing needed to be awkward. I could do what I needed, and that would be that.”

He surveys the area, and I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind while he squints at the sun slicing through the tree skeletons. “Did you know”—he grins, waiting for me to recognize that he’s using my line—“that the cones of certain species of trees need extreme heat to release their seeds? A resin has to be melted for the seeds to be set free. And these seeds grow best in burned soil. Sometimes, for something beautiful to take to life and grow, everything around it has to be sacrificed. All we see is the destruction, but if you wait long enough—if you’re patient— magic happens.” Sticks and crushed rocks crunch beneath his boots while he approaches me.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I whisper.

“Six weeks ago, you said everything . You also said yes.” He takes my hand, fiddling with his mother’s ring on my finger that means more than a promise. It’s a symbol of forgiveness and trust.

All I can do is blink. No one loves as big as Calvin Fitzgerald.

He removes the lid from the jar. “Letting go is hard.” He steps behind me, places his hands over mine, and we scatter the remains together. Emotion stings my eyes.

He presses his lips to my neck and kisses me. “Scattering human remains without a permit can result in a five-hundred-dollar fine and up to six months in jail.”

I laugh, despite the tears. “I have a permit.”

“Liar.” He nips at my earlobe.

“You’re such a rule follower.”

Fitz’s whole face nuzzles into my neck while his arms squeeze me tighter, and I giggle.

“Did you get the job in San Antonio?”

I slide in his arms to face him. “I think so. I have one more interview next week. And if that goes well, I’ll be heading to Texas by the end of the month.”

Fitz grins. “For how long?”

“Two months.”

He hums and nods. “You’ll like Texas.”

I like Calvin Fitzgerald. And if I’d let my heart trump my brain, I’d be looking for a full-time position in Missoula. But Fitz wants me to fly for a bit so I never regret not traveling before having a family. So I plan on finding jobs that coincide with fire season and taking the winters off to hibernate with him in Missoula. And the rest will happen in the right time.

I ground him.

And he makes me soar.

When he releases me, he slides the jar into my backpack before hiking it over his shoulder next to his. Then he offers me his hand, and I take it. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”

“I love you, Fitzy.”

I only see the side of his face, half his ginormous grin. “I know you do.”

I don’t know why I expect any other answer. “And you love me.”

“Too much.”

Our love is magic.