Chapter 3 Assignment and Ultumatum

Chapter 1

The Assignment and Ultimatum

Narrator: Captain Elias "Eli" Ward

I've seen cities burn, both from war and wildfire. But there's nothing quite like watching your hometown fall apart slow, from the inside out.

Iron Hollow used to be sturdy. Not flashy, not big. Just reliable. Like an old truck some rust on the corners, but it'd get you home. Then the wildfire swept through five years ago, and whatever was left after that the government took with the base closure. Jobs disappeared. Folks drifted. What's here now feels more like the ghost of a town than a town itself.

But I didn't come back to remember. I came back because there was nowhere else to go.

I was stacking lumber behind the hardware store when my phone buzzed. I ignored it the first time. Then again. Then a third. I yanked off my gloves and pulled it from my jacket.

Betty Jensen.

I almost didn't answer. But if there's one thing you don't do in Iron Hollow, it's ignore the mayor. Especially when she's the one who fought tooth and nail to get you back on your feet, even if you didn't ask her to.

"Yeah," I said.

"Town hall. Fifteen minutes. It's urgent."

"Busy."

"You'll want to hear this. And wear something clean."

The line clicked dead.

I stood there a second, staring at the phone, then at the lumber I hadn't finished sorting. Eventually, I sighed. "Guess we're doing this," I muttered, and whistled for Ash, my one-eyed mutt of a dog, who never let me leave without a fight

Town hall still smelled like burned wood and lemon-scented floor polish. Most of it had been cleaned up after the fire, but no amount of fresh paint could hide what had been lost. I nodded to the receptionist on the way in and followed the sound of heels clicking with purpose down the hallway.

Betty was already waiting inside her office, flipping through paperwork with the speed of someone who'd already won the argument and just needed to go through the motions of pretending otherwise.

She didn't look up when I entered. "Shut the door, Eli."

"You ever just invite someone over for coffee like a normal person?"

She raised a brow. "You don't drink coffee. You drink bitter resentment and chew sarcasm."

I sat down. "Not wrong."

She slid a folder across the desk toward me. "This just came through this morning. Iron Hollow's been approved for a federal emergency restoration grant."

"That so?"

"It's a pilot program. 'Historic Reconstruction for Post-Crisis Communities.' We're one of only three towns approved. $2.4 million."

I let out a low whistle. "They finally giving a damn about us?"

"They're pretending to. That's good enough."

"And let me guess, you need a warm body to play along."

"I need two. A veteran and a civilian expert. Preferably locals. To co-lead the reconstruction."

I leaned back. "I'm not much of a team player these days."

She gave me the kind of look she used to give when I skipped community cleanup as a teenager. "Eli. You're the only person here with military leadership experience and enough construction know-how to manage a team. You're already doing half the work."

"Under the table and quietly. I don't want to lead anything. I came back to stay invisible."

"You came back because you didn't know where else to go. That's not the same thing."

I didn't answer.

She tapped the folder again. "You take the contract, we get full funding, full oversight, and you get health insurance, housing, and paid work for a year."

"Full housing?"

She nodded. "Restored historic site. You'd live there, manage the site as a working residence, and co-direct with the civilian lead."

My stomach twisted a little. I didn't like the way she said co-direct like she'd been rehearsing it.

"And who's the preservationist?"

Her lips pressed together. "Dr. Lillian Quinn."

That name hit like a punch in the gut.

I laughed once. Bitter and sharp. "Of course it is."

"She's accepted the offer."

"She left this town like it was on fire," I said.

"It was," Betty replied dryly. "And you both lost something in it."

I stood up. "This is a setup."

"She's good at what she does. You're good at what you do. And you both need this."

"She doesn't need me."

"She does if she wants the contract."

"And you think sticking us under the same roof will help this town?"

"Think of it as a symbol. Recovery. Rebuilding. Two people scarred by the same fire, learning to"

I held up a hand. "Don't. Don't turn this into a metaphor."

Betty was quiet a long time. Then she said, "I know you still blame yourself."

I clenched my jaw. "Don't go there."

"You made a call in a war zone. It went wrong. That doesn't make you the villain."

"I sent Luke into that building. I gave the order. And he didn't come back."

"And Lily hasn't blamed you"

"She hasn't talked to me."

"That's her right. But she said yes to this. You think she'd do that if she couldn't face you?"

I paced to the window. Outside, the burned husk of the historic inn stood like a ghost. I could still see the scorch marks across the roofline. I used to climb up there with Luke when we were kids and throw paper planes off the edge.

"I don't know if I can work with her."

"You can. You've done harder things."

I turned back to her. "Why are you pushing this so hard?"

"Because this town is dying. We've been bleeding out since the fire. And people need to see that it's possible to come back from something like this. You and Lily, you're both proof."

I narrowed my eyes. "There's more."

She sighed and reached for another page in the folder. "There's a clause."

"Of course there is."

"The housing component was designed for partnered applicants. Originally it was for married couples running long-term site residences. It was never updated."

"What kind of clause?"

She winced. "You and Lily would have to be legally married for the duration of the project."

I stared at her. "You're joking."

"It's administrative."

"It's insane."

"It's not like you have to actually be married-married. It's a legal formality."

"On paper," I said flatly.

"Yes. No rings. No vows. No kissing at town events unless you feel inspired."

I scowled. "Did she agree to that?"

"She doesn't know. Yet."

"Then it's not a contract. It's a trap."

"She'll find out today. Same as you."

I sat back down, heart thudding against my ribs like it wanted to break free. "You're asking me to marry Lily Quinn. For money. For a town that still treats me like I started the damn fire myself."

"You're the best hope this place has. Both of you."

"What if she says no?"

"She won't. You're both too stubborn to walk away from something that matters."

I was quiet for a long time. I thought about Luke. About Lily's face at his funeral, tearless and white. About how she'd walked past me like I wasn't there. Maybe I hadn't been.

"I'll read it," I said.

"That's all I ask."

"I make no promises."

"You never do."