The Firefighter's Vow

by Amie Denman

“You’ll get a partner,” Tony said. “And the two of you will race the clock to roll out hose, hook to the hydrant on the street behind the station and charge the line.” Tony gestured to a red fire hydrant waiting for them. They’d learned all about hydraulics, water pressure and the importance of getting the hose rolled out and ready before giving the signal to open the water valve. Once charged, they had learned about several ways to control the end of the hose and direct the water.

  But tonight they were going to try it in the pouring rain.

  Gavin Kennedy and two other firefighters were suited in their gear to help with the training. Tony pointed to Oliver and Skip and paired them up. Then Marshall and Diane, Richard and Brock, and finally Laura and Allen.

  Allen would have been her last choice only because she didn’t know how to predict his behavior. Still, though he hadn’t made any friends, he’d shown up to every class and paid attention with total intensity. Laura remembered the first night of class when he’d declared he wasn’t afraid of anything.

  “Which end do you want?” Allen asked, skipping a friendly greeting. “I can handle either one.”

  Of course you can. Laura smiled. “I can, too, so you go ahead and choose. Roll hose or hook and open the hydrant?”

  They’d already been told that the person who stays on the hydrant end to hook up the hose and open the hydrant must then run the length of the hose their partner had rolled out. They both needed to have their hands on the nozzle at the end and direct the stream to hit an orange cone to complete the timed task. Both jobs were physically tough and demanded speed and strength.

  “You do the hydrant. You know how, right?” he said.

  In addition to reading and annotating the chapter in the book about couplers, valves and hydrants, Laura had also been in the front row when Tony demonstrated using the spanner wrench to unleash the water inside the hydrant. She had absorbed everything he said, fully aware that someone’s life might one day depend on her knowledge. It could be her own life, Tony’s, her future brother-in-law’s or anyone on the Cape Pursuit Fire Department.

  “I know how,” she said. She wanted to ask him if he knew how to roll out a reel of hose, but she didn’t want to make an enemy of the man. He reminded her of one of the guys she had dated over the winter. An assistant football coach, Eric always wanted to prove himself to other men. Allen had that same hungry expression. Not a bad guy, but a guy who would benefit from more confidence in himself. “I know you’ll do great at laying out the hose. You’ll probably be the fastest one,” she said.

  A flicker of a smile passed over Allen’s face, but it was quickly overcome by his grim determination. Fine; she’d tried.

  Two teams lined up next to the hydrant and Gavin got ready to time them with the stopwatch app on his phone, which he sheltered under his fire helmet from the heavy rain. He’d already told them their times only mattered for bragging rights and they could learn a lot from the exercise no matter how they placed.

  “Go!” Tony yelled.

  Laura looped a section of hose around the hydrant to give herself some slack and prevent her partner from pulling it away from her. She attached her hose to the hydrant and waited, spanner wrench in hand, as she watched Allen roll the hose out straight and flat—well, mostly, except for an S-curve about halfway down. He gave her the signal that he was ready for water, and she assumed he was done laying the hose. She opened the valve on top of the hydrant, made sure the water started charging through the hose and took off running.

  She was proud of being able to run despite the wet pavement, heavy clothes and awkward boots, and she chose a path right along the hose so she’d have the shortest route. No other teams had attempted the task yet, so she had no way to judge how fast she and Allen would compare. It certainly seemed as if they were kicking butt.

  Laura was halfway down the length of fire hose when Allen suddenly grabbed and tugged the hose to try to pull out the curved section. Running fast right alongside the hose that had now moved, Laura’s foot came down and rolled over the top of the rigid hose.

  In one sickening moment, she knew she was going down. Too much speed and heavy gear combined with the element of surprise gave her no time to pivot or react. She tried controlling her fall, but she had to let go and let it happen, crashing headlong into the concrete and rolling twice. Her helmet came off and she heard a loud gasp from the spectators. She felt the entire thing as if she were in an action movie. When she landed on her back, she looked up into Tony’s face. His eyes were wide, his hair streaked with rain, and he bent over her as if she were a glass vase that had smashed on the floor.

  “Get me up,” she said, holding up one gloved hand.

  “No,” he said. “Stay still. You may be hurt.”

  Laura did a quick review of her body parts and decided she had only one choice: finish the competition. She ignored Tony, rolled to her feet and got up. She grabbed her helmet, jammed it on her head and raced to the end of the line where Allen waited, stunned by her fall.

  “I’m ready,” she said. She grabbed the nozzle, and Allen nodded at her and turned it on. Together they aimed it at the orange cone and knocked it over quickly with the force of their stream.

  “Time,” Gavin yelled. “And that was one heck of a show.”

  “Sorry,” Laura said to Allen as he closed off the flow of water from the nozzle.

  “My fault for moving the hose,” he grunted. And then he looked at her with a small gleam of friendliness, water dripping off the edge of his helmet. “You got up.”

  Tony stalked up to Laura, his face red under the rivers of water.

  “I always get up,” she said to Allen.

  “Not when I tell you not to,” Tony said.

  “Sorry.” Laura shook her head. “Sometimes I get back up especially when people are least expecting it.”

  “Inside,” he said. “I want to check you over and make sure you’re not hurt.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, holding out both arms and turning in a slow circle. “All my limbs are attached and working like they’re supposed to.”

  “Go,” he said, pointing toward the station.

  If it hadn’t been pouring rain, Laura might have argued, but going inside was appealing. And, now that the adrenaline had abated, one of her elbows did feel as if someone had rubbed it with sandpaper and soaked it in rubbing alcohol.

  As she trudged into the station where her classmates waited just out of the rain, Laura wondered if Tony planned to order her into the ambulance for a medical assessment. It was nice that he cared, and she couldn’t get the image of his worried expression out of her mind. Of course, he cared for everyone under his command. She wasn’t special. Was she?

  “Diane,” Tony said. “Will you help Laura out of that gear and make sure she’s okay?”

  “Sure,” Diane said.

  “I’m fine,” Laura protested.

  “We’ll see,” Tony said. He turned and walked back to the group, but he glanced over his shoulder as if to make sure Diane was following orders.

  “Let’s go in the break room,” Diane said. “Not so many eyes there.”

  Laura left a puddle of water on the concrete floor. “Let me take this gear off here and leave it over a drain,” she said. “I don’t want to mess up the carpet in the break room.” Diane helped her out of the coat and Laura stepped free of the bunker pants and boots. She felt twenty pounds lighter, but she was damp with rain and sweat. She clapped a hand over her elbow when the air hit it and bit her lip.

  “I did the ambulance inspection last Sunday,” Diane said as she inspected Laura’s arm. “I know just where the first aid supplies are kept.”

  “It’s no big deal, just a scrape.”

  “So we’ll toss a bandage on it and you can get back in action,” Diane said. She opened the side door of the ambulance and they both got in. Laura sat on the vinyl
bench seat while Diane gathered an antiseptic wipe, some antibiotic cream and some gauze and wrap. “That’s a nasty scrape.”

  “I can’t even see how it happened under that heavy coat. You’d think you could jump off a bridge and survive with that gear.”

  “I wouldn’t advise it,” Diane said. “I couldn’t believe you popped right back up after that spectacular wipeout.”

  “Experience,” Laura said.

  “You fall down a lot?”

  “Not literally, but life seems to want to throw challenges my way, just to see what I’ll do.”

  Diane put soothing ointment on Laura’s elbow. “Is that why you’re joining the department?”

  “You mean, do I think being a first responder will help me stomp out my own fires?”

  Diane laughed. “You could put it that way.”

  Laura took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s hard for me to put into words why I’m here. And you’re probably going to think it’s the worst possible place for me if I tell you.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “It’s okay. It’s really no secret. Tony and Kevin both know, and a few of the others, I think.” Laura gathered her courage for a moment, a preparation of sorts she always had to go through before she could say the words. It was easier than it had been, but she didn’t think she’d ever be able to say the words lightly. “My younger brother, Adam, was killed fighting a forest fire. Two years ago. He was twenty-one and he wanted to...” Her voice faltered a moment but she bolstered it with a deep breath. “He wanted to help people.”

  “Oh, honey,” Diane said. “That must have been terrible.”

  “It was. It still is.”

  “And that’s why you want to do this? To honor his memory?”

  “Yes and no,” Laura said. “I’ve tried a lot of things to help me accept his loss. I threw myself into work, I tried drinking to forget, I dated some guys who were so wrong for me that they made my life seem somehow right.” She sighed and fought tears. “And through it all, I blamed myself because he was my little brother, and I’m the one who encouraged him to join the summer fire brigade.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “It feels like it.” Laura smiled at Diane. “I’ve never even told my parents what I just told you, and they’re going to panic when they find out what I’m doing.”

  “So what will you do now?”

  “I’m done with running from my grief. I’m going to face it head on by doing something for other people. Not because Adam died, but so I can live.”

  Diane nodded and secured the gauze in place with a piece of tape. “When you feel helpless, help somebody.”

  “Exactly,” Laura said. “And you know what? So far, I really like this. I like the trucks and the people and the knowing what to do in an emergency. I may even learn to walk in those boots without face-planting if I stick it out long enough.”

  “If you do, you’ll have to share your secret with me. With my short legs, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move gracefully in that gear, but nothing’s going to stop me from trying,” Diane said.

  Laura heard a shoe on concrete just outside the ambulance door, and she expected to see Tony put his head in to check if she was alive despite her refusal to follow his orders. No one looked in on them, though, and she thought she must have heard wrong.

  “We should get back out there,” Laura said.

  “You want to see if any of the other teams are beating your time, right?”

  “If anyone does,” Laura said, smiling at her friend, “I hope it’s you.”

  * * *

  TONY WANTED TO stand in the pouring rain and let it soak him all the way through, but people would wonder if he’d lost his mind.

  Not because Adam died, but so I can live.

  Laura’s words to Diane had been private. Not meant for him or anyone else. He wondered if even her sister knew what drove Laura to become a firefighter. Her reason was raw and vivid, and quite possibly the best damn reason he’d ever heard for becoming a rescuer. Wanting to help other people so hard that you need it to live was both inexpressibly wonderful and terribly dangerous.

  He’d thought Laura might be approaching the fire service with passion but a tender heart. It was even worse than that. Someone who believed so strongly in the work was bound to have her heart broken—perhaps irretrievably—the first time she failed to save someone. And it would happen. It had happened to all of them. What would such a fall do to Laura Wheeler?

  “I hope you didn’t start without me,” Diane said to Marshall. “I’m ready to do this.”

  Marshall slung an arm around Diane. “Couldn’t go without my partner. The two teams that tried it while you were patching up Laura didn’t have any interesting mishaps, but their performance seemed to lack speed. Gavin is keeping the times a secret until we’re all done.”

  “Excellent,” Diane said. “As far as we know, we’re playing for first place.”

  Tony grinned. Diane wasn’t quite old enough to be his mother, but she was a role model for getting older without having hang-ups about it. He liked the way she was friendly to everyone and showed confidence without arrogance. She was a lot like Laura, and it was obvious that the two women had bonded.

  He turned and looked into the station, wondering if Laura was going to suit up and come back out or if she was taking a break.

  “How is Laura?” he asked Diane.

  Diane pointed to Tony’s other side where Laura stood in full turnout gear, just inside the station.

  “I’m fine,” Laura said. “A minor scrape but a grave injury to my pride. Running is supposed to be my superpower, but I don’t think anyone is going to believe it after tonight.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Tony said, “Or anyone’s. These things happen when you try to hurry.”

  “Then maybe you should have Gavin put away the stopwatch and we’ll all amble through the exercise as if we have all the time in the world,” Laura said, giving him a sideways grin from under the visor of her helmet.

  Tony smiled and shook his head. “I think you’re up, Diane.”

  While they watched the last team race the clock to charge the line and knock down the orange cone, Tony was highly aware of Laura standing next to him. The falling rain made a curtain through which they could see Diane and Marshall working together. The other five members of the group stood on the other side of Laura. When she had fallen, he wasn’t the only person to rush out in the rain to try to help her.

  All six spectators from her class had run to help, and Tony wondered if they had all feared the worst, as he had. It was a terrible fall, but Laura had taken it completely in stride. He’d heard what she told Diane about life giving her challenges.

  “We have to find her shorter pants and boots that fit better,” Laura said as she watched Diane roll out the length of hose.

  “We?” Tony asked.

  “I mean you.” She pointed around at the group. “Us, you know, everyone. The department.”

  “I know,” Tony said. “When volunteers finish their training and decide for certain on a commitment, we invest in gear for them. It’s expensive, so we prefer to share gear only when we’re sure.”

  It would have been the perfect opportunity to ask her if she intended to stay in Cape Pursuit and become a full-time volunteer, but he couldn’t open that conversation with other people around. He’d been stunned at the restaurant, and he wondered if Nicole’s negative reaction and the potential displeasure of her parents might derail her decision to stay longer than the summer.

  Tony turned his attention back to the physical drill. Marshall had the hydrant on, the water was quickly charging the line and he was racing to the other end where Diane waited with the nozzle already aimed at the orange cone.

  “I think he’s going to beat my time if he stays
on his feet,” Laura said. “Not that I’m surprised.”

  “You can try again another time. This was just practice with the added challenge of weather.”

  “Only a few weeks left of training,” Laura said. “And a few weeks until my sister’s wedding. Have the guys gone to get measured for their suits yet?”

  Tony nodded. “A few days ago. I went with Kevin and Tyler and their dad.”

  “Like a Ruggles family reunion,” Laura commented.

  “Seems like every day is a Ruggles family affair around here. But we don’t usually dress up.”

  Although his dad had recently retired from the chief’s spot, there were still often at least three members of his family at the station. The firefighters were like a family to him in other ways, too, and standing there chatting with Laura as they watched Diane and Marshall high-fiving each other in the pouring rain reminded him of how close a connection they had. Her sister was marrying his cousin who was like a brother to him. They would almost be related. It was one more reason why he needed to keep his relationship with Laura strictly professional.

  Maybe if he thought of her as a sister or cousin it would help, but he struggled to see her that way. Her smile, bravery and fleeting flashes of vulnerability made him want to take her in his arms and protect her from life, from everything. Yet that was the last thing she needed. Laura didn’t want to exist in a velvet-lined version of the world. She wanted to face it. Was she testing herself?

  If so, she had come to the right place.

  “I wish I had taken pictures of this,” Laura said. “It would be fun for all of us to remember how we started. When we’re up there on the firefighters’ hall of fame, we might forget what it felt like to be beginners,” she added, laughing.

  “I remember everything,” Tony said. “Especially the firsts.” He didn’t want to tell her how vividly he recalled the first time he had failed, faced death without being able to do anything about it and grieved behind closed doors when the trucks were all washed and parked in the station.

  “Well, I’d like to think of my performance tonight as a last and not a first,” Laura said. “But I have a feeling this won’t be the last time I’ll have a spectacular crash.”