by Amie Denman
“Now that we’re not running anymore, you feel the night air,” he said, putting a light hand on her upper arm. “You’ll get cold.”
“Won’t you be cold?” she asked. They stood close together, Tony’s touch taking away the night’s chill. With one step, she could be in his arms, but that was impossible. Maybe she was interpreting everything wrong and he felt nothing more for her than he did any of the other firefighters. She was not going to make a fool of herself.
Tony shook his head. She accepted the sweatshirt, a navy blue one with the insignia of the Cape Pursuit Fire Department on it, and pulled it on. It was lightweight, just right and obviously Tony’s personal property. It smelled like him—a mixture of fire station and aftershave.
Tony’s radio squawked and he held it up, listening. He turned and gestured to the other three firefighters who were still left. “Ambulance call. You two take it,” he said to Ethan and Kevin, and then he pointed to Gavin, “and you take the pumper back to the station. I put the extra bottled water, bagels and bananas in the cab. Will you put them in the break room?”
Kevin and Ethan jumped in the ambulance and took off, and Gavin fired up the pumper.
“You’re not going?” Laura asked.
“No, I don’t go on every run unless it seems like it could get ugly. This was a call from the front desk at one of the hotels and it sounded like a precaution more than an emergency.”
“So you’re off duty and you can go home and have a hot shower,” Laura said. She was already thinking about how good that would feel when she got back to the home she shared with her sister. She’d run in dozens of races ranging from a few miles to full marathons, and there was nothing like standing in a steaming shower for a long time afterward.
“I never feel like I’m off duty,” Tony said. “But I don’t take my radio into the shower with me.”
Because she was wearing his sweatshirt, Laura could guess what his soap smelled like. It was personal, putting on someone else’s clothing. She felt as if she was crossing a line, but Tony was a nice guy. He would lend a sweatshirt to anyone.
“Thanks for not smoking me at the finish line,” he said.
Laura laughed. “My legs were too heavy to smoke anyone, even if I’d wanted to.”
Tony leaned against the side of his pickup truck. They were alone in the parking lot.
“When I was in high school, I hated running,” Tony said. “I was on the baseball team and didn’t mind lifting weights and going to practice. But the running during conditioning was terrible.”
“You like it now?”
He nodded. “I’ve matured. When I was seventeen, I just ran flat out as fast as I could no matter how far I had to go. Just tried to get from point A to point B. Once I discovered the magic of pacing myself, it changed my life.”
“A good running coach would have told you that. That’s the first lesson for my team. Next year’s team has probably already met up with the head coach for summer training runs, and I’m sure they’ve heard it over and over. Pace yourselves. Sometimes slow and steady really do win the race.”
“You’re missing out on those training runs,” Tony said. “Does that mean you won’t be coaching the team, even if you do go back?”
Laura looked down. She began to feel the weight and lateness of the evening. Was Tony trying to make her doubt the wisdom of staying in Cape Pursuit? Did he wish she would go home and make things a lot simpler, a graceful exit from whatever was developing between them?
“Sorry,” he said, before she had a chance to think of a way to answer him without sounding defensive or angry. She wasn’t angry, just tired of people thinking they had the magical secret to how she could be the happy and productive person she deserved to be.
“I know you said you might not go back to teaching,” he continued. “It’s just that I’ve noticed—”
“What?” she asked, afraid he was going to say she wasn’t cut out for the fire service and maybe she should go back to teaching, no matter how empty it left her.
“I’ve noticed how good you are with other people. You’re patient, intuitive and explain things well. The class average on the volunteer test will probably set a record, and it won’t be because of my instruction.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly. She appreciated his praise, but she also worried he’d said it to cover up something else he wanted to tell her. Did everyone think she should give up her plan to fight fires? Of all people, Tony should have understood her passion for wanting to serve. Wasn’t that why he was there?
“If you weren’t a fire chief,” she asked, “what would you be doing?”
“No idea,” he said. “Never thought about it.”
“That’s not a fair answer,” she said. “We always have choices. There must have been a time when you made the conscious decision to make this your life’s work.”
Tony didn’t answer, but Laura saw a serious expression cross his face, despite the low lighting in the parking lot.
“Have you ever doubted your decision?” she asked. It would make her feel so much better if he had. He couldn’t always be the perfectly composed public servant he appeared to be. Where were the flaws and vulnerabilities that would make him human and make her feel better?
“I should take you home,” Tony said.
“I don’t mind walking.”
Tony opened the passenger door of his truck and held it open. “I would mind if you walked home this late.”
“What’s going to happen in peaceful Cape Pursuit?”
“Anything can happen,” Tony said. A smile broke his grim expression. “You have to pass by three miniature golf courses on your way home, and you could get sucked into an epic tournament that ends at dawn and makes you late to work. Or you could get a killer leg cramp, lie down on a park bench and get arrested for vagrancy.”
Laura laughed and got in the truck. “You have quite an imagination for doom-and-gloom scenarios.”
“That’s my job. My imagination helps me always be prepared.”
* * *
A FEW EVENINGS LATER, Laura opened her front door and her classmates streamed in, each with food to share. Oliver and Richard hauled a roaster with shredded chicken, Skip brought a vegetable tray, Brock and Allen brought chips and buns, Diane brought a chocolate cake on a big platter and Marshall brought two twelve-packs of pop.
“We’re ready for an all-nighter,” Diane declared.
“Is it going to take us all night to review for the test?” Laura asked.
“Honey, I haven’t taken a test in over twenty years. Once I get past putting my name at the top, I’m afraid I’ll freeze up.”
“I’m not a great test taker, either,” Marshall admitted. “I survived the police academy and I knew my stuff, but I sweated those tests.”
The other members of the group didn’t add anything, but they had shown up. Their presence said they were at least worried enough to attend the study session.
Laura helped set up the potluck banquet on the kitchen counter, and Nicole dug through the cabinets for plates and serving utensils. “Thanks for helping,” Laura said. “This isn’t even my house and I invited seven people over.”
“It’s for a good cause,” Nicole said.
Laura waited while everyone got a plate of food and found a seat. Nicole had helped her set up an extra table, and they had dragged in chairs from other rooms.
“As far as test taking goes,” Laura said, “you don’t have anything to worry about. It’s just a matter of being prepared.” She smiled encouragingly at the group.
“There’s a lot to remember,” Brock said. “Types of hazards, department protocol, sheesh.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Laura said. “And the notes we’ve all taken are going to be very handy for us.”
Laura refilled the chip bowls and drinks, then assigned each p
erson a chapter from the manual and had them write down the five most important things, the five things they were afraid they would forget on the test and five questions to quiz the rest of the group with. She had already done chapters one and two, and she began to demonstrate for her classmates so they’d have an example.
Kevin walked in while Laura was modeling the study strategy, and he jumped in and answered one of her questions before she could tell him not to.
“You’ll have to leave,” she said. “This is an invite-only party no matter how much I like you.”
He laughed and surveyed the food lined up on the table. “That cake looks good,” he said.
“If you’re very lucky, there will be a piece left over for you when you bring my sister home later.”
“We’re going out of town, so we’ll be late,” Kevin said. “I could try a piece now.”
Nicole hooked an arm through his. “I’ll get him out of here so he stops bugging you,” she said. “Good luck with your study group.”
“Is Kevin a brother or cousin to Tony?” Brock asked after Kevin and Nicole left. “I know there are a bunch of those Ruggles on the department.”
“Cousin,” Laura said. “He’s marrying my sister in a few weeks and the reception is at the station.”
“So you’ll sort of be related to the chief,” Skip said. His tone wasn’t malicious. He was eighteen and just figuring out the world as far as Laura could tell. Unlike many of her former students who’d been lackluster about school, Skip was refreshingly enthusiastic. He’d said he wanted to be a professional firefighter like his uncle on another department, but that was almost all she knew about him.
“Not really,” Laura said.
Despite all the time the group had spent together, it was surprising they had shared very little about their personal lives. Gathering around a dining room table instead of sitting in industrial chairs at the fire station was nice, but she didn’t want the talk to veer anywhere close to personal when it came to Tony. The last thing she would admit to her classmates was that his sweatshirt was folded on a chair in her bedroom because she was waiting for an opportunity to return it when no one would notice. It wouldn’t look good for someone to see her returning a piece of the fire chief’s clothing.
Laura handed out the study questions she’d written on index cards, hoping to turn the conversation back to the science and skills of firefighting. She liked her classmates and hoped to get to know them better, but they had to focus on the written test coming up in just days. Once past that obstacle, they would prepare for the practical test.
“Work on your chapters, get help from your neighbor if you want, and I’ll be here to help, too,” she said. One of the most valuable things she’d learned from her time in the classroom was that students were much better off having to help themselves instead of having a teacher who did everything.
Tony didn’t have a degree in education, but he had been a very good teacher. It helped that the class was small, interested and a captivated audience. Tony had broken up the content into manageable chunks, provided appropriate materials and kept his lectures interesting with relevant anecdotes and regular trips out to the bays where the trucks and equipment waited. He even wrote his agenda on the whiteboard in the training room at the start of each class.
Laura had listened to every story Tony told, and his narratives showed his humility and compassion for the people he served. He had to possess his fair share of bravery, yet he didn’t brag. If only there were more men in the world like Tony Ruggles. Men who cared about but didn’t control others. Men who would give you their sweatshirt and a ride home whenever you needed them. A man who reserved judgment and would try to help you out of an awkward situation, even if you didn’t remember to say thank you.
Oh, no. Her interactions with Tony going back a year did a quick scroll through her mind as if she were flipping through a year’s worth of photographs on her phone. No, no, no.
She swallowed, afraid her face might give away her thoughts, and excused herself. In the kitchen, she ran a paper towel under the faucet and grabbed the tall kitchen trash can. She counted to twenty and regulated her thoughts with each beat.
“Cleanup run,” she announced as she went back into the dining room. “Round one.”
As she wiped crumbs from the table and scooped paper napkins into the trash can, Laura tried to clear away the troubling thought that she might be falling a little bit in love with Chief Tony Ruggles. Those feelings would torpedo her plans to join the fire service and reinvent her life, and she owed herself the chance to do those things. Caring about him would be a mistake.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“YOU’VE ALL PASSED the written test,” Tony said with a grin at the beginning of class a week later.
“Really?” Brock asked, raising his gray-speckled eyebrows. “Everyone?”
Laura wasn’t at all surprised, but she felt a glow of satisfaction nonetheless.
“In fact,” Tony said, “when I scored them, I discovered your class average was the highest that I know of for new groups of volunteers.”
As she looked around at her cohort, Laura saw smiles and high fives. Marshall reached over and patted her on the back. Even Allen looked pleased, his expression showing none of his usual guardedness. Laura had been surprised and happy when he’d shown up to her study session. Maybe the ice was cracking.
“Can we blow the sirens and pull the air horns now?” Richard asked. “There should be some reward.”
“Maybe we’ll save that for the Fourth of July parade—which you’re welcome to ride along in, by the way,” Tony said. “But we are going to get in the trucks tonight and practice driving them. It isn’t often our volunteers are asked to drive the pumper or the ladder truck. As you know, a lot of times we’re already at a fire when we realize we need your help.”
“I’ve always wanted to drive a fire truck,” Diane said.
Tony laughed. “I remember you saying that on the first night. And guess what? You get to go first.”
“Is it a stick shift?” Diane asked. “My sister had a Toyota with a standard transmission, and I learned to drive one back in college. I think I still remember.”
“Believe it or not, a lot of fire trucks come with an automatic. All of ours do. We traded off the last one with a standard two years ago. You have plenty of other things to worry about on the way to a call, so it’s nice that you don’t have to shift gears while trying to stay safe, hurry and dodge tourists, too.”
“This is going to be great,” Marshall said. “Defensive driving with the police cars was one of my favorite parts of the police academy.”
Gavin stuck his head in the door. “All set up, Chief.”
“Thanks,” Tony said. “Everybody ready? We’ve got cones set up on the apron behind the station where we’re not likely to have an audience. We’ll take you one at a time and go through a course forward and backward. It’s not easy, but if you go slow and use your mirrors, we’ll get you through it.”
Laura had been looking forward to this part of the training, too. There was something about those trucks that fired on all her sensory cylinders. The sound, sight and smell were tangible signs that someone who could help had arrived. She liked the trucks in the same way that she liked shopping for school supplies for her classrooms. Stacking up books, folders and erasers with their distinctive textures and aromas made the process of education seem as if it were something she could touch.
Beyond the equipment, the fire service remained tangible whereas teaching did not. Instead of wondering if her words and lessons would change students’ lives at some distant point in the future, her actions as a member of the fire department would have an immediate effect. Flames could be extinguished. Lifesaving oxygen administered. A crash victim removed from a mangled car. Real results in real time.
“You have all taken part in three or four Sunday
inspections, so you know the trucks, but driving them is different,” Tony said as he stood outside next to the open driver’s door of the first pumper. “It’s a great responsibility—”
“But awesome,” Gavin interjected.
Tony laughed. “He’s not wrong.”
Laura heard nervous laughter around her. She wondered if anyone else in the group had ever driven such a large, expensive or important piece of machinery. She’d driven the eight-passenger van to a few cross-country meets when there weren’t enough participants to warrant a giant school bus. She’d had to pass a short test and show her proof of insurance, but that was nothing like this.
“See that line of cones?” Tony said, pointing to about a dozen orange traffic cones lined up in a curving pattern. “All you have to do is stay on the right side of the cones on the way down the line and then the left side on the way back.”
“Easier said than done,” Oliver said. “I had to do something like this with a forklift at the plant and get certified. I was more nervous than when I was sixteen, going for my driver’s license.”
“Which time?” his brother asked. “The first try or the third?”
“Hey,” Oliver said. “That guy had it in for me. I swear I didn’t hit that bird on purpose.”
“Barring birds and nerves, you’ll be fine,” Tony said. “I’ll ride shotgun with each of you, but I won’t offer suggestions unless you ask. Remember, there was a first time for all of us, and now driving these big trucks is second nature.”
Laura wasn’t sure it would ever be as easy as squeezing her hatchback into a parking space at the grocery store, but she appreciated Tony’s attempt to put everyone at ease. It was one of the many things she...liked...admired about him. She quickly put that thought out of her head because she had to focus on what she was doing, not on why she should not have feelings for the fire chief. If she wanted to reinvent her life, she had to remain in control of it.
