May first had been the cutoff for brush clearance, so on this round they simply gave out warnings. They already had a map of residents that needed yearly reminders, followed by a warning, followed by a date the city or county would take action. In cases where the homeowner didn’t comply, men were hired to do the job and a bill given to the resident. All in an effort to keep them safe.
They were climbing back in their truck after a less than friendly interaction when Tom started to bitch. “Well, that was fun.”
“He pisses and moans every year. By July he makes an effort,” Captain Arwin told them.
“How long have you been on this route again?” Matt asked.
“Ten years at this station. Been in the valley for almost twenty. The only time we have less complainers is after a big fire. The fact we’ve only had a few today is proof that last year’s fire made an impression.”
Tom shook his head. “They’ll forget by next year.”
Jessie climbed in last and closed the door.
“Only a couple more hours of this and we can call it a day,” Arwin said.
Matt moaned and reached for the headset as Tom started the massive truck. As he did, their radios signaled a call.
“Oh, thank God,” Matt sighed.
Tom turned in his seat to look at him with the same smile on his face.
A fire was a hell of a lot better way to spend the day than knocking on doors. As sick as he knew that sounded, it was why they all became firefighters to begin with.
A brush fire off the interstate in Stevenson Ranch had broken out, and since the area was dense with residential homes, dispatch was sending in half a dozen trucks.
Before they got there, the fire had consumed ten acres and was racing up a hillside toward a tract of homes. There were already crews on the south flank, and their rig was diverted to the structures that would come in contact with the flames first.
The neighborhood was like most in the Santa Clarita Valley. Lots of cars parked on the streets in front of homes. And right now many of the residents were standing in the street with their cell phones in their hands capturing the fire to post on the internet later.
For him and his crew, they were in the way.
They pulled up between the first two homes on the fire front and jumped out of the rig. Once their personal protection was covering them, from helmet to boots, they strapped respiratory devices onto their backs. The captain hustled between the homes to visualize the flames.
The speed at which he ran back told them they needed to hurry.
“Movin’ fast, men. Let’s go.”
Matt held his fist out to the men. “Let’s rock and roll.”
Two fist bumps later and they were running line, connecting hoses, and rushing in.
Matt’s pulse jumped and he knew it wouldn’t come down until it was all over.
Damn, he loved his job.
Erin saw smoke billowing up across the valley. It was too far away to be concerned that it would reach her, but that didn’t stop her from worrying about Matt. She opened the app on her phone to see if his station had been dispatched. When she confirmed that he had, her nerves soared even higher.
When the smoke wasn’t extinguished right away, she turned on the television to the local news in hopes of some coverage. All she found was a teaser saying a team was on the way, and that there was a fire with the information Erin already had. Then it dawned on her that the media probably received a lot of their information from the same source she did.
As the fire grew, and more engines were sent in, Erin’s anxiety spiked.
Camera crews finally moved on scene with coverage from the closest street they could access. Flames licked up the hillside from behind. So far it appeared that the homes were being saved, but all she saw was dense smoke and fire engines littering the streets. Firefighters all looked the same with their hats on and hoses in their hands. Much as she tried to pick Matt out of the mix, she couldn’t. Once the loop of film started to repeat, she relocated from her perch on the edge of the couch and into Parker’s kitchen.
She needed to move.
Do something to distract herself.
For ten minutes she gathered flour, sugar, and a smattering of baking goods from the pantry and looked in the fridge. Not finding what she needed, she doubled her steps to her house, grabbed supplies, and ran back.
Before she started, she refreshed her feed on the app and flipped through the two news channels that were covering the fire.
Erin knew Parker wasn’t much of a cook, but she’d inherited all the right pans and gadgets from her mother, so the kitchen was stocked with everything Erin needed to work efficiently. With the air conditioner blowing out the heat, she slowly turned the rural home kitchen into a bakery.
By the time Austin came home from school there were dozens of cookies, a full sheet of brownies, a coffee cake, and a peach cobbler cooling on a rack.
Austin dropped his backpack with his mouth gaping open. “What the hell?”
Erin pointed to the television. “There’s a fire,” she said as if that was an explanation of her excessive baking.
He glanced at the TV, and then back at the counter filled with all the wrong, yet completely right, things.
“Yeah, I saw. But what does that have to do with this?”
The timer buzzed with another batch of cookies. These ones were strawberry-filled sugar cookies. “Matt.”
“Matt asked for a sugar high?”
One sheet out of the oven, another one in. “Matt is on the fire.”
Austin popped a cookie into his mouth, moaned. “Yeah. So?”
Erin shook her head. “Matt is working the fire. I’m ahh . . .” She looked around the kitchen and brushed a patch of hair that had fallen from the loose knot she’d secured before she started baking. “I’m baking.”
Austin moved in for a brownie. “You do realize you’re not making any sense.” He took a bite, then looked down at the half-eaten bit. “Holy wow . . . that’s amazing.”
“Don’t eat them all. They’re for Matt.”
At that moment she took a good look at the sheer number of diabetes-inducing goodies she’d managed to bake in one afternoon.
Austin piled three more brownies in his hands. “I don’t think he’ll be able to eat all this.”
“The station. I’ll take it to the station.” Yes, that’s what she was doing. Baking for the team.
She glanced at the clock.
“Are you going to do this every time there’s a fire that Matt is on?”
Her eyes swiveled to the stove. Darn it . . . she didn’t set the timer.
“I don’t know. Yes . . . maybe.”
She looked inside and estimated the time left to bake, then moved to the sink to work on the dishes as she went.
The lady reporting wore a yellow coat that looked to be a fashion statement more than anything that would protect her. She described the scene with words like ferocious and destructive and then followed them up with heroic and fearless. In the end she mentioned a percentage of containment and hope that the fire would be extinguished with full containment by the morning.
“I bet it’s already out,” Austin said with his mouth full of chocolate.
“She said by morning.”
“Step outside and tell me if you see smoke.”
Instead of arguing, she opened the slider and walked to the edge to get a view.
There was smoke, but it wasn’t like it had been a few hours before.
Austin came up behind her. “See.”
“You think it’s out?”
“I think it’s almost out. They don’t consider it contained until they’ve literally put a line in the dirt surrounding the fire damage.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. You’ll catch up on all this by the end of the summer.” He turned to walk away. “If you want to get all that stuff to Matt’s station so it’s there when they get back, you might wanna pack it up soon.”
&nbs
p; CHAPTER TEN
There were several cars parked in front of the fire station. She recognized Matt’s truck among them. A peek through the massive doors didn’t show evidence that the engines were back. Part of Erin wanted Matt to be there, so she could see that he was okay, and an equal part wanted him to be gone so she could sneak in, drop off the tiny bakery she’d created, and leave before he realized she’d done the baking. She parked her car on the street and pulled the first of her provisions from the back seat.
It wasn’t until she was walking up to the front door of the station that she considered that there might not be anyone inside to let her in.
She knocked several times and stood there feeling a little silly. Finally she tried the door to see if it was unlocked.
Bingo.
She cracked the door open. “Hello?” she called out.
Noise from the back of the station caught her attention, so she crept inside. “Hello?”
With her offering in her hand, she continued past the office portion of the station and toward what she assumed was the garage. Instead of an empty space crawling with firefighters, she found a large living space alive with two women buzzing around the kitchen cooking. Much like at home, the television was on with news of the fire coverage on the screen.
“Hello,” she said a third time.
Both of them turned around and smiled.
“Let me help you with that.” The woman who approached her was African American, somewhere in her midforties, not that Erin could really tell, with the kindest smile and most expressive eyes Erin had ever seen.
“I hope it’s okay I just let myself in.” Erin handed her the bag in her hand.
“Of course. Come in.” The second woman was Caucasian, a good ten years younger than the other, with short brown hair and an abundance of eyeliner. Why the eyeliner stood out, Erin wasn’t quite sure.
“I have more in the car,” Erin told them.
“Do you need help?”
“I can get it.”
Erin stacked the trays three high and brought all the rest in at the same time.
Back inside, the women helped her unpack the food.
“I’m Tamara, Anton’s wife,” the older woman said. “And this is Kim, Tom’s wife.”
Suddenly Erin felt out of place. “I’m Erin . . . uhm, a friend of Matt’s.”
The introduction raised their eyebrows and broadened their smiles. “I don’t think we’ve heard about you.”
The butterflies in Erin’s stomach started to flap their wings. And not the fun, tingly kind one felt right before a first kiss, but the kind that threatened to bring up breakfast if she wasn’t careful. “You wouldn’t. I mean, we’re just friends and . . .” Her face grew hot. “We haven’t known each other long.”
“Don’t fret, hon. We’re not prying. Just wondering,” Tamara said. “Did you want something to drink? Water, soda? They don’t keep anything stronger here.”
“No, no. I probably shouldn’t stay. I was just . . .” A nervous wreck with worry.
Kim pulled a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator and handed it to Erin. “You don’t have to explain it to us. We understand being a mess when the guys are out there. That’s why we’re here,” she indicated.
That replaced her frown with a smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t know either one of your husbands. This must be awful for you. I’m just a friend and . . .”
Tamara grinned. “Right. I like to say it gets easier.”
Kim removed the wrap from a batch of cookies. “Do you own a bakery?”
Erin shook her head. “I bake when I’m nervous.”
“Oh, boy. This was just a small fire. I wonder what it will look like with a weeklong wildfire.”
She swallowed at the thought. “Do you guys cook here all the time?”
“Oh, no. This is the first real fire of the season. Kim and I like to do this for them. On bigger fires they never get back to the station and there is plenty of food at the camps. Smaller ones like this are really more about us not going crazy while they’re out.” Tamara nodded to Kim. “Christina was here a little bit ago, but we sent her home after we heard from the guys.”
“Who’s Christina?” Erin asked.
“Jessie’s wife.”
Kim must have read the blank stare on her face. “You’ll meet them all, don’t worry. Christina is very pregnant. We told her we’d call if anything changed.”
The thought of meeting anyone made her jumpy. “I should probably—”
“How did you meet Matt?” Tamara asked.
“My friend is dating his brother.”
“How long have you been dating?”
Erin blinked several times. “We’re just friends.”
Kim and Tamara exchanged glances. “Ah, huh . . . right.” Kim lifted a brownie. “These are fabulous.”
Not realizing she’d sat or that she’d downed half the bottle of water, Erin stood. “I really should be going.”
The words no sooner left her lips than the distinctive sound of a motorized door opening caught their attention.
“Looks like they’re back.”
Erin lost her smile. How the heck was she going to explain her presence to Matt?
He was hungry, filthy, and pumped full of adrenaline.
“Looks like we’re getting a hot meal after all,” Tom said into their headsets as they pulled the truck up to the garage.
In the parking lot Matt noticed a couple of extra cars. He liked that sometimes the wives, and even a husband or two, would be at the station when they returned from a fire with hot food and a fresh audience to talk about the day. On long calls, his mom had been known to join the families of the firefighters and help out. It was a win-win for all of them.
The fire had been fast and furious and quickly controlled because of the lack of wind and the fact that the brush hadn’t completely dried out. Crews were still out mopping it up, and he was on the list of volunteers to take the extra shift the next day. Overtime was a wonderful thing. That would mean missing out on the barbeque with Erin, but he didn’t think she’d mind. In fact, it might even make her think about him a little more and perhaps be quicker to say yes to a real date.
Tom backed the truck into the station, and they all climbed out of the rig.
The captain left them to the task of hooking up the exhaust pipe and readying the truck for the next call before they dragged their dirty butts inside the station.
“Feels like we wore off the winter rust,” Tom said.
Matt offered a fist bump. “Couldn’t agree more. Ready for the next one.” In Southern California, there was always a “next one.”
One step inside the station and his senses were met with the smell of garlic and spices that put his stomach into overdrive.
He noticed the captain holding Tamara in the middle of the kitchen and Kim sliding in close to Tom as they cleared the door.
“We told Christina to go home, Jessie. You need to call her before taking your shower.”
Jessie was already on his phone.
Matt turned to head to the shower when he saw her.
He blinked several times.
“Erin?”
She stood on the other side of the farm-style table behind a mound of food. Her hands nervously folded in front of her, and she shuffled her feet. “Hi.”
Matt wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He would reflect later, and realize he probably wasn’t. His feet moved until he stood in front of her and his hand reached out. One minute she was watching him nervously, and the next he was tilting her face in his hands and his lips were reaching for hers.
The second their lips touched, the adrenaline in his system peaked in a way a fire couldn’t achieve regardless of how dangerous it became.
She tasted like sunshine and spring rain all at the same time.
Erin gasped, or maybe it was him. But she didn’t pull away. And when his brain caught up with his actions, he held on just a little longer. “You’re here.”
Her face was beet red, her eyes wide with surprise, and her gaze focused on his lips. “I was, uhm . . .”
He knew he wasn’t going to stop smiling anytime soon. “Worried?”
She offered three tiny nods.
Matt moved his hands to her shoulders and saw the smudge of soot he left in his wake. He tried to smooth it off with his thumb and made it worse.
Much as he didn’t want to stop touching her, he let his hand fall. “I need to shower.”
She was still speechless.
“Don’t leave.” He was pretty sure he had to tell her that or she would.
“Uhm . . .”
“Please.”
Erin brought her fingertips to her lips. “Okay.”
He reached for a paper towel and handed it to Erin before walking away.
The captain and Tom followed.
He heard Tamara’s voice as he walked out of the room. “Just friends, huh?”
Erin was numb.
She looked at the paper towel in her hand and found it just as confusing as what had happened. Matt had kissed her.
And she’d let him.
In front of his coworkers.
Kim walked up to her and laughed. “You have a little . . .” She made a swiping motion at her cheek.
“There’s a bathroom over there,” Tamara said, pointing.
That sounded perfect.
Erin hustled behind the bathroom door, immediately noticed the soot on her face and the gleam in her eyes. She ran the water and washed away Matt’s touch. Then she stood over the sink staring at herself.
He’d kissed her.
And God help her, she’d kissed him back.
Wait, had she? She closed her eyes and recalled his kiss, the second before his lips touched hers and the fluttering inside her belly. She’d noticed the day’s grime on him when he walked through the back door, and the way his eyes found hers and held. He’d reached for her without thought. As if he’d done so a hundred times and kissing her was a natural thing instead of a first-time thing.
It was glorious.
He’d kissed her with such care and softness she’d gasped and leaned closer.
Home to Me Page 8
