Close To The Fire

by Suzanne Ferrell

  She shrugged. “Unlike the big city, most of the people here care about not only their next-door neighbors, but those in the community as a whole.”

  “Even the Amish?”

  “Even the Amish. I know that in some other areas, even here in our state, harassing the Amish about their lifestyle choice borders on bigoted. But we’ve always been accepting and friendly with those in our community.” She laughed slightly. “Besides, some of the best produce comes from these farms.”

  “That is does,” Lorna said as they stopped beside her. “Get my honey from Jacob’s farm here. Hope this fire doesn’t hurt his bee colony. Make sure Deke and the others know I have the hydration station up and ready.” She squeezed Bobby’s shoulder and headed back to her van.

  Libby took a moment to introduce Sean to Bobby.

  “Can you give me any official report, Deputy Roberts?” Sean asked, going into professional-reporter mode.

  Bobby gave him a slight shake of her head. “That would be something for Chief Reynolds or Sheriff Justice, Mr. Callahan. Right now, they’re both busy out there working the fire.”

  Sean nodded. “I’ll talk with them later. Do you know if there’s any chance this will spread?”

  “That’s one of the things we’re trying to prevent, besides getting the monster under control,” Bobby said, half-turning to look at the firefighters behind her. “Jacob Zimmer, the farm’s owner, plowed up firebreaks after the hay was cleared from the field to help prevent just such a fire jump from occurring.”

  While Sean talked with Bobby, taking notes and asking questions, Libby took a step away to get a better look at the crew working the fire. They’d divided up into four groups. The Amish farmers were grouped together off to one side, all in white shirts, suspenders and black pants. They seemed to be using their old-fashioned cart to wet the area not in the fire. One crew of the volunteers was shooting water high over the center of the flames, a tall figure that had to be Gage was at the head of their hose. Two other crews flanked them, sweeping their water lower from the edges in.

  She strained to make out more of the firemen. Then she saw him.

  Deacon.

  And damn her for feeling a lightness of relief, seeing him unharmed.

  Using a large rake he hauled debris away from the edges of the fire that had been put out, stepping back to let the left team use their hose to soak it down more, preventing any smoldering flare-ups. Then Deke stepped back in to rake away more from the edges of the fire, which seemed to be contained—at least, to Libby’s untrained eye.

  Suddenly, several figures moved away from the area back towards the safety line.

  Doc Clint had two of the farmers with him, both of whom were coughing—hard. Libby and Bobby hurried up to meet him.

  “Libby, can you get Jacob and Eli over to Emma for me? Tell her just some oxygen and to check their vitals. I’m going to go back and check out some others. Okay?”

  “Oxygen and vitals, maybe more to come. Got it.”

  Taking both men by the elbows, she helped them over to the makeshift triage area where Emma already had folding chairs and oxygen tanks out with masks at the ready. Libby repeated the instructions that Clint had sent to his wife, then followed her movements by getting a mask over Jacob’s head. Eli, who was older than Jacob by at least two decades, was having the most trouble getting his coughing under control, so Emma focused on him.

  “Any burns?” Libby asked Jacob, who started to remove the mask to talk. She stopped him. “No, just nod or shake your head. The oxygen is important.”

  He shook his head no, which she took to mean he didn’t have any burns.

  “Is your family all safe up at the house?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Good. I’m going to go get you some water from Lorna’s van. Anything else I can get you?”

  He shook his head.

  She retrieved two bottles of water from Lorna, opening them and handing one to each man. She took a moment to locate Deke in the fire crew again, where he was now directing the teams to move closer together. The fire was definitely shrinking. This need to see that he was still uninjured and working hard disturbed her, but before she could focus on it and analyze it to death, Doc Clint was headed back with more men. Focusing all her attention on helping him and Emma with the firefighters, hoping no one was too seriously injured. She prayed that Deke would be sensible and not take any unnecessary risks—this time.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sweat trickled down Deke’s face and he swiped at it with his free hand to keep more from dripping into his eyes. He set down the fire rake, leaning the handle against his thigh, removed his helmet for a minute to wipe more sweat from his forehead and neck, shook his head to fling more moisture from his hair, then slammed the helmet back in place. The intense heat and exertion from the battle with the fire had the clothes beneath his fire-retardant turnout gear plastered to his body.

  Damn, he needed a shower.

  “Looks like we’re getting a handle on it.” John Wilson, Libby’s uncle stepped up beside him, the face mask of his self-contained breathing apparatus hanging to one side of his helmet. Taking out a kerchief, the older man wiped the soot and sweat from his own face. The pair of them stood downwind from the smoke, watching the hose teams focus on the small area of fire still ablaze.

  “The major portion for sure and it’s not spreading, mostly thanks to Jacob’s preparedness in clearing the field of major debris and the firebreaks he plowed.” Deke pointed to the edges of the fire. “Once we get it out, we’ll need to work from the cooler edges into the center to be sure there are no hot spots to flare and reignite. I’ll keep a team of the volunteers here for a while doing that. You and the on-duty crew can head back to the station. You’ll need your rest, in case any other emergency comes in.”

  “Want us to fill up the hand-pump cart before we go?” John cleared his throat with a hard cough.

  “Sounds like you might need to have Clint and Emma take a look at you first. Have Aaron fill the cart while you do that.”

  “Will do, Chief,” John said, signaling the young farmer-turned-firefighter to join him as he moved away from the fire.

  A few more minutes of water spraying the area and the last of the flames were out.

  Deke inhaled and exhaled slowly. His body relaxing slowly with the action.

  Thank God. It could’ve been so much worse.

  Gage came over to stand next to Deke. “Why don’t we get a head count of our men, while Cleetus and Wes finish dousing the embers?”

  “Got any idea how many turned up?” Deke turned to scan the triage area.

  A group of the Amish farmers who’d been fighting the fire when they got there were gathered in one area, several of them seated with oxygen masks on their faces. Doc Clint and Emma hovered around them. The farmers hadn’t had breathing apparatuses so smoke inhalation was a problem for them. His own men seemed to be more in need of hydration and stood off to the side drinking bottles of electrolyte-filled sports drinks or water. No one appeared to have been badly injured.

  “I counted your crew of five, fifteen volunteers, including you and five of the Sheriff’s department, including me and Bobby.”

  “Twenty-five. Not a bad turnout.”

  “Not including the Amish that were already here.”

  A movement at the triage area caught his attention. A flash of blonde hair.

  Libby?

  What the hell was she doing here?

  “Helping Doc Clint and Emma, looks like,” Gage said beside him, making him realize he’d said the words out loud.

  “Shit. After Bill’s death, she shouldn’t be anywhere near a fire.”

  “Technically, she’s not near the fire, but behind the boundary line you set for civilians.”

  He shot Gage a scathing look. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes. But she wasn’t in danger back there. She’s helping the medical team with the injured, which is more than I can say for s
ome of our other town council members,” Gage said, nodding to where the mayor, DA and others of the council stood watching, but making no move to help. “Besides, the fire is out now. So what’s your beef with her being here?”

  Guilt. Over her brother’s death. Regret. That the fire might bring her bad memories. Fear. That he’d lose her to the monster, too.

  He didn’t voice those thoughts to Gage. The pain they caused was too personal for him to give them more power by saying them aloud. Instead, he picked up his fire rake, slapped his mask back over his face and returned to the fire.

  Time to focus on what was important for this moment. All his feelings about Libby would have to go back in the vault of his brain where he’d been keeping them for the past decade.

  Over the radio and headset attached inside his mask, he talked to his men and volunteers still working. “Gage, Cleetus and Daniel, keep the water spraying for another thirty minutes. Aaron, Martin and Wes, let’s focus on checking any large piles of charred debris. Look for embers still glowing and get them snuffed out. Let’s keep this baby from flaring back up on us.”

  * * * * *

  “Do you have any idea what might have caused the fire, Mr. Zimmer?”

  Libby heard Sean ask the young farmer seated at the triage table. Doc Clint was busy bandaging up his left forearm with a while cream beneath it. Thankfully, Jacob had been the only one with burns from the fire. She was no expert, but from what Clint and Emma had said, they were mostly first-degree burns and should heal easily.

  It could’ve been so much worse.

  She shoved that thought out of her mind, at the same time glancing up to see Deke talking with Gage near one of the fire trucks. Taller than most of the other men, their forms were always easy to find.

  Neither one had taken a break in…she checked her watch…the nearly two hours they’d been fighting the fire. Even now, Deke was headed back in, his arms waving as he gave directions to the other men still working the water hoses.

  “No. The hay had been dried thoroughly and moved into the barns two days ago,” Jacob replied with the rhythmic cadence common among the Amish community. He shook his head, unshed tears in his eyes. “I followed Chief Reynolds’ instructions for fire safety and still we had this.”

  “Sometimes God gives us problems even when we plan to prevent them, Jacob,” Thomas Elder said, laying a hand on the younger man’s shoulder from behind. “His blessing is that now you don’t have to clear the hay stubble from the field.”

  Jacob gave him a weary smile. “A blessing in the chaos, Thomas?”

  “Ja. And your family is safe.”

  “Ja. That is truly a blessing.”

  Jacob nodded more solemnly, his smile fading as he apparently thought of what could have happened to his young family. Libby’s heart went out to him.

  “Thank you for talking with me, Mr. Zimmer,” Sean said, closing the cover to his computer tablet and shaking both the men’s hands. He headed her way.

  “Did you get all the information you needed for the newspaper?” she asked when he stopped beside her.

  He nodded. “I think so. A couple of the firemen gave me the lowdown on the usual causes of fire. I had no idea that spontaneous combustion was a real thing, especially in rural areas.”

  “I didn’t either.” She handed him a bottle of water.

  Taking it, he cracked the lid and took a long drink. “It can happen when the freshly cut hay is baled and stored in a barn. When the core temp gets too high, poof. Fire.”

  “So that’s why the hay is left out to dry for days, or even weeks. I’d always wondered.” She soaked down a cloth with water from the ice chest Lorna had provided and handed it to Andy, another of the volunteer firefighters, who sat holding an oxygen mask to his face. “This will help cool you down,” she told him.

  With a smile of appreciation beneath the mask, Andy slapped the cloth on the back of his neck.

  “How much longer do you think they’ll be here?” Sean asked, staring out at the fire area.

  “I imagine they’ll want to stay a while to be sure there are no flare-ups. Maybe an hour or so,” she said, gathering some empty water bottles into a trash bag for recycling. “Why?”

  “I need to get this back to the paper, so we can put it out for tomorrow’s edition. But I don’t want to drag you away.”

  The town had gone without a paper since the previous owner had literally lost his mind. Having Sean put out a bi-weekly paper had brought some normalcy to the town that it had been missing for months.

  Libby looked around at the men still needing attention. “Why don’t you head back to town? I can get a ride with someone here. That is, if you think you can find your way back.”

  He gave her a smile and tapped the water bottle to his head. “Tactile learner. Once I’ve driven somewhere once, I have no problem getting back or there again. If you’re sure?”

  “Yes. I’m sure.” She laughed and waved him on his way, returning to her task of cleaning up the bottles and checking on the firefighters still in the triage area. As she worked she noticed the spectators’ cars starting to trickle out of the area, including most of the town council members. The volunteers were hanging around, but finally the on-duty crew loaded up the quint and tanker trucks after filling the hand pump cart with water, and headed back to town.

  “Looks like everything’s under control here,” Mayor Rawlins said, strolling over to the triage table. He’d been over several times to talk with the firefighters and the farmers. Tobias could be pompous at times, but the town knew he loved the citizens, so most tolerated his self-interested moments. Tonight wasn’t one of them. He’d sincerely come to check on the injured or those requiring some hydration or oxygen.

  “Yep. Just the cleaning up left to do, Tobias,” Lorna said, handing him two bags of trash. “You want to toss those into one of the dumpsters on your way into town? Might as well be of some help, Mayor.”

  “Be my pleasure, Lorna.” He smiled and took the bags good-naturedly. Turning, he looked at Libby. “Want me to take those, too?”

  “Nope,” Lorna answered first. “We’re gonna recycle those in the café’s recycling bin. Every little bit helps.”

  Tobias looked a little embarrassed. Libby gave him a half shrug in sympathy. As he walked back to his car, she closed up the second bag of empty bottles. Carrying them over to Lorna’s van, she set them in back next to the other supplies that Pete, the cook, had loaded into the van.

  She headed back to the triage table and started putting the unopened bottles back into the cooler.

  “Can I get one of those?”

  Her heart skipped a beat at the raspy, deep voice from behind her.

  Deke.

  Inhaling slowly to calm her sudden nervousness, she grabbed a bottle and turned to him with a smile. “Of course.”

  “Thanks,” he said, taking the bottle. He popped the top.

  His eyes closed as he drank, she took the opportunity to study him. He’d pulled his helmet, hood and mask off, his short, sandy-colored hair curling in waves from the heat and sweat. Soot streaked his face in spots and down his neck. Watching him swallow as he drank, his muscles working hard, she swallowed too, and licked her suddenly parched lips.

  “Man, that was good.” The bottle completely drained, he handed it back to her.

  “Want another?” she asked, her voice sounding a little shaky in her own ears.

  Great. Now she’d reverted back to an awkward teenager in his presence.

  He shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

  “Everything under control?” she asked, to fill the awkward pause between them.

  Idiot. Of course they were under control. He wouldn’t be here getting a drink if they weren’t. His sense of responsibility had always been one of his driving forces. And she’d both loved and hated that about him.

  “The major fire is out.” He scanned the charred field, his eyes taking in every man still out there, working. “We’ve sti
ll got some work to do. Checking for hot spots under the ashes. Don’t want any flare ups to set the whole mess off again.”

  “Does that happen often?” she asked, drawing his dark eyes back to her.

  “Not as much with a nearly empty field like Jacob had here. Structural fires are more at risk, with all the debris still acting as fuel for any smoldering embers. With the dry summer we’ve had, I’d like to be extra sure we don’t have anything to worry about this time.”

  Pete interrupted them as he stepped over to the cooler. “Y’all done with this, Miss Libby?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes, Pete.” Smiling, she slipped the last bottle of water back in the cooler and closed the lid. “Thanks. I was going to haul it over to the van.”

  “No problem, miss,” he said lifting the cooler and giving her a wink. “It’s my pleasure and why Miss Lorna keeps me hanging around.”

  After he stashed the cooler in the café’s van, he came back, folded the metal table and loaded it in, too. Then he climbed in beside Lorna, the pair waving as they pulled out to follow the caravan of vehicles toward town.

  “He’s a nice man,” Libby said, watching him walk away.

  “What’s his story?” Deke asked, bringing her attention back to him.

  Not knowing what to do with her hands, she shoved them down in her jeans pocket and shrugged. “Not really sure. He wandered into town not long after Emma left to go to nursing school. Lorna gave him a chance as the line cook and he’s just sort of stayed on.”

  “No family in the area?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

  It was his turn to shrug. “Nothing really. Just curious, I guess. For someone who’s been in Westen for nearly two years, I’ve never really talked with him.”

  “Deke,” Doc Clint said, stepping over with Emma’s hand in his. “We’re about done here.”

  “Any serious injuries?” Deke asked, his brows drawn down in worry.

  “Nothing too serious. A few of the farmers have some smoke inhalation, but none serious enough to take to the clinic for the night. I’ll come out and check on them tomorrow.”