by Beverly Long
Finally she turned to face him. “Ready to work,” she said. “Although I have to admit, this isn’t quite what I expected.”
“Part of a well-functioning firehouse is that everybody eats regularly, or as regularly as possible. We’ve got a teammate who generally covers the cooking. Unfortunately, he’s out on medical leave, which leaves the rest of us taking turns. I try not to let anybody else here know how much this terrifies me,” he said.
“Charlie must have some idea,” she said.
“For sure. But he won’t talk. And he likely thinks this is character development for me.”
“Character development and torture can look a lot alike sometimes,” she said.
“You are definitely a parent,” he said easily.
“It’ll give us a chance to talk about the Spring Spectacular,” she said. She unwrapped the hamburger and slid it into the deep skillet. “Where are your spices?” she asked.
He pointed to a cupboard. She opened it, eyed the possibilities and started selecting.
He stared at her. “How do you know which ones?”
She smiled. “You have a daughter. Don’t you have to cook for her?”
“We go out a lot. And my ex-wife’s mother generally takes pity on us when she knows that Raven is staying with me. She swings by with food.”
“What do you eat when your daughter isn’t with you?”
“Sandwiches. Cereal. I can make oatmeal.”
“Congratulations,” she said, offering up a quick smile.
“You think I should take that off my online profile?” he asked with a perfectly straight face.
Now she laughed. “No. Definitely not. I’m in marketing, remember. So trust me on this. Go with what you’ve got.”
“What I’ve got is a recipe for the chili on my phone,” he said, picking it up from the counter.
“I don’t need that,” she said.
“Really?”
His really sounded very similar to how a five-year-old Sophie had sounded when she’d been told she could have an extra dessert. Like life was really too good to be true. And right then and there, she decided that any conversation they might have about the Spring Spectacular could wait. She wanted him to have a chance to talk about his real work, work that he clearly excelled at. “Tell me about your days here,” she said.
He cut the ends off the onion and pulled the outer skin off. Then picked up the big knife. “Well, no two are the same. But the time passes fast because we’re generally pretty busy. I guess that’s one of the things I love.”
“I guess I wouldn’t have anticipated there would be that many fire emergencies,” she said.
“There aren’t. But we respond to every 911 call. Most of them are medical. At least 80 percent. As serious as heart attacks and strokes. As minor as somebody being a little banged up in a fender bender.”
“Where does falling in Myrtle Canyon fit?” she asked.
“Hosea was lucky. He could have had a closed head injury or a spinal fracture and things might have been a lot worse. And, by the way, don’t call it Myrtle Canyon. That’s the official name,” he said. “But everybody knows it as Headstone Canyon.”
And as he proceeded to tell her the story of why, she felt a little nauseated. What the hell had Hosea been thinking taking a brand-new employee there on her first day? “Maybe I should get a T-shirt?” she said. She walked over and picked up the cutting board of chopped onions. She tilted it and used her knife to slide them into her simmering ground beef. Gave the cutting board back to Bryce so that he could do the peppers. “You know, something like I Survived Headstone Canyon.”
“I’d say that Hosea Pratt definitely doesn’t embrace a slow start. Headstone Canyon on your first day. The Spring Spectacular on your second. Bet you just can’t wait for tomorrow.”
“I did remind myself on the way over here how grateful I am to have a job,” she admitted. She stirred her ground beef and onions. He chopped his pepper. She figured now was as good a time as any to attempt to clear the air. “Blade, I thought this—” she motioned between herself and him “—might be awkward after how we left things on Saturday.”
“You said that your daughter was doing okay?” he asked.
“She is. I think. But then again, I was pretty surprised on Saturday morning so maybe I’m not the best judge.” She tapped her spoon on the counter. “I’m sorry. I was rude to you, and I should have apologized right away.”
“You had your hands full. I overstepped. I should learn to keep my opinions to myself.”
She appreciated him saying that. “It’s probably not a good excuse that I was slightly hung over, dehydrated and very tired.”
“Are you kidding? That makes it all better,” he said with a perfectly straight face.
“Can we start fresh?” she asked. “I really want us to be friendly cochairs.”
That wasn’t quite what he’d been going for when he’d decided to return her scarf in person. But there was some water under the bridge now. “I’d like that,” he said. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Assuming you haven’t exaggerated your chili making abilities.”
She picked up the large can of tomatoes that was on the counter. “Show me where the can opener is, and you can judge for yourself.”
Twenty minutes later, the pot was simmering away. He’d offered her coffee and a muffin from a tray on the counter. She’d accepted both, and they’d taken chairs at the table.
“Hosea’s assistant gave me an email that she got from your chief’s office.” She pulled the memo out of her purse and gave it to him.
He looked at it quickly. “I saw this a couple weeks ago. I guess it’s good we’re not starting from scratch. I mean, a few things are in place. And I was excited to see that Gertie Biscuit handles the catering. At least the food will be good.”
“You know her?” she asked.
“Everybody knows her. She owns Gertie’s Café. Delicious food served to standing room only during the season.”
“Has she always been the caterer?”
“I don’t know. The one thing I do know is that ticket sales are slow. That’s not too encouraging.”
“I have a couple thoughts about creating interest in the event,” she said.
“I’m all ears,” he said. “But in full disclosure mode, you need to know that I’ve attended the Spring Spectacular, but I never paid much attention to how it all came together. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“We’ll figure it out together. I’ve had some involvement with these types of events at past jobs. The great thing is that there is typically a portion of the community that supports these kinds of events regularly. Probably come to the Spring Spectacular, and similar events in the community, every year. We want these regulars to definitely come this year, but if our goal is to make this a very successful fundraising event, I think we really want to find a way to grow that group. We want to add new people, allowing them, if you will, to become part of the cool regular gang.”
He smiled. “This is why I floundered in my marketing class.”
She waved a hand. “This will be your master’s thesis. In fact, we can probably get you an honorary doctorate.”
“Now you’re talking,” he said.
“Let me just check my phone for a second.” She perused the emails that had come in during the last half hour and saw that Tom had responded. With a yes. “My idea is to use my newcomer status as a reason for people to share experiences with me about the Spring Spectacular via social media. I’ll ask people to educate me on the Spring Spectacular by sharing pictures and anecdotes about the event. In exchange, you and I will share with them pictures and anecdotes about this fire station, the people who work here, the work that is getting done in the community. We’ll be careful to protect people’s privacy, but I think past donors and potential future
donors might positively respond to an insider look.”
He was quiet for a minute. It made her nervous.
“Pratt Sports Spot already has a huge list of email addresses of both customers and employees that we can use to push the information out. I cleared it with the COO that we could offer a promotion. Every customer who shares the link to the Spring Spectacular social media with five other people can get 30 percent off their next purchase.”
She stopped. It was an information download. She’d had time to think about this. She needed to give him more than a minute.
Finally, he leaned forward. “I like it. I’ve lived here my whole life, and it’s different from anything else I’ve seen done in the community.”
She felt the anxiety in her body ease up. She really wanted her first big project at Pratt Sports Spot to be a big success. “I thought the tag line might be Remember This. As in I need the community to share with me what they remember about the Spring Spectacular, and we all need to remember what the Knoware Fire Department does because we might be the next person who needs their help.”
“Remember This.” He repeated the phrase. “It’s good. I have to admit, I hadn’t even thought of a slogan, or what did you call it, a tag line.”
“That’s what cochairs are for,” she said. “So that neither one of us has to think of everything.” She was more relieved than he could possibly know. By the end of business today, she’d have one of her graphic artists setting up the framework for their social media campaign. There was really no time to waste. “The reason I asked whether Gertie Biscuit had catered before is that I thought it might also be good to get the various other people who are involved in putting this event together involved in the Remember This campaign.”
“We can ask her.” He settled back in his chair. “Suddenly I’m feeling a lot better about an event that, quite frankly, I’ve been dreading.”
That made two of them. She flipped the latch on her purse and pulled out her phone. “I should take some photos of the chili making. To share.”
“That’s not very exciting work.”
“It’s real, though. Firefighters have to eat. And this is how they manage that.”
“Maybe there will be a stuck cat in a tree later today,” he said. “Really tug on their emotions.”
“Have you really rescued cats?”
“Cats. Dogs. Small aircraft.”
“What?”
“Remote controlled plane. Very upset five-year-old boy. Grateful grandmother. I should probably remind her about the Spring Spectacular.”
She nodded. “Absolutely. And ask her to remind all her friends.”
“My Uncle Frank used to sell cars. He never came to a family dinner that he didn’t bring along some cards for us to pass out to our friends. I suddenly feel a real kinship for the man.”
“It’s for a good cause,” she said.
“And only for a limited time. Perhaps my friends will allow me to be obnoxious for a brief period.”
“I only have one friend here. Jane. She’s already done so much for me that I think she’s officially off the hook.”
“Is she the reason you came to Knoware?” he asked.
“Not the reason.” That was the need to get away from Jacob, but there was no sense bringing all that baggage up. “But the impetus. We’ve been friends for many years. She told me about the job at Pratt Sports Spot. Helped me find a house.”
“A good friend,” he said. “They’re rare. I’ve lived here my whole life and while I’ve got a ton of acquaintances, I’ve really only got two best friends.”
“Jamie, the pilot,” she said.
“And Marcus, the cop. You would have seen him the day we scooped you and Mr. Pratt off the ledge.”
“I remember him.”
“Of course,” he said, somewhat oddly she thought. He was quiet for a minute. “You know, I’ve got a good feeling about us working together. We both have daughters. I like to eat chili. You like to make it,” he added with a smile.
Jacob had also started out wanting to be her friend, her very good friend. “Definitely friendly cochairs,” she said breezily. “Do Marcus and Jamie also have kids?” she asked, changing the topic.
Blade shook his head. “No kids. Neither have been married.”
“Jane mentioned that you’re divorced.”
“Yep. Four years ago. My ex lives in Knoware. We share custody of Raven.”
“That can’t always be easy.”
“Nope. But worth it,” he said.
“I’m betting you have excellent negotiation skills,” she said. “That’s good. They may come in handy when we move forward with the silent auction.”
“Silent auction?” he repeated, not sounding all that excited.
She waved a hand. “It’ll be great. You’ll see.”
Chapter 7
“How was school?” Daisy asked that night.
Sophie shrugged.
Daisy counted to ten. “Most interesting class?”
“Seventh period.”
This was progress. “Why?”
“Because it meant the day was almost over.”
Dead end ahead. Anybody with a brain could see the flashing sign. Even so, maybe she should try again. But damn it, she was tired. Chasing after Sophie had taken a toll, and while the few hours she’d spent with Blade Savick had been surprisingly pleasant, it had left her feeling off balance. He was smart and charming and funny.
But then again, Jacob had also been those things. And such a liar.
It was going to be very hard to trust her own judgment ever again. Right now, the best thing she could do was be cautious. That was why it had been so important for Blade to understand that their relationship was professional.
She appreciated that Blade had immediately asked about Sophie, as if understanding that her health and well-being were more important than everything else. And he had apologized, as he’d said, for overstepping.
It had been refreshing, yet somewhat unsettling. Could he be just as uncomplicated as he seemed? Just a real nice guy?
She hoped so. It would make this assignment go so much more smoothly. But right now, her focus needed to be on getting the night to go smoothly. “Dinner in thirty minutes. Chicken quesadillas with rice.”
She expected Sophie to bolt for her room, but she remained in the kitchen. She sat at the table, her phone next to her, but she wasn’t looking at it. Daisy pulled a package of chicken breasts from the refrigerator. She cut the meat into strips. Added some oil and spices and set it aside so that it could marinate for a few minutes while she got the rest of dinner ready.
“There was a notice on the office window that auditions for the spring play are on Thursday,” Sophie said. “Our Town by Thornton Wilder.”
Daisy could feel her heart speed up. But she kept the excitement out of her voice. “That’s a classic. Think you’ll try for it?”
“Maybe.”
Daisy looked up from the avocados that she was peeling. She was afraid to encourage too much because Sophie might not go forward just to spite her. But she needed her daughter to know the truth. “I hope you do, Sophie. You’re very talented.”
There was no response. But still, Sophie stayed at the table.
She sat for the full thirty-three minutes it took for Daisy to get dinner ready. Quietly. She didn’t say another word until they were both sitting at the table, food on their plates. “How’s your boss doing?” she asked.
“Okay. Still in the hospital but working. He gave me a new assignment. Pratt Sports Spot is sponsoring the Spring Spectacular. It’s a fundraiser for the local fire department.”
Sophie looked up from her plate. “Wasn’t that guy...the one with you...a fireman?”
“Yes. His name is Blade Savick.”
“Savick,” Sophie repeated. “
I met a girl today and her last name is Savick.”
“Raven?” Daisy asked, remembering what Blade had said.
“Yeah. I think so. She was picking up information about the play at the same time that I was.”
“That’s his daughter. And oddly enough, that’s who my boss arranged for me to shadow. I actually started this afternoon.”
“Was it cool? Did you see blood?”
“Yes, it was dark red and thick,” she said, her voice quavering.
“Ugh,” Sophie said, clearly sorry she’d asked.
“Oh, wait,” Daisy said brightly. “That was chili. He was on kitchen duty.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Lame. You’re lame and that’s lame.”
Not really, thought Daisy. It had been fun. And the chili had been good. He’d offered her some to take home, but she’d declined. “You know I don’t do well at the sight of blood,” she said. “So any day I can avoid that is a good day.”
Sophie chewed and swallowed. “Did he say anything about me?”
“He asked how you were doing.”
“What did you tell him?” Sophie asked.
“I said that you were doing fine. Because you are. It’s hard to be the new kid, Sophie. But you went to school today and as tough as it might have been, you did it. And tomorrow will be better. I just know it. Ultimately, you’re going to do great.”
Sophie pushed her mostly eaten plate of food to the side. “I hope you’re right, Mom. I really do.”
* * *
Daisy woke up late on Tuesday morning, which meant that she had to hurry through her shower, and her hair was barely dry before she and Sophie walked out the door. She dropped Sophie off at school. She wanted to encourage her to try out for the play, but she kept her thoughts to herself, settling on just a wish for a good day.
Then she drove to her office where she answered emails for twenty minutes and spent a little time with each of her staff members, making sure she knew what they were working on. Then she drove to the firehouse.
It was a chilly damp February day, but the big doors were open and she saw Blade rolling out a flat hose. She parked and waved. When she walked up, he smiled at her.
