Spark (The Hometown Heroes Series)

by Nicole Blanchard

  Debris covers the roads in front of the house along with more fallen limbs. I don’t even see how we’d get help even if we needed it. There won’t be any trucks on the roads until they can get them cleared and that’ll take a couple men and a half dozen chainsaws. A water main has busted across the street, flooding a neighbor’s yard. Several limbs crush another’s car and my eyes fly to my own busted up sedan. Aside from debris blown on top, it’s relatively, shockingly, unscathed—not that it’ll do us any good now.

  All we can do for the time being is sit still and stay out of the way. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I do know there will be crews out at some point to help clear the roads, fix the downed power lines, and check on residents to make sure no one is injured. God, I hope no one has been injured.

  Once I feed Grandma Rosie and the baby, I’ll take a more thorough look outside, make sure there’s no one close by who needs help. Then…I don’t know. One step at a time, I suppose. That’s all any of us can do.

  While I’m making bowls of cereal, I attempt to check online for any news. The loading symbol at the top of my phone keeps going round and round and the pages stay blank. I don’t know if all the towers are down or if it’s taking a long time because of general chaos or what. It’s strange not being connected to anything at all. It makes me feel very alone.

  By the time we sit down at the small dinette table, it’s nearly ten or so in the morning and already sweltering. It was a warm October before the storm, but it has to be in the high eighties, if not higher. Our house stays cool, but it won’t for long if the temperature keeps rising. Once I find a way out of here and make sure no one is injured, my first priority will be to find a generator. Perhaps I can plug a window unit into it and keep our small living room cool, at least. The nights won’t be so bad, but a hot Florida afternoon can be killer.

  Later, I leave Grandma Rosie watching her shows and baby Gracie napping deeply. With the baby monitor receiver clipped to my belt, I strap on a pair of old sneakers and head outside for the first time since the storm. By the time I make it through the front yard to the gate, my legs are scraped to all hell and I realize all the fallen trees have disturbed dozens and dozens of yellow jacket nests. I’m stung twice and am left cursing and sweating, already lathered up in a mood.

  Hissing through my teeth, I work my way across the road to my closest neighbor. I’m almost to their steps when I hear their shouts from the other side of the closed door.

  “Hello? Can you hear us? We’re trapped inside!”

  I speed up picking through the debris on their porch—including a large downed limb that’s wedged in their doorway, completely blocking the majority of their front windows and their front door. Quickening my pace, I shout back, “Mary? Tom? It’s Avery. I’m coming!”

  “Avery, thank God,” comes Mary’s relieved voice. “We’ve been hollering all morning. There’s another limb that damn near crashed through the back door. We’d jump out the windows if I didn’t fret about Tom breaking a hip.”

  “Fool woman,” I hear Tom mutter, which makes me smile despite everything.

  “You guys say there. I’m going to find a way to get inside.”

  The limb is the size of a small tree. There’s no way I’ll be able to move the damn thing, but I try nonetheless, to no avail. The windows on either side of the house are over my head, so there’ll be no climbing up unless I can find something to stand on. They weren’t kidding about the back being caved in. Half a rotten tree collapsed on it.

  I come back around to the front, hoping I can wiggle my way in between the tree and the front door to get it open. Above the sound of distant buzzing chainsaws and humming yellow Tomets, I begin to hear the sound of more voices, some raised over the din. More people must be up and moving around trying to clear out paths, discern the extent of damage.

  The crunch of boots on leaves snapping twigs has me looking up as I near Tom and Mary’s front steps. Maybe it’s someone who can help.

  I open my mouth to call out to them when the words die on my tongue.

  The man hasn’t noticed me yet. He carries a chainsaw with one hand like it doesn’t weigh a thing. He scans the area, sharp and observant. I know that gaze. I’ve stared into it, dreamed of it. His eyes haunt me every day.

  “Walker,” I say, louder than I intend, because it’s the only thing I know about him other than what it feels like to have him inside me.

  He stops. Turns to me.

  Those blue-gray eyes meet mine.

  Chapter 3

  Walker

  Past

  “I don’t normally do this,” is all I remember her saying before she tugs me to my Airbnb.

  “Neither do I.”

  She pushes open the door and stumbles inside. “No, I mean it. That’s not just a line. I don’t go home with strange guys.”

  When I’m over the threshold, she pushes it shut behind me and presses me against its surface. My brain short-circuits like it had the moment I saw her in the bar. Sounds cliché, but they’re clichés for a reason.

  She’d been waiting tables at the restaurant I’d gone to for dinner. Not my waitress, but one a couple sections over. I’d lingered over a mediocre steak and over-dry baked potato that I’d washed down with cheap beer to watch her like some kind of creep. I’d stayed through dinner rush, then wandered over to the bar where she’d taken over serving drinks. She plied me with alcohol until I, with some stroke of luck or fate or both, convinced her to go to the bar next door when we couldn’t stay at the restaurant any longer. Some hours later, with enough alcohol to make bad decisions sound like good ones, I’d convinced her to come back to my place where we could be alone.

  “I’m not complaining,” I say and let my hands wander wherever she’ll allow them. “I wouldn’t judge you even if you did.”

  She pauses her own explanation to peer up at me with fathomless brown eyes. “That’s so sweet,” she says, causing me to laugh. “What did you say your name was again?”

  “Walker,” I answer and brush back her loose brown curls from her face. God, I want to kiss her.

  “I’m Avery.”

  “I remember.”

  She presses her eyes shut, sighs a little. “We should probably talk some more. Get to know each other better. I think I’m a little drunk.”

  I close my eyes and lean my head against the door, praying for some self-control. “Whatever you want. I just don’t want to be alone.”

  Her fingers pause their exploration of my chest over the thin material of my T-shirt. I glance back down at her, watching her study me. Fuck, maybe she was right. I’d had way too much to drink.

  “I don’t want to be alone either,” she confesses.

  Wanting nothing more than to taste those confessions on her lips, I instead put my hands on her arms and put some much-needed distance between us. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll make us some coffee. I think there’s some in the kitchen.”

  At this, she chuckles and carefully sits on the small leather sofa in the living room. “You don’t know if you have coffee in your own house?”

  “It’s not mine,” I answer as I hunt through the cabinets searching for K-cups. “It’s an Airbnb. I was only in town for a few months. Didn’t seem like it would make much sense to rent a place for longer when I’d be leaving soon.”

  “Oh, so you aren’t from Battleboro?” Was I imagining it or was there disappointment in her voice? I like the thought of her wanting to have me around. Not many people do these days.

  “I am originally. Just back while I’m in between jobs.” I find the K-cups, an off-brand, but they’ll do, and load one up in the machine. While it gurgles to life, I lean against the countertop and grip its edge to keep my hands from reaching for her. “I’m a Wildland Firefighter.”

  She nods, then laughs. “I have no idea what that means.”

  “You know those big wildfires you hear of on the news out west?”

  Avery’s eyes widen. “You fight with tho
se?”

  “Nine months out of the year. I’m in between contracts right now, but I’m going back for another contract in a few days.”

  “So, what brings you back to Florida?” she asks. “Why not stay out west all year round?”

  Good question. I consider my words while I make one cup and start another. “You want cream or sugar?” I ask.

  “Both,” she says.

  I stir them in and finally answer, “Family, I guess.”

  She makes a noise of understanding in her throat as she sips her coffee. “That’ll do it. That’s why I’ve stayed here. I’ve never been out of the state. I imagine it’s pretty different where you go, even without the firefighters.”

  “You’ll have to go sometime. Nothing like it.”

  She takes the offered coffee cup and smiles sadly. “Thanks. Maybe one day.”

  “What about you? What do you do when you’re not working at the restaurant or bartending?” I sit on the small recliner with my own cup of coffee and suck it back even though it’s piping hot. I could use the mental clarity before I do something stupid. Like beg her to stay with me.

  “Not much,” Avery answers with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’d like to go back to school one day, but for now all I do is work. Nothing as exciting as fighting wildfires.” She lets out a yawn, then an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day. I worked a double shift. The coffee is sobering me up, but unfortunately, I’m still dog tired. Some company I am, huh?”

  “Do you want to crash here?” I ask before I can stop myself. At her curious glance, I say, “Just sleep, I promise. Or I can call someone to take you home.”

  She’s already shaking her head before I finish the suggestion. “No, that’s okay. Um, if it’s not weird, I can sleep here and walk back to my car in the morning. I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

  Okay with it? It’d be a relief not to wake up all alone shrouded in nightmares. “I don’t mind. As long as you don’t care if I snore.”

  Avery giggles. “I’m so tired, I probably won’t even notice.”

  “Let me get you some clothes.” The skin-slick jeans and tight restaurant T-shirt don’t leave anything to the imagination, but they also probably wouldn’t be comfortable to sleep in. Plus, I like the thought of having her in my stuff, my scent on her skin. Like an indelible mark in some way.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  I take her empty cup and my half-drunk mug to the sink and retrieve a loose T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from my suitcase in the bedroom. When I turn, she’s already standing at the door, watching me. I’d be lying if I said having her near me with a bed so close didn’t make me think of her in it—without the clothes.

  “I’ll let you get changed.”

  While she undresses in the bedroom, I change into another pair of sweatpants in the attached bath. I do us both the courtesy of brushing my teeth and ignore the red-eyed reflection in the mirror. She’s lying under the covers when I come out. Maybe I like seeing her there more than I should.

  You’re a lonely piece of shit, Walker.

  But I get into bed with her anyway, sliding in between the sheets to soak up her warmth. Without any urging, she scoots to my side and wraps her arm around my waist like we’d been doing this for years. Maybe it hadn’t been her looks that had stopped me from going home by myself. Maybe the lost parts in me had recognized something similar in her.

  I mean to tell her I don’t normally do this either, but for the first time in months, I fall asleep without wondering what nightmares are waiting for me.

  Chapter 4

  Avery

  Maybe I didn’t make it through the storm.

  Maybe this is all a dream.

  I never thought I’d see him again after that night, though I’d done enough social media stalking to try and find him. Kind of hard to do when I didn’t even know his last name.

  Walker doesn’t break stride, merely shifts his destination to my direction, his long, lean legs eating up the distance between us. My feet are glued to the earth beneath them and it’s like going through the storm a second time to have him right in front of me. He hasn’t changed a bit in months since I last saw him. If anything, he’s even more devastatingly handsome.

  Kitted out in a Battleboro Fire and Rescue uniform, he’s not only handsome, he’s heart-stopping. I’d forgotten how tall he is until he comes to a stop in front of me. Nearly six-two to my five-six, he may as well be a giant. I remember waking up that night after being wrapped up in him and I’d felt so safe and protected. I’d never felt like that before in my life. It’s addicting—that feeling of being safe. A girl could learn to get used to having a man make her feel protected. Maybe that’s why I’d run.

  “Christ, Avery. Is that you? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  I have to close my eyes hard and pull myself back to the present. “No, it’s not me. I’m fine. It’s my neighbors. They’re trapped inside their house. Can you help?” I want to take the words back as soon as they come out of my mouth, but Mary and Tom need my help. That’s all this is. That’s all it can be.

  “Sure. Lead the way.”

  I’m hyper aware of him right behind me and my mind is racing the whole walk up to the front door. All I can think is that I need to get away from him as quickly as possible.

  “If you’ll keep them calm, I’ll see if I can get this tree out of their door. Have them stay back just in case.”

  Nodding, I go to the front window and get as close as I can. “Mary, there’s a firefighter here to help. He wants you guys to stay away from the door while he tries to get the block out of the way. Okay?”

  “Okay, Avery. You tell him thank you for us!” Mary shouts and then everything is drowned out by the buzzing of the chainsaw.

  I back away a few feet, but still stay in view of the front window in case Mary or Tom need me. Naturally, my eyes are drawn to Walker as he attempts to cut the limb down and I can’t seem to look away no matter how much I order myself to. His uniform is covered in a fine layer of dust. They must have been working with chainsaws all morning clearing out paths to houses. If the dark circles under his eyes are any indication, he’s been at it a while already.

  A dozen questions spring to mind. Namely, what the hell he’s doing here of all places and why? Then I wonder how long he plans to stay. If he’s going back for another contract, I’d prefer he did it sooner rather than later…before things get even more complicated than they already are.

  I worry at a nail, biting it down to the quick, as he cuts another divot into the limb. Sweat beads on his forehead and a dark furrow is already soaked into the material of his uniform T-shirt at his back. My mind instantly goes to the identical one I stole from him that I secreted away in my underwear drawer. I take another step away from him to find a pocket of cool air to breathe, but there’s none to be found.

  The limb gives way with a furious crack and Walker heaves it to the side with a strength that has all the feminine parts of me clench up in appreciation. Yes. I definitely need to make a quick getaway. Clearly the months haven’t been enough to dull the effect he has on me. Though I’m not sure a decade would be enough time to accomplish that.

  Another few minutes and he has the door all clear. Despite my reservations, I really do care about Mary and Tom, so I follow close behind as he sets the chainsaw aside, then knocks and enters. Their living room is a mess of broken glass and debris that Walker and I carefully pick over to where the elderly couple is hovering in their bedroom. Seeing them, I’m reminded of Grandma Rosie and the baby and know I have to get home soon. Grandma Rosie may have moments of lucidity, but she can’t be in care of the baby for long.

  “Are you two all right?” Walker asks. “I’m with the fire department. Do you need any medical attention?”

  He conducts an interview with both of them as I watch, and I’m struck by his competence and efficiency. I’ve imagined him as a firefighter plenty of times before, but there’s someth
ing more vulnerable about this aspect of his job that I’d never considered. There’s a humane kindness in his bandaging of a scrape on Mary’s forehead and a respectful concern as he takes Tom’s heart rate and blood pressure. The fluttering inside me is located decidedly north this time. My heart can’t seem to handle watching him care for these people.

  “You’ll call our daughter for us?” Mary asks for the second time. “She’ll come out to get us when the roads are clear enough.”

  “Yes, ma’am. And I’ll come by in the morning with food and water for you. They’re supposed to be delivering some from Red Cross, the food banks. Do you have enough to last until then?”

  “We’ll be fine. We appreciate all your help,” Tom answers.

  “Any time. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “You let me know if you need anything before then,” I tell Mary.

  “Thank you for coming to check on us,” she says. “I don’t think we ever would have gotten out of here if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Don’t you worry about it. That’s what neighbors are for. I better go and check on Grandma Rosie.”

  “You give that baby of yours some sugar for me,” Mary calls after me.

  My heart leaps into my throat and I glance at the porch to make sure Walker didn’t hear her. Thankfully, he’s too busy clearing a path down the walk to the driveway to have paid any mind to us.

  “I will,” I answer Mary and close the door behind me before she can say anything else too revealing.

  Walker is probably in town in between contracts again. Next season when it’s time for him to leave, he’ll be gone again and that’s probably for the best. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.