Firefly Mountain (2 page)

With a whole Sunday stretching out before her, Gini was eager to get out to the south garden. She’d been so busy taking pictures at graduations, weddings, and family reunions this summer she hadn’t been able to spend the time she usually did in that garden. Cardinals and jays would finish off her blueberries if she didn’t get out there and pick some soon. Her father had been bugging her for tomatoes.

“Salad’s not a salad without my Gini’s tomatoes,” he’d said last week.

Smiling at the look in her father’s eyes as he thought about fresh garden tomatoes, Gini went out to the potting shed and gathered a basket, clippers, and a shovel. The path to the south garden was trimmed with wild violets, so purple in the August heat. The breeze carried the scent of the lavender growing around the fringe of the fruit and vegetable patch. Inhaling, Gini let the tranquility surround her. Let it keep any tension away.

No angry thoughts here. Angry thoughts were dangerous. Angry thoughts weren’t allowed.

Gini lost herself in weeding, trimming, collecting. With dirt caked under her fingernails, she hauled a full basket back to the house. She headed up the back porch stairs but stopped when tires rolling along the gravel driveway sounded behind her.

“Hey, Gini.” Jonah, her brother, smiled from the open window of his Mustang convertible. He hopped out without opening the car door and took the heavy basket from Gini before she could stop him.

“What are you doing here?” Gini held open the porch door, and Jonah scooted in.

“Thought we could get in a ride. Not too hot this morning. Horses shouldn’t mind.” Jonah dumped the basket on the counter by the sink. He automatically washed the fruits and vegetables. Gini couldn’t understand why he hadn’t landed himself a smart gal to settle down with yet.

That wasn’t true. She knew why. Smart gals didn’t marry firefighters. They drooled and lusted after firefighters, but didn’t marry them. Too risky. Too many things could take a firefighter husband away from you. Gini had watched her mother worry about her father too many times to count. She’d once asked her mother why she’d married her father.

“He’s my soul mate,” her mother had said. “That overrules the danger of losing him.”

Gini didn’t see how that was possible. Best to stay away from firefighters. Go for a safe office man. Only office men in Burnam were a rarity. Most of the guys she knew were firefighters or some other brand of reckless male.

She was better off alone anyway.

“A ride is a perfect idea,” Gini said. “I’ll go round up Moon and Nyx.”

“Great.” Jonah grinned, looking so much like their father. “I’ll meet you out there after I finish washing these.”

Nodding, Gini went outside. On a short whistle, Moon and Nyx galloped back up to the barn. They cooperated as she saddled them both and led them to the trail that snaked through the woods on the west side of her property.

Jonah did his best cowboy swagger over to Gini and the horses. By the time he tipped his imaginary ten-gallon hat, Gini was nearly on all fours laughing. Could always count on Jonah to keep her dark thoughts at bay.

If it weren’t for her brother—her entire family really—life would have been difficult. Impossible even.

“Come in, Barre.” Chief Warner gestured to a chair in front of his desk. Maple with a block of walnut where the legs met the top. Patrick thumbed a rounded corner of the desk as he sat. Couldn’t help himself. He’d worked with maple before. Good and solid. Maybe he’d make his kitchen cabinets out of maple. Maple trees constituted a large portion of the forest surrounding his property. Only seemed fitting to use the hardwood in his remodeling.

“You settled in on that chunk of land up there?” Chief Warner asked.

“Good enough. Yesterday my sister helped me unpack the few items I brought with me to Vermont.” More like
made
him unpack. He would have been content to live out of his perfectly organized and labeled boxes for a few weeks, but Raina wouldn’t hear of it.

“It’ll be too easy for you to load these boxes back into your truck and go back to Rhode Island,” she’d said. “If you unpack, you’re more likely to stay.”

“I’m staying, Raina.”

She’d looked at him for a long, silent moment. “I hope so, Patrick. I’ve missed you.”

Raina was one of the few people who could make Patrick smile. Really smile.

“Missed you too.”

And before he’d known what was happening, Raina had wrapped her slender arms around his waist and squeezed as if she were ten years old again and Patrick was sixteen.

He’d protected her. Saved her. But Julianne. Julianne was a different story.

“You’re a certified career firefighter, right?” Chief Warner’s voice brought Patrick back to the present.

“Yes, sir. Ten years with the Providence Fire Department, four of which I worked consulting with the police as fire investigator.” Putting out fires had kept him busy, but helping solve fire-related crimes or determining how a fire had started had challenged him.

“Got your own dog too? Trained and everything?” Chief Warner glanced outside his office window at Patrick’s gray pickup truck where one large black German Shepherd sat in the bed, its muzzle resting on the tailgate.

“That’s right. Midas is certified as well.”

Chief Warner glanced at the file folder of papers on his desk. “That dog’s resume is almost as impressive as yours. I think the Burnam Fire Department is getting a good deal with the two of you.”

He stood and offered his hand to Patrick. With a tight-gripped handshake, Chief Warner nodded at Patrick’s humble silence.

“We’re a small outfit, but the only fire department in the area who has full-time firefighters. The rest operate with volunteers. Do a mighty fine job, but we’re expected to do even better work. I think you’ll like it here, Barre.”

“Hope so, sir.” Patrick stood and followed the chief to the door.

“Claremont!” Chief Warner hollered into the vehicle bay. A tall, athletically built man with wavy blond hair looked up from where he was replacing air cylinders on the oxygen tanks.

“Yeah, Chief?”

“Jonah Claremont, this is Patrick Barre, aka The New Guy,” Chief Warner said. “Pretend you know what you’re doing around this place, Claremont, and give him a tour.”

Though sarcasm laced the chief’s words, the grins on both men’s faces were playful, teasing. Patrick had heard about fire stations where the fighters were like brothers. He’d never experienced the sensation himself. Not because the guys in Providence weren’t nice and hadn’t tried, but because he preferred to keep to himself. Maybe here things would be different though. If he let them be.

“Grab that good-looking dog of yours, Barre. He’s earned a right to Claremont’s tour as well.” Chief Warner gave him a wave as he disappeared back into his office.

“That dog’s yours?” Jonah asked. “I’ve never seen an all black German Shepherd. He looks like a wolf.”

Patrick followed Jonah to the station’s parking lot. As soon as they reached the truck, Midas stood on all fours and whimpered.

“We’re coming for you, buddy.” Jonah opened the tailgate and the dog jumped down. “What’s his name?”

“Midas.” Patrick watched as Midas licked every square inch of Jonah’s face.

Jonah chuckled when the dog pawed at his shoulders almost knocking him over.

“Midas,
asseyez
.” Patrick pulled on the dog’s collar until Midas sat on his haunches. “Sorry. He’s not usually so…friendly.”

“It’s okay. I’m an animal guy. He probably smells my sister’s horses or cat on me. Was by her place this morning for a ride then helped her fix a broken barn door. You handy, Patrick?”

“You could say that.” Patrick thought of all the woodworking he’d done during his lifetime. Furniture, sheds, houses. He’d tried building it all. He couldn’t wait to dive in on his house. It had potential. A little rundown and outdated, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Good,” Jonah said. “You can trust a guy who knows how to use a hammer. I mean really use it, not just carry it around in his tool belt, you know?”

Patrick supposed it was a good way to measure a man. If his own gauging system were any good, he’d say this Jonah guy was all right.

“This way.” Jonah led Patrick back to the station. Midas trailed after them both, stopping only to sniff at random spots on the floor.

“How long have you been with the Burnam Fire Department?” Patrick asked. Small talk made him uncomfortable, but he figured the situation called for it.

“Pretty much forever.” Jonah looked back and grinned as he took the stair steps two at a time. “My daddy was chief here before Warner. I grew up in this station. Lost my virginity in the parking lot right out back.”

He turned down a narrow hallway that dumped into a tidy kitchen area. The walls were knotted pine and smelled of outdoors. Patrick breathed deeply, feeling oddly at home in the space. Pine cabinets hung above and below a dark green countertop. Stainless steel appliances broke up the golden wood that flowed from wall to wall. A long, sturdy table with chunky legs and benches on both sides sat in the middle of the room.

“This here’s our dining quarters, obviously. My mother sees that the fridge is always packed and sometimes, if we’ve all been good, she’ll make us a home-cooked meal. When we can, all us fighters sit together, as long as there’s no fire burning somewhere, and have us a family-like banquet. Lots of nice guys work here. You’ll see.”

Jonah’s blue eyes softened when he talked about the fighters. “Suppose you had some nice guys back where you came from. Where was that anyway?”

“Providence.” Patrick shifted his weight from foot to foot. The guys in Rhode Island had always been kind to him, but he hadn’t gotten to know any of them on a personal level. Hadn’t ever eaten dinner family-style with them. Hadn’t even considered it.

“Spent some time visiting in Rhode Island,” Jonah said. “Nice beaches. Good frozen lemonade.”

Patrick laughed and the sound startled him. It had slipped through his lips with no effort at all. He cleared his throat and followed Jonah.

With more small talk and stops to introduce some of the other fighters, Jonah prodded Patrick and Midas into the dorm then moved onto the workout room, followed by the classroom, equipment storage, and vehicle bays. Every area was spotless and organized. Just the way Patrick liked it.

When Jonah showed him the lavatory complete with showers, Patrick kept walking, pretending he wanted to see the rest of the station. He’d managed to never use the station’s showers in Providence, and he planned to do the same in Burnam. His body was his business, and he’d stick to cleaning it in the privacy of his own home where no one could judge him.

“It’s not enormous,” Jonah said, “but it’s functional and efficient. We get to the emergencies in record speed and always have what we need. That’s the point.”

“Agreed.” Patrick turned in a small circle below the fire pole Jonah had insisted on using to get back to ground level.

“You starting today?” Jonah asked. Midas nosed at his hands until Jonah gave the dog a back rub.

“Tomorrow,” Patrick said. “Midas and I need to check in with the police department today.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning then.” Jonah held out a hand. “Hope the tour was helpful.”

Patrick shook Jonah’s hand. “It was. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Jonah bent to get eye level with Midas. “Pleasure meeting you, doggy. I look forward to working with you. Both of you.” He glanced up to Patrick.

“
Secouez
, Midas.” On that command, Midas lifted a paw to shake hands, and Jonah laughed as he accepted it.

“He must rake in the ladies for you,” Jonah said as he stood.

Patrick hesitated, not sure what to say. Jonah didn’t give him the chance to respond. Instead, he motioned Patrick over to the back doors of the station and pointed.

“See that shiny, red Mustang over there? The convertible? That’s how I rake in the ladies.” Jonah wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll take you for a drive soon. You’ll see.” He elbowed Patrick and again the urge to laugh surprised Patrick.

“Unless you’ve already got a lady,” Jonah said.

Patrick shook his head and snapped his fingers at Midas, who immediately gave up sniffing at Jonah’s boots. “See you tomorrow, Jonah.”

“Later.”

Outside, the summer air was motionless. Patrick opened the door to his truck and let Midas scamper over to the passenger seat. After climbing in himself, he spent a few moments hanging on to the steering wheel in the suffocating heat. How was it that he’d only spent about thirty minutes in that station, but felt more at home than he’d ever felt in Rhode Island?

Shaking his head, Patrick started the truck and headed to the police station down the street. He had a meeting with the detective in charge of fire-related cases that he didn’t want to be late for. Something about this silly little town had him wanting to make a good first impression. Never concerned him before. He was good at his job. He knew that. But for some reason, he had the urge to be better.

****

Gini held her breath as she did whenever she developed pictures in the darkroom at her studio in town. Something about watching an image appear on the photo paper that was magic to her. Always had been. Each picture, even though she’d been the one to take it with her camera, was a surprise, a gift.

She smiled as the little hummingbird emerged on the photo in her hands now. Its body hovered outside the honeysuckle bloom, needle-like beak poised above the petals. Her patience in capturing this shot had paid off. The editors at
Leaf
would love this picture.

A series of four short knocks on the darkroom door made Gini clip the almost completely visible picture to the drying line. She turned off the equipment she’d been using and opened the door.

“Sorry to bug you,” Gini’s assistant and general best friend, Haddy Thetford, said, “but Chief Warner called and said…yes.” Haddy’s eyes opened wide as her lips turned up in a huge grin.