Wildfire Wedding (3 page)

He ended the call. “I need to go. Grass fire, north side of town. It shouldn't take long to get it under control.”

Krista nodded. “Let me know when you're done. If you need anything, I'll drive it out there.”

He bent to give her a kiss before he left them.

#

Luke's pulse raced as he pulled out of the parking lot. He'd only taken enough time to ensure his gear was in the back of the truck, and he drove straight to the volunteer fire station.

A few other volunteers arrived on the scene just as he did. Suiting up, in boots and gear. Checking of tools, equipment.

D.J. was in the garage bay, along with several others of the crew, starting up the two brush trucks.

“We've gotta go, gotta go!” D.J. called out as they all took their seats. “Hansen, you're with me.”

Luke climbed into the cab of the truck and they roared out of the garage.

“It's on Donny Bixby's land—he's not sure how it started, but it got out of control and he called right away,” D.J. explained over the sound of the engine. “He and his neighbors are working on it. Only a dozen acres right now, but the wind speed's low.”

“Gotcha.” Luke nodded. Was the guy trying to do his own controlled burn of undergrowth, despite the county wide burn ban? Normally during unrestricted burning times, the only deterrent would be the wind. Never surprised him, though, when somebody didn't think the law applied to them, or they could “handle it.” He didn't know for sure, and the most important thing right now was getting that fire contained as quickly as possible, no matter how it started.

Lights flashing, the two brush trucks, sirens wailing, headed out of Settler Lake and into the open countryside.

As far as Bixby's place was from town, there were no fire hydrants. Luke didn't know if Bixby had any water supply besides a well or stock tank.

“Bixby got any tank water?”

D.J. shook his head. “Not enough. One of the reasons he called us. He can't pump enough to get this under control.”

In addition to bringing tanks of water, they also had good old muscles and shovels to dig fire breaks. Fire breaks would be ideal—as long as the wind didn't pick up too much. If they needed water, another community's department would be on standby, ready to help them.

Right now, the trees and cedar bushes they passed remained nearly motionless.

Smoke rose above the next low hill. They were nearly at the Bixby ranch.

Luke focused on what lay ahead of them. Normally, he didn't have a problem leaving Krista. She knew the deal and accepted his volunteer firefighter status. She kept active in the ladies' auxiliary and would join them at the Bixbys if needed, providing food and drink. But maybe this fire would be an easy one to contain and extinguish.

Now, what he'd left behind at the restaurant? Luke wasn't too sure how that would all play out. The Lord knew he'd made a mess a few years back with Krista. They'd reconciled and put the past behind him. Vonda Schmidt, his mother-in-law to be, had gone from hating him to tolerating him. He'd determined long ago—as had Krista—not to let any of Vonda's barbs cause a rift between them.

“So, you about ready for the big day?” D.J. asked.

“I'm past ready. Krista's pretty well moved all her stuff into the house now,” he replied, then followed up with, “but she's staying with Nana Schmidt until Saturday.”

“You don't have to explain yourself to me. Kinda nice, hearing about some young folks saving all the fireworks for their wedding night. Lotsa young'uns cheapen it by hoppin' into bed, willy-nilly, no commitment. Well, we were doin' the same thing back in the day, when I was younger. That don't make it right.”

Oh, he and Krista had had fireworks before—in the past. But that was past. With them renewing their relationship, they both determined to honor God and save physical intimacy until their wedding night, even if that idea seemed old-fashioned to some. That didn't mean Luke didn't remember. . .

All he did was nod at D.J.'s comment. “Times really haven't changed much, have they?”

“Nope.”

They both fell silent as D.J. downshifted and turned the vehicle, pulling into the long driveway flanked by live oak trees.

The scent of burning cedar and other brush came in through the truck's vents. And the scent of fire. Even a small fire could turn deadly, and this one was no different.

For the next several hours, Luke only thought of chopping down brush, digging a fire break, and helping hose down the area with the bit of water they'd brought with them. Another set of volunteers came—this time from over in Turnersville. Nobody got paid for this, and nobody expected to.

They were all neighbors helping neighbors. They learned as they went. Luke had learned from his own father, who'd worked for decades as a firefighter until they lost him to a heart attack. Now, D.J. was his mentor.

The nearly 70-year-old Army veteran showed no signs of slowing down today, either, as he worked alongside the others. Luke hoped to have half the guy's energy when he was the same age.

At last, with twilight descending on them, the fire—which burned almost ten acres—was nothing more than a smoldering mass of charred fields and brush. As always, the thrill of pride swept through Luke as he surveyed the area. They'd conquered the fire, today.

“We done good, we done good,” D.J. announced to the crew.

Mrs. Bixby greeted them with a tray of cold drinks in the ranch yard. “I don't know what we would've done if y'all hadn't gotten here so quickly.”

Don Bixby echoed his wife's sentiment, his face sweaty and smudged with earth. He'd been right there with them, trying to keep the fire from approaching any of his outbuildings and pastures.

“We're glad we were able to help,” Luke said, picking up a glass of lemonade. His stomach growled. He'd barely eaten half a slice of pizza before getting called away. Krista hadn't made it out to the Bixbys, but neither had any of the rest of the auxiliary. She probably had her hands full with her mother, and last-minute details. And, her mother.

They left the Bixbys, with D.J. promising to come by and survey the area to check for any hot spots in the morning. Nobody offered an explanation about how the fire started, but the sheriff's department had been there, noting a round metal barrel of smoldering trash on a corner of the property. Luke had a feeling the Bixbys would likely be cited for breaking the law.

But he was thankful things hadn't turned worse because of someone's foolishness. God's grace at work, keeping them from the fire this time.

He arrived home after dark to find Jeff kicked back in the den, watching some television. The ten o'clock local news had just clicked on.

“Welcome back,” Jeff said, rising from where he'd draped himself on the couch. “Got some pizza on the counter. Krista sent the rest of it home with me and I ordered an extra large pepperoni to go.”

“Thanks.” He headed straight for the refrigerator for a bottled water. “How'd you get it all home?”

“Krista gave me a ride, toted your bike in the trunk.”

“Ah.” He unscrewed the bottle's lid and took a sip. Of course, she did. Krista was kind. She was like that; no matter her personal feelings about someone, it wouldn't deter her from showing consideration to them. Maybe she'd done it for Luke; and that made him love her all the more.

He'd had misgivings about asking Jeff, at one time his closest friend from college, to be his best man. They'd been through a lot, those years. While Luke had his own struggles to make his faith his own, Jeff had drifted away from it. Yet, their friendship still remained easy to pick up not quite two years ago. Then, when deciding on a best man and groomsmen, Jeff had been his choice for best man.

He'd asked Krista what she'd thought about his selection. She'd suggested Barry, one of the other volunteer fire fighters who also attended their church. Barry was a groomsman, his son their ringbearer. But no, not the best man.

Jeff joined him in the kitchen and pulled a can of Dr Pepper from the fridge. “Man, you’re really taking the plunge.” Jeff popped the top. “You left all we had in Southern Cal and came back to this.” Lightning flickered in the kitchen windows.

Luke grinned. He pulled a slice of pizza, straight from the plate. “Yeah, I sure did.” And he could hardly wait.

“I’ve done it twice, and I’m much wiser and poorer man.” Jeff ambled to the den, a few steps down from the sprawling kitchen. “Marriage is highly overrated, and there are plenty of desperate women in the world who just want to date and have a good time. No strings attached.”

“But you're giving your stamp of approval on mine?”

Jeff set his drink down on the coffee table. “Hey, this is your decision. . .for you. And I'm glad you and Krista worked things out. I fully support you two as a couple. I'm just sayin', it's not for me.”

“Okay. Good. But I didn't realize you'd remarried after Carrie.”

He nodded. “Megan. It only lasted six months.”

Jeff clicked on the TV and changed the channel to HGTV. “Hey, have you seen Reilly and Kincaid—they're on a contracting show. Remember when? They were just starting out when you left Cali.”

Luke gazed across the breakfast bar toward the den. “You don't say.” The two home builders faced the camera, talking about the high-end kitchen Reilly had designed and Kincaid had built. Luke found a plate for his pizza, stacked two slices on it, then joined Jeff on the couch.

Jeff took a swig of his Dr Pepper. “Still a shame. It could've been us. But you left.”

“Yeah.” Luke frowned, then took a bite of pizza. “It was a tough decision. You bought me out, fair and square. I couldn't afford the business anymore. But here, in Texas, I've made a name for myself.”

“No harm, no foul. Things have worked out for you here. I'm glad.” Jeff settled back onto the cushion. “So I've got to say, you've done a great job with this place. Pictures don't do it justice.”

“Krista calls it our 'diamond in the rough.' We pretty much redid everything. The hardwood floors are original and so are the door frames. But everything else needed updating.”

“I bet.” Jeff studied him intently. “What if I had an opportunity for you to do better than you are here? What about coming back to California? It would be like you never left, almost.”

Luke paused. He'd enjoyed building his business here in Settler Lake. When he and Krista reconciled, he'd bought this house. They'd spent the last year fixing it up. He'd promised her they'd never leave.

“I'm not planning to move.”

“What if I made you an offer you couldn't refuse?”

He
did
have their future to consider. He considered his words carefully. “I'll listen to what you have to say, but I'm going to talk to Krista about it. And she and I will pray about it, too.”

“Still into that church-y stuff.”

“It's not church-y stuff, you know that,” he tried to say as gently has he could. Jeff had been let down by the church, to put it mildly. Having your church's older choir director come onto you during your senior year of high school, well, it was something that stayed with a guy.

“Right. Anyway, we'll talk later. Y
ou game for a run in the morning after all this pizza tonight?” Jeff’s outward bravado masked the hurt Luke knew lurked below the surface.

“Probably. Not far, though.” Luke opened his soda. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Carrie. Are you sure there’s no chance you can get back together?”

“Not unless the guy she left me for drops off the face of the earth.” Jeff glared at the television. A muscled, tan player dove to the sand.

“Do you want her back?”

Jeff nodded and blinked. “I do. I know I said I wasn't for marriage anymore. But Carrie had me fooled, and I thought I’d fooled her. She beat me at my own game of not getting tied down. The strange thing is, I still love her. I—I know why she did what she did, running off with Emilio. Megan was a rebound, our relationship was a mistake.” His face assumed a blank expression as he stared at the screen.

“What are you looking for, Jeff?”
Tell him—you know what he wants so desperately.

“I have no idea.” Jeff’s shoulders sank.

“You won’t find it in fast cars, women, or even your own show.”

Jeff sat up straight again. “But I can have fun trying.” Then he stood.

The smart-Alec approach used to crack Luke up. They used to carry on like a couple of wiseacres for hours. Now it just seemed sad.

And what Jeff said about leaving Settler Lake? He couldn't—they couldn't—not without Krista's full support. He scanned the living room. Touches of Krista’s presence filled the home he’d worked to restore for the past year.

Then Saturday night, he would carry her across the threshold and they’d spend the night here before flying to Hawaii on Sunday afternoon.

Oh, Krista, I wouldn’t trade our life together for any of what I left behind. Not anymore.

THREE

The sun peered through the trees and slanted across the weight bench and into Luke’s eyes. Another hot one on the way. Luke finished his bench press and let the bar onto the rack. He sat up on the bench and then moved across the room to close the blind. What he wouldn’t give for a good, soaking rainstorm to sweep down the west. After the lightning show yesterday—nothing. His throat still burned from fighting the fire last night.