Page 2 of A Gift for her Festive Firefighter

“Actually, I’ve gotta go,” he began, hesitating at the lump in his throat. It would be so nice to say things were coming up roses, but this job was harder than anything he’d experienced. Every time there was a fire, Cade was terrified one of the team wouldn’t make it back. His job was no longer to go rushing into the thick of things – but to coordinate everything else behind the scenes, giving instructions, and he felt like a fake.

Cade was nowhere near as cool or collected as Marks or Carpenter – and felt like he never would be.

“You know, it’s not an easy job,” Reese volunteered quietly. “That’s why I wanted to call and say ‘hello’. I always wished I had someone to speak to when I felt like I was drowning – so maybe we can call the pudge at my waist, the ‘ol’ life raft of knowledge,’ if you ever need to chat or pick my brain. You might be on the other side of the state, but to me – you will always be family.”

“I really appreciate that,” he said hoarsely. “And I might take you up on that someday.”

“The offer is always there.”

“’Preciate it.”

“We’ll talk soon – and just so you know? It’s not all smooth here without you. You’ll never guess what happened today.”

“What?”

“The new probie decided he needed to answer Nature’s Call in the middle of a fire because there was a bidet on the toilet…” Cade burst out laughing wildly, imagining what had happened and Reese’s reaction to it. The older man was snorting with laughter and could barely get the words out – but it was enough.

“I’m gonna picture that for weeks, you know that?”

“Pass alarm went off and everything… I’ve been laughing since this morning and every time I look at his face – I start giggling again like I’m a ten-year-old girl.”

“I bet.”

“Enjoy and take it easy, brother.”

“Thanks, Reese – you too.”

Ending the call, Cade sighed heavily and leaned his head back, letting it hang and facing the heavens above in exasperation. He had his own set of dorks to contend with and maybe that was why Reese shared. Perhaps this was part of growing as a captain, and he hoped so because the last month had been sheer Hell.

The only solace he had in this small town was driving around his old truck and trying to unwind without the gossips having a field day. If he thought Ember Creek was bad… man-o-man.

Sweet Bloom could teach lessons.

Everyone knew everything – in the worst ways possible. If there was a hiccup on the scene of a fire, everyone knew about it by the time he got off of his shift. If he went to the grocery, the cashier asked what happened. If he dropped in to get an ice cream cone at Scoops, someone always stopped him. The only person that people gossiped about more was the reformed addict, Lena, who started a new life up north someplace in Wyoming.

Weird.

People came to Texas to start over – they sure didn’t leave it. The wide-open skies, the sense of pride the people had, and mercy… can we talk about the barbecue! It’s like ‘pitmaster’ was part of the genetic code here in these parts. There were just several things that felt ‘normal’ to him, that would make others cringe or feel out of place. He had a rack in the back glass of his truck where his rifle sat. There was a slot in the pocket of his driver’s door where his Bowie slipped in. Every man worth their salt had his hunting license and kept it in the vehicle. The only thing Cade didn’t do was chew tobacco – and that wasn’t because he hadn’t tried it. The spitting was a bit much, even for him.

Strolling inside to pay, Cade grinned and raised his hand.

“How’s it going, Jorge?”

“Better than you…” the old man chuckled, replying with their standard greeting between the two of them since Cade moved into town.

“You got that right. Six feet up is always better than six feet down – so I’ll take it.”

“You and me both. Should I ring up the regular?”

“Yup – Slim Jim, Cheetos, cherry Icee…oh wait, just a minute,” Cade exclaimed in mock-surprise as he swung his gaze to the man. “Jorge, are you holding out on me or is this new?”

Cade held up a pack of Fruit-by-the-Foot gum – and smiled.

“I don’t chew, but you sneaky fella… you sure do know my weakness.”

“Sugar?”

“Sugar.”

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