Page 8 of A Gift for her Festive Firefighter

Cade rolled his eyes and put his head down in his hands in sheer frustration. The nitwit was texting someone while working on a fire? No wonder the town needed a captain for the fire station. The other one probably quit out of sheer frustration!

How did Reese or Chase do this and stay sane? He thought wildly, looking over his shoulder to see that the engineer, nicknamed ‘Mayberry’ was on his cell phone too. He could feel his blood pressure rising almost like one of those cartoon thermometer’s where the tiny bulb exploded at the end – but that would serve no one except feed the gossips a bit more fodder to feast on. Breathe, Cade. Just breathe. They don’t know, which is why you are here. Everyone starts somewhere, and you’ll get more flies with honey than vinegar.

Two days later, his head was throbbing from a massive migraine, and the chief had already pulled him aside to talk to him about losing his temper. Apparently, confiscating the cell phones and putting them in the glove box, locking it, and instructing them on the new rules put his entire team in a royal snit.

Unfortunately, Cade did not have the same bond with his chief as he did with Reese Carpenter. Nope. This man was in his early sixties and talking about retirement with every sentence, dropping hints left and right, making the guys who worked on the truck nearly foaming at the mouth in a lathered frenzy, wondering which of them would get the desirable position of fire chief.

“They need to focus,” Cade told Chief Marcum.

“Agreed – and by taking their phones, you made your team distracted, putting them all at risk…”

“Wait a second, how am I in the wrong?”

“I didn’t say you were wrong. I told you that you created a distraction for your team, endangering them. You need to be more creative with them, which is why you get paid the big bucks.”

“Chief Johnson, if you remember – I took a pay cut to come here because you promised me complete control over the team and the position of captain.”

“And you have both, so long as you are prudent with your actions. I would recommend a few team-building activities to create a bond with your team mates.”

“Team… building… activities?”

“Yes, yes,” the man smiled, twirling his large white handlebar mustache that was pretty impressive; even Cade had to admit it. “If you go into a fire, you need to know your team has your back. If they go into a fire, they need that same security. I may not know everything, but I do know how to run a team. That’s why I’m the chief for now.”

“Heaven help us all,” Cade muttered, grabbing his bag and heading out to his truck, remembering the conversation. Dropping his things in the truck bed, he sat down in the driver’s seat and put his head against the steering wheel.

Did the fire chief think he was going to cause Cade to turn over a new leaf at the hint of possible advancement, too? The idea of taking over this disaster was horrifying, and there was a good chance that if he knew then what he knew now – Cade might not have left Ember Creek. Right now, he felt stuck, and all he wanted to do was run as fast as possible away from this town— which wasn’t an option.

Starting his truck, he hesitated and then groaned. Something was clicking under the hood and didn’t sound normal. No, there was a weird flap-flap sound accompanied by a whirring, clicking sound. Opening the hood, he immediately turned off the vehicle and groaned.

Cursing swiftly under his breath, he winced.

The belt was coming apart, and that was part of the noise, the other half, he still wasn’t sure, but no one could deny the stream of green coolant running down the side of the radiator. He’d sprung a leak, and that was above his repair skills. The only thing that he was positive about was that he was meeting ‘Ol’ Barry first thing this morning – as long as his truck didn’t overheat or die on the way there.

Sliding back into the seat, Cade put it into reverse, gingerly limping the beloved truck through town toward the mechanics shop in the distance.

“Time to feed the gossips…” he muttered, putting his truck into gear.

Chapter 4

HOLLY

“NOOOOOO!” Holly wailed desperately, shaking her Keurig, only to hear a hiss, click, and see blinking lights on top. “No, no, no! You can’t die on me, buster. You and me – we are a thing. We have a routine. Two strong cups of Café du Monde K-Cups, no sugar, a bit of heavy cream. I don’t ask a lot but I am begging for one cup, if not two. You hear me?”

Hiss.

Click.

Blinkity-blink… and na-da.

“Okay, do not panic, Holly. You’ve got this,” she muttered, feeling the burgeoning panic associated with a caffeine addict – and hesitated. Maybe this is what Davy went through? “No! Don’t you even think of slumming or excusing his drug addiction. You deserve better. Just like I deserve a working Keurig machine!”

Holly swore angrily, ripping the plug out of the wall, shaking the unit angrily enough to slosh the water and cause even Dr. Freud to raise an eyebrow at the agitation she was displaying. Plugging it back in, she groaned in defeat. Not even the lights were coming on now.

“Plastic… garbage…” she grumbled, unplugging the Keurig again and grabbing her wallet. “You think you are going to ruin my day – well, think again. You might have the upper hand now, but I will have the last laugh. You are going dumpster diving, never to be seen again, and I am going to get some real coffee from a smiling face who understands the need for caffeine and doesn’t ignore me or hiss at me. You think you are soooo smart? Well, you are getting replaced – you hear me?”

Kissing the lid that opened, revealing the bucket to insert the K-Cup, she muttered once more angrily.

“Last time you hiss at me and then just spittle a bit of water with coffee grounds – you hear me? I’m going to find myself a new buddy who appreciates coffee,” and she flung the unit into the dumpster beside her car – before angrily giving the dumpster, containing the broken Keurig, her middle finger.

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