Page 10 of Ink and Ashes
Making my way down the steps, I pull my sunglasses onto my face before starting the short walk to the market. The Scarlet faces one of the side streets that run perpendicular to Grove Street, butit’s right on the corner and less than a ten-minute walk to where all the shops are. Walking gives me a better opportunity to really take in the area, and I have a feeling I’d be sorely judged if I were caught driving three minutes down the road anyway.
In my research, I learned there’s a farmer’s market on Grove Street every Wednesday and Saturday that runs until early afternoon. The onlymarketI ever visited in Toronto was St. Lawrence, and that’s a much different atmosphere than a small-town farmer’s market. Growing up, I never spent much time outside the city, so the homey, community feeling of Ember Grove is brand new to me.
I make my way through the vendors, heading to grab the fresh fruit Mary requested first. After grabbing a basket of mixed berries and some peaches, I continue toward the booth for Cedar Lane Café. I have yet to venture into the little shop, but based on the look of their baked goods, I may have to pop in before I head over to the library.
“Hi,” I say to the mid-thirties woman standing behind the booth. She eyes me with the same look I’ve been getting from everyone the past few days.
“Are you her?” she asks, not bothering with pleasantries.
I play dumb. “Am I who?”
“That reporter. We all heard about your run-in with Lieutenant Caldwell the other day. It’s a small town—news travels faster than the wildfires you’re here toinvestigate.” She says the last word with a hint of disgust, and I don’t even bother correcting her on thereportercomment.
“I suppose I am.”
She sneers. “What do you thinkyoucan do that our firefighters can’t?”
I roll my lips together, forcing myself to stay calm. She worded it as a question, but it isn’t one. She’s already written me off, and fortunately for her, she’s not someone whose opinion I care to change.
I avert my gaze, glancing down at the different pastries laid out in front of me.
“Can I get two of the blueberry scones, two cheese danishes, and one chocolate croissant?” I ask, unwilling to give this woman another moment of my time.
She scoffs but takes my change of subject for what it is. She packs up the goodies in a box and I pay.
“Thank you. It was a pleasure,” I tell her, forcing a smile on my face. Before she can respond, I turn and walk away.
I’d prepared myself for hostility from Ember Grove’s residents, but I won’t stand for disrespect. I understand that none of them want to believe that their beloved town holds secrets, but sooner or later, they’re all going to have to face the music. None of what’s happened since their fire season began makes sense. I’m just hoping that someone starts to agree with me before it ends up being too late.
Irritated, I leave the market and head back to the inn, dropping off the food. Mary and Emmett thank me before I leave again, hopping into my car to drive across town to the library.
I don’t bother stopping at the café. I’m sure I’ll make my way there at some point, but after that interaction, I don’t want to give them more of my business today.
It isn’t long before I pull up in front of the Ember Grove Library, one of the oldest buildings in the town, next to the fire station and town hall. It’s a small, red brick building with windows all over. It looks like it’s had some updates over the years, as expected, but it still holds the original feel that old buildings tend to have.
When I enter, I let out a content sigh, smiling as the smell of books and paper overwhelms me. I’ve never felt more at home than I do within the walls of a library.
The librarian at the front counter eyes me, so I give her a friendly smile and quick hello before heading toward the archives. The archives are accessible by the public, but they can’t be checked out like books, so I find what I’m looking for and set up shop at one of the nearby tables.
The first thing I do is open my laptop and navigate to my email. I reached out to a few fire investigators on my first night here to see if they could provide me with more information, but I still haven’theard back from any of them, much to my disappointment.
I know EGFD isn’t the only department that’s busy fighting fires right now, and the nearest fire investigators are based out of Kelowna. Their priority isn’t getting back to a random investigator with no credibility, but the lack of response is still frustrating. Especially since I know they’ve been in the area to visit the scenes of the fires.
On a head shake, I close my email, then move to the document I’ve started outlining all my research in. One thing I’ve learned so far is that it’s easy for wildfire causes to get swept under the rug because nine times out of ten, the cause is the same—especially in a town like Ember Grove. Even worse, without concrete evidence, wildfire arson is rarely assumed because many of the well-known arson indicators can occur naturally in wooded areas.
But I’m not willing to turn a blind eye until I’m positive these fires are what everyone believes them to be. Maybe I’m overthinking things—desperate to redeem myself and save my career that’s hanging on by a thread. But if there’s even the smallest chance I’m right, I’ll stop at nothing to prove it.
Letting out a sigh, I continue my research.
The archives provide a deeper history and also outline every fire EGFD has fought in their jurisdiction. As it turns out, the area that is now known as Ember Grove was unincorporated until the fifties. After a wildfire burned over 700 hectares of land in this area in 1952, they decided to build the new, incorporated town I currently reside in—hence how Ember Grove got its name.
Building a fire department was one of their first priorities once the town was developed, and in the 73 years since its inception, EGFD has fought six hundred wildfires and around a thousand structural fires in their jurisdiction. The largest wildfire they’ve seen was just under 200 hectares, and that was shortly after Ember Grove came to be.
They’ve gotten good at preparing for the fires and taking steps to make sure when they do pop up, they stay small. They direct most of their annual budget toward protecting the surrounding forests, educating civilians on how to avoid starting a wildfire,and preparing for them by building fire lines in hazardous areas, clearing dry debris, and setting clear guidelines for open burning.
It’s worked. The last wildfire that grew larger than 12 hectares was over thirty years ago, so whatever preventative steps they’ve taken have proven effective until now.
But something tells me that if they aren’t careful, this year is going to give them a run for their money.
