Page 1 of Hearts to Mend

CHAPTER 1

DEE

* * *

“When you gonna propose, Cat Man?” Rooster crows at Drew as he scrubs the grill of Engine 31.

It’s our weekly Big Truck shift at the fire station, when we clean and maintain the apparatus. This week we’re getting the truck extra clean for the local first graders, who are taking a tour of the firehouse tomorrow. And Rooster, being Rooster, likes to liven up our long shifts by nagging Drew.

Drew rolls his eyes as he grumbles, “Dude, let me finish building the house before you sign me up for a new project.”

“Marriage isn’t a project, dude. It’s a privilege and a lifelong commitment. Maybe it’s the commitment that’s got you running scared.” Rooster pokes the bear, and I have to bite my lips together to keep from cackling.

“I’m not running anywhere.” Drew sounds like he’s complaining, but he’s got a dumb grin on his pretty-boy face.

Our Cat Man is a smitten kitten for Chloe. But who wouldn’t be? She’s a sweetheart and gorgeous. Drew was a goner from day one. Then her house burned down—with her and their cats still in it—and Drew’s priorities got real clear real fast. Priority numero uno: Chloe. Now they’re building a new house on the land where Chloe’s family farm once stood.

Drew continues defending himself. “I’m not afraid of commitment, not with Chloe. But a wedding is a huge project. I need to pace myself.”

I take the bait he’s reeled out for us. “I heard Al at the hardware store has eyes for your girl. Be careful you don’t wait too long—he might swoop in and steal her heart.”

Drew shakes his head and laughs as he scrubs the windshield. “Al is eighty-two years old. And he’s deeply in love with Inez Rodriguez.”

“All’s we’re saying is—”

Right on cue, Rooster hits the sound on his phone, and the little speaker we brought in this morning starts blasting Beyonce’s classic Single Ladies. The two of us jump off the rig and sync right into a flawless execution of the dance from the video—or as flawless as two firefighters with four left feet and only a week of practice can muster.

A few of the neighborhood dog walkers stop to watch the show as we squat, twist, and shimmy on the driveway in front of the firehouse.

Watts comes out of the station carrying the agenda for our shift and frowns, but only for a moment before he starts doing the wrist flip put-a-ring-on-it move with us.

Drew howls with laughter as he hoses the hood of the engine then turns the water on us. Only Watts manages to escape without getting sprayed.

As we shake off the water, Watts, easily able to guess the reason for our song choice, offers his own bit of wisdom to Drew. “Don’t let these two pressure you. Don’t pop that question until you know it’s right.”

“For fuck’s sake, I know it’s right. Chloe is it for me, but can you all just wait for me to finish building her damn dream house before you have me making every other major life move?”

“Sure, we can lay off.” I relent… Sort of. The guy is like my kid brother. I can’t help but smother him with big-sister advice. “But, Drew, life doesn’t come at you in order. You don’t get everything in a nice, neat to-do list with items you can check off one by one. Don’t put off important shit because you have other important shit to do.”

“Wise woman.” Watts points at me. “Listen to Dee, Catman. She gets it.”

Thinking of my own love life—or rather the lack thereof—doesn’t make me feel so wise. In my adult life, I’ve missed every cue, every opportunity, every major life event, still stuck nursing a broken heart. I’d wanted to get married, right in the middle of everything, but the love of my life said no. He wanted “to live a little” first. He wanted to take things in order. So instead of marrying me, he went off to war and broke my heart from half a world away.

Watts bestows his fatherly advice to Drew. “You know, my daughter came just six months after our wedding, just three months after we bought the house. Everything hit at once for us, and it was a lot to handle, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”

My heart squeezes at the thought of Watts’s lovely family. If I had his life, I wouldn’t change a thing either. But a lovely family life isn’t in the cards for me, apparently, and there’s no use dwelling, right?

I tuck all those memories and icky feelings away—not in the mood for them today. The sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the truck is sparkling, and life is good. I’m a badass woman with a killer bod and the wit to match. While I doubt I’ll ever find a storybook love like I used to know, there are plenty of other kinds of happiness.

Doris the dispatcher’s voice comes over the loudspeaker in the station. “Engine 31 and Medic 12, respond to injured child, Navarro Elementary School playground.”

Well, that’s certainly not happiness. But it has us moving. We grab our gear, jump in the engine, and race to the school.

* * *

Navarro Elementary School is close to the station. But that’s not saying much. Everything is close to everything in a town the size of Krause. It takes us under five minutes to arrive on scene.

The playground, normally a cacophony of happy children, is eerily quiet now. In hushed voices, teachers try to corral curious children, but they’re ignored. Everyone’s attention is riveted to the monkey bars at the center of the playground, where Anne Griffin, one of the first-grade teachers, sits cross-legged on the ground cradling a little boy in her arms.

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