“Cole said the shift starts at 8 A.M. I plan to be in early so I can store gear.”
“When there is a rollout you’ll ride with Bruce, Nate, and me in Engine 81. We’ve got room in the jump seat.”
Procedure was to roll an engine with a crew of three, then to go with a fourth man if only one engine was responding. It would be crowded on the back U-shaped bench if she was joining a complement of four guys. “I thought I’d be rolling with the captain.”
“With the number of calls we respond to he’s often moving from scene to scene. And while your stated purpose is to work with him, it’s going to take about one shift before the rest of the guys in the company know what you are really doing.”
He was right about that. Secrets never lasted very long among a company.
The last thing she wanted to talk about this morning was what she had seen that night, the state of the investigation, and what the upcoming week was going to be like. She tried to change the subject. “Besides chauffeur, do you have other plans for your day off?”
He glanced over at her. “Let’s go get a Christmas tree this afternoon for your bookstore.”
She was startled by the suggestion. “A Christmas tree.”
“Got a better idea?”
“Laundry. Paying bills. Packing for the shift.”
“Come on, Cassie.” His voice was touched with laughter. “You’d enjoy decorating a Christmas tree more.”
“I bet you believed in going out to play before you did your homework too.”
“Absolutely.”
She knew she was going to need help with the tree; she couldn’t move one by herself. Her plans had been to finish pricing books, decorate the front window, then move around furniture to make room for a tree. She could shift that around. “I might be able to find a couple hours if you would like to help haul a tree for me.”
“I’d like to help decorate it too.”
She smiled at that request. “Are you a tinsel fanatic?”
“Definitely, it’s one of my favorite memories from childhood. Life is full of serious people who grew up too soon. I’ve never been accused of being one of them.”
Jack pulled into the parking lot at the grade school where the church met on Sunday mornings.
“Would you like to come to church with me? You know Pastor Luke and his wife Linda. Cole and Bruce both come too. It’s a pretty casual crowd since most of the guys help set up the stage and sound and pack it away in the trailer after services each week.”
“Thanks, but no. Being a Christmas and Easter churchgoer isn’t my style. I’ll be back to pick you up after the services.”
She was disappointed by that but understood his reluctance. So many people felt unless they attended church regularly it was hypocritical to go. And while her church tried hard to make visitors feel welcome instead of the center of attention, it did happen.
An opportunity to share what she believed was in front of her, and she didn’t know how to make it comfortable for Jack to join her. Hearing the truth about Jesus challenged someone to consider what he believed, and it wasn’t always a comfortable experience. She could sympathize, but it was reality of the power inherent in the truth.
She stepped out of the car, then leaned down to look back in. “Jack, yes. I would like to get a Christmas tree this afternoon.”
His smile made it worth it. “Good. I’ll pick you up here at eleven. Tell Luke and Linda hi for me.”
“I’ll do that.”
Fourteen
Jack, that tree is huge,” Cassie said, trying not to sound too critical.
“I know. Isn’t it great?”
He was straining to hold the center trunk of the tree. He shook it and the branches that had been mashed by the fence the tree had been leaning against settled back into their original shape.
“It looks like a tree that needs to be on a diet. Stuff that falls inside these thick branches will disappear and never be seen again. The lights won’t show unless they are on the branch tips.”
“Have some faith. This tree will hold up for a month. Think about how great it will look with ropes of popcorn and layers of silver tinsel.”
Cassie had been trailing him around the nursery looking at Christmas trees for the last two hours. He was like a kid in a candy store, choosing one, only to go to the next one and decide it was even better.
“Spin it around. Let me see the full thing.” She sipped at the hot apple cider she held. The afternoon was perfect for this—crisp air and sunny blue skies. Leaves crunched under their feet as they walked around the nursery. There were hundreds of Christmas trees to consider, and the discussion around large or small, fat or thin, wide needle or slim had been debated on merits all afternoon.
Jack was a riot to walk around with.
“Admit it, Cassie. This is the one. You’ll have the best Christmas tree in Lincoln Hills.”
“Do you really think you can get that tree into Stephen’s truck?” He had borrowed his brother’s pickup for this adventure.
“Absolutely.”
“Along with about ten feet of pine roping, that gargantuan wreath, three poinsettias, and the musical door chime?”
His grin grew as she reeled off the list of items he had already talked her into. “I’ll even make sure there is room for you.”
It was a beautiful tree. She only had one reservation. “I don’t know if we can get it in the front door of the store.”
“Trust me.”
She gave him an easy smile. “Oh, I trust you. I’m just trying to decide if I want to jump off this particular cliff with you. It will take about a mile of popcorn rope to decorate it.” She was tempted to agree if only for the challenge of it.
The pressure of this morning had been replaced by a relaxing afternoon. She was enjoying Jack. So many men were like Cole, everything close to the vest. With Jack she didn’t have to wonder what he thought. She had seen everything from amusement to occasions of worry and anger. The best thing about him was his laughter was contagious.
Her left hand stiffened as the blisters had tightened. She had a headache from the restless night’s sleep. But the day had improved because of Jack’s company. And it looked like by the end of this day she was going to have spent most of it with him.
“This one?”
She looked at the tree best described as a monster. “This one.”
“Sit,” Jack ordered.
“I’m fine.”
“Cassie.”
She tugged over a stool, loath to admit he was right. She was tired enough the tangles in the strands of Christmas tree lights had already won, and she just didn’t want to admit it. Cassie pulled the entire mess onto her lap.
“I’ll finish them.”
She stubbornly shook her head. “I’ll get them,” she muttered. If only her stiff fingers would simply work. The string of lights were plugged in so that she could find and replace burned-out bulbs. It was a sea of red, green, blue, and white flashes every three seconds. When she tried to hold the strand of lights with her left hand to unscrew a bulb with her right, her left hand would spasm. Clenching her fingers was the equivalent of grasping a live wire. She was beginning to think there actually was a short in the light strand somewhere.
“Patience.”
“Patience isn’t the problem. I just need some wire cutters.”
Jack chuckled as he moved down from the step stool he was using, squeezed her shoulder briefly, and crossed over to the table to get another box of ornaments. He’d long ago finished stringing the lights at the top of the tree.
The tree took over the entire center of the bookstore.
The poor front doorway still showed its scars from where it had lost the fight. The tree won. It had literally been pushed inside, not that Cassie was allowed to help. Jack had called Stephen. She stood by and watched as the brothers wrestled it inside.
They tried placing it by the front window and found, as Cassie suspected, that there was no way to have the
tree there without blocking either the counter or the doorway. The guys ended up taking two chairs into the storage room, sliding the main table closer to the display of children’s books, and moving the history book display in order to give the tree enough space.
It had been worth it. The tree was going to be beautiful. After all this effort, that wasn’t optional. It was going to be beautiful, or it was going to be firewood.
The bulbs finally replaced, Cassie plugged the strand of lights into the end of the previous one on the tree and began working to place them.
Jack stepped back up on the step stool. “Do you want me to use all the glitter balls at the top?”
She glanced up at Jack. He was working from the top of the tree downward. His smile— She shook her head and glitter rained around her. “Now I know why you wanted to do the top branches.”
“You look cute wearing the glitter.”
What she probably looked like was a six-year-old who had gotten into the glitter sticks. She had to smile at that image. She leaned back on the stool to check his progress. “They look good up there near the room spotlight. Use all of them there.” She blew glitter off the back of her hand. “Besides, then they can shed on the tree rather than the floor.”
“You need packages under this tree.”
“The tree practically hugs the floor. No one could see packages under it.” It had already proven to be an effective black hole.
Currently somewhere under the tree were his kicked-off tennis shoes, what she was fairly sure had been an orange glow-in-the-dark superball seen briefly as it bounced past after falling out of Jack’s coat pocket, and a handful of French fries she dropped when she tripped over the extension cord to the train set.
“A Christmas tree needs packages.”
“I’m going to wrap the books I’ll use as my Christmas giveaways.” As she now had a twist tie held between her lips, she was forced to mumble her answer as she fought a blue light that didn’t want to stay where she placed it.
“Any comic books?”
She got the strand wedged into place and used the twist tie to secure it, triumphant that she had subdued another wayward light. “Sorry. If you want to enter the drawing you have to like to read.” A small black spider appeared again dangling and she batted it away with the back of her hand before picking up another tie. Jack and his toys…this one was smaller than the one he had offered at her apartment. He’d probably bought them in all sizes in one of those plastic eggs available from a gumball dispenser.
“How about a coloring book?”
She reached for more ties and conveniently clipped him on the back of his knees.
“I take it that was a no.”
“How did you ever pass the lieutenant’s exam if you don’t like to study?”
Jack laughed. “I’ve got a good memory and I’m a great talker.”
“I agree with the great talker part.”
“Just to satisfy my curiosity, where do you buy all these books?”
“Estate auctions. Garage sales.”
“You’re a Saturday sales junkie?”
“Don’t laugh.”
“I’m trying not to. Want company some time?” Jack offered.
“Will you carry the books for me?”
“As long as you don’t buy one for me to read.”
She shook her head at him as she smiled. “You’re impossible.”
“True. Cassie?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks for today. I’m enjoying it.”
The spider reappeared and she batted it away again. “I’d enjoy it more if you’d quit dangling your spider every time I turn around.”
“What?”
It dropped into her lap.
And rather than lie there, it moved.
She flung out her injured hand and slapped the spider away, sending it sailing across the room. The stool tipped. She would have landed in the tree had Jack not flung out a hand to stop her. Instead of getting a face full of pine needles, she fell backward and came close to hitting the back of her head on the table leg.
“Kill that thing,” she ordered.
Jack went after the spider scurrying away and stepped on it with his foot. Cassie winced, wishing she hadn’t seen that. Wearing shoes was one thing, socks was another.
“Did you hurt your hand?”
She was shaking it to take out the sting. “I caught it on the strand of lights.” Half of the bottom strand of lights she had just struggled to put in place were pulled free.
Jack strode back over. He set the stool upright for her.
She looked at it with disgust. “I think I’ll sit on the floor for a while. I need to fix the bottom row of lights.”
Jack obligingly sat down on the floor beside her. “Let me see your hand first.”
“It’s fine.”
“Cassie—let me see.”
There was an edge of lieutenant in his voice, and the command was hard to ignore. She held out her hand. Two blisters had broken on her thumb. She was ashamed at the mess her hand was in. The blisters lay over older scars that had turned smooth skin into stiff ridges. “I don’t need your pity.”
He looked up, his gaze holding hers. The seriousness never left his eyes but a smile appeared. He curled her fingers closed. “Battle scars don’t bother me.” He tugged at her buttoned shirt cuff. “Any of them. I’ve got a few of my own. In rather embarrassing places.”
He was doing it again, putting a line of humor under what was very serious. “Do you?” she asked, intrigued.
“I sat on a broken bottle once.”
“Sat?”
“Considering I was twelve at the time, sat is more appropriate than lost my balance and tumbled off a railroad tie to land on my tuckus.”
“Sat does sound better.”
He released her hand. “I’ll help with the lights.”
She hesitated, then offered him the twist ties. “I’m sorry I thought that was you dangling the spider.”
“My fault for having done it before.”
“Promise me you’ll never use a lifelike snake.”
Jack leaned his shoulder against hers. “Promise.”
And because he had been nice enough not to laugh at her overreaction to the spider, she leaned back, using his shoulder as a support, and dumped the now tangled Christmas lights into his lap. “Fix this, please.”
Jack warily picked up one end of the mess. “Interesting…”
“No, we are not going out to buy more lights.”
“I just thought it. I didn’t say it.”
“I’m a mind reader.”
“Do I get to help with the popcorn strands?”
“Are you any good with a needle?”
“I’ll learn.”
Cassie looked over at him, skeptical. “Buy yourself a box of Band-Aids. You’ll need them.”
“O ye of little faith.”
“One of us has to be practical.”
“What’s this?” He reached across her and plucked a coin from behind her ear.
“Jack.” She was amused by the simple magic.
He walked the gold coin between his fingers and offered it to her. “Your first Christmas gift.”
It was a gold foil-wrapped piece of chocolate. “I didn’t get you anything.”
She expected him to laugh and make a joke. Instead, he just smiled and picked up the Christmas lights.
He gave gifts. She fingered the piece of chocolate stamped as a coin. “Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks.” The word didn’t have enough impact to convey everything she was feeling, but she didn’t know what else to say.
“You’re cute when you’re at a loss for words.” He tugged over the box of decorations. “I’ll flip you for the right to put the angel on top of the tree.”
She sent the piece of chocolate spinning into the air. “Call it.”
“Heads.”
She caught it carefully. He leaned over to look. “I won.”
>
She turned over the coin. “It’s a two-headed coin.”
“Well, what do you know—”
Fifteen
Cole had said be early. Cassie was early. According to the clock on her car dash, which was known for its creative timekeeping when the weather was cold—and this Thursday morning certainly qualified—it was just after 6 A.M. She was back on shift work. Wide awake at five o’clock, the choice between killing time at home or going to work had been simple. She’d even rushed through breakfast; the old habit of rolling out of bed, grabbing gear, and heading to the station still was ingrained in her thinking.
Where to park had been a problem. She was missing a department sticker for the car bumper to use the official lot but ran a bigger risk of having her car towed if she parked in the visitors’ lot for the duration of the twenty-four-hour shift. She compromised by taking Cole’s parking place. There was a good chance he was driving the district vehicle and wouldn’t need the assigned parking space anyway. If he did…he could find her.
He would certainly know it was her car. Not only had he driven it from the fire scene for her, but he’d left a Post-it note on the rearview mirror suggesting she might want to rethink listening to Saules Trie at full volume. The local band was making a name for itself, and after months in the hospital she’d unwittingly become a fan because the FM radio station DJ was also a fan.
Cassie unlocked the trunk and shoved a box of books out of the way so she could get hold of her duffel bag. She’d bought it at the army surplus store because the canvas bag could easily be tossed into the wash.
She was starting to get nervous. She tugged the cuffs of her jacket down before picking up the duffel bag. The next twenty-four hours were going to be as tough as the day she had arrived at her first station assignment as a rookie.
She’d tried to brace herself for the reaction her presence would trigger. From the firefighters, she knew there would be an overeager effort to show the burns didn’t bother them. From those who had only heard about her, it would be an awkward fascination. Eventually they would work up the courage to ask her to tell them about what had happened.