Fire at Sunset: The Firefighters of Darling Bay 4 Page 2

  “Fancy! You got a foreman! Is it a dude ranch? Can I come out and ride?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Just like Tox, Hank seemed curiously friendly.

  And Caz was tired of avoiding the question. “I don’t like people very much.”

  “Firefighters? Citizens? Men? Women? All people?”

  Caz slid the pre-chopped onions into the pot and turned the heat to high. “Pretty much all of ’em.”

  “Yeah, see, I don’t believe that.”

  “You should.”

  “Nah,” said Hank. “I talked to your field training officer, Bert.”

  Caz’s FTO at Los Robles FD had been a man who never, ever, ever shut up. “Huh.”

  “Yeah. And he said that when it comes to patient care, you’re right up there with the best he’s seen.”

  Caz just added more cayenne. Maybe he could burn his new coworkers’ chit-chat buds right off.

  “And what I think is that goes directly against what I’ve seen from you in this house. You don’t talk, you don’t smile, you don’t laugh. But Bert says you make people feel safe. And that’s not a thing that someone who doesn’t like people does.” Hank paused as if he thought Caz might say something. When he didn’t speak, Hank went on, “So that makes me feel better, at least, because you’re kind of acting like a tool around here. I’m willing to put that down to nerves.”

  That’s not what it was. Not at all. Caz added a healthy dose of cumin to the pot.

  “Do you even want to be here?” Hank’s voice was tighter now.

  “I do.” That was the simplest answer to a complex question.

  “Did you like your last department?”

  “Not really.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  Caz sighed. “I didn’t get along with staff.”

  “Surprise, surprise. Do you like it here better, so far?”

  “No.” Especially not if he was going to have to put up with Bonnie Maddern as a partner for the next year. How was he supposed to ignore someone as pretty and pushy as she was? But what could he do? It seemed like the woman could talk the hind leg off a donkey, and probably would if given half a chance. It didn’t help that she was so dang pretty sometimes he forgot to mind that she was talking. Her short blond bob was always a little uneven, as if she’d woken up and just run her fingers through it to smooth it—yeah, her hair bothered Caz, mostly because he found his fingers itching to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

  He hadn’t d taken the Darling Bay job in order to meet a woman, though.

  Paying for his father’s care was why Caz had applied for and accepted the higher-paying job, even as far away from his cabin as it was.

  Caz knew himself. He could put up with just about anything. They could pair him up with Tox (talk about someone who never shut up) or make him clean the bathrooms every day. He was the FNG, after all, the freaking new guy. Caz just wanted to come to work, do his job, collect his paycheck, and go home. That surely couldn’t be too much to ask.

  Hank laughed. “So you seriously don’t like being here? Jeez. Why stay then?”

  “Because I think it’s a good department. I think I can learn to like it. Or at least tolerate it.”

  “You always this dang honest?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not just stay on your ranch and raise horses?”

  “Not enough money in it.” That was the sad truth. For Dad’s full-time care, Caz needed a full-time job. That was the bitter catch-22.

  Hank’s eyes were bright. He was enjoying this give and take, even if Caz wasn’t. “Do you like horses, at least?”

  “Not really.” Caz was a woodworker, not a horse man. But where did these guys get the idea that you got to like what you did for a living?

  “You are a cranky sum-gun, ain’tcha?”

  “I’ve heard that on occasion, too.”

  Hank rapped his empty plastic cup against the counter firmly. “Well. I’ll let you alone, then.”

  Finally.

  “But I gotta say one thing. There’re good men in this department. Good women, too, just outnumbered. You got one riding in your ambulance with you. There’s no reason you can’t make friends here. But you gotta want to.”

  Caz knew that. He turned up the heat again and poked the meat with a wooden spoon.

  He heard the kitchen door swing shut behind Hank. Alone again.

  Good.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The nice thing about the women’s bathroom at Station One, the thing that the men’s didn’t have, was a glazed window in the shower. It was always closed for safety, of course. You wouldn’t want a random drunk citizen hauling himself in and roaming the station halls in the middle of the night. But when Bonnie was in the shower, there was no harm in her sliding the window open. Like a dog propping a chin on a car windowsill, Bonnie rested her chin on the tiled ledge, resting her eyes on the long swathe of green grass behind the station. It was marred a little by the big concrete driveway that ran through the apparatus bay, but that was a necessary evil. On the other side of the drive was a stand of eucalyptus trees that went right down to the creek that was still rushing with the March rains. Around dinner time, the frogs who lived on its banks started their deafening chorus. The wild California poppies that dotted their edges of the station lawn had shut for the night even though twilight hadn’t fully settled.

  It was her favorite time of night. And this was her favorite thing to do—to stand in the hot shower, watching the quiet riverbank. At any moment, the tones could go off in the station, and four minutes later—still damp under her hastily-thrown-on uniform—she might be on the road, bouncing up and down in the tech seat, racing for whatever disaster (or stubbed toe) had prompted one of the Darling Bay citizens to dial 911. But the tones stayed blessedly quiet. The frogs chirruped. A soft breeze sighed in the tall eucalyptus, and Bonnie, her body and hair newly sewage-free, closed her eyes in happiness.

  This was, truly, the life. She couldn’t be any luckier. She heard her mother’s voice in her head, “Everything is good when you look at it from the right direction.” Heck, even getting doused by disgusting toilet water meant that she got to hang out in the shower at a time when she wasn’t keeping any of the other women in the station from taking theirs. All the other women in the station, of course, were dispatchers, since Bonnie was the only female firefighter on A shift. The dispatchers tended to take their showers as soon as they woke up in the morning, and since their hours were more tightly scheduled, Bonnie tried to stay out of their way as much as possible.

  The water beating against her back was gloriously hot. She redirected it so that it hit more of her as she turned so she could rest her cheek against the window’s ledge. The cool air of the spring night blew on the crown of her wet hair. She kept her eyes closed and sighed in pleasure.

  The breeze got stronger. Huh. Warmer, too. She waited for the evening air to shift, but instead, she smelled mint.

  Mint gum. Spearmint, to be exact. Like someone was standing outside blowing on her head.

  She opened her eyes and jerked her head upright, but she didn’t quite avoid the light slap aimed at her cheek. Tox, standing outside in the flower border, roared with laughter. She slammed the window shut and yelled through it, “You jacknut! I could have died! I could have slipped and died and then you’d be back on the ambulance and you’d be so sorry!”

  Bonnie heard more male laughter join Tox’s. She sighed. At least there was no way he could have peeked in downward. The worst he’d seen was the top of her wet head. Good thing, too. If he’d seen more, Bonnie would have cheerfully called his girlfriend Grace from the day room so everyone could listen, and she would have taken great pleasure in telling Grace what her big dumb captain boyfriend had done. Bonnie pulled down her towel and dried herself.

  Idiot boys. It was like living with eight big brothers.

  She pulled on her uniform roughly, not caring the backs of her knees and spine weren’t totally
dry. Speed was important while getting dressed at the station. She’d been tempting fate wasting time in the shower anyway.

  The six o’clock tone buzzed overhead, and over the intercom, Tox yelled, “Dinner! Dinner time.”

  Bonnie checked with dispatch before going down to the kitchen. Only Lexie was working, Sue must have already been in the dorm on her sleep shift. “You eating with us tonight?”

  Lexie looked over her computer screen, her red curls crazily piled on her head, her smile bright. “Nope! I’m good!”

  “Dang, you’re cheerful. What’s up with you?” Bonnie tapped the tiny firefighter wind chime that dangled next to Lexie’s terminal, making it tinkle softly.

  “Um…”

  From the floor behind Lexie’s terminal, Coin Keefe said, “Hiya.” He was lying on the floor on his back, next to Lexie’s chair.

  “Holy—” What had she interrupted? “Get a room, you two!”

  “It’s not what it looks like,” said Coin.

  Bonnie looked at Lexie for an answer, but she was giggling too hard to answer.

  Slowly, Coin sat up. “You know I got that neck pain.” He pointed to the pillow he’d been lying on. It was covered with tiny plastic spikes.

  “Oh, no,” said Bonnie, backing up, her hands in front of her. “Seriously. If that’s some kind of kink, I so don’t need to know. At all. Private lives should be kept that way…”

  Lexie laughed harder and then finally choked out, “It’s an acupressure pillow. Grace gave it to me when my neck was bothering me, and it’s been helping Coin. He just didn’t want y’all down the hall to know.”

  Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “So that’s the only reason he’s hiding out of sight behind your work station?”

  Blushing, Lexie nodded. Coin, never the most outgoing of Bonnie’s shift mates, said, “And that’s my cute. Dang. I mean my cue…” He hurriedly dropped a kiss on Lexie head and raced out of dispatch.

  Lexie, finally bringing herself under control, said, “He’s ridiculous. I have no idea why I put up with him.”

  Bonnie sank into a chair. “You’re crazy about him.”

  Lexie ducked her head. “Anyway. What’s up? Why aren’t you eating?”

  “I’m going to. Wanted to see if you wanted anything.”

  “Nah.” Lexie waved a hand at a plate of rice and beans on her terminal. “I’ve been picking at this for hours. I’m fine.”

  “Cold food isn’t the same as fresh, warm stuff.”

  “Dispatchers are used to cold food.” 911 rang. Lexie reached for the button and said, “Speaking of which…” While she questioned the caller over her headset, she dispatched Engine Three and Medic Five using her foot pedal.

  “No, ma’am, don’t slap him on the back. That could push the marble farther into his windpipe. Just keep him still.” She gave a kind laugh. “I know, it’s hard with a three-year-old to keep him from climbing around. I know you’re doing a great job. I’ll just keep you on the line till the first unit pulls up, okay? You let me know when you hear the siren.”

  Without asking, Bonnie picked up Lexie’s plate, added a sprinkle more of cheese on top, and zapped it in the microwave. By the time the engine was on scene and Lexie had hung up, her food was warm again.

  “You didn’t need to do that.”

  “I know,” said Bonnie. “But you’re just so stuck in this cage.”

  “Hey, I like my cage. It fits me.”

  Bonnie rubbed the edge of the round table. It was slightly sticky, and that, unlike Lexie’s food temperature, was none of her business. She had to spend enough time cleaning the kitchen and day room with the rest of the guys—she didn’t need to clean in here, too. “Your cage doesn’t get to roll lights-and-sirens to anything.”

  “My cage doesn’t need to be mopped down for blood.”

  Bonnie pointed at the stickiness on the table. “For germs, though.”

  “Dang it,” said Lexie. “I told Sue she had to clean up after using her dang pressure cooker, but she never listens.”

  The firehouse was a family. And it was a nice thing, of course. The camaraderie that automatically came with the job was something Bonnie loved. What most people didn’t know, though, was how dysfunctionally family-like firehouses could be. It wasn’t funny or cute when one captain refused to ever rinse a plate before sticking it in the rather mediocre dishwasher. When PeeWee left the house’s groceries on the counter for six hours because he didn’t “feel” like putting them in the fridge, and three of them got sick on the pork as a result, they weren’t grateful PeeWee was a fire brother. No, just like any other brother who screwed up, the firefighters had hated his guts for a good week. He’d had to clean the station bathrooms for a month in penance, and that was no small punishment.

  Lexie got out a wet wipe to scrub at the spot.

  “Later,” said Bonnie. “Eat your food, lady. Before you fall over from hunger.”

  Lexie patted her not-very-thin waistline. With her bright red hair and lips and her blue uniform, she looked a little like a pinup girl stuck in the wrong clothes. “Do I look like I’m suffering? If Coin and his daughter don’t quit making me those caramel turtle cookies, I’m going to need to get a new pair of uniform pants, stat.”

  “Yeah, I think Coin likes you just fine the way you are.”

  Lexie grinned and reached for her plate. “Yeah, I guess. He likes a girl with handles. And hey, I like the way he handles me. Oh, how did that last call go? Why did you have to return for cleanup if you didn’t even transport the patient?”

  Bonnie groaned. “It’s what’s-his-name’s fault.”

  “The new guy? Caz…” Lexie scrabbled for her Telestaff roster. “Caswell Lloyd, that’s it. I’ve only met him once. He’s your new partner, right?”

  Sighing, Bonnie said, “Yeah. Because he was too busy flirting with old Mrs. Simon, I had to deal with why she pushed her medical alert.”

  “Which was…”

  “Her toilet.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “She’s been getting pretty bad lately. I worked overtime the other day on C shift and I took a call from the alarm company. She pushed the button because she couldn’t get her beer open.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I sent one of the rounds guys instead of a full engine, but apparently she yelled at him after he dropped the beer—it was her only bottle— and he came back looking pretty pale. I felt kind of bad for him. So you had to, what? Plunge a backup?” Lexie snorted.

  “I wish. That’s how it started, but it turned out that while they were out in the living room yukking it up, I might have been a little too…emphatic in my plunging.”

  “Mmm?” Lexie folded in her lips and her eyes danced.

  “I yanked the whole thing off its seal because of the slant of her old crooked floor, and the whole thing tipped over. It crashed.”

  “As in broke?” Lexie covered her mouth.

  “As in shattered. I was covered in—”

  Lexie held up a hand. “I’m eating.”

  “You can eat through anything! I’ve seen you drink a milkshake while listening to a guy vomit in your ear.”

  “That’s different. That’s far away.” Lexie wrinkled her nose in Bonnie’s direction. “You, you’re closer. You were covered in…poop. And then you put cheese on my plate.”

  “I took a shower! A long one! New clothes!”

  “Hmmm.” Lexie appeared to be considering whether or not to let her stay. “I suppose…”

  Bonnie stood. “Fine, I have to eat dinner anyway.”

  “Wait, wait. What did you do?”

  “What could I do? That’s why we were out of service so long. I had to clean and disinfect her whole bathroom and remove the rubble. Then we went to the hardware store, where I bought her a new toilet.”

  “Your own money?”

  “Can you even imagine what Susie Costello would do if I turned it in for reimbursement? She’d deny it so fast s
he’d get a nosebleed.”

  Lexie laughed.

  Bonnie glared. “You’re not being very helpful for someone who says she’s in the helping business.”

  “You put it in? Yourself?”

  Straightening her shoulders, Bonnie nodded. “Turns out I’m good with plumbing. Even though I hate it. I even added one of those fancy new seat-warmer bidets.”

  “Holy crap. Pun intended.”

  Bonnie couldn’t help smiling. Mrs. Simon had really liked the idea of it, giving her a smile that had up till that point been reserved for Caz. And pleasing her had been the goal. If it kept Mrs. Simon from filing a complaint, then Bonnie didn’t mind the couple hundred bucks she’d dropped to do it.

  No, what she minded was the way Caz Lloyd had handled himself on the call. “So you’re saying you don’t know anything about the new guy?”

  Lexie shook her head. “Just that he lateraled in from a department up north. Los Robles, maybe? I can’t remember. People say he’s pretty quiet.”

  Not with Mrs. Simon, he hadn’t been. He’d been all charm, as if the old woman had tapped his side for maple syrup. But in the rig on the way to the hardware store, he’d just stared straight ahead as he drove. His only change of facial expression had been when he’d rolled down his window and the airflow wafted her stench over him. “Noxious,” he’d muttered.

  Bonnie had been too irritated to say anything at all.

  “Caz helped you install the toilet, though, didn’t he?” Lexie’s eyes sparkled.

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

  The dispatcher nodded. “Best story I’ve heard all day.”

  “No, he did not. And I hate him for it.” Any other of her coworkers would have been in the bathroom with her, manhandling the pipes and telling her she was doing it wrong but helping anyway. “What he did was sit in Mrs. Simon’s kitchen while she made him—and I’m not making this up—fresh peanut butter cookies. Meanwhile, I installed a new toilet, hooked up an electric bidet, and sanitized a room that was disgusting even before I dumped dirty toilet water all over it.”

  “Did you get a cookie?”

  Bonnie’s face burned. “I asked for one.”