Jessica Keller - The Fireman's Secret

“How well do you know Shelby?” The chief moved to the edge of his desk and scooted so he was sitting, which brought him very near to where Joel sat.

Relax. He commanded the muscles in his back and arms to ease. Focusing on Shelby helped, since she had nothing to do with the fire. “I knew her years ago. From when I lived here before. I was more friends with Caleb than with her, but she tagged along most of the time when we hung out...like an annoying little sister should.”

He chuckled as a memory pushed its way into his mind, one of Shelby trying to chase after Caleb, Miles and Joel as they tried to sneak out of youth group to go waterskiing. When they wouldn’t let her follow she went and tattled on them. The youth pastor made the boys clean the church’s bathrooms every Saturday for the next month.

“A lot can happen in fourteen years, son.” The tone in Chief Wheeler’s voice changed on the last word. It became softer, kinder.

It sounded a bit like forgiveness. Or was Joel hearing things through the filter of misguided hope?

Joel finally met the man’s eyes. “You’re right. That’s a lot of time. Life’s moved on for all of us, and I’m just glad for the chance to be back, however long that is. Chief, I’m not sure how much you remember about how I was as a teen—”

“Enough.” Wheeler grinned. The chief had been a regular fireman back then, and in a town where everyone knew everyone, Joel was aware that despite the buffer of fourteen years, some of his troubled past was still common knowledge in Goose Harbor.

“I’m not that kid anymore. I hope you know that.”

“I wouldn’t have hired you if I thought you were.” The chief tugged a manila folder from the stack on his desk. “Speaking of which, I wanted to talk to you about the employee information form I asked you to fill out.”

Joel gripped the armrest. Please don’t ask about Charlie. Charlie Greave had saved Joel’s life, let him live with his family while Joel pursued his training, and helped Joel land his first position in a firehouse. Charlie had been the only lasting father figure he’d ever known, but then Charlie had left, too. Although, Charlie had fought his illness bravely, he’d lost. Joel didn’t trust himself to talk about it.

Wheeler tugged a single piece of paper from the folder and handed it to Joel. “I think you forgot to list an emergency contact.”

“No. It’s all filled out.” Joel refused to glance at the page. He didn’t want to see the blank lines that he’d never be able to fill in. Name of spouse. Names and ages of children. He didn’t know the first thing about how to be a good boyfriend, husband or father. All he had to offer a girl was a bunch of baggage, and if Joel knew anything, it was that he was man enough to save a woman that sort of disappointment.

Chief Wheeler stood and paced to the window in his office that overlooked the shopping district in town. “Why haven’t you listed an emergency contact?”

“Because I don’t have one.” Why did his stomach feel as if he’d swallowed acid?

“No one?” The chief turned around to face him. “This isn’t your first department, so I’m not going to pretend you don’t know how dangerous our work can be. I do everything in my power to keep the people under my command safe. You understand that, don’t you?”

Joel nodded.

“But I can’t guarantee you won’t get hurt.” Wheeler crossed his arms over his barrel-sized chest. “Many a fireman has had to pay the ultimate price in order to save others.”

“I’m aware of the dangers, sir.” In fact, it was the whole reason Joel had become a firefighter six years ago. The job made his life matter. Finally.

Wheeler’s bushy orange eyebrows dove. “I thought I told you no more calling me sir.”

“You did. I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time understanding what you need from me.”

Wheeler dropped into the chair Shelby had vacated. “You’re telling me that if the worst should happen to you, there’s no one in the world you would want me to contact? Not one single person?”

Joel shuffled his feet. “Is that a problem?”

“No relations? No friends who might wish to be told?”

Joel tucked his hands into his coat pockets. “My mom overdosed about a year after she got released from prison the last time around, and she’s the only family member I knew of.” He shouldn’t have shared that. The chief didn’t need to know about his personal struggles. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. Why is this important to my paperwork?”

“I’m worried about you, Palermo. That’s what. Not having an emergency contact could make you a reckless firefighter. I can’t have you taking chances that’ll harm my other men. An attachment outside of the fire keeps you sane.”

The chief couldn’t be letting him go. Not after Joel moved his whole life up here. How long would his status as an orphan be held against him? Until he died? No, the chief had done a bang-up job reminding him no one would mourn Joel when his time came.

Joel sat up straighter. “You have my paperwork from my last station. At my last post I was recognized for—”

The chief held up his hand to stop Joel’s words. “I’ve read about your accolades and awards. You’re a member of a standby hotshot team. I’m not minimizing that at all. What I am saying, however, is that the rest of this department has strong ties to spouses, children, parents, longtime friends or extended family. When they’re in a burning building they can keep their cool and make decisions because in the back of their minds they’re reminded they have someone who needs them at home. It adds a layer of...weight to their work that keeps them from putting themselves and others in unnecessarily dangerous positions. You don’t have that.”

“Well, I’m not sure what you want me to do exactly. There’s still no one I can add to the line for emergency contacts. Not one person in the world would miss me if I was gone.” He tried to swallow, but his throat felt so tight. Dante was the only creature on earth that’d even miss him.

Chief Wheeler gripped Joel’s shoulder. “Want to know how you can fix this for me? Find something worth coming home to.”

* * *

Shelby ran her sleeve across her forehead. It might only have been the start of summer, but the temperature was already rising. And riding across town on two half-filled bike tires didn’t help, either. She’d yet to hear back from the mechanic about her car, but hopefully the old Volkswagen could be saved, because she wouldn’t be able to bike to all her dog-walking locations. While she was happy her small business had taken off in the past month, she didn’t love driving all over the county in order to make enough to pay rent. If only she could find a way to merge her love of animals with something that would keep her from having to commute from house to house.

Ida Ashby lived in a small cottage just to the right of the West Oaks Inn bed-and-breakfast. The cottage could have popped right off the page of a fairy tale.

She licked her lips, grabbed hold of the copper knocker and knocked.

“Well, now, come on in with you,” Ida’s soft, sweet voice called through one of the open windows.

Shelby eased open the door. “Hi, Ida.”

“Hi there, sweet thing. What brings you down my way?” Though she had been alone in her house, Ida wore a dress. Her hair was pulled back and her Mary Jane shoes shimmered below her crossed ankles.

“I hate to sound rude, but I came to ask you about some money.” Shelby fidgeted with her bag.

Ida set down her mug of tea and peered over her glasses. “You look a mite old to be selling cookies door to door, but if you are, I’ll take two boxes.”