Page 36 of Love Songs

I rushed a wide-eyed Dallas out of the building.

“Be careful,” he said, his voice tight.

“Always,” I said with a reassuring grin, fighting the urge to kiss him.

I spun and ran into the apparatus bay, quickly donning my turnout gear. I hopped into the passenger seat of the ladder truck and put my radio headset on while Whittaker got behind the wheel, fired up the engine, and flipped on the sirens. Jackson and Shepherd climbed into the back seats. Captain Burgess pulled out ahead of us in his command vehicle as two cars pulled into the lot at the same time. Three of our on-call volunteer firefighters spilled out of the vehicles and ran toward the engine truck. Seconds later, we were racing east toward Grafton with the second truck quickly following behind.

“So, it’s true then, Holly?” Shepherd asked from the backseat.

“Is what true?”

“That you’re dating Dallas Blade now.”

I turned in my seat to glare at him. “We already went over this.”

“It’s all over town.” Shepherd shrugged unapologetically. “And I didn’t miss the looks you two were throwing at each other back there.”

“Yeah,” Jackson chimed in, and I wish he hadn’t. “Plus, I heard from Mabel at the bistro who heard from Arnold at the hardware store who heard from Mrs. Jennings at the library that you’re an item. And Prescott over at the Lakeside Inn saw you guys looking all cuddly in the lounge.”

Cuddly? I sat forward in my seat and rolled my eyes.This town.

“We are not dating,” I grumbled.

The daydreamer part of me would happily date Dallas, but the realistic part of me knew he’d be leaving town the following day and chances of seeing him again, let alone developing any kind of relationship, were about as likely as me winning the lottery jackpot. Since I’d never once bought a ticket in my life, that put my chances at nil, zero, nada, zilch.

Whittaker snickered, but didn’t add to the conversation. I turned my attention to the communications coming over the radio from dispatch. We were headed to a five-alarm fire, which meant it had to be a big event if they were calling in crews from several stations.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins, sharpening my focus. Most of our calls were for minor incidents, which was a good thing. The best days at work were the quiet days, where everyone stayed healthy and in one piece. But the fires that called us out of our township were the worst. While all fires andcallouts had the potential for serious outcomes, these big ones enormously increased the risks from serious results to fatal.

Black smoke billowed into the air as we drew closer, and when a three-story apartment building came into view, fully engulfed, I saw fire engines and apparatus trucks from four other townships parked at odd angles, and first responders running in all directions. I spotted a truck from the Grantham station, where my little sister Juno worked out of.

We stopped on the street while Captain Burgess drove ahead and parked. We waited for him to confer with the incident commander and find out where they needed us.

I surveyed the scene while we waited, but didn’t see Juno anywhere among the responders already on the ground. She was a professional and knew what she was doing, but it still made me uneasy not knowing where she was.

“Whittaker,” the captain’s voice crackled over the radio. “Take the apparatus truck to the east corner of the building and get the ladder ready for extraction. There are still people inside.”

All four of us in the truck cursed in unison.

We pulled up next to Grantham’s fire engine and, like a perfectly synchronized Olympic swim team, began pulling out all the tools, equipment, and hoses that we’d need. Shepherd and Jackson ran to the back of the rig to set the jacking system to keep our truck stable with the ladder fully extended, while Whittaker hustled up the outrigger steps to the control panel.

I grabbed a handful of bright orange cones and dropped them around our apparatus to create a safety perimeter. When I dropped the last cone, I spotted Captain Baraldi from Grantham and even though I shouldn’t have, I stole a couple of seconds to rush over.

“Captain,” I called out. “Where’s Holliston?”

His gaze dropped to my name badge, and he grimaced.

“In there.” Baraldi lifted his chin, and I followed his line of sight.

My pulse quickened, and I swore under my breath. Nobody should be inside that building right now.

“No one else goes in,” Captain Baraldi warned.

Three firefighters staggered out of the building. Two were carrying young children who were coughing from smoke inhalation, but none of them were Juno. I raced forward without thinking.

“Where’s Holliston?” I shouted to be heard over the roar of the fire and shouts of the responders.

The guy not carrying anyone thumbed over his shoulder as he pulled off his breathing apparatus. “Up there. She turned back for another kid.”

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