“Let’s go.”
Mai gestured for Nicholas to follow her and she got into the fast attack vehicle. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” He could fake it. “What do you expect to see when we get there?”
“Foley’s farm is mostly sheep,” she said. “That means the paddocks won’t have a lot of fuel in them, which is good.” She sped up as she left town. “If we’re lucky the shed will be far enough away from any trees, so they don’t light up.”
“And if they do?”
“Let’s hope they don’t.” She pulled into a drive and raced along the bumpy ground.
Nicholas clung on to the hand hold above the door. She was so incredibly calm, while the jolts of the car were shaking up the nerves in his stomach, like a martini shaken not stirred.
A man on a motorbike waited near the farmhouse, and gestured for them to follow.
Mai smiled. “They’ve got all the gates open for us.”
“Don’t they always?”
She shook her head. “No. Sometimes they’re more worried about their livestock escaping than making it easy for us to access the fire.”
In the distance a dark cloud of smoke billowed up into the sky. They were heading right towards it. His hands shook and he pressed his palms onto his thighs. Heading into danger wasn’t something he was used to.
Smoke and flames poured out of the open side of the silver corrugated iron shed and the gaps between the roof and the walls. The paddock in front of it also burned. The low lake of flames was spreading quickly. A couple of men were already there using a homemade water tanker to hose down the paddock.
“What do we do?” Nicholas asked.
“We’re on spotter duty.” Mai drove over to one of the men. She wound down the window. “What’s in the shed, Foley?”
“Nothing but old bits and pieces.”
“I’m going to do a loop.”
The tanker pulled up and people jumped out getting the hoses ready. Mai drove down the fire edge towards the shed. “Keep an eye out for spot fires,” she said. “I want to scan the other side, see if there’s anything that will make it spread in the other direction.”
“Like what?”
“Old oil barrels for starters.” She snatched up the radio. “This is Blackbridge Fast Attack One. We’ve got chemicals back here. Ask Foley what they are, over.”
Around the back of the rusted shed were six plastic drums on a pallet, but they didn’t look all that old. He squinted. His chemistry was a little rusty, but if he was correct, they were full of hydrochloric acid.
“He says there shouldn’t be any,” came the response. “He’s heading over now.”
Mai parked. “Get the hose.”
Nicholas jumped out, his hands shaking as he did as she asked. The fire radiated out, a wall of heat, and the thick, black smoke smelled sharply of chemicals. He screwed up his nose and breathed through his mouth.
“Aim for the barrels.” Mai watched him carefully.
Don’t let him mess up. He sprayed the drums and steam clouded the wall of the shed.
Foley roared up on a motorcycle. He spoke to Mai, shaking his head, but Nicholas couldn’t hear them over the crackle of the fire and the engine.
Mai joined him as Foley departed. “He doesn’t know what they are.” She glanced over to the tanker that had already put out much of the paddock fire and now focused on the structure.
There was worry in her eyes. “Is the acid flammable?”
“No, but the ones at the back might be something else. There’s a chance they could go boom.”
Nicholas’s heart stopped for a split second. Should they evacuate? No, they couldn’t. They were the emergency team, the line of defence.
“We need to get this section of the shed doused first.” She went back to the vehicle and a minute later the tanker moved towards them. It moved far too slowly for Nicholas’s liking. Who the hell left random barrels of chemicals at the back of someone’s property?
Another brigade arrived.
“Move the vehicle over there,” Mai pointed, “and then inspect the area for spot fires. I’ll join you in a minute.” She strode over to where Lawrence spoke to the captain of the other brigade.
Was that her way of telling him he was doing something wrong?
He did as she asked, moving upwind far enough away from the shed that the heat wasn’t quite so bad and the smell was a little more tolerable.
The other fire-fighters wore breathing apparatus and worked together to put out the fire. And he was kicking through dirt to make sure no sparks ignited.
Not what he’d expected.
Mai strode over and handed him a drink from the esky in the vehicle. “You need to stay hydrated.” She didn’t wait for his response, just went back to the car, grabbed the radio from inside and clipped it on her jacket and then took the opposite side of the paddock to check.
Shit, should he have got the radio? He had a vague memory of something he’d learned at training but it wouldn’t stick.
Had he messed up again?
It was another two hours before the fire was out. Nicholas’s clothing was heavy and hot, and his legs ached. He slumped against the fast attack bonnet while Mai and Lawrence went to chat to Foley and the other brigade captain.
“We’re on watch duty,” Mai said when she returned.
Nicholas frowned. “Watch duty?” Did that mean he couldn’t go home yet?
“We need to keep an eye on the shed to make sure it doesn’t reignite,” she said. “It’ll only be for a couple of hours, but if you’ve got things to do, I can get one of the others to stay.”
Nicholas shook his head. “I can stay.”
“Great. We’ll make sure Lincoln doesn’t get into trouble when he gets out here. The shed’s not that stable.”
“Lincoln?”
“Foley’s calling the police because the barrels weren’t his.” She wrinkled her forehead and glanced back at the shed.
What else could they be for?
When the tankers and the farmers had left, Mai handed him another bottle of water. “How did you like your first real fire?”
“I didn’t do much.”
“Sure you did. You teamed with me to secure the perimeter.”
“Wandering around kicking dirt isn’t particularly important.” He winced at the sulk in his tone.
“It’s vital,” she said. “Everyone else is focused on the main fire, so if a new one sparks up they could get caught in the middle.” Her eyes flashed in annoyance.
Nicholas ducked his head. “I didn’t realise.”
“I gathered.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re not the first to believe you’ve been put in the naughty corner. Everyone wants the glamour of holding the hose – although maybe it’s a guy thing.”
He flushed. He’d behaved like a prat, let his insecurity get the best of him. “What do we do while we wait?”
“We rehydrate.” She sipped her water. “And we keep a look-out.” She took off her jacket and threw it into the car, then reattached the portable radio. Her hair was tied back in a pony-tail but she had loose strands over her face which she brushed back and tucked under her helmet. “Come on.”
He followed her over to the shed. The metal sides were bowed and the whole building steamed. The acrid stench filled his nostrils making him screw up his nose.
Mai stood at the entrance of the blackened shell. “All the beams will be weakened,” she said. “It’s swaying a little in the wind.”
“Will Foley knock it down?”
“He’ll have to, but not until Lincoln’s taken a look. I guess he’ll call in the arson investigators from Albany.”
“Why does he even have a shed out here?” It was nowhere near the farm house.
“It used to be a shearing shed,” Mai said. “Foley said he hasn’t used it since he built the one closer to the farm house a couple of years ago.”
“Odd place for a shed.”
Mai
shook her head. “Apparently there’s a road through there.” She pointed towards the bush. “It goes out onto the highway, but the way we came was quicker from Blackbridge. Kit’s farm is on the other side.”
Nicholas tried to get his bearings. He could have sworn they were nowhere near Kit’s place.
She continued walking around the structure, kicking at smoking dirt and scanning the area. Her competence and authority made him more confident. If it flared up, she’d know what to do. And that was kind of a turn on. He’d worked with plenty of women before, but none had given him the same buzz as Mai.
Every so often the blackened ground around him gave off little puffs of smoke so he examined them.
The silence between them was heavy, but what could he talk about – the development? That wasn’t a great topic of conversation. Not if she couldn’t find temporary accommodation for herself and the bakery.
And he knew nothing else about her, except she was a volunteer fire-fighter.
But he couldn’t help being intrigued by her. She was confident, feisty and kind. She looked as if she’d blow over in a strong wind and yet she lugged around trays of baked goods as if they weighed nothing, and held a fire hose as if it was a garden hose.
He wanted to get to know her.
No, he couldn’t. Mixing business with personal relationships was a quick path to hell. He had to ignore the pull to speak, to hold her hand, to be with her. They circled back to the ute.
“Blackbridge Police to Blackbridge Fast Attack One,” the radio blared.
Mai smiled. “This is Blackbridge Fast Attack One, go ahead, Slinky.”
“We’re on our way out now.”
“Roger that.”
Nicholas didn’t like the twinge of jealousy at Mai’s obvious affection for whoever was on the radio. “Slinky?”
She grinned. “It’s the musketeers’ nickname for Lincoln.”
Her grin was something else. It lit up her face and the wickedness sent a shot of lust to his groin. He had it bad for her.
He turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction.
He needed the distance.
Chapter 6
The crackle of burnt grass signalled Nicholas walking away and Mai breathed a sigh of relief. He looked damned fine in the uniform, the pants sitting nicely on his hips and the tight white T-shirt showing off his broad chest. Even his petty concerns about not being allowed into the thick of things didn’t put her off. She’d heard similar comments too many times to be fazed by them.
She swallowed. There was nothing to gain from lusting after him.
Not when he was tearing down her home.
But he had impressed her today. He’d learned quickly and followed her instructions, and that was important. If she couldn’t trust the people she worked with, she wouldn’t be able to do her job effectively.
Which she should be doing now instead of staring after Nicholas like a fool.
She circled the shed in the opposite direction to Nicholas to make sure the paddock was clear of embers. The ground and building were still radiating heat, but the sea breeze had kicked in giving a breath of somewhat cooler and much fresher air.
She wandered over to the chemical containers that had given them all cause for concern. The dozen or so plastic containers had melted into a large deformed lump.
They must have been empty.
What were they doing there? Foley had seemed disturbed to see them. Something weird was going on.
She turned as the sounds of an engine reached her, and spotted the police car. When it pulled up, Lincoln, Ryan and Foley got out.
Foley knew where to go and what not to touch, but Mai kept an eye on them as she continued her rounds. Their voices carried in the breeze.
“Are you sure none of your farmhands would store stuff here?” Lincoln asked Foley.
“Mate, I know how chemicals are meant to be stored and it’s not like this. I don’t need pure acid on the farm.”
“We definitely need to call Albany.” Lincoln walked past Mai to get to the squad car, giving her a pointed look. She shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but if Lincoln was calling in backup, then there was definitely more to those barrels.
Hannah had had some drain cleaner stolen from the holiday park last month. Maybe it was related, but surely Lincoln wouldn’t need to call Albany for a simple theft.
“What’s wrong?”
She jumped at Nicholas’s voice. He was right next to her, his sexy presence distracting her. “Lincoln’s calling in Albany,” she said. “He only does that when it’s serious.”
“Think it’s drug-related?”
Mai froze. “What makes you say that?”
“I, ah, saw a documentary on meth amphetamine recently and it mentioned meth was made with large quantities of chemicals – brake fluid, drain cleaner, acids and stuff.”
Could Gordon be making his own supply? But why store the chemicals all the way out here?
Maybe it was the creepy guy she’d seen him with.
She shook her head. Talk about paranoia. She had no idea what Gordon and the creepy guy had been discussing – he might have been offering Gordon a job.
Still her skin felt tight. If she mentioned it to Lincoln now, he’d tell her off for not telling him sooner and she was too tired to deal with that today. She’d call him tomorrow.
Walking back to the fast attack vehicle, she slid into the passenger seat with a sigh.
Her shorter than usual midday nap was wearing on her. The sun had sunk below the tree line, which shaded them from its harsh glare, but it would still be a couple of hours before dark. They should be finished long before then.
“Are you all right?” Nicholas asked.
“Just tired.” She rubbed her hands over her face and dumped her helmet on the seat beside her.
“What time did you get up this morning?”
“I started work at one.”
“And I interrupted your siesta. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.” Or had been when she’d been the only baker.
“How much longer do we need to stay out here?”
She checked the time. “About ten minutes as long as nothing flares up. Do you want to double check everything is stowed?” She already had, but it would be good practice for him and meant he wasn’t standing less than a metre away from her, looking refreshingly dishevelled with his mussed up hair and light film of sweat on his body.
Mai closed her eyes.
Lincoln wandered over. “Ryan and I are going to stay here until the Albany detectives arrive.”
“How long will that be?”
“At least an hour.”
“Need me to send someone out with pizza?” she asked.
He chuckled. “You do not need to feed the world, Mai. We’ll be fine, but thanks for the offer.”
Mai couldn’t help it. It was why she loved baking. Her grandmother had taught her to always make sure there was food on the table.
“Are you good to go?” Lincoln asked as Nicholas came back.
“Yeah, we’re done here,” she said.
“I’ll drive,” Nicholas said. “You look dead on your feet.”
She scowled. “I’m fine.” This was nothing compared to what she’d endured in the early days of her bakery, but he could drive if it made him feel better. She said her goodbyes and then settled back in the seat and closed her eyes.
They bumped through the paddock and Nicholas was silent until they reached the bitumen road. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Do you want to get something to eat on the way home?”
Was he asking her out? She clamped down on the little thrill. She wanted to work out her negotiation strategy before she spent any more time with him. It needed to be resolved before things went any further. “Not tonight. I’m going straight to bed.”
She shouldn’t have said that. Now she had images of Nicholas in bed with her.
Not a g
reat idea – at least not yet.
But after the contract was signed was another thing entirely.
Nicholas hung up from his father and gasped for breath as the familiar panic flooded him. It wasn’t possible to have a conversation with him without feeling like he was a failure. He lurched out of his father’s leather office chair as the anxiety gripped him in its clutches. He couldn’t work in here anymore. It was too much his father’s space, large commanding desk, harsh leather furniture and the masculinity dialled up to eleven. The room reminded him of how far he’d fallen.
He grabbed his laptop and the plans and stumbled into the kitchen, dumping them on the table and sinking into one of the chairs. He focused on breathing slowly, counting back from twenty, and the panic receded until he could breathe normally again.
He couldn’t keep living like this.
His anxiety was unmanageable.
He had to do something about it, had to get back to a life where he didn’t second-guess everything he did, where he wasn’t afraid to make the big decisions.
How had one event turned him into such a mess?
A photo across the room caught his eye. Shadbolt’s very first development. His father stood out the front with Nicholas – all of six – on his shoulders. Both were beaming.
He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t expected to take over the company. Couldn’t ever remember questioning the assumption. But he also couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed going to work. It was all paperwork and figures, playing hardball with contractors and arguing over minor contract issues.
He closed his eyes, thought back.
There was one summer, back during university when he’d worked for Jameson Construction. It had been a Shadbolt development and he and Shane were in training even then to take over their respective companies from their fathers. He’d loved building something with his own hands, feeling as if he’d actually achieved something. Being literally hands-on had given him a sense of satisfaction that pushing paper never had, whereas Shane much preferred to be in the air-conditioned office overseeing the details.
And look where it had led.
With accusations of arson, fraud and his friend in a rehab facility.
He shook his head. Plenty of people didn’t like their work, and at least he was paid well for his.
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