Close To The Fire

by Suzanne Ferrell

  She wished he wouldn’t litter the sidewalk with the butt. She’d always been proud of how clean Westen was, but she wasn’t going to sound like some old prude by saying anything. Instead she glanced back down the road where Deke’s taillights turned off the main road and onto the State road toward Amish country. “There’s a fire out on one of the Amish farms.”

  “Really?” Sean asked, coming to stand near her. “How far out?”

  “It’s the Zimmer farm, northeast of here about five miles or so.”

  “Damn. I’d love to go out and get the lowdown, but haven’t memorized the roads yet.”

  Libby shook her head. “That’s not going to do you much good anyways.”

  “Why not?” He looked down at her, curiosity in his grey-green eyes.

  “Once you turn off the State road on to the township road, you still have to find the right farm road, which are usually gravel and in the Amish farm areas aren’t marked very well.”

  “I figure I’ll just follow the bright flames in the night sky.”

  Libby shook her head. “I don’t know how high the flames might get, but that area has ancient forests with some massively tall trees. You might drive in circles trying to find it.”

  “Great. Biggest story since I got here and I’ll get lost trying to get there.”

  Libby glanced back down the road where Deke had driven just moments before. Maybe she’d be less scared if she saw him and knew he was all right. “I could take you,” she said, looking back at Sean.

  “How about you let me drive and you give me directions?”

  “I don’t know,” she hesitated. After all, she hardly knew the guy.

  “Look, I’ll never remember if you do the driving. But if I do, I can get back out there in daylight if I have to do any follow up with the farmers about the fire. I’m a tactical learner.” He gave her a hopeful smile and she couldn’t help but relax.

  “Okay.”

  “Great! Let me get my laptop and car. I’ll be right back.”

  As he took off at a jog across the street, she pulled her purse back out of the front seat and locked the doors. A truck went flying past and she caught a glimpse of Doc Clint and Emma in the front seat. A moment later, Lorna’s catering truck pulled out from behind the café. Just like last spring when Gage had been trapped in the meth lab tunnels, the town would gather around to help the firemen and any injured people out at the farm. It was one of the things she loved about Westen. The people were so willing to help each other, no matter their differences.

  “You ready?” Sean asked as he pulled his SUV up beside where she stood.

  Her fear for Deke and concern for the farmers she visited regularly out that way propelled her around the front of the vehicle and she climbed into the passenger seat. “We’ll try to get close, but we can’t interfere with the firefighters.”

  “I understand. I’ll be sure to park on the periphery,” he said, heading down Main towards the light, then turning right, following the same route Deke had taken. “Thanks for being my navigator. You won’t regret it.”

  The image of Deke’s face filled her mind. She hoped not.

  * * * * *

  Flames lit up the night sky as Deke pulled up to the fire area. The tanker truck and the quint—a large truck capable of not only breeching tall buildings with its ladders, but storing its own water or pumping water from the tanker truck—arrived on the scene right behind him. Given that there were no fire hydrants in this rural location, they’d need the extra water from both trucks.

  The smell of burning wood and debris wafted into the summer night, reminding him for a moment of the bonfires they’d light every fall for homecoming. Shaking off the odd reminiscence, he grabbed his gear from the bed of his pickup and quickly shucked his shoes. He stepped into his pants and boots—the combo already together for just such an emergency—quickly donned his coat and grabbed his helmet, then headed to where his men and the county fire volunteers were gathering.

  Ahead of them they could see the farmers doing an old-fashioned bucket brigade into a century-old hand-pump wagon, which they were using to pump water onto the fire. It would take at least ten more such devices and as twice as many more men to cover what looked like several acres on fire. He needed to get his crew and equipment busy to control the fire before it covered much more ground.

  “Aaron,” he yelled to the young man climbing off the side of the quint. “Let’s get some hoses out there and get those farmers some help. One on each side and two in the middle.”

  “Yes, sir, Chief,” Aaron Turnbill said, opening up the side where the hoses were stored and handing several off to the other volunteers.

  Deke and John Wilson, the quint driver, attached the hoses to the quint’s pumping system while Cleetus helped haul the hoses past the water wagon. Like all the other county deputies, Cleetus had joined the volunteer department and attended their regular training sessions. Now all that training would come into play and hopefully keep them all safe.

  Once the hoses were securely fastened to the quint, John started flipping switches, and water surged through the huge lines which uncoiled like huge jerking snakes. It took several men on the end of each to control them and direct the flow towards the fire. As the trained firemen moved beyond the Amish brigade the farmers shifted their equipment out of the way, but continued to pump water on the surrounding area, hoping to keep the fire from spreading. One tall shadow left the group of farmers and slowly approached Deke.

  “Good to see you, Deacon,” Thomas Yoder said. His face was covered in soot, his shirt stuck to him from all the perspiration caused by the heat. He wiped his hand on one cotton pant leg before offering it to Deke.

  Deke shook it. “I’d hoped we wouldn’t have to meet out here again so soon, Tom.”

  “Ja. I did too. But the alarms, they worked well. You are here now.” He looked beyond Deke’s shoulder. “And here’s the sheriff.”

  “Tom,” Gage said coming up behind, Bobby by his side, both dressed in firefighter gear. “Any idea how this started?”

  The Amish elder shook his head. “Jacob Zimmer—this farm is his—said the field had been cleared of dry hay weeks ago. Very little debris was left, so a hay fire is highly unlikely. I think.”

  Deke nodded.

  One of the first things he’d learned about having a fire department in a rural setting was how easy barn fires could happen in barns stocked with hay bales. If the hay wasn’t dried completely before being baled, microbes could grow inside them. The growth of these organisms gave off heat, which in turn heated the internal temperature of the hay. If that temperature reached one hundred and eighty degrees or more, and oxygen from the microbes was trapped near the hot spots, the probability of spontaneous combustion was good. All the local farmers, who had been farming for years or grew up on farms, knew about letting the hay dry thoroughly before baling it. They also cleared debris from the fields as soon as possible.

  Which meant there might be a more nefarious reason the fire started. But that was something he’d have to look into later, once the fire was put out and danger to the farmers and their families was put to rest.

  “Jacob also listened when you talked about firebreaks the other evening. He had plowed trenches every few acres, just like you suggested.”

  A firebreak was a barrier, whether natural or constructed, that could stop a fire or provide a control line for the firemen to work from. In this case, trenches of newly plowed earth with no dead debris to fuel the fire.

  “Good. That’s probably what kept the fire from spreading too quickly. You can have your men move farther back, Thomas. Let us take it from here.”

  “Ja, I will do,” he said, walking back to the fire wagon and calling to his men with a wave of his hand.

  “What do you need Bobby and me to do?” Gage asked, slipping on his volunteer-fire coat.

  “If you can take the team in the center, I’ll work with the ones on the periphery. We want to coordinate where the w
ater is aimed and be sure no hot spots are left.”

  “Got it.” Gage gave his fiancée a quick, fierce kiss.

  “Be careful,” she said.

  “Will do,” Gage said then trotted out along the side of one of the hoses to the front of the firefight.

  “Bobby?” Deke pointed to a stream of cars starting up the road. “If you can keep any gawkers from getting in the way that would be a help. And watch for Doc Clint. I imagine one of those trucks will be him and either Emma or Harriet. They might need to check out the farmers.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said and headed away from the fire to head off civilians, no questions asked.

  Bobby had been trained in firefighting, just as the other deputies had. In such a small town the deputies were expected to do double duty during emergencies. He wasn’t discriminating about her being a woman by sending her out to handle the crowd. No, his choice to keep her back from the fire was two-fold. Since arriving in Westen, Bobby had proved on more than one occasion that she could handle people, with either sweetness or a strong word. She’d do an excellent job curtailing the gawkers and not take any grief from anyone. The other reason was more for Gage’s benefit. No way would the Gunslinger concentrate on what he was doing if his woman was in the middle of the firefight, too. Keeping her out of harm’s way was a safety issue for Gage and the other men.

  He wasn’t losing another friend to the monster that was a fire.

  * * * * *

  Bobby stood in the middle of the farm road, motioning for cars to turn off and park in another empty field several hundred yards away from the fire. The first car held the Mayor, Tobias Rawlins, son of Judge Rawlins. The second held county District Attorney, Kent Howard. Both men climbed out and headed her way.

  Great. Just what she needed. Gage, Deke and the firefighters were out there in danger, trying to prevent it from spreading, and here were two politicians getting in the way. Probably looking for sound bites.

  Okay. That wasn’t particularly charitable. Tobias had helped save Gage’s life. So she’d cut him some slack, for now, and assume he was here out of concern for the farmers and the firefighting crew. Kent, she wasn’t so sure about.

  “Tobias, Kent,” she said, holding her hands out in front of the pair. “Sorry, gentlemen. Can’t let you past this point.”

  They both stopped, craning their heads to the side to see around her.

  “Any idea what started it?” Kent asked.

  She waved another car to the side, then focused on the would-be politician. Ever since she’d met the viper that was Gage’s ex-wife, she hadn’t been too keen on district attorneys. Especially ones who showed up at major events that might mean a case or publicity for them. “It’s too early to tell at this point. Once the fire is out Chief Reynolds will investigate the cause.”

  “Anyone hurt?” Tobias said, his face filled with concern, hands on his hips.

  Okay, the Mayor gets bonus points for actually caring about the people out there.

  “Not that I’ve been told. But again, everyone’s focused on getting the blaze under control.”

  Tobias nodded. “Okay. We’ll be back here. Let me know if there’s anything we can do.” He clamped one hand on the DA’s shoulder and they moved back towards their cars. Two tall, lanky figures bounded out of a truck and headed for them. She recognized one as Kent’s son, Brett, the high school quarterback.

  What the heck were he and his friend doing here?

  Before she could find out more, another pair hopped out of an SUV that had parked closer than the other vehicles but still out of the way of the fire trucks. They headed right for her. Doc Clint and his wife, Emma. Each carried a duffle bag she assumed held medical equipment. Finally. Someone who would actually be of help.

  “How’s it going, Bobby?” Doc Clint asked, looking past her to where Deke was shouting orders. Gage’s team were shooting water high over the center of the flames while the ones flanking him were concentrating their hoses lower and to the periphery.

  God, she hated that Gage was in the center of things. But then, the big lug always had to be in front of others, protecting them. Probably the only one worse was Deke.

  “Best I can tell, it hasn’t spread since we got here with the fire trucks and pressure hoses.”

  “Any injuries?” Emma asked.

  “No one’s come back here, yet. But I’m not sure if any of the farmers were hurt before we got here.”

  “Emma,” Doc Clint took the duffle bag from his wife. “You get back to the truck and get out the mini oxygen tanks and masks. Don’t turn them on until you need them.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked, worry lacing the corners of her eyes.

  “I’m going to see if there’s anyone that’s inhaled too much smoke up there.” He nodded towards the fire fighters then looked at both Emma and Bobby. “I promise not to get in the way. Won’t be much good to anyone if I get injured.”

  With his promise, Bobby nodded and waved him through. Emma hesitated a moment, watching him move forward.

  “He’ll be careful, Emma,” Bobby reassured him.

  “I know. And he’s in less danger than Gage or Deke.”

  “Yeah, those two see danger and raise their hands saying, sign me up!” Bobby said with more humor than she felt.

  Emma gave a shaky laugh. “They were always like that.”

  She should know. Gage was her older cousin and she’d spent more time with the pair growing up than anyone else. No further words necessary, the nurse headed for the truck and Bobby went back to doing crowd control. Worry set aside for duty.

  Another truck arrived, pulling right up beside the doc’s SUV, but instead of getting annoyed, this time she smiled. The truck was more like a van with the sides painted in flamboyant pink, red, yellow and shades of peach and the new logo for the Peaches ’N Cream Café blazoned on the side.

  Lorna.

  Bobby couldn’t help but smile as the café owner climbed out of the driver side, her bright yellow hair glowing from the reflection of the fire. Out of the passenger side came…not Rachel, but Pete, the line cook. Lorna said something to the apparently aged hippie, who nodded then came around the back of the truck. Lorna made a beeline straight for her.

  “I brought water and sports drinks to keep the guys hydrated. Some stuff for sandwiches, too, in case this turns into an all-nighter,” she said in way of a greeting. Trust Lorna to think of things beyond rescues and injuries, to other needs the crew might have, especially this far out in the boondocks.

  “Sounds good. Right there by where Emma is setting up their makeshift triage should be good.”

  “That’s what I thought. Told Pete to get out the table. We’ll set up the drinks in an easy spot for the crew to get ahold of. ’Course, gonna have to keep the gawkers out of the supplies,” Lorna said, casting a disparaging look at the group gathering near the mayor and DA.

  Of course, if she was lucky, Lorna would march over and disperse the crowing crowd of spectators with marching orders.

  * * * * *

  Libby directed Sean to take the last right turn onto the gravel road that ran beside the Zimmer farm—a farm she visited biannually, like all the other farms in the area, to check on the welfare of the kids, visit with the parents, and often came home with a basket of fresh produce or baked goods—but by this time he no longer needed her directions, since the flames and smoke up ahead announced the farm and fire’s location.

  Jacob and Anna Zimmer had four little children. The whole drive out here in the near dark, she’d prayed that nothing terrible had happened to the family. While a fire in the field might be terribly frightening, a house fire or the injury of a child would be devastating to the young couple.

  She strained to look beyond the field to where she knew the house was. Lights were on inside, but the fire was nowhere near the farmhouse.

  Thank God.

  “Park here,” she said, pointing to the line of cars off to the side. “We don’t want to get in
the way.”

  “No problem.” Sean swung his car into the field, parking alongside a pickup truck.

  She made to get out, but he stopped her with his hand on her arm. She blinked and looked back at him. “What?”

  “Thanks,” he said, honest appreciation in his eyes. “You really didn’t have to come out here. I probably could’ve found it by following the others.”

  “Probably, but you could’ve gotten lost, too.” She shrugged, feeling a little awkward. “Can’t have the town’s only news source wandering around lost in the dark, not when we just got you.”

  “True. Hate to be the source of a rescue mission with this going on.” He laughed and released her arm. “But I just wanted to be sure I said thanks anyways, in case I don’t get a chance later.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They climbed out of the car and headed up the path to where other town folks had gathered, many of them spoke or nodded hello.

  “Everyone always come out for fires like this?” Sean asked, looking around at the crowd, most of whom had worried expressions on their faces.

  “We don’t get a lot of this kind of emergency too often, thank goodness.” She paused, staring directly at him. “The series of murders and meth lab explosion that nearly leveled the town and almost killed Gage last spring a definite exception. I think that made majority of us, and definitely the town council, realize how much we needed to pay more attention to each other’s needs. Sort of a wake-up slap to us as a community. And it took a community to save him.”

  “Yeah, no help that my predecessor took a header over the line to crazyville, from what I’ve learned.”

  “And until Bobby came here asking questions, none of us saw it coming.”

  They continued closer to the spot where Lorna stood talking with Bobby Roberts, who was dressed in volunteer fire gear and keeping everyone not essential out of the way.

  “It took that near catastrophe to bring our core value to light.”

  “And that is?” he asked.