Firefly Mountain

by Christine DePetrillo

  “Grab that good-looking dog of yours, Barre. He’s earned a right to Claremont’s tour as well.” Chief Warner gave him a wave as he disappeared back into his office.

  “That dog’s yours?” Jonah asked. “I’ve never seen an all black German Shepherd. He looks like a wolf.”

  Patrick followed Jonah to the station’s parking lot. As soon as they reached the truck, Midas stood on all fours and whimpered.

  “We’re coming for you, buddy.” Jonah opened the tailgate and the dog jumped down. “What’s his name?”

  “Midas.” Patrick watched as Midas licked every square inch of Jonah’s face.

  Jonah chuckled when the dog pawed at his shoulders almost knocking him over.

  “Midas, asseyez.” Patrick pulled on the dog’s collar until Midas sat on his haunches. “Sorry. He’s not usually so…friendly.”

  “It’s okay. I’m an animal guy. He probably smells my sister’s horses or cat on me. Was by her place this morning for a ride then helped her fix a broken barn door. You handy, Patrick?”

  “You could say that.” Patrick thought of all the woodworking he’d done during his lifetime. Furniture, sheds, houses. He’d tried building it all. He couldn’t wait to dive in on his house. It had potential. A little rundown and outdated, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

  “Good,” Jonah said. “You can trust a guy who knows how to use a hammer. I mean really use it, not just carry it around in his tool belt, you know?”

  Patrick supposed it was a good way to measure a man. If his own gauging system were any good, he’d say this Jonah guy was all right.

  “This way.” Jonah led Patrick back to the station. Midas trailed after them both, stopping only to sniff at random spots on the floor.

  “How long have you been with the Burnam Fire Department?” Patrick asked. Small talk made him uncomfortable, but he figured the situation called for it.

  “Pretty much forever.” Jonah looked back and grinned as he took the stair steps two at a time. “My daddy was chief here before Warner. I grew up in this station. Lost my virginity in the parking lot right out back.”

  He turned down a narrow hallway that dumped into a tidy kitchen area. The walls were knotted pine and smelled of outdoors. Patrick breathed deeply, feeling oddly at home in the space. Pine cabinets hung above and below a dark green countertop. Stainless steel appliances broke up the golden wood that flowed from wall to wall. A long, sturdy table with chunky legs and benches on both sides sat in the middle of the room.

  “This here’s our dining quarters, obviously. My mother sees that the fridge is always packed and sometimes, if we’ve all been good, she’ll make us a home-cooked meal. When we can, all us fighters sit together, as long as there’s no fire burning somewhere, and have us a family-like banquet. Lots of nice guys work here. You’ll see.”

  Jonah’s blue eyes softened when he talked about the fighters. “Suppose you had some nice guys back where you came from. Where was that anyway?”

  “Providence.” Patrick shifted his weight from foot to foot. The guys in Rhode Island had always been kind to him, but he hadn’t gotten to know any of them on a personal level. Hadn’t ever eaten dinner family-style with them. Hadn’t even considered it.

  “Spent some time visiting in Rhode Island,” Jonah said. “Nice beaches. Good frozen lemonade.”

  Patrick laughed and the sound startled him. It had slipped through his lips with no effort at all. He cleared his throat and followed Jonah.

  With more small talk and stops to introduce some of the other fighters, Jonah prodded Patrick and Midas into the dorm then moved onto the workout room, followed by the classroom, equipment storage, and vehicle bays. Every area was spotless and organized. Just the way Patrick liked it.

  When Jonah showed him the lavatory complete with showers, Patrick kept walking, pretending he wanted to see the rest of the station. He’d managed to never use the station’s showers in Providence, and he planned to do the same in Burnam. His body was his business, and he’d stick to cleaning it in the privacy of his own home where no one could judge him.

  “It’s not enormous,” Jonah said, “but it’s functional and efficient. We get to the emergencies in record speed and always have what we need. That’s the point.”

  “Agreed.” Patrick turned in a small circle below the fire pole Jonah had insisted on using to get back to ground level.

  “You starting today?” Jonah asked. Midas nosed at his hands until Jonah gave the dog a back rub.

  “Tomorrow,” Patrick said. “Midas and I need to check in with the police department today.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning then.” Jonah held out a hand. “Hope the tour was helpful.”

  Patrick shook Jonah’s hand. “It was. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Jonah bent to get eye level with Midas. “Pleasure meeting you, doggy. I look forward to working with you. Both of you.” He glanced up to Patrick.

  “Secouez, Midas.” On that command, Midas lifted a paw to shake hands, and Jonah laughed as he accepted it.

  “He must rake in the ladies for you,” Jonah said as he stood.

  Patrick hesitated, not sure what to say. Jonah didn’t give him the chance to respond. Instead, he motioned Patrick over to the back doors of the station and pointed.

  “See that shiny, red Mustang over there? The convertible? That’s how I rake in the ladies.” Jonah wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll take you for a drive soon. You’ll see.” He elbowed Patrick and again the urge to laugh surprised Patrick.

  “Unless you’ve already got a lady,” Jonah said.

  Patrick shook his head and snapped his fingers at Midas, who immediately gave up sniffing at Jonah’s boots. “See you tomorrow, Jonah.”

  “Later.”

  Outside, the summer air was motionless. Patrick opened the door to his truck and let Midas scamper over to the passenger seat. After climbing in himself, he spent a few moments hanging on to the steering wheel in the suffocating heat. How was it that he’d only spent about thirty minutes in that station, but felt more at home than he’d ever felt in Rhode Island?

  Shaking his head, Patrick started the truck and headed to the police station down the street. He had a meeting with the detective in charge of fire-related cases that he didn’t want to be late for. Something about this silly little town had him wanting to make a good first impression. Never concerned him before. He was good at his job. He knew that. But for some reason, he had the urge to be better.

  ****

  Gini held her breath as she did whenever she developed pictures in the darkroom at her studio in town. Something about watching an image appear on the photo paper that was magic to her. Always had been. Each picture, even though she’d been the one to take it with her camera, was a surprise, a gift.

  She smiled as the little hummingbird emerged on the photo in her hands now. Its body hovered outside the honeysuckle bloom, needle-like beak poised above the petals. Her patience in capturing this shot had paid off. The editors at Leaf would love this picture.

  A series of four short knocks on the darkroom door made Gini clip the almost completely visible picture to the drying line. She turned off the equipment she’d been using and opened the door.

  “Sorry to bug you,” Gini’s assistant and general best friend, Haddy Thetford, said, “but Chief Warner called and said…yes.” Haddy’s eyes opened wide as her lips turned up in a huge grin.

  “Yes? He said yes?” Gini clapped her hands then grabbed on to Haddy’s arms. The two of them square-danced back to Gini’s office. Giggles echoed off the high ceilings and wide-planked wood floors.

  “I didn’t think he would go for the idea,” Haddy said.

  “Me neither. Did you see the way his brows furrowed down to his nose when I suggested the notion?” Gini chuckled as she pictured the chief’s face.

  “I think it’s the cause that got to him. He’s got three dogs and four cats. Says they belong to his kids, but I
’ve seen him in town walking the dogs. They’re as much his family as his wife and kids are. Maybe more so.” Haddy sunk into the leather reading chair across from Gini’s desk.

  “A calendar of hunky firefighters is the perfect way to raise money for the Burnam Animal Shelter. It’s going to stir things up in this sleepy town.” Gini patted herself on the back and bowed as if in front of a crowd.

  “You are a genius,” Haddy said. “I kneel at your feet. Figuratively, of course. This skirt is new, and I’m not about to ruin it worshipping your brilliance.”

  Gini grabbed a sheet of paper off her desk, crumpled it, and tossed it at Haddy.

  “I bet you’ll want to be involved in every aspect of this assignment though, won’t you?” Gini pointed an index finger at Haddy.

  “Hell, yeah. If you think I’d miss a chance to put sexy firefighters in seductive poses while you take longer than necessary to photograph them, you, my friend, are sadly mistaken.”

  “Okay, we need to plan the shoots so no one is inconvenienced, and Chief Warner doesn’t regret his decision.”

  Haddy grabbed a notebook off the end of Gini’s desk. Pen in hand, she wrote down everything Gini said. When they were done, they had a solid course of action mapped out.

  “I’ll go by the station tomorrow and talk to the chief,” Gini said. “I’d like to have the fighters come to my farm for the photo shoot. Between you and me we’ve got plenty of animals so we can play up the firefighters-are-compassionate-to-animals angle.”

  “My bird, dogs, and bunnies would love the chance to pose with some hunks,” Haddy said. “Come to think of it, I’d love the chance to pose with some hunks. Maybe we can take a few extra shots, ones that aren’t necessarily calendar appropriate?” Haddy licked her lips.

  “You and my brother think so much alike.” Gini let out a long breath. If it wasn’t Jonah making a lewd but funny comment, it was Haddy.

  “Your brother is an outstanding guy,” Haddy said. “Deliciously outstanding.”

  “When are you going to come out and say you want him?” Gini laughed at the way Haddy’s mouth dropped open. “You know you do. I think you two would make—”

  “Was that the door?” Haddy popped up from her seat and scurried out of the office.

  Left alone, Gini shook her head. Though teasing Haddy was fun, who was she to tell someone else how to handle their love life? She didn’t know the first thing about relationships. She had her farm and her pictures. That’s all she needed.

  That’s all she could have.

  Chapter Three

  “Here comes trouble.” Jonah angled his chin to the station’s front doors where a woman—perhaps an angel—with long, wavy hair the same color as Jonah’s entered.

  Patrick nearly dropped the hose he was inspecting for splits. He fumbled around, got tangled, then relaxed long enough to set the hose down without looking like an idiot. He hoped.

  The woman’s smile lit up the station, and her legs, impossibly long and shapely, balanced on a pair of sandals that crisscrossed leather straps over manicured feet. The slim-fitting tank dress she wore made her eyes sparkle a deep shade of blue. A simple necklace of small white seashells gave her a carefree summer look. Patrick could almost smell the ocean as he looked at her.

  Stop looking. He forced his attention back to the hose at his feet.

  “Hey, sis,” Jonah said. “Looking good.”

  Patrick glanced over in time to see Jonah spin this goddess around in a circle. When she laughed, his heart pounded in his chest. The dimples gracing the smooth skin of her cheeks captivated him. He actually took a step away from the hose and closer to her before he caught himself.

  What’s wrong with you? Patrick turned toward the equipment storage room. He’d get some supplies and continue with his task. He’d focus.

  “Patrick, wait up,” Jonah called.

  Patrick swallowed, his throat desert dry, and turned around. A crowd of fighters had come to surround the woman now. Patrick’s jaw tightened as the men laughed with her. Some of them even touched her, and she smiled along with them, teased, flirted.

  And then her eyes connected with his, and she nudged playfully past the wall of fighters to come to him.

  Patrick flicked his gaze to Jonah, who stood right in front of him now.

  “Gini, come here,” Jonah said. When she sidled up next to Jonah, he slung an arm around her shoulders and ruffled her hair.

  What did that hair feel like? Silk probably. Patrick stuffed his hands in his pockets afraid he’d try to touch the golden waves.

  “Knock it off, Jonah.” Her voice was music, perfectly suited to that jolly expression on her flawless face. She edged Jonah away with her hip.

  “Patrick Barre, this is my older sister, Gini Claremont.” Jonah barely sidestepped the punch Gini launched into his shoulder.

  “I told you to quit calling me your ‘older’ sister,” she said. “It’s not necessary. We’re only two years apart.” She turned that smiling face to Patrick and held out a slender hand. “Nice to meet you, Patrick. You sure you want to join this band of uncivilized brutes?”

  Patrick stared at that outstretched hand, let his gaze travel up that tanned forearm to the subtly sculpted bicep and finally, to the bare shoulder where curls of sun-streaked hair feathered over her soft skin. It had to be soft. It just had to be.

  Gini’s wiggling fingers snapped Patrick out of his dream. He took her hand and confirmed what he’d been thinking. She was an angel. No doubt about it. When her fingers closed around his hand and she shook lightly, Patrick had a wild notion to stop time and hold her hand forever. Stupid notion because now he wanted to do so much more than hold her hand. That’s why he dropped her hand and took three steps back to put some distance between his hormones and her perfection.

  Hormones. That’s what it was. He’d been alone for a long time, but he was still a man with needs. She was a beautiful woman. Only natural he’d be attracted, stirred up, by the sight of her. It would pass.

  “Nice to meet you too.” Patrick jammed his hands back into his pockets, but leaned against the wall beside him. Casual. He could be casual.

  “Patrick’s a fire investigator,” Jonah told Gini. “Got an amazing dog around here somewhere too.” Jonah scanned the vehicle bay looking for Midas.

  Patrick pointed a finger under the stairs where Midas was curled up. As if knowing people were talking about him, the dog’s head popped up. He rose to all fours and scuttled out from his sleeping spot. Once Midas was in full view, Gini let out a breathy sigh.

  “He’s absolutely gorgeous.” Her eyes flashed to Patrick for a moment, then she walked over to Midas. She gracefully bent, offering a bonus view of one toned thigh, and cupped the dog’s muzzle in her hand. After setting her oversized purse down, she let both hands rub Midas from ears to tail. The dog flopped down onto his back and made little satisfied doggy noises as Gini scratched his belly.

  Patrick watched, wishing she’d give him some attention like that. Jonah elbowing him in the gut snapped him out of his fantasy.

  “Knew that dog could rake in the ladies. What did I tell you?” Jonah went to join his sister in spoiling Midas.

  Gini let Jonah take over and rose to her feet. As she walked back to Patrick, he watched her eyes comb down the length of him. What did she see? What would she think of what she couldn’t see?

  “You just move here?” Gini asked.

  Patrick nodded, watched her chew on her bottom lip. If she thought she was going to get to know him, she was wrong. He couldn’t allow it. She wouldn’t like what she got to know anyway.

  “From where?” Her hands tightened on the strap of her purse.

  “Rhode Island.”

  Her fingers fascinated him. Though they were clean and her nails obviously cared for, her hands also looked used as if they’d seen some hard work. His own hands were a total disaster. Calloused and scarred—not as bad as other parts of him, of course—his hands had been splintered, sliced, pr
icked, skinned, and once, broken from pinkie fingertip to wrist. He flexed his left hand thinking about that incident.

  “I went to school in Rhode Island. RISD, Rhode Island School of Design,” she said. “Master of Fine Arts in Photography.” She dug around in that mammoth purse and extracted a complicated camera.

  Every muscle in Patrick’s body tensed at the sight of that camera. He hated, no, loathed pictures. He always looked like a miserable prick in photographs. Something about having that lens zoom in on him made him think it could see through his clothes. To what was hidden underneath them. To what he tried so hard to forget.

  “Ah, the more attractive Claremont.” Chief Warner broke the silence Gini’s camera had caused.

  “Hey,” Jonah said. “I heard that.”

  “Sorry, kid, but it’s true. Your parents definitely gave all the beauty to this one. Don’t you think so, Barre?” Chief Warner asked.

  The corner of Gini’s mouth curled up as she waited for Patrick’s response. He was in a sticky spot, and she knew it.

  “Indeed.” He hoped that was a safe answer. Judging by the fact that the dimple deepened in Gini’s cheek, Patrick assumed she approved of his response.

  “Does that make me the smart one?” Jonah asked.

  “No, it makes you the ugly one.” Gini stuck her tongue out at her brother and sent the chief into a fit of laughter. She let Chief Warner lead the way to his office.

  As the door closed, Patrick let out the breath he’d been holding. The breath that was keeping him from going to pieces.

  “My mother wouldn’t say I was the ugly one.” Jonah cuffed Patrick on the shoulder and went back to his duties.

  Patrick studied Jonah for a moment. Jonah and Gini had no idea what ugly looked like. He could show them. He wouldn’t, but he could.

  ****

  Inside Chief Warner’s office, Gini unrolled her plan of attack on the calendar idea. The chief did a great deal of nodding and smiling. Encouraged, Gini filled in all the details hoping she and Haddy hadn’t left out anything important.