Her Christmas Miracle: Park City Firefighter Romances

by Banner, Daniel

  “I’m already out the door,” said Emma.

  Through the phone, Jillian heard keys jingling.

  “Thanks. I … I’ll see you soon.”

  “Don’t hang up, Jill. I think I should keep you on the phone until I get there.” Emma’s voice went tinny and ambient sounds came over the line. The car door opening and closing. A click as Emma snapped her phone into the hands-free dock.

  Jillian checked her surroundings again. Still gloriously alone. Help was on the way and she had a lifeline. “I’m lucky to have you.”

  “You know it,” said Emma. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, so I’ll just put on your jam. If you get in any trouble, just yell. I know where you are and I’ll call for help.”

  “Thanks, Em.”

  Jillian tried to think of what Emma would pick as her jam and came up blank.

  A country twang sang through the phone, followed by Sloane Kent’s smooth, crooning voice.

  “Ha!” the startled laugh broke from Jillian’s choked-up throat. “You got us confused. That’s your jam.”

  “Oh yeah, you’re right.” Emma sang along, “… On the day you stole mah hearrrrt.”

  “It was a heck of a show,” admitted Jillian. Small talk was exactly what she needed to survive the next ten minutes. Calling Emma had been a genius move, and Jillian knew Emma would tell her as much if she gave her the chance.

  “My future husband Sloane was singing this song about you and that fireman that night.”

  “My Viking fireman,” agreed Jillian. She remembered that little prayer for safety she had offered right before the bearded man appeared. At the time a glimmer of hope too dim to mention had sparked inside her that he would appear in the alley and help her survive the poor decision.

  At the concert she had been watching for him the whole time, but never as much as during this song. For the length of one chorus, he had come into view on the far side of the amphitheater—head and shoulders above the crowd. Then just as quickly he had disappeared, leaving her to wonder how such an imposing man could hide from her. Must have been busy with rescues the whole night. It obviously hadn’t been meant to be.

  “You got anything Christmasy?” asked Jillian. “It’s almost December. Christmas music is my jam for the next month.”

  After a few seconds, a country singer drawled, “I’m dreaming … of a white Christmas.”

  “Better,” said Jillian. “I love Utah Christmases.”

  “You mean you never had White Christmases growing up in L.A.?”

  “No,” said Jillian. “And it was Napa, not L.A.”

  “Everything south of San Francisco is L.A.,” said Emma. “You can’t convince me otherwise.”

  Jillian didn’t even try telling her that Napa was actually north of San Francisco. When “White Christmas” ended, a Garth Brooks Christmas song came on, the one with the animals in the stables. Jillian was at least familiar enough with country music to recognize Garth.

  Just as the song ended, Emma pulled into the lot and flashed her lights. Jillian double checked that her car was locked then brushed off the accumulated snow, climbed in, and gave Emma a hug over the console. A female country artist was singing “Do You Hear What I Hear?”

  The emotion that had bubbled inside after her freak out had already been treated by Emma. The threat on the dam of tears had abated.

  “Thanks for saving me,” said Jillian.

  Emma shrugged. “It’s in my job description as greatest best friend in the world. At least until your Viking fireman gets a clue and finds you again.”

  As they drove slowly down the snowy streets, Jillian explained what had happened. As much as she remembered anyway. Emma was the perfect listening ear. When she’d made it through the story to the point of calling Emma, she said, “I guess I wasn’t really in danger, so the whole things sounds stupid and harmless—”

  “Don’t ever think that,” said Emma firmly. “You’ve been through bad stuff. You’re allowed to freak out a little.”

  “Full-on visit to Crazy Town is beyond a little freak out.” The lost minutes of her life still terrified her a little. “It’s full-blown crazy lady.”

  “That’s allowed, too,” said Emma. “I’m proud of you for not swearing off men forever.”

  “I know there are good men out there. My dad and my brother are the best people I know. Wish I could have convinced them to move to Utah when I came for college. But yeah, I know there’s someone out there for me. It was part of The Prophecy.” Once again Jillian was thankful for a friend who she could talk about such a special experience with.

  Emma said, “I’m still rooting for tall, blond, and Viking.”

  Jillian was rooting for him too. “I kinda want to give up,” she admitted. “Not on men, but on the three times we’ll meet requirement. I only have a few more weeks in Park City.”

  “Stay strong,” said Emma. “I know I don’t have to tell you that because the Good Lord already did.”

  “I know,” said Jillian. She reached over and gave Emma’s hand a squeeze. “Thanks.” There was a list in her mind of all Emma had done for her, but the emotion had climbed into her throat again, so they just drove without speaking.

  The hymns from the radio continued to speak peace to her soul.

  4

  Jak swiped his ID card and pulled open the door at Station 3. Snow swirled around him and into the door. As he stepped into the station, that feeling came over him again, that something important was going to happen tonight. It was the same feeling he’d had at the concert before he met Jillian. He’d already seen her tonight; was there a chance they’d have meeting number three already? He didn’t feel like that was it.

  The familiar smell of that morning’s bacon mixed with faint diesel exhaust residue blew out, putting him on edge—a call could come in at any second.

  “Settle down, cowboy,” he told himself. “You still got a couple of days.”

  It felt good to be home. The wildland season had gone longer than ever, and he was ready to be back with his PCFD family.

  The station office was empty and the apparatus bay lights were off. It was after dinner, so the guys were probably upstairs relaxing. As Jak climbed the stairs, familiar voices reached his ears, and while he couldn’t make out the words, the tone was teasing. Yes, he was definitely home.

  Jak reached the living area and saw the guys sitting on the recliners. The subject of the banter appeared to be a cell phone. Someone must have broken the no cell phone during family time rule.

  Beckett said, “‘Twas a month before Christmas, all snowy and white …” He handed the phone off to Nikola who took up the rhyme.

  “…Family time came, not a phone was in sight.” Nikola tossed the phone across the room toward Charlotte, but Jak stepped in and snatched it out of the air.

  The crew turned to see him.

  Tom was the first to speak up. “Sorry, sir, the homeless shelter is down in Salt Lake City. This is a fire station.”

  “Wait,” said Beckett. “Look under the beard. He’s kind of familiar. Didn’t he used to work here?”

  Jak didn’t know whose phone he’d intercepted, but he still remembered how to give as good as he took. He tossed the stolen phone into the garbage can. “A guy goes away to be a hero for a couple months and you forget all about him?”

  JFK shot out of his recliner, digging through the trash and muttering something about being mistreated. The rest of the crew came out of their recliners as well, doing the man handshake and bumping shoulders.

  “What are you doing here, JFK?” asked Jak. “Why did I go all the way to Pineapple’s to pick up the costume if I could have just gotten it from you here?” He knew the answer. If he hadn’t detoured to Pineapple’s on the way here, he wouldn’t have seen Jillian again, as odd as that encounter had been.

  “Doing your job for you,” said JFK, “while you’ve been out playing in the dirt.” JFK’s tone was acerbic, but Jak knew he was on overtime. The federa
l government paid to backfill Jak’s position every day he was out on deployment. JFK’s phone chirped. He looked at it and said, “Finally some civilized company. My wife’s here, I’ll be downstairs in the community room.”

  Jak still couldn’t believe JFK had landed someone like Mercy. Sure, he had a heart of gold and Mercy had a few rough edges to her, but they still kind of reminded him of Beauty and the Beast. If there was hope for JFK, there had to be hope for Jak.

  “Hey, Charlotte, can I talk to you for a second?” asked Jak. She was the closest thing he had to a sister and as he’d driven to the station, he knew he had to get her take on the weird encounter with Jillian.

  The other guys grumbled about being ditched as Jak and Charlotte went down the hall toward the upstairs office.

  “I saw her!” said Jak while they were still in the hallway.

  “Wait. Her her? The Jill to your Jak?”

  “Yeah. That alley right behind Pineapple’s, like half an hour ago.”

  “That’s two!” said Charlotte, holding a fist for him to bump.

  “That’s what I told her.” He lazily hit her fist, still mulling over the rest of the encounter in the alley.

  “What’d she say?”

  “Nothing,” said Jak. “Not a single word.”

  Charlotte looked as confused as Jak felt. “So … do you feel like that’s a good sign or bad?”

  “I’m not sure. I asked if she remembered me and told her it was me, even said my name, just in case she couldn’t see through the beard. She kept her chin down but her eyes were on me the whole time, and she just barreled right past.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. But that is some beard.” Charlotte eyebrows lowered as she considered. “What name did you say?”

  Jak gave her the are-you-serious look. “Jak. What name do you think I would tell her?”

  “I don’t know. Finalyson. Crew boss. Grizzly Adams.”

  Jak ran one hand over the bushy mask on his face. “You’re too young to even know who that is,” he told her.

  “And you’re so much older,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I wish I would have been there with you this time. Every one of you guys is so bad at reading women. It’s why you’re still single.”

  “Um, pot. Kettle. Sound familiar?”

  “Um, no because the reason I’m single is no man can keep up with all this sparkle and shine.”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.” It was Jak’s turn to roll his eyes.

  “What did her face look like?” asked Charlotte?

  That was a really good question. Jak could still picture it perfectly. “I tried to read her face, looking for recognition or maybe a joke. It was pretty dark, but from what I could tell, her face was completely blank.”

  Charlotte was still studying him.

  Jak tried to think of how to describe it. “Did you ever take psychology?”

  “Of course,” scoffed Charlotte. “Why do you think I’m so good with psych patients?”

  “Because you’re crazy,” answered Jak.

  She scowled at him and he said, “Don’t set me up if you don’t want me to knock it down.”

  “Well, yes, I took psychology, but I know you didn’t because you’ve been a firefighter since you were twelve, dummy.”

  It felt so good to be back in the station with his family. A fire crew was a dream come true for an only child. “I got my degree online, dummy. Anyway, a phrase came back to me out of nowhere: affect display.”

  Charlotte was nodding along.

  “You know, it’s like the life on someone’s face that lets other people interpret them. She had no affect display whatsoever.”

  “I can picture that.”

  “So what does it mean?” asked Jak, glad she was picking up what he was talking about.

  “She was messing with you, bro. It’s the next stage of the three-meetings drama.”

  Jak shook his head slowly. “If she was acting, she deserves an Academy Award. Charlotte, there wasn’t a glimmer of anything—not in the shape of her mouth, crinkle of wrinkles, and especially her eyes.” Jak replayed it in his mind again, wondering if he’d missed something. “It was like she was a robot.” Either that or she’d been hiding behind an invisible shield.

  “Was she okay?” asked Charlotte. “Low blood sugar? Stroke? Concussion?” She circled a finger around her ear. “Poco loco?” Of course Charlotte would go there. She was quite possibly the best medic Jak had ever worked with.

  “I wondered about all of those,” said Jak. “But every patient I’ve seen with those conditions has a look on their face. Even the stroke patients. You can see a light shining behind their aphasia.”

  “Welp. That leaves one explanation.”

  Jak waited, knowing Charlotte was drawing an answer out of him. When she just stared up at him, he finally gave in. Finding out what was on her mind was more important than winning the game of chicken this time.

  “What’s the explanation?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “You scared the living affect out of her. I know that beard impresses some women, but can you imagine meeting that rampaging thing in a dark alley? I would have run away screaming.”

  “I wasn’t rampaging,” said Jak, hoping with everything he had that Charlotte was wrong. “I kept my distance as soon as I realized she wasn’t reacting in a normal manner. I reminded her who I was and backed against the wall, giving her as much room as I could. I even asked if she needed any help or medical attention.”

  Charlotte scratched her head. “That probably offended her.”

  “I said it way after I knew something was up. And she still didn’t answer. Just kept watching me with those silent eyes.”

  “And you just let her walk away?” asked Charlotte. “What if she needed anti-zombie meds or something? Now that I say that, you should have been the one scared. She could have eaten your brain.”

  “Funny,” said Jak, in a voice that said he did not find it funny at all.

  “Okay, seriously though, if she had an altered level of consciousness, what was to stop her from walking out in traffic. You didn’t just let her walk off did you?”

  “Of course not,” said Jak. “I followed her.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Because that wouldn’t freak her out worse than she already was.”

  “She wasn’t freaked out, Char. I would have picked up on fear. I kept my distance, as much as possible to still be able to see her because I was really scared for her. She walked less than a block and stopped at that public parking lot then pulled out her keys.”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t let her drive away. I mean, some of those other guys are dumb enough to do that, but I give you credit for more brains than that.” She signaled over her shoulder at the dayroom.

  “No way,” said Jak. “I started running toward her, but she stopped and started looking around like she was waking up, so I hid again.”

  “Okay, you’re making this up.” Charlotte shook her head. “Go ahead and give me the punchline.”

  “It’s not a joke,” insisted Jak. “I wish it was. Well, I’m glad I saw her, because I’m one step closer to dating her, but I wish the rest of it was made up. She put her keys away and pulled out her phone and talked on it for about ten minutes, until her friend pulled up to give her a ride. It was Emma, her friend from the concert.”

  “Welp, it’s official.” Charlotte put a hand on Jak’s shoulder. “You got yourself a drama mama. Wish I could buy you a beer right now to cry in, but it would be rude for you to drink in front of me when I’m stuck on duty.”

  Jak wished he could drown his worries in a beer, as trite as that seemed. Yet despite the weird encounter, he still had that feeling that Jillian was The One.

  “Maybe it’s you that’s off,” said Charlotte, peering into Jak’s eyes. “I’m sure three months on the Arizona Trail can do strange things to a man. Let’s go back in and get you on the couch and let the guys psycho analyze you.” Together they started walking ba
ck to the day room.

  “No thanks,” said Jak with a chuckle. He knew exactly what had gotten into him—fate and a certain steely-eyed girl. Still, he was far from ready to give up.

  When they reached the common area, Garrett said, “Did you get that fire out? “

  “Finally,” said Jak. “Latest fire season I’ve ever seen.”

  Tom said, “I can’t get over the beard, you crazy Viking.”

  Jak smiled. The nickname Jillian had given him had caught on.

  “Yeah, when’s it coming off, Samson?” asked Beckett.

  “Wrong Biblical figure,” said Jak. “Samson had long hair, not a long beard.”

  “Either way,” said Charlotte. “If wildland is over, you’re a city guy. So when are you shaving.”

  Jak understood their confusion. He didn’t like the keeping the beard once the season ended. “I don’t come back to work for four days. And in three days, there’s a Christmas Pageant at JFK’s church.”

  “Don’t tell me,” said Garrett with a disbelieving look in his eye. “They are going to let you play Jesus with that red beard of yours?”

  Jak shrugged. “I guess last year they had a black Jesus and he was the best one they’ve ever had.

  “No pressure on you or anything,” said Charlotte.

  “I have like two lines,” explained Jak. “I can’t mess them up too bad.”

  “That explains the costume you guys were talking about,” said Tom, “but not why you’d want to do a favor for JFK?”

  “He was smart,” said Jak with a grimace. “He had his wife, Mercy, ask me and I couldn’t say no.”

  “Speaking of JFK,” said Tom, “he’s got his eye on your spot.”

  “That’s right,” added Tom. “Says he’s going to bid it.”

  “It breaks up the crew, but man can he cook,” said Nikola. “You should have tasted the brisket he smoked for us today. He came in at five a.m. to start it.”