The Fireman's Secret (3 page)

The chief sat a little straighter. “And you’re asking if the fire department would help you raise more?”

“People love firefighters.” She shrugged.

“Dashing men in uniform coming to the rescue. What’s not to love, right, Joel?”

Unsure of the correct way to interact with his new boss, Joel only offered a smile.

The chief extended his hand to shake Shelby’s. “Of course we’ll help. In fact, Joel, since you’re new around here, as your first order of business upon joining the department, I’m going to have you team with Shelby on planning a fund-raiser. You’ll get to meet the whole town that way.”

“Sure. Why not?” Helping host a fund-raiser was the perfect opportunity to get in good with the people of Goose Harbor, which was what he needed if this was going to be his forever home. He wanted them to forget the moody teenager who ran away. If he had tried, he couldn’t have come up with a better way to enter the town again.

“I was thinking a pancake breakfast,” Shelby piped up.

Joel leaned his elbows on his knees. “Food included. This gig is getting better by the minute. So, what are we fund-raising for?”

“To rebuild the church.”

Her words hit his gut like a two-ton weight.
Rebuild the church?
There had been only one in town when he left.
But
—he swallowed hard. It felt like there was gravel in his throat—
it couldn’t be
. “What church?”

Shelby touched his forearm. “The only church in town. You remember, don’t you? Wait, you wouldn’t because it was still standing when you lived here last time, wasn’t it?”

Joel’s heart beat so hard and fast he was afraid it showed through his shirt.

“What happened to it?” He had to ask since they thought he didn’t know. Not looking curious would cast suspicion his way.

Shelby tugged on her sleeves and glanced at the ground.

Chief Wheeler cleared his throat. “It burned down, but I figured you knew that.”

Of course Joel already knew.

Because fourteen years ago, he’d been the one who set it on fire.

Chapter Two

J
oel’s gaze followed Shelby as she left the chief’s office.

Chief Wheeler rose from his desk, crossed the room and shut the door to his office. “Shelby is a very special young woman.”

“Yes, I know.” With the news about the church’s destruction swirling through his mind, Joel couldn’t quite make eye contact with the chief. What if someone discovered the role he played in the fire? Would he be able to justify his actions? He hadn’t realized he’d destroyed the whole building. He’d only meant to ruin a wall or something of that magnitude. Just enough to send the message to God that he was not okay with what had been happening in his life.

“How well do you know Shelby?” The chief moved to the edge of his desk and scooted so he was sitting, which brought him very near to where Joel sat.

Relax.
He commanded the muscles in his back and arms to ease. Focusing on Shelby helped, since she had nothing to do with the fire. “I knew her years ago. From when I lived here before. I was more friends with Caleb than with her, but she tagged along most of the time when we hung out...like an annoying little sister should.”

He chuckled as a memory pushed its way into his mind, one of Shelby trying to chase after Caleb, Miles and Joel as they tried to sneak out of youth group to go waterskiing. When they wouldn’t let her follow she went and tattled on them. The youth pastor made the boys clean the church’s bathrooms every Saturday for the next month.

“A lot can happen in fourteen years, son.” The tone in Chief Wheeler’s voice changed on the last word. It became softer, kinder.

It sounded a bit like forgiveness. Or was Joel hearing things through the filter of misguided hope?

Joel finally met the man’s eyes. “You’re right. That’s a lot of time. Life’s moved on for all of us, and I’m just glad for the chance to be back, however long that is. Chief, I’m not sure how much you remember about how I was as a teen—”

“Enough.” Wheeler grinned. The chief had been a regular fireman back then, and in a town where everyone knew everyone, Joel was aware that despite the buffer of fourteen years, some of his troubled past was still common knowledge in Goose Harbor.

“I’m not that kid anymore. I hope you know that.”

“I wouldn’t have hired you if I thought you were.” The chief tugged a manila folder from the stack on his desk. “Speaking of which, I wanted to talk to you about the employee information form I asked you to fill out.”

Joel gripped the armrest.
Please don’t ask about Charlie.
Charlie Greave had saved Joel’s life, let him live with his family while Joel pursued his training, and helped Joel land his first position in a firehouse. Charlie had been the only lasting father figure he’d ever known, but then Charlie had left, too. Although, Charlie had fought his illness bravely, he’d lost. Joel didn’t trust himself to talk about it.

Wheeler tugged a single piece of paper from the folder and handed it to Joel. “I think you forgot to list an emergency contact.”

“No. It’s all filled out.” Joel refused to glance at the page. He didn’t want to see the blank lines that he’d never be able to fill in. Name of spouse. Names and ages of children. He didn’t know the first thing about how to be a good boyfriend, husband or father. All he had to offer a girl was a bunch of baggage, and if Joel knew anything, it was that he was man enough to save a woman that sort of disappointment.

Chief Wheeler stood and paced to the window in his office that overlooked the shopping district in town. “Why haven’t you listed an emergency contact?”

“Because I don’t have one.” Why did his stomach feel as if he’d swallowed acid?

“No one?” The chief turned around to face him. “This isn’t your first department, so I’m not going to pretend you don’t know how dangerous our work can be. I do everything in my power to keep the people under my command safe. You understand that, don’t you?”

Joel nodded.

“But I can’t guarantee you won’t get hurt.” Wheeler crossed his arms over his barrel-sized chest. “Many a fireman has had to pay the ultimate price in order to save others.”

“I’m aware of the dangers, sir.” In fact, it was the whole reason Joel had become a firefighter six years ago. The job made his life matter. Finally.

Wheeler’s bushy orange eyebrows dove. “I thought I told you no more calling me sir.”

“You did. I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time understanding what you need from me.”

Wheeler dropped into the chair Shelby had vacated. “You’re telling me that if the worst should happen to you, there’s no one in the world you would want me to contact? Not one single person?”

Joel shuffled his feet. “Is that a problem?”

“No relations? No friends who might wish to be told?”

Joel tucked his hands into his coat pockets. “My mom overdosed about a year after she got released from prison the last time around, and she’s the only family member I knew of.” He shouldn’t have shared that. The chief didn’t need to know about his personal struggles. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. Why is this important to my paperwork?”

“I’m worried about you, Palermo. That’s what. Not having an emergency contact could make you a reckless firefighter. I can’t have you taking chances that’ll harm my other men. An attachment outside of the fire keeps you sane.”

The chief couldn’t be letting him go. Not after Joel moved his whole life up here. How long would his status as an orphan be held against him? Until he died? No, the chief had done a bang-up job reminding him no one would mourn Joel when his time came.

Joel sat up straighter. “You have my paperwork from my last station. At my last post I was recognized for—”

The chief held up his hand to stop Joel’s words. “I’ve read about your accolades and awards. You’re a member of a standby hotshot team. I’m not minimizing that at all. What I am saying, however, is that the rest of this department has strong ties to spouses, children, parents, longtime friends or extended family. When they’re in a burning building they can keep their cool and make decisions because in the back of their minds they’re reminded they have someone who needs them at home. It adds a layer of...weight to their work that keeps them from putting themselves and others in unnecessarily dangerous positions. You don’t have that.”

“Well, I’m not sure what you want me to do exactly. There’s still no one I can add to the line for emergency contacts. Not one person in the world would miss me if I was gone.” He tried to swallow, but his throat felt so tight. Dante was the only creature on earth that’d even miss him.

Chief Wheeler gripped Joel’s shoulder. “Want to know how you can fix this for me? Find something worth coming home to.”

* * *

Shelby ran her sleeve across her forehead. It might only have been the start of summer, but the temperature was already rising. And riding across town on two half-filled bike tires didn’t help, either. She’d yet to hear back from the mechanic about her car, but hopefully the old Volkswagen could be saved, because she wouldn’t be able to bike to all her dog-walking locations. While she was happy her small business had taken off in the past month, she didn’t love driving all over the county in order to make enough to pay rent. If only she could find a way to merge her love of animals with something that would keep her from having to commute from house to house.

Ida Ashby lived in a small cottage just to the right of the West Oaks Inn bed-and-breakfast. The cottage could have popped right off the page of a fairy tale.

She licked her lips, grabbed hold of the copper knocker and knocked.

“Well, now, come on in with you,” Ida’s soft, sweet voice called through one of the open windows.

Shelby eased open the door. “Hi, Ida.”

“Hi there, sweet thing. What brings you down my way?” Though she had been alone in her house, Ida wore a dress. Her hair was pulled back and her Mary Jane shoes shimmered below her crossed ankles.

“I hate to sound rude, but I came to ask you about some money.” Shelby fidgeted with her bag.

Ida set down her mug of tea and peered over her glasses. “You look a mite old to be selling cookies door to door, but if you are, I’ll take two boxes.”

Shelby laughed. She needed to make it down to see Ida more often. The woman was a riot.

“Nothing like that. I promise. Although, if you want cookies, I’ll bring some along next time I stop in.” Shelby winked at her. “Actually, I was coming to ask about Mayor Ashby. He—”

“My Henry was a good man.”

“The best.”

Ida nodded her head solemnly. “The love of my life. He still is, you know. The heart doesn’t forget great love.”

Shelby puffed out a breath. Great love? Let’s see, a father who had run out on her mother when she was diagnosed with cancer, and no male prospects in her own life because of the scars on her legs, arms and back. It didn’t look like any
great love
would be coming Shelby’s way any time soon. She’d have to live vicariously through her brother and Paige if she wanted to experience love.

Shelby cleared her throat. “I came to talk to you about something a little more important—”

Ida’s eyes went wide. “Oh, sweetheart, there is nothing in the world more important than love. Absolutely nothing. Even the good Lord says so in the Bible. He says there is hope, faith and love—but the greatest of those is love.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“There’s no supposing. It just is. You make sure to look for chances to have love in your life. It comes in all forms and at the most quiet moments. Sometimes it tiptoes right on into our lives when we’re being too loud to notice it.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

Ida smiled and picked up her mug. “Was there something else you needed, dear?”

Shelby licked her lips and leaned forward. “I was young, so I might not remember correctly, but didn’t Mayor Ashby start a fund meant to rebuild the church?”

“Oh, was he ever heartbroken when he found out they couldn’t go ahead with plans for the church.” Ida laid her hands over her heart. “It was his dearest wish to see our little chapel standing again. I’ve always been rather unhappy about the fact that Henry didn’t get to see it happen in his lifetime. But he couldn’t convince the church board to keep the land. They were so bent on washing their hands of the building and moving on so the congregation could divide. It was a very sad time for us.”

“So there was an account set up for the church?”

“Not
was
, dear, there
is
one. I advised him to divert the money to another worthwhile purpose, but he just wouldn’t see the reason in that. My Henry was such a dreamer, you see. He held out hope that someday an opportunity to rebuild would resurface.”

“I think we might be able to.” Shelby unfolded the deed to the land the church used to occupy. She showed it to Ida. “My dad passed away recently.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. We weren’t close. We hadn’t spoken in years.”

“How tragic.” Ida closed her eyes for a moment.

“The important thing is we can rebuild the church, Ida. My dad left me the land in his will. I just need to know if there are enough funds, and if I can access them.”

Ida clasped her hands together and rocked back and forth as she stared at the piece of paper. “My Henry would be so pleased. I should have known he’d be right all along. That was his fondest wish. You do know that, don’t you? He’d say this was the happiest day of his life—besides our wedding day, of course.”

“Of course.” Shelby nodded along.

“Paperwork.” Ida shuffled over to a metal filing cabinet that was four drawers high. “Let me see here.” She pulled out a file a few minutes later. “Right here. Yes. My Henry was so brilliant. You see.” Plunking the paperwork on the table, she jutted her fingers to indicate the first few lines. “He set the account up as a nonprofit whose sole purpose was to rebuild the church. That way, some of the greasy-fingered board members couldn’t get a hold of the money and do something silly with it. You know the type—the ones who want to spend thousands of dollars on new street signs so we can look fancy for the tourists.”