All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(62)

Still, she couldn’t figure out what to do. Should she look at him? Not look at him? Even standing there, blowing the whistle, made her feel self-conscious.

“Next up,” she yelled. “Get ready.”

Clay waited by the start line. He wore shorts and a cropped T-shirt—one that exposed his sculptured abs. Charlie knew exactly how that part of his body would feel against her fingers. She also knew the sensation of him filling her with every deep, passionate stroke of his—

“Charlie?”

“Huh? Oh. Right.” She blew the whistle and Clay took off. Damn.

She managed to start the stopwatch and then glanced at his progress. Before she could decide if she should watch him or not, her cell rang. She pulled it from her pocket and glanced at the screen.

Her mother.

Dominique had been calling every day. Charlie had been avoiding the calls. This time was no different as she pushed the ignore button and started to slide her cell back into her pocket. It rang again.

“Give me a break,” she muttered, looking down at the screen. Only it wasn’t her mother’s New York number. Instead it was the 911 dispatch operator.

“What?” Charlie barked, knowing she wouldn’t be contacted unless there was a problem.

“Brushfire by the campgrounds at the north end of town.” She detailed the location. “Equipment is in place. Can you get there?”

Charlie thought about how long it would take her to get to the station for her gear and then to head to the campgrounds. “Twenty-five minutes,” she said, waving her volunteers in.

“There’s a fire,” she said. “I have to go. If you want to come, you may, but only if you abide by my rules. Number one, stay the hell out of the way.” She listed the rest of them quickly, heading to her truck as she spoke. “If anyone breaks a single rule, you’ll be out.”

She got into her truck and had already left the parking lot before any of the others even had their keys out. As she drove, she thought about calling Clay. Telling him this was a time to stay in the background. But her promise to help had only extended to giving him a fair shot at proving himself. She wasn’t going to do more than that. Not unless she was willing to do the same for everyone else.

* * *

WHAT SURPRISED CLAY most about the fire was the sound. He’d expected the heat and smoke, but not the volume. There was the crack of trees heating, the roar of the flames themselves. The rush and hiss of water, the calls of the firefighters. Pumps rumbled, nozzles clinked. Controlled chaos reigned in a hell storm of noise.

He and the other trainees gathered together behind the three engines. As ordered, they observed without getting in the way. Clay had been doing his homework and was able to place each firefighter with his or her station by the numbers. Despite the gear they wore, he recognized a few of them. Charlie was easy to spot. She was tall and commanding as she barked out orders.

He returned his attention to the fire, aware of how the smoke had changed from black to gray, indicating the firefighters were gaining control. When the front line shifted, the volunteers moved, as well, careful to stay out of the way.

Captain Fargo yelled for a two-inch hose. Clay was by the rig. He quickly grabbed it and handed it to the woman who came running to take it, then he stepped back.

The afternoon was clear and warm, the sky blue around the billowing smoke. To the left, a tree exploded sending sparks flying. Grass by a picnic table ignited.

“Shovels,” Clay yelled, grabbing two in each hand and passing them out. “This way.”

He hurried toward the burning grass and started piling dirt on the flames. The others followed, doing the same. In less than a minute, the fire was out.

“Look around,” he told them. “Check for other hot spots, but stay out of the way.”

The other two guys glanced at each other, then shrugged. The rest of them simply did as he instructed. They checked in a widening circle and put out a pile of smoldering leaves. When they were sure the rest of the area was secure he collected all the shovels and returned them to the rig.

Captain Fargo came up to him and grabbed his arm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

“There was a grass fire.” He pointed to the shattered trunk of the once-tall tree and explained what had happened. “We went out twenty yards and checked for hot spots. We found smoldering leaves and covered them with dirt. Now I’m putting the shovels back so they’ll be ready when you need them.”

The captain stared at him, her eyes boring into his. “Good work,” she said at last. “Now stay out of the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The captain’s eyebrows rose, then she shook her head and she walked away.

* * *

AT THE STATION, Charlie walked around the engine and confirmed that everything was back in place. Michelle Banfield walked up.

“You know this isn’t your shift.”

“It’s still my rig.”

“Not when you aren’t working.”

“Details.”

Olivia Fargo strolled up. “That was exciting. The preliminary investigation suggests idiots caused the fire.”

Michelle groaned. “Let me guess. They walked away from their fire without making sure it was out.”

Olivia shrugged. “It looks like it. We’ll know more in a few days. Thanks for coming in. We needed the help.” She turned to Charlie. “You brought the volunteers.”