The Firefighter's Vow. Amie Denman

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       CHAPTER TWO

      LAURA WATCHED THE ambulance depart, envying both Tony and Travis their confidence and bravery. When they rolled up at an emergency, they had no idea what they might face. She could almost forgive Tony for lecturing her about jumping in without training. His censure had been arrogant, irritating...and at least partly true.

      Her bare toes were in the sand, and the calming pattern of waves breaking on the beach behind her was as familiar as the sound of her own breathing. But something was stirring her thoughts, not letting her go.

      When the fatal news of her brother’s loss in a forest fire out west had destroyed her family’s peace two years ago, her only thought had been to run away. She hadn’t physically run. Until ten days ago, she had continued to live in the home that still had her brother’s favorite mug in the kitchen cabinet. Instead, she’d emotionally tried to put distance between herself and that day, and she hadn’t succeeded.

      Drinking wasn’t the answer. Burying herself in American History by attempting to write a historical novel had gone nowhere. Dating a man who loved himself far more than he cared about her... Uh, no. He hadn’t been much better than the immature guy she dated after him.

      Only one thing had gotten her out her bed on those dark winter mornings, and it was the idea that someone might need her, that someone was suffering more than she was.

      “Excellent work,” she said to Kimberly and Jordan. “You each get a save on your record.” The lifeguards beamed, their wet hair gleaming in the sun. “Go back to the hut and take a break while I get your areas covered and we reopen the beach to swimmers.”

      Laura followed established protocol, explaining only what was necessary to other beach guests and getting the swimming area back to normal. Laura thought about what could have gone wrong and what she would have done.

      If the swimmers hadn’t been breathing, what would she have done? She had her CPR certification from being the assistant coach on the cross-country team. So she probably could have done something. But she could do more, couldn’t she? She wanted to do more.

      Rebecca’s Aunt Diane was becoming a volunteer firefighter. Just like that. Following an idea and a passion. People reinvented their lives all the time and for all sorts of reasons.

      She had reasons.

      She thought of Tony’s words about training and experience. What if she shocked him and herself by becoming a rescuer? The thought was bold and jolted her from her head to her toes. Could she join the fire department? She’d tried volunteering and community service. She’d joined a community group raising money for a food kitchen. She’d spent holidays throughout the school year volunteering instead of sitting at her family’s dinner table where someone would always be missing.

      She had to admit to herself that her activities had at first been motivated by the need to escape that empty place. And then she’d slowly discovered the truth behind the old saying that helping others was the best way to help herself.

      What if she took her volunteer service to a whole new level and became a first responder? As she crossed the beach, she clung to the idea as if it were a valued possession.

      Afraid to even say it aloud, she kept the thought to herself throughout the rest of her long shift, but she mulled it over all day. The idea wouldn’t let go.

      The late afternoon sun had lost some of its intensity when Laura parked her bicycle in front of the Cape Pursuit fire station. She was careful not to block the five massive overhead doors, which were open to reveal shining fire trucks. She had a reason for being there, a solid reason for asking where Tony Ruggles might be so she could get information for her incident report. But she also had a secret fire in her chest.

      At the front of the station, a sign with changeable black letters advertised the upcoming volunteer class. Was that the one Diane was taking? Maybe she should call Rebecca’s aunt and talk to her?

      Those trucks were beautiful. The lights, the chrome, the complicated pumps, the ladders stored along the sides...and the tires. Huge and waist high, the thick black rubber tires looked as if they could plow over any obstacle. The power was intoxicating, and she wanted to learn their secrets. Had her brother felt that way?

      “Hello, Laura.”

      She spun, feeling awkward about her fascination with the trucks. Tony stood, arms crossed, as if she were an intruder in his domain. His dark navy uniform shirt was buttoned neatly, and a silver bar over a chest pocket said Chief Ruggles. Hadn’t he been a captain last summer?