Chapter 5 #2
I would tell Jace that Daisy and Mac are helping me prep for my interview, but feelings around here are split over my decision to train and apply for this job.
I already got plenty of heat when I tagged along with Jace to become a volunteer firefighter several years ago.
It’s not like I go on many calls. The role is precautionary.
Dad allowed it since it was an asset to the farm.
But this is a whole other ball game. I’m applying for a county job that would take me away from the farm on a daily basis.
It’s not a secret that I applied, but no one talks about it, as if voicing the fact will make it a reality.
I guess there’s no use getting too upset over anything related to the fire inspector position.
I’m just interviewing. I don’t have the job—not yet.
I won’t ever abandon my family, despite the tug to do more—to carve out a place in the world that’s mine alone. Maybe part of me wants to show a certain rancher I’m not the little girl next door anymore. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t pictured his face when he sees me in this role.
Of course, in those daydreams, he’s on the weight bench in the fire station.
I walk past in a pencil skirt and high heels, a red-lipped smile shooting straight at him.
I lower my glasses to admire him. Then I strut into the captain’s office on official business.
There’s so much wrong with that scenario, I don’t even know where to start.
For one thing, I don’t wear glasses or red lipstick.
And you won’t see me strutting unless I’m out two-stepping in my cowboy boots.
But it’s my daydream, so I get to write it however I want, makeovers and all.
A few hours later, I’m in one of Daisy’s comfortable reading nooks at Moss & Maple.
The historic craftsman home she converted to a bookshop just outside our downtown smells like her favorite cinnamon tea and old books.
Daisy and McKenna are in chairs across from me.
The room is cozy—lined with bookcases with a set of windows on the back wall.
A dark wooden coffee table sits between us—our drinks and plates strewn on top.
My friends think they’re helping me by running through a mock interview. I’m not sure if our practice is doing any good. With every question, my nervous energy multiplies.
McKenna leans closer and asks, “Okay. Tell me again why they should hire you, and don’t you dare say, ‘I don’t know.’”
I breathe out a long breath. “I know this town and the surrounding area. I care about Waterford. And I listen. I’m detail-oriented and hard working.
Besides completing all the prerequisite training, I’ve been a volunteer firefighter for a few years.
I’ll apply all that and more to the position if I get it. ”
Mac looks at Daisy and they both smile.
“Good?” I ask.
“Not just good. Great,” Daisy says. “I’d hire you in a heartbeat.”
“No offense,” I say. “But I think they have to be a little more selective when hiring for this position than you do when bringing on a shop assistant.”
“Maybe I should be more stringent,” Daisy says with a laugh.
She doesn’t mean it. Her workers are like family to her. And they definitely carry their weight.
“You’re a shoo-in,” McKenna says, turning her attention back to me.
“I’m not, but I appreciate your vote of confidence.”
We’re interrupted by a squeal and a giggle. Theo, a rambunctious four-year-old, barrels into the room, nearly clipping a display of love stories before beelining for the coffee table.
“Muffins!” he cries out, eyeing the plates on the coffee table like a miner who struck gold.
“Where’s your mommy, Theo?” Daisy asks the pint-sized interloper.
The bookshop echoes with Rainey’s sharp cry. “Theo Jamison! What are you up to?” Her thudding steps hit the hardwood in quick succession.
But she’s too late. Theo grabs the muffin from Daisy’s plate and shoves the whole thing into his mouth.
Crumbs fly. Chunks land at his feet. His head pops up—eyes wide, as if we just materialized.
He’s a chipmunk, mid-chew, cheeks puffed full—torn between darting into his hole or grabbing up more goodies.
“Yummy,” he manages around the bite, his word garbled, bits of muffin spewing. He smiles, dragging a messy hand across his face, smearing purple-blue streaks of blueberry.
His eyes dart—from me, to Mac, then Daisy.
He’s an adorable disaster.
“Theo!” Rainey bursts into the room, skidding to a stop. “Oh, Daisy. I’m so sorry.” She drops to her knees, scooping up muffin chunks like she’s racing a timer.
I’m stifling a laugh. My ears practically ring with the urge to giggle. Daisy’s lips are pinched. McKenna shakes softly, avoiding my gaze.
“It’s fine,” Daisy tells Rainey, trying—and failing—to keep a straight face.
“Theo,” Rainey says, “You can’t just grab food. You have to say please.”
“Pweeeese,” he puffs out, mouth still overfilled. Crumbs go flying everywhere.
Rainey smiles, shaking her head softly and extending her hand to her son. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Leave the mess,” Daisy says. “I’ll get it.”
“Are you sure?” Rainey asks.
Daisy nods and smiles, ruffling Theo’s hair as she stands.
Rainey takes Theo into the bathroom to clean up.
“I think that’s our sign to close the mock interview,” I say, bending over to scoop up some of the crumbs Theo left in his wake.
“You don’t need more practice,” McKenna tells me.
She stoops down and starts cleaning up with me. Daisy grabs some wet towels and we finish cleaning up together.
I thank McKenna and Daisy, and then leave Moss & Maple, stopping at the grocery and pulling Mom’s list up on my cell. On my way down the bread aisle, I bump into Mrs. Spence, a woman I’ve known my whole life.
“How are Anabelle and Rogan?” I ask, making the kind of small talk that’s second-nature. “I hear Rogan had a great football season last fall.”
“Anabelle’s doing great,” Mrs. Spence tells me. “We miss her, but she’s making us proud at UT. Rogan’s got his eyes set on some D1 schools. We’ll see. He’s only a sophomore.”
She smiles and asks, “How about you, Carli? I heard McKenna’s back.”
“Yes. I was just with her this morning. She was helping me prep for an interview.”
“Yes. I heard,” Mrs. Spence says. “You’re going out for the inspector job. Of course, everyone’s talking about who will get the position. The town will riot if they choose someone else.”
I try not to smile, but I’d be lying if I said her words didn’t soothe some of my nerves. But with that comfort comes a pinch of pressure in my ribs—a quick reminder that if I get the job, the demands on me will double, and half the town will be watching.
“There are some strong candidates,” I say.
“I’m sure there are. But you’re the people’s choice.”
I’m about to thank Mrs. Spence when two men turn down our aisle, filling the space with their defined frames. They’re in station uniforms and both sets of eyes are trained on me.
“Carli!” Dustin practically roars, walking up to me and lifting me in the air as if I weigh nothing.
“You are the people’s choice!” he shouts so loudly I tell him, shhhhhh.
Cody’s just behind him, a soft smile on his face—amused by Dustin’s antics—as always.
Dustin sets me back on my feet and greets Mrs. Spence as if he just now saw her. “I’m with you, she’s got the job in the bag.” Then he turns to Cody and says, “If not, I’ll lead the revolt!”
I chuckle softly, my gaze snagging on Cody’s. He doesn’t look away. Instead, it’s like he looks straight into me, his warm smile melting every molecule as it travels through me.
“I don’t think she’ll need a revolt,” Cody says to Dustin, but his steady gaze rests on mine. His words are calm, deep, certain. “You’ve got this thing without any help from anyone, Carli.”
Carli. Not Chuck.
I talk before my blush has a chance to set my face on fire. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” I look at all three of them and say, “Well, I’d better get going.”
I put my hands to the cart and push forward. Dustin and Cody step apart to make a way for me to pass through between them, but they’re so big I end up brushing against Cody. Electric. Tingles flare down my arm. I can’t even look at him.
I press forward, saying, “Sorry,” as I stride down the aisle.
“Go get ’em!” Dustin shouts after me. “Inspector Buckner!”
I shake my head and laugh softly to myself.
On the drive home, I turn on the radio and crank it extra loud. A smile spreads across my face when I pass the Lawsons’ ranch. I ignore uncontrollable Cody-induced flutter in my chest and belt out the song even louder.
When I pull into the driveway, Dad and Jace are walking back from scraping the barn.
“How was your visit?” Dad asks, his face glowing from exertion and his energy higher than I’ve seen it in a few days.
“Good. Nice.”
I should tell him I was rehearsing for the interview, but we all know it’s scheduled this week. No need to rub salt in the wound.
Jace is already grabbing bags out from the back of the truck. Dad steps over to help.
“You talk McKenna into staying in Tennessee?” he asks.
“No. I don’t know if I have that kind of sway.”
“Sure you do. That girl would do anything for you.”
“It’s not her we have to worry about,” I say. “It’s her fiancé. He enjoys visiting, but I’m pretty sure he’s set on living in Hollywood.”
Dad makes a tsking sound. Then he grabs two bags and heads into the house. I hoist the rest of the bags out of the truck bed and follow behind him. He pauses in the kitchen, bracing one hand on the counter after setting the bags down.
My fingers tighten around the bags I’m carrying. “You okay?”
“Of course, I’m okay. You and your mom need to stop henpecking me. I’m feeling good. Just ready for the warmer weather, that’s all.”
“Spring’s coming,” Jace assures Dad. “Groundhog didn’t see his shadow.”
“You don’t actually believe that nonsense do you?” I ask my brother.
“It’s science. Animals duck back in their holes if it’s too cold.”
“How about leprechauns?” I ask Jace. “Do they see their shadows?”
“How should I know? But I’ll tell you next time there’s a rainbow. How ’bout that?”
“Get me some gold while you’re at it.” Dad chuckles at his own joke.
Jace’s phone buzzes on the counter. I glance down before Jace swipes his cell away.
Cody: You got a minute?
Jace shoots me a look for snooping. I busy myself putting away groceries.
Cody’s on shift. I wonder what’s so important that he’s texting my brother while he’s at work. I turn away so Jace doesn’t see the truth on my face—that part of me wishes it were me Cody would text.