Chapter One #2
“Calvary, stop whatever you’re doing.” That alpha bark was Fire Chief Harvey Novak.
The man’s heroics in the face of reckless yahoos torching the forest in drunken revelry and negligent campers with unattended fires bordered on legendary.
Noah planned to exceed his accomplishments by the time he reached retirement age.
His portrait, like his PawPaw’s, would have a permanent brass nameplate regaling his years of service.
“Duty calls,” Noah crooned, lowering his voice to a wolfish rumble the ladies responded to on a primal level. On cue, Cheyenne leaned closer, pressing her slender curves against his hip.
“But… what about hosing me down again?” she whispered, trailing off into a coquettish giggle.
Yeah, that question reminded him why he kept his dating casual and on rotation. “You know my rule. Fighting fires before dousing flames, even for a smoking hot redhead.” When it came to the job, nothing came before putting out fires.
Behind Cheyenne’s desk, Noah heard the hinges squeak before the door handle made an angry thunk against the wall.
“Calvary. Now.”
“Sir. Yes, sir. Just saying good morning to the lady.”
“Noah,” Jimmy yelled above Beyoncé’s melodic “Jolene” flowing through a Bluetooth speaker.
“We’re all expecting a state-of-the-art training facility for shouldering your big head while short-staffed.
” With the budget constraints, Noah had mandated the team cross-train to cover a broader range of tasks around the station.
“Yep.” He trotted past the file cabinets. “I know. Equipment upgrades. A second engine. Public safety offices.”
Jimmy grinned up at him. “That’s right. So go in there and work your Noah Calvary magic.”
“You know I will,” he tossed over his shoulder before taking the steps up to the captain’s domain. Noah’s heart swelled with pride and anticipation as he surveyed the office that, in a few weeks, would be his to command. He had come a long way since Service County High.
“Mornin’, sir.”
“Noah, take a seat.” Harvey Novak’s voice matched his stature, big and full-bodied.
He’d been a star quarterback, like Noah.
Attended Bluefield College close to the West Virginia–Maryland border, like Noah.
After hiring on at the fire station, he’d married his high school sweetie, Marilyn, and built a sprawling ranch home on a half dozen acres right there in Service… unlike Noah.
“I prefer to stand,” Noah said, surveying the wall-mounted photo ops, thinking about how he would change the drab little office into his new throne one day.
The captain pointed a beefy finger at one of the two leatherette chairs in front of his battered metal desk. “That wasn’t a request.”
Noah didn’t take offense. His father has taught him better than to try to upstage a man in his own home.
Until Harvey retired, Noah had to abide by the rules to secure the ultimate prize: his name, gold-stenciled, on the door.
Then he’d control the playbook and players—firefighters, paramedics, fire prevention staff, and administrative support—all his to command.
“Look… ah, I got news.”
“And?” Noah said, relaxing against the chair frame, the thin aluminum groaning under his sinewy build.
“The county sent word this morning. My retirement and your redevelopment chair appointment have been approved.”
“That’s great, sir.”
“Yep, when I retire, don’t expect me to be hiring you on for any more room additions or roof repairs. The missus been busy dusting off the thirty-four-year honey-do list.”
“I appreciate the extra money, Captain. But better you than me,” Noah laughed at the captain’s soured expression. In his off time, he worked in building construction, using the bonus dollars to bankroll the construction of his cabin.
Harvey pinched the bridge of his nose as if Noah had missed the final punchline. “One day, you’ll understand that a woman wanting you around, looking to you to handle things she can do on her own, is the best kind of busy bee.”
Once upon a foolish time, Noah thought he’d have something similar with Rachel.
But she’d rendered his heart a blackened burn pit filled with smoldering ash.
Maybe she’d show up this year, but he had his five years of doubts that she’d draft another well-articulated excuse to stay away.
He wouldn’t dwell on his role in her swift departure from Service and prolonged absence.
Noah crossed his arms over his chest, fully confident that the only role Harvey held that he wanted to walk into involved a paycheck. “My bees know I’m only interested in a bit of honey.”
“One day, you’ll learn the best honey will have a man fighting to own the hive,” he groused, looking over Noah’s head to the door separating the office and the administrative space. Noah smelled the lingering effects of Cheyenne’s fruity perfume on his uniform shirt.
“Chief, you know the Cheyenne thing… I’m not doing anything to encourage her.” At least not anything else, Noah chided himself. But he guessed his boss knew what Noah’s conversations had led to where the lady was concerned.
“Noah, about the chair position request, there’s a—ah, development,” the captain said, twirling a ballpoint pen between his fingers before tossing it onto the coffee-stained desk calendar.
Eager to start his new gig, Noah shifted, pulling his phone from his rear pocket in a flourish. “What time’s the grand announcement? If I text now, the mayor and my family can be here in one shake of a lamb’s tail ’cause two is for losers,” he joked.
“Whoa, cowboy.” The captain ran a hand over his graying mustache. “Afraid it’s more complicated.”
“Why?” Noah stiffened. “What’s up, Captain?
” Harvey Novak wasn’t a nervous man, but the way his gaze dipped to avoid Noah’s direct attention…
What could’ve happened overnight? Noah was the best candidate at the station.
No wife and kids. He pulled extra shifts.
Studied for the fire safety exam and aced every question.
He even rode on the holiday parade float, tossing Tootsie Rolls to kindergartners.
“First, let me say, it’s not a question of your capability to do good work.
But it seems there’s some grumblings about a conflict of interest. There are enough townsfolk concerned with the mayor delaying the clinic vote already.
Now there’s talk of him forming a political coalition to cut the clinic project out of the proposed grant money allocations. ”
“It’s not Pete’s fault. There are plenty of documents that go along with environmental surveys and such. The process takes time.”
The chief sighed. “Especially when he keeps asking poor Bethany for duplicates of the triplicates she’s given him.
He has plans for waterfront development for himself—that much is obvious.
And… with him requesting you by name, there’s talk that you’re his political ace in the hole.
This is a heads-up of protests against you leading the committee. ”
“Protesting against me? This is Service, sir. We don’t protest. We picnic.”
Harvey inhaled. Noah swore in one breath, the man had sucked the oxygen out of the room. Blood roared in his ears. His throat constricted around a cactus bush, tightening his chest.
“Noah, everybody knows the mayor is your best friend. You’re a smart man.
Your friendship with Pete Judelson draws a critical eye from the higher-ups.
He’s been seen talking with the resort developers from Whynot, asking for a mayoral mansion, while our police chief operates out of his auto garage.
People take issue with the two of you working together. ”
“That’s nothing but rumors,” Noah shot back at the implication of foul play by his lifelong friend.
Petey had supported Noah on and off the field.
Few appreciated Petey’s thirst for success.
Noah did. Heck, he’d worked on Pete’s campaign, helping to rally enough votes to earn him the mayoral seat.
Long live the tag team. “I’d point out that there is a designated space for official police matters.
” Noah held his voice steadier than his emotions.
As a lifelong resident of Service, he resented the very idea that he had anything but the town’s best interests in mind.
“Kinda hard to be tough on crime when a bunch of four-year-olds are singing ‘Baby Shark’ for story time on the other side of the wall.”
Kanaan, Service’s only paid law enforcement officer, was Noah’s first cousin. He had a two-room office, half of which was a holding cell between the library and the post office, down in the town mall.
“Mayor Judelson has a relationship with skirting this agenda over what’s best for the town. The battalion chief wants to make clear to you”—Harvey met his eyes—“if there’s the appearance of any impropriety, at any point in the process, you could get your walking papers.”
“Fired?” Noah shot to his feet; his muscles coiled too late for the strike. “I’ve poured my sweat into this firehouse since I was sixteen years old. I’m practically an institutional pillar.”
The captain stared at him, slack-jawed, unimpressed with Noah’s declaration.
“You’re a… pillar. Noted,” he continued, but a hint of amusement entered his tone.
“As I was saying, the pillars-that-be won’t tolerate a scandal that links back to this department.
If you accept the position, make sure you focus on why you’re there.
Advocate for the station and keep your nose clean.
It will require strict adherence to the rules as defined by the grant and propriety. ”
A knot formed in Noah’s gut. Rules and playbooks, he understood.
But propriety wasn’t his leadership strength.
He paced the length of the room. With his long legs, six steps later, he retraced his path.
Understandably, the captain, knowing Noah’s behavior when stressed, kept quiet. A man respected a man’s time to think.