Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
M adeline pulled into the gravel parking lot of Jubilee Firehouse #2, her car crunching to a stop as she turned off the engine. In the passenger seat, she looked at the large paper bag she had brought with her. It was stuffed to the brim with sandwiches and chips, and a jug of sweet tea from one of the local restaurants was balanced precariously on the edge of the seat.
Her heart fluttered at the thought of seeing Brady, as it always did. It wasn’t like she didn’t see him all the time, but every time she did, it did something to her. Her ex-husband never made her feel that way. She was thankful to get to feel this kind of love at least once in her life.
She grabbed the bag and the jug of tea, juggling them awkwardly as she walked up the concrete steps and pushed open the glass door. The scent of stale coffee and faint traces of smoke greeted her as she walked inside, and the sound of hearty laughter echoed down the hall.
The firehouse was simple. Its walls were lined with framed photos of past crews, and a giant whiteboard displayed the day’s schedule. She followed the sound of voices to the kitchen area, where a group of firefighters sat around a table, making jokes and ribbing each other like brothers—because they were.
Brady was among them, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. A grin lit up his beautiful face as he listened to one of the men tell a story. His deep and genuine laugh sent warmth through her chest.
“Hey there, boys,” Madeline said, walking into the room. “I come bearing gifts.”
The men turned toward her, their expressions instantly brightening.
“Well, look who it is,” one of them called, standing up and grabbing the bag from her hands. “Madeline, you’re a saint. Brady, you’re one lucky guy.”
“Don’t I know it,” Brady said, standing and walking over. He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, his hand resting on the small of her back. “What’s all this?”
“Well, I thought y’all might could use a good lunch. I made some chicken salad sandwiches, brought some chips, and there’s sweet tea, of course.”
“You didn’t have to do all that,” Brady said.
“I wanted to. I know you guys have been working hard on all of these brush fires. I’ll be glad when we get some well-needed rain.”
The crew wasted no time diving into the food, passing around the sandwiches, and pouring cups of tea. Madeline stood back and watched as Brady effortlessly bantered with his co-workers. He seemed so at ease here and had so much camaraderie, and she was glad because when he worked at the farm, he was often alone doing all of those tasks, and it was a lot.
Brady needed friendships, and he had lots of them. Everyone loved him. She couldn’t think of anyone in town who had ever said a bad word about him, but they probably wouldn’t say that to her anyway, given that she was his biggest fan.
Beneath her smile, as she watched them, was a knot of worry that twisted in her stomach. He’d been spending so much more time here lately because of the growing number of calls from the unusually dry weather. Every time he suited up and climbed into a fire truck, her heart clenched in fear.
“Madeline,” one of the men said, “you make a mean chicken salad sandwich. Brady, you better hold on to this one.”
“Oh, I plan to,” Brady said, winking at her.
She felt butterflies in her stomach. He looked so happy and so strong, but she couldn’t shake the unease that followed her every time he went out on a call. Of course, she had never really told him that—not in so many words. She never wanted to take something from him that he enjoyed, that he felt called to do. That wasn’t right. She would hate if anyone had ever told her to stop writing books.
The laughter died down, and the men were busy cleaning up, so Brady walked over to her, a knowing look in his eyes.
“You’re quiet,” he said, his voice low. “What’s on your mind?”
She hesitated. “I’m just so worried about you. You’ve been here so much lately, and with all these fires happening, I can’t help but think about all the things that could go wrong.”
His expression softened, and he reached for her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles.
“Madeline, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know what I’m doing.”
“I know that,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “But knowing how to do something doesn’t make it easier. I mean, every time I know that I’m doing something wrong, it’s?—”
Before she could finish, the piercing sound of a station alarm cut through the air, followed by a dispatcher’s voice coming over the speaker.
“All units respond to a brush and structure fire near 427 Maple Grove Road. Residential, flames visible, possible occupants inside.”
The room sprang to life in a way that Madeline had never seen. The men all moved with purpose, grabbing their gear and heading straight toward the trucks.
Madeline froze, her heart racing faster than she’d ever felt it. “No,” she whispered. “This sounds serious. Can’t someone else go?”
He shook his head, his face set in determination. “This is what I do, Madeline. I have to go.”
“Brady, please,” she begged, grabbing his arm. “What if something happens to you? What if?—”
He pulled her aside, out of the chaos of the kitchen, and cupped her face in his hands.
“Now you listen to me,” he said firmly, his eyes locking with hers. “This is my town—our town—and these are our people. And if there’s a chance somebody’s in that house, I have to go. You know that.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded. She could never ask him to be anything other than he was. A strong Southern gentleman, a hero in everything he did.
“I promise I’ll be careful, as I always am. I promise I’ll come back to you.”
Her hands trembled as she reached up to touch his face. “You better,” she whispered.
He kissed her then, a deep, lingering kiss that left her breathless, although it was short because he had to run. She was desperate to hold on to him for just a little longer.
“I love you,” she said as he pulled away.
“I love you too,” he replied, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
And then he was gone, grabbing his helmet and running toward the fire truck. She stood frozen as she watched it roar to life and speed out of the station, its sirens wailing as it moved into the distance.
Alone now, she sank into a chair, her hands trembling as she tried to steady her breathing. The knot in her stomach tightened as she imagined all the things that could go wrong, but she reminded herself who Brady was. A protector of everyone. A fighter. A man who would do whatever it took to keep everyone in his town safe.
But she couldn’t shake the fear.
All she could do was wait, her heart heavy with worry and love.
* * *
W hitney stood inside the entrance of Jubilee Vegan Cafe, holding her clipboard tightly. Her heart raced as she looked around the room, taking in the transformed space. Tables and chairs had been pushed to the walls to make room for yoga mats and meditation cushions. There was a small health station set up in the corner, complete with a blood pressure monitor and pamphlets about mindfulness. Tate’s signature touch was evident with the snack station, where he had colorful platters of roasted vegetables, fresh fruit, and quinoa bites artfully arranged.
She pulled on her blouse, wishing it could calm her nerves. This was her big moment.
“You know, you’re going to wear a hole in my floor if you don’t stop that pacing,” Tate said, stepping beside her with a smile.
She looked at him nervously. “What if nobody shows up?”
“They’re gonna show up,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Listen, I’ve been seeing people read that flyer outside all day. They’re curious, Whitney. Trust me, this is going to be a big success.”
She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to take her own advice about breathing. “Okay,” she said, mostly to herself.
He reached out and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got this. I’m here if you need anything.”
Just then, somebody walked through the door, and Whitney turned to greet her first guests. It was a middle-aged couple walking in hesitantly, looking around with curiosity.
“Hi, welcome,” Whitney said, stepping forward with a bright smile. It occurred to her that she might be smiling too big, and she didn’t want to scare people off. “Thanks for coming to Wellness Night. I’m Whitney Cooper.”
The woman smiled back. “This is such a neat idea. We’ve been meaning to learn more about yoga and healthy eating.”
“Well, you’re in the right place,” Whitney said, handing them a flyer with the night’s schedule. “Feel free to grab some snacks or check out the meditation corner while we wait for others to arrive.”
More people trickled in, and Whitney found herself bouncing between stations, introducing herself and answering questions. Every time she looked up, Tate was there, refilling the platters or chatting with people—a steady and comforting presence through the whole thing.
The door jingled, and Whitney felt even more at ease when she saw Madeline walk in, followed by Clemmy.
“Madeline!” Whitney rushed over, pulling her into a hug. “You came.”
“Of course I came,” Madeline said. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Besides, I needed a distraction. Brady’s on a call, and I’ve just been worrying myself sick all evening.”
“I’m so glad you’re here, then,” Whitney said. “This is the perfect place to relax for a bit.”
Clemmy, who was already looking around the room, set down her yoga mat. “Well, I hope there’s room for an old gal like me,” she said with a wink.
“There’s always room for you, Clemmy.”
“Good, because I need some serious enlightenment tonight. And don’t worry, I’ll be taking notes for the book club. You’ll be the talk of Jubilee by morning.”
Madeline chuckled and nudged Whitney. “You’ve got some big cheerleaders here tonight. Geneva wanted to come, but she’s been a little under the weather with a cold.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll be sure to stop by with some special tea I have for just that sort of thing,” Whitney said.
The room started to fill up, and Whitney’s nerves slowly began to fade. She took her place at the front of the room.
“Hey, everybody,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Thank you so much for coming to Wellness Night. I’m Whitney Cooper, and I’m so excited to share some simple ideas on how we can all take small steps to live healthier lives.”
She looked over at Tate, who stood near the snack station, and offered an encouraging nod.
“So, for our first session, we’re going to focus on mindfulness and meditation. Now, I know a lot of people think meditation is very woo-woo and something kind of out there, but all it is is about being present and giving yourself permission to be in the moment. It’s not about clearing your mind completely because, honestly, that’s impossible for most of us.”
She led the group through some simple breathing exercises. Madeline sat with her eyes closed and followed along, her hands resting in her lap. Clemmy, who was sitting cross-legged, peeked one eye open and smirked when she saw Whitney looking at her.
“Now remember,” Whitney said, “you can practice this anywhere—at home, at work, even if you’re stuck in traffic. Of course, don’t close your eyes if you’re moving. It’s all about finding a moment of calm in your day.”
When the exercise ended, Madeline leaned over and whispered to Whitney, “That was exactly what I needed. Thank you.”
Whitney smiled and then moved to the health station, where she took blood pressure readings for anyone who wanted one.
“Your numbers look good,” Whitney said to a woman in her 60s. “But, you know, if you’re interested, I have some pamphlets here with tips on how to maintain a healthy heart.”
“Thank you, dear,” the woman said. “This is wonderful, what you’re doing here.”
Whitney turned to look out the window for a moment and froze. Across the street in the darkness, she saw her father standing behind the counter of the diner, his arms crossed as he stared directly at the cafe.
“Everything okay?” Tate’s voice brought her back to the present moment.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He studied her for a moment before walking closer. “You’re doing amazing, Whitney. Don’t let anything or anyone make you feel otherwise.”
“Tate, what is this quinoa magic? I need the recipe immediately,” Clemmy called out from the snack table.
Tate laughed and walked to her. “It’s all in the seasoning, Clemmy. I’ll have to write it down for you before you leave.”
Whitney took a moment to compose herself, then moved to check on Madeline, who was chatting with a couple of guests.
“Feeling any better?” Whitney asked, sitting beside her.
Madeline nodded. “That breathing exercise helped, but I just can’t stop thinking about Brady. I guess it was different because I happened to be at the firehouse when they got the call. Normally, he just leaves my house or wherever we are, and I don’t really see the chaos that ensues when one of these calls happens. I’m nervous every time he goes out, but that one just really shook me.”
Whitney placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Let’s try something else. Close your eyes.”
Madeline hesitated but eventually closed her eyes.
“Okay, now,” Whitney continued, her voice soothing, “I want you to picture Brady coming home safe. Imagine him walking through the front door. He’s smiling, carrying some flowers, telling you everything’s okay. Now, hold on to that image.”
Madeline’s lips curved into a smile. “That helps,” she whispered.
“Good,” Whitney said. “You’ve got this, Madeline. He’s going to be okay. Anytime you worry about him, I want you to close your eyes again, take a few deep breaths, and see that image. See his smile, hear his voice, smell his cologne.”
Madeline smiled. “I love the smell of his cologne.”
The night continued with more guests stopping by, sampling Tate’s healthy snacks, and chatting with Whitney about all sorts of things. When the evening wound down, Whitney stood near the front window again, watching as everybody trickled out. Across the street, the lights in the diner were dim, and her father was nowhere to be seen.
“You did it,” Tate said.
She turned to him. “We did it.”
“No,” he said, his voice firm. “This was you, Whitney. All I did was make a few snacks. You were incredible.”
For a moment, the world outside faded away, and all she could see was him.
“Whitney!” Clemmy’s voice shattered the moment as she appeared with her purse slung over her shoulder. “Don’t let this man hog all of your attention. I need to know when the next wellness night’s happening. I’ve got ideas,” she said, grinning.
Whitney laughed. “I’ll keep you posted, Clemmy. I promise.”
“Maybe we can host one at the bookstore,” Clemmy said as she opened the door.
“Maybe,” Whitney said, waving as Clemmy and Madeline walked out and down the road.
“You’re going to change this whole town,” Tate said quietly.
“I hope so,” she said, “but not without a little help.”
“Well, you’ll always have help from me,” Tate said.
* * *
M adeline stood beside her bed, tying her robe over her pajamas. She was going through her regular nightly ritual, trying to forget that Brady was fighting a fire. She washed her makeup off, brushed her teeth, and was now smoothing moisturizer onto her skin. The older she got, the more important that seemed to be. But tonight, everything felt so different
She picked up her phone on the bathroom counter and checked it for the tenth time in as many minutes. No messages, no missed calls. She knew better than to try to reach out. Brady was in the middle of a fire; he wouldn’t even have his phone on him, and he certainly wouldn’t have time to text her or answer a phone call. She sighed, turned off her bathroom light, and stepped into the bedroom. Even though the mountain air outside her window was still and quiet, she knew there was chaos surrounding Brady out there somewhere. The dry weather had made conditions so much worse, and every second he spent fighting that fire was another second she wished he was anywhere else.
She moved around the room, turning off the lights, her mind racing. She answered a text from her mother, who was still in Pigeon Forge, having a good time on her trip. Maybe she should have stayed at Wellness Night longer. Maybe she should have asked Whitney to just spend the night at her house and keep her calm. Being around Whitney and Clemmy had helped distract her at least for a little while, but now that she was alone, she was suffocating under the worry.
Madeline sat on the edge of her bed, holding her phone in both hands. She tried so hard not to let herself fall too deeply in love with Brady, but he had made that impossible. He had torn through every defense she had, and now the thought of something happening to him was unbearable.
The sudden, sharp ringing of her phone shattered the silence, and she nearly dropped it in her lap. Her pulse spiked as she fumbled to answer the call.
“Hello?” she said, her voice trembling.
“Madeline?” a male voice responded. She recognized it immediately as one of Brady’s co-workers she’d met at the firehouse.
“Yeah, this is Madeline.” She clutched her phone so tightly, she was afraid it might break.
“I’m calling about Brady. There’s no easy way to say this. He’s been injured.”
Madeline’s breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to make words. “Oh my gosh, what happened? Is he okay?”
“He was rescuing a child from one of the houses near the fire line. He got the kid out, but a big burning branch collapsed, and he was hit. He’s been taken to Jubilee Memorial, and that’s all I know.”
Madeline felt her knees go weak. “Oh my gosh, I have to go. Thank you for letting me know,” she managed to say. “I’m on my way there.”
Her hands shook as she ended the call. She didn’t even register what she was doing as she grabbed her purse and keys from the dresser. Adrenaline was surging through her, overriding anything else. She slipped on her shoes and threw on a jacket, not even bothering to remember that she was wearing her pajamas. Who cared? She had to get to that hospital as quickly as possible.
Her thoughts were consumed with Brady. All she could see was his smile, hear his laugh, and now the man who had come to mean so much to her was lying in a hospital, hurt and alone. She bolted down the steps and out to the car, the cool night air hitting her in the face, but she barely felt it. She climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and backed out of the driveway faster than she ever had before.
The mountain road stretched out before her, dark and winding. Her headlights illuminated the trees on either side. The tires skidded slightly on sharper curves, and she gripped the wheel.
“Stay calm,” she whispered to herself. “You need to stay calm.”
Her mind raced with every terrible possibility. Was he alive? Was he conscious? Was he in pain? What if this was worse than she could even imagine? For a brief moment, she considered calling Brady’s sister, Jasmine. But Jasmine was out of town with her daughter, finally getting some much-needed time away. She didn’t want to ruin their trip—not unless it was absolutely necessary.
“I’ll just wait,” Madeline said aloud to herself. “I’ll wait until I know more.”
Her foot pressed harder on the gas pedal, the car picking up speed. The hospital wasn’t far now. Images of Brady filled her mind as she drove. She thought about the way he always held her hand when they walked together, the way his Southern drawl softened when he called her “darling,” and the way he made her believe that she could do anything.
“You have to be okay,” she whispered, gripping the wheel tighter. “You just have to be.”
Finally, the hospital came into view, its lights shining like a beacon in the dark. She pulled into the parking lot, barely registering even where she was. She parked crooked, yanked the keys out of the ignition, and threw open the door. As she ran toward the entrance, her heart pounded in her chest like a jackhammer.
The automatic doors slid open right before she ran into them, and the cool, sterile air of the hospital greeted her like a slap in the face. She didn’t even let herself catch her breath. She approached the front desk, her voice trembling.
“I’m here for Brady Nolan. He’s a firefighter. He was brought in after an injury.” She was speaking so fast, she was surprised the woman could even understand what she said.
The receptionist looked calm and professional. “One moment, ma’am. Let me check.”
Madeline stood there, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. Every second she waited felt like an eternity. Finally, the woman looked up.
“He’s in the emergency department. Take the elevators to the second floor and check in at the desk there.”
“Thank you,” Madeline said, running toward the elevators. She pressed the button repeatedly, willing the doors to open faster, and when they finally did, she stepped inside and jabbed the button for the second floor. She saw her reflection on the shiny elevator walls. She was pale, wide-eyed, and wearing her pajamas, which she only now realized.
“Please,” she whispered to herself, “please let him be okay.”
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. She stepped out quickly and approached the emergency department desk.
“I’m here for Brady Nolan.”
The nurse behind the desk gave her a sympathetic look. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re here. Have a seat, and someone will come speak to you.”
Madeline nodded, but she didn’t sit down. She couldn’t. She stood near the waiting room entrance, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She didn’t know how she could possibly keep herself from falling apart. Brady was here somewhere. He had to be alive, but until she saw him until she knew for sure that he was okay, the worry was going to gnaw away at her until she was bits and pieces on the floor.