All Fired Up (Green Valley Heroes #7)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

MADELINE

“ W hat the hell?”

I stare at my computer screen, the rows of syntax blurring together as I rub my eyes.

Why is this code duplicated in so many spots? Who wrote this? A trained monkey?

They weren’t trained well, apparently.

I’ll have to spend a while creating a function to refactor it, but it’ll be worth it in the end. The senior developer will have my head if I turn in this project with the code looking like this.

The loud drone of the vacuum in the living room snags my attention, and my lips purse, annoyance at my mom rushing through me. How many times have I asked her to keep it down during the day? I’m trying to work.

As I push away from my desk and grab my headphones off the bedside table, I briefly fantasize about a place of my own. One with complete silence all the time. Decorated nicely, too. I’m a simple girl with simple wishes.

But where would that leave Mom? She already somehow managed to end up on the brink of foreclosure when I was in college. If I hadn’t moved back here and taken over the bills, who knows what would have happened to her?

Thank God I can work from home, because Lord knows there aren’t any web development jobs in Green Valley, Tennessee.

I put my noise-canceling headphones on and settle back in, ready to tackle this code, when my door bursts open and Mom waves a flyer in front of my face, smiling.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, her voice muffled, and I reluctantly take off the headphones.

“Maybe if you stop waving it around, I’d know what you’re talking about,” I mutter. I do my best to push my annoyance away, but some days are better than others. Mom can be an...acquired taste.

“Oh, stop it, sourpuss,” she says, no heat behind her words. “I saw this on the bulletin board at the Piggly Wiggly.”

I take it from her and quickly scan the paper. “Oh, that,” I mumble, a nervous thrill running through me. I saw this same flyer at the library last week. “What about it?”

Mom’s smile grows wider. “Well, it’s wonderful, is all. Your father would be tickled pink at the town putting out a call for volunteer firefighters.”

The familiar ache in my chest at the mention of Dad burns for a moment, then disappears. You’d think after eleven years it’d go away.

“Oh, he’d have so many ideas,” she rambles, and I tune her out for a moment. I’m glad she’s able to talk about him now like this. It’s a hell of a lot better than when she could barely get out of bed after his death. But if someone doesn’t stop her, she’ll keep talking forever.

“Yeah, I saw this the other day,” I interrupt, holding the flyer up.

She sits on the edge of my bed, facing me. “So, are you interested?”

I will myself not to react, even as my index finger finds the loose string at the hem of my shirt and starts twisting. “Why would you think that?”

She gives me a signature Mom look and the corners of my lips twitch at her deadpan stare.

“It’s a volunteer thing,” she says. “It’d be perfect for you.”

I resist the urge to rub at the back of my neck.

“I know you were disappointed you weren’t accepted before.”

I let out a sigh. “That was seven years ago. And Chief McClure was right to turn me down.” I had no business trying to be a firefighter fresh out of high school.

Mom huffs. “He still should have given you a chance. Firefighting runs in your family’s blood.”

I smirk at her insistence. “I could barely do a pushup back then.”

Not that I’m much better now. I think my record is five in a row.

“Well, you can do them now. There are lots of women firefighters out there nowadays. You should try again.”

Not in Green Valley, though. It’s still a boys’ club. And though I do the occasional workout video at home, I have no delusions I’m up to the extreme physical fitness standards of a firefighter.

“Besides, there’s not as much pressure now,” she continues. “It’s a volunteer thing.”

Yeah, I heard her the first time.

She stares at me, waiting for a response, and I internally groan, knowing she won’t give up. “I already thought about it,” I admit. Seeing that flyer last week brought up a lot of old feelings about wanting some kind of connection to my dad again. To do something he’d be proud of. Something he’d dedicated his life to.

“So you’re going to try out?” she asks with glee, as if it’s already a foregone conclusion.

God, she’s relentless.

“I’ll go on Saturday and see what it’s all about. But no promises,” I add when she claps her hands together.

She sobers somewhat. “I think you’ll find a lot of fulfillment in it.” She reaches out and smooths a hand over my hair. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

That ache in my chest flares to life again, lingering. I give her a half-hearted smile and tell her, “I have to get back to work now.”

Her hands flutter and make a shooing motion. “Oh, you and your work. Isn’t that supposed to be a perk of working from home? That you can stop and chat with your mom every once in a while?”

I keep my mouth shut. When the chats are every fifteen minutes, it’s not so much of a break as a second job. I’ve had to start making up virtual meetings just so I can get some peace and quiet for a while.

“All right, let me know how it goes on Saturday. I have my fingers crossed for you.”

I welcome the silence of the room at her departure, my gaze gravitating toward the paper she left. They must be in need of volunteers if they put this out. I dog-ear the corner, indecision warring within me. Yeah, I told Mom I’d go, but that was to get her off my back.

The memory of me, fresh-faced and naive at eighteen, going down to the fire station to ask if they were hiring, returns. Grizz Grady had snickered into his palm, but Chief McClure hadn’t. He’d taken the time to gently explain what the tests were like, with the unspoken implication that I wouldn’t pass. I’d thanked him for his time and gone and cried in my car. It was a last-ditch effort to stay in Green Valley instead of heading off to college, afraid of leaving Mom alone.

Looking back, though, I’m glad he’d steered me away from it. I make great money now as a web developer, enough that I don’t have to worry about Mom falling behind on house payments again. Sure, a part of me still remembers wanting to grow up and be a firefighter like Dad. He’d been in line to be the chief of his own fire department one day. Before he died. Before we had to move to Green Valley because Mom couldn’t keep it together. If not for Aunt Lucy, I don’t know what we would have done.

I push those thoughts aside and stare at the paper again. The fire department’s phone number is at the bottom of the page, along with the line, Call for more info .

Glancing over at my phone, I pick it up, and before I lose my nerve, I call.

Am I actually going in there?

I smooth my palms over my pants, getting rid of the dampness that keeps popping up, and stare at the firehouse through the windshield. The two-story brick building appears simple enough, nothing to be nervous about. Hell, the flowers planted along either side of the path that leads to the front entrance appear downright inviting. But tell that to my churning stomach. What if they laugh me right out of there?

The woman on the phone had been perfectly pleasant, answering all my questions with no hint of dismissal. It had surprised me at first they’d had a female firefighter on staff, until she’d said she was the office manager. She’d told me the only way I’d know if I could pass the physical fitness test was if I tried. It was a diplomatic answer and one I couldn’t fault her for. With too many people sue-happy nowadays, they probably didn’t want to open themselves up to a lawsuit for denying a woman the chance to try out.

Is a part of me looking for an excuse not to try?

Shame rushes hot and heavy through me for a moment, thinking how disappointed Dad would be in me for not giving it my all.

Loud music interrupts my thoughts, and a Ford Mustang pulls into the lot, parking at the end, away from everyone else. I blink, surprised at who exits.

It’s Hunter O’Connor.

Not exactly the hometown hero, firefighter type. I mean, body-wise, yes. There’s no denying that. The guy’s got muscles that definitely don’t exist on me. But his dad and brother are Iron Wraiths, and very much not model citizens. Not the kind of family who becomes volunteer firefighters.

He looks toward me as he passes by and I jerk my head in a different direction, my heart pounding out of nowhere. Did he know I was looking at him? Not that it matters if I was. I’m allowed to look. It’s a free country.

Jesus, why the hell am I arguing with myself about this?

Once he’s an appropriate distance ahead, I force myself to get out of the car and head toward the open bay where a small group is gathered. Chief McClure is next to the gleaming red fire engine, with Grizz Grady beside him. Guess he still works here, too.

Opposite him is Harry, the cashier at the Piggly Wiggly who always tries to make small talk. There’s also a guy in his early thirties I don’t recognize, and Hunter. I avoid all of them and sneak to the back of the group.

“We’re waiting on two more,” Chief McClure says. “They said they’d be here.”

I nod, still not looking, even though I think he was addressing me. My heart is pounding again, sure everyone is staring at me, wondering why I’m here.

I’m not even sure anymore why I am.

Someone sidles up next to me, but I don’t have to turn my head to know who it is.

“Madeline Woodward,” Hunter says in a deceptively soft voice. “What’s a girl like you doing here?”

To be a firefighter , I think, but I don’t say the words aloud. They sound so stupid.

“I thought you’d left this hellhole,” he says when I don’t reply.

I wet my lips as all the moisture recedes from my mouth. “I moved back a few years ago. After college.”

“Hmm,” he draws out. “Willingly?”

I glance at him, the harsh planes of his face, the cut of his jaw beneath the dark stubble, those intense hazel eyes boring into me. Has his gaze ever been on me before? Did he ever look at me in high school? To be honest, I’m half-surprised he remembers me, especially since I didn’t grow up here. He was also a year ahead of me, up until senior year, at least.

An image of the first time I saw him flashes through my mind, him making out with Lydia Marino under the bleachers. I’d stumbled upon them, freezing when I realized what I was seeing, but unable to look away. I’d never seen anything so...passionate before. But when his hand had pushed under her shirt, molding over her breast, I’d snuck away, the two of them none the wiser.

My cheeks heat. Can he tell I was thinking about him? Oh, wait. He asked me a question.

“My mom needed me here.”

He makes a sound of dismissal. “Oh, a do-gooder. Is that why you’re here? So you can save the town, too?”

My cheeks flush hotter as I finally fully look at him.

He gives me a once-over, but there’s disapproval in it, and he smirks. “Can you even lift the hose?”

My shoulders tighten at his rude question. He’s got a point, but who is he to question me outright to my face?

“Can you pass the written tests?” I shoot back before I can think better of it. If I remember right—and I definitely do—he’d barely passed high school. He’d been held back a year and had to graduate with my class.

His smirk doesn’t drop, but something flashes in his eyes.

Two of the Clewis brothers jog up to join our group and Chief McClure claps his hands together.

“All right, guess that’s everyone,” he says. “Glad to see we’ve got some interest from the community in our volunteer firefighter initiative. This is a program I’ve wanted to do for a while, and our lieutenant, Buck Rogers, helped us get some state and federal grants to get it going. He’s not here today, but he will be tomorrow.”

He pauses and looks at the six of us. “Everyone here should recognize me. I’m Carter McClure, the fire chief of Green Valley. Next to me is Grizz Grady, our fire captain. We’re going to outline our plan for how this training will run, and I’m warning you now it’s going to take up most of your weekends for the next couple of months.”

He surveys us steadily, as if taking our measure, and I resist the urge to rub my arms as goosebumps wash over me. “We understand everyone here works full-time, so it’ll be a mix of instruction and skill demonstrations on Saturdays and Sundays. You’ll also be expected to study on your own to get up to speed since we have limited time on the weekends. We appreciate your time and commitment, but we also only want people who are serious about this.”

His gaze lingers on me and Hunter in the back, but I can’t tell if he’s looking at both of us or just one.

Hunter raises his hand. “You need to be pretty strong to do this, right? To carry people out of burning buildings and stuff?”

It’s obvious who his question is referring to as the other men in front of us turn to stare at me.

My armpits grow damp. Shit.

Chief McClure says, “There is a physical component to it, yes. It’ll be one of your final exams.”

Fine. Hunter wants to play that game? I raise my hand. “There are also written tests, right? Testing your math skills, reading comprehension, situational judgment, memory, things like that?”

I already know the answer. I’d done my research.

The chief responds that there are and goes over some of the areas that will be tested, but I’m paying more attention to the way Hunter’s face pales. Whoa. Are the tests that big of a deal to him?

He glances at me, something like shame crossing his face before it disappears and he sneers. He moves away from me and toward the front of the group, leaving me alone in the back.

I cross my arms, not liking the unsettling mixture of guilt and anger brewing in my gut. He’s the one who started it, not me. And I’m not wasting another minute thinking about him. I’ve got bigger fish to fry than Hunter O’Connor.

Namely, how the hell I’m going to become Green Valley’s next volunteer firefighter.