The December Market (Shelter Springs #2)

6

“You’re not supposed to be here. I thought we agreed you would be off work until after the new year.”

Rafe fought down a shudder. He had spent three days watching daytime television and slowly going a little stir-crazy from the enforced inactivity.

He tried not to glower at his fire chief—and friend—Mike Bennett.

“I’m fine. Really. I can go back to work anytime. It’s just a dumb cast. No problem at all.”

“Maybe not for you, but the department has a strict policy that any job-related injuries have to be completely cleared by a doctor before you can return to active duty. Your doc said at least three weeks.”

Rafe knew himself well enough to be completely certain that wouldn’t work for him. He had adult ADHD, unmedicated, and needed to stay busy. He knew he couldn’t endure sitting around for even a few more days.

“There has to be something I can do. I can work the phones, teach a couple of classes, do some first aid training. Whatever you need.”

Mike shrugged. “We finished our final first aid class of the year last week and we don’t have another one scheduled until January. Remember, last year we figured out nobody wants to sign up for CPR or first aid training while they’re busy with the holidays.”

“Come on. There has to be something I could do. I don’t care what. I can deep clean the station kitchen or organize files or something. I can’t stand doing nothing.”

His friend looked at him with compassion. “I get it. I’m the same way. But rules are rules. The mayor would chew my butt from here to Haven Point if I put you back on the schedule. And you know how fond my wife is of that particular part of my anatomy.”

Rafe managed to hide his wince at this. Mike was fifty years old and while he was built like an ox and perfectly capable, always passing his annual physical, his wife’s delicious cooking had added on a few love handles over the years.

“I know how shorthanded things get around here in December. People take year-end vacation time, there are more bugs going around. You can’t afford to lose me for three weeks or more. I want to work and I’m totally capable of it.”

“I know that and you know that. Unfortunately, we don’t make all the decisions. The city has to protect itself.”

Mike glanced down at his desk and his expression suddenly lit up in a way that filled Rafe with foreboding.

“There is one thing I’m willing to consider letting you do, but I know it’s a job you typically try to avoid.”

“What’s that?” he asked warily.

Mike held up a festive red and green brochure for the Shelter Springs Holiday Giving Market. “Usually, your cousin Izzy, Jordan Foster or Tyler Jenkins sign up to handle the first aid station at the market. But this year Jordan and Tyler are taking those classes in Boise for their paramedic certification so they’re out. Izzy can’t do it by herself, as much as she likes the overtime. I was just about to send out an email asking if anybody else wanted to volunteer. We need at least one EMT or paramedic on hand at all times.”

Oh man. He would almost rather deep clean the station bathrooms than have to sit all day, every day at the popular town market that drew visitors from across the region.

The market was a big deal around town and in his family. Not only did Izzy always work the first aid station but his sister-in-law Crista typically had a booth there, selling her lovely watercolors. His mom helped her out as often as she could get away from her salon.

He looked at the brochure as if it were a rattlesnake. “The market. Seriously? Don’t you have anything else?”

“Not that I’m willing to let you do with a cast on your arm. Even that is pushing it. If we weren’t so shorthanded, I wouldn’t consider letting you do even that much.”

Though Rafe couldn’t believe he was even considering it, he really hated the idea of sitting at home throughout most of December. He would even rather stay occupied by working at the community Christmas market, where at least he would be doing something more than bingeing Netflix shows he really didn’t care about.

“Fine,” he said, before he could talk himself out of it. “I can help out at the market.”

Yeah, the job would still involve a lot of sitting around, but people-watching was generally more entertaining than staring at a screen, and at least he might have the occasional twisted ankle or paper cut to deal with.

“Oh good.” Mike look delighted. “Izzy will be happy to hear that. She’s in charge of coordinating schedules. Let her know I’m adding you to the rotation. The market is open for over two weeks this year, from this coming Friday to the Saturday before Christmas. It opens at noon and ends at nine each night, Monday through Saturday, closed on Sunday.”

“That should work. I can get Isaac off to school in the mornings and maybe he can hang out with my dad or one of his friends in the afternoon and evening.”

Mike frowned with sudden misgivings. “Are you sure you’re up to this? What if someone has a heart attack or something? It’s not easy to do CPR with one hand.”

“You can, though. One hand is better than nothing if someone needs emergency help. Also, I’ve taught CPR classes long enough to know that you should only use one hand on a child. Plus I assume I’ll have a defibrillator available, which is better, anyway.”

Mike gave him a long look, then finally sighed.

“You’re a stubborn cuss, Rafe Arredondo. Has anybody ever told you that?”

Rafe thought of all the teachers who had been ready to pull out their hair with his energy level and his poor sainted mother, who had basically sat with him night after night throughout elementary school to make sure he finished his homework.

He smiled. “I’m well aware. Thanks, Mike. I owe you.”

“I’m not sure if I’m really doing you a favor.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” he said, sincerely hoping that was true.