Chapter Fourteen

With a scowl, John clipped his phone back on his belt as Travis wheeled the engine into the station house, shut down the big vehicle, and pocketed the key.

“Still no answer at the Scott residence?” asked Larry, seated between John and Travis.

“No,” John grunted as he opened the large door. It was killing him that he couldn’t leave the station and see Lori. But he didn’t want to talk about it with Travis. Or Larry. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“Maybe she just turned off her phone,” said Travis, obviously bored.

“Maybe.”

“So leave a message.” Travis grabbed his gear.

“I already did.” Two of them. And he didn’t want to make himself more of a pest. He and Lori had been dating now for two weeks, but he still didn’t feel secure in their relationship, though he found himself thinking about her more and more.

“Let’s clean up and eat. I’m starving,” Travis called out from the gear room.

John wished he could take Lori to dinner again. They’d gone to restaurants several times in the past two weeks: halibut at the Idle Isle, steak at Maddox Ranch House, the Fiesta Sampler Platter at Café Sabor in Logan. They’d gone to see three movies—one of them even an action-adventure rather than the chick flicks Lori preferred.

On the previous Saturday, he’d driven her down to American Fork, nearly two hours away, for the long hike up the trail to Timpanogos Cave. She’d held his hand in the darkness of the cave and, when the lights were turned back on, oohed and ahhed over the beauty of both the climb and the cave.

He’d even helped her pull more of those horrible weeds that insisted on proliferating in Charles’s garden.

Silent, John dropped his boots in his large gear bin and stuffed his gloves on top.

It had been nearly two days since his shift began and he’d last seen Lori, and he seemed to be having withdrawals. He’d been at the station house for thirty-six hours. With the day work over, but twelve more hours on his shift, he had nothing but television or reading to entertain him for the evening—unless, heaven forbid, there was a fire. He knew, from last night, that all he’d think about would be Lori and her silky blonde hair framing her perfect face, her black clothes framing her perfect body, her smile lightening his heart.

“You’re mooning around like the Bees just lost their home game to Bear River.” Larry tossed him a hose. “Here. Go wash down the truck to take your mind off . . . who is she again?”

“The blonde with the spider in her venturi tubes.” Travis turned back to John. “You know, you never acted this way with Dawn . . . or with Jill or Trina or—”

“It’s none of your business. That’s who it is.” John’s voice was harsher than he’d intended.

As Larry came out of the gear room, he raised an eyebrow. “A mite touchy, aren’t you?”

John barely heard the banter. If only he didn’t have to sleep at the fire station tonight. If only he was off shift. If only Lori would answer her flipping cell phone.

Larry said, “I bet five bucks on the blonde.”

John turned and the hose hit Larry square in the legs.

Larry jumped back. “Hey! Watch it!”

“Oh, sorry, man,” John said with a grin. “How clumsy of me.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Two can be as clumsy as one.” With a matching grin, Larry grabbed Travis’s hose, and soon all three of them were in the fray, dripping wet and laughing.

Afterward, Larry said, “Hope no one calls a fire code now.”

John chuckled as he coiled the hose. His earlier tension was gone. Buddies were great.

“Not to change the subject or anything, ’cause you guys know I love talking about women,” said Travis, “but I hear conditions are right for another big burn down in California.”

The California fire four years ago had been a bad one. They’d all volunteered, along with countless firefighters from other states, but it had still taken two weeks to get the flames under control and to save the houses in the fire’s path.

John’s phone burbled. Finally! Lori was returning his call. His heart lifted as he flipped open his cell. “Hi.”

“Hi, John.” A woman’s silky voice caressed his ear, but disoriented him—the caller was definitely a woman, but not Lori. Dawn. “I hope you don’t mind me calling.”

Not sure what to say—he hadn’t exactly broken up with her definitely, just discouraged her, and then he hadn’t called her for weeks after he started dating Lori exclusively—he mumbled something along the lines of, “That’s fine.”

At his strained tone of voice, Travis glanced his way, tilted his head, and mouthed, “Who is it?”

John waved him off and turned away as Dawn continued. “I need a favor. We have a problem with our faucet and I’m not sure what to do. It’s leaking a lot of water. I was really hoping you could help us out.” Dawn lived with her aunt and taught school in Logan.

He’d felt protective toward Dawn for months. Not to the extent or with the strength he felt toward Lori, but he found now that he couldn’t just turn off that emotion. But he also couldn’t give in to guilt or misplaced responsibility now, not when he was pursuing a romance with Lori. An exclusive relationship. He gave the first excuse that popped into his mind. “I can’t leave work, Dawn. Why don’t you call your home teacher?”

“We already did, and he didn’t know what to do.” John could almost see the slight pout of Dawn’s pretty lips as she spoke softly, wistfully. “John, I really need your help.”

At her words, guilt flooded him. Before he could stop himself, he said, “Okay. I’ll stop by tomorrow after work and fix it for you.”

“Oh, thank you. You’re so wonderful. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I can hardly wait. Okay, it’s a date, then.”

Before John could explain that it wasn’t a date, she’d disconnected. With a groan, John put his phone away.

Unfortunately, when he turned around, Travis was right behind him, standing with arms crossed. “That was a woman-related groan, wasn’t it?”

John slapped his palm to his forehead. Twice.

“The blonde or the redhead?”

“Dawn.”

“I’ll help you out, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal.” Travis turned on another hose and wet the station house floor under the engines. “I’ll date one of them while you work on the other.”

John shook his head, picking up another hose.

“Dawn is way too obsessed with getting married, though. How would I avoid getting engaged to her?” Travis mused.

“Like you do with all the women you’ve dated,” called out Larry from the gear room. “Love ’em and leave ’em.”

“Oh, that’s cold, dude,” said Travis. “I just don’t want to let women get too attached to me. Otherwise, I’d break their hearts and how cruel would that be?”

John narrowed his eyes. Perhaps Travis could help him out of this. “Hey, Travis, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal, you might be right. I’d be happy to give you an opportunity to date Dawn.”

“Your kind offer is a little suspect at this moment, dude. What have you gotten yourself into now?”

John tried another tack. “You owe me.”

“Nobody could possibly owe you as much as what I’m afraid you’re about to ask. Come on. What’s up?”

Reluctantly, John told him about Dawn’s request.

“All right.” Travis grinned. “Slight revision to the plan. You go help poor helpless Dawn and I’ll keep Lori busy while you’re gone. There. Problem solved.”

Jealousy struck John hard and fast as he realized Travis was probably exactly the kind of worldly guy Lori was used to dating. “Keep your hands off, dude. Lori might be my future wife.”

Now why did he have to go and tell Travis that? He was glad the other guys had already gone into the station house to change into dry clothes.

“Whoa, dude.” Travis blinked. “You serious?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” John was sounding like an idiot, and an indecisive one, at that. “It doesn’t matter if I am or not. You just stay away from her.”

“Okay, dude, I get the message. Loud and clear.” Travis lifted his hands. “Lori is all yours.”

Travis took a few squishy steps in his wet socks before turning back toward John. “But just so we’re clear, so is Dawn and her leaky faucet.”

John groaned again.

THE GARDEN GURU

Dear Ms. Scott: Do you have any gardening club affiliations? And, if so, what are they? I’m trying to decide if I should join a club. I’m not an expert like you and Dr. Dobson, but just a beginning gardener. I’d appreciate any help you can give me. (Tammy)

Dear Tammy: The Spade and Hope Garden Club in Brigham City is helpful to beginners and advanced gardeners alike. They provide an annual summer garden tour, annual spring plant sale, and informative conversation. You can learn a lot from these knowledgeable gardeners. I highly recommend you attend the next meeting; you and your garden will be glad you did. The annual dues are minimal. For more information, call . . .