Sheila ran to the windows that overlooked the front parking lot from the second-story community room at the fire station. Several pickup trucks were parked there now, and the other fire truck siren joined in the noisy assault as it revved up and rolled out of the parking lot.
“Holy cow.” The noise was deafening. It was incredible how fast it was from the moment of the alarm to the time that first truck moved out. No time at all, and now the second was gone too.
The siren carried off into the distance.
It was a good distance to the tree farm from here. She couldn’t see any dark clouds or a glow in the distance. Hopefully, it was a false alarm.
Another fire truck pulled out of the bay below her. Yellow coats and red, black, and yellow helmets raced around on all sides. Probably conducting a quick safety check before departure.
More cars arrived at the firehouse, some of their drivers and passengers getting in the fire truck, others lining up behind it.
The siren moaned, then accelerated until finally the horn honked followed by the steady sound of the diesel engine filling the night air.
With all the vehicles out of the building, finally, the station alarm quieted.
In the hush, she heard the crackling of conversations. She followed the voices downstairs. In the area next to the garage bays, a radio broadcast the situation.
She made out the words “Joe’s Christmas Tree Farm.” She froze. They’d just been there. “Not Joe’s.” She sat, unable to just go back to work, riveted to the garbled radio talk, much of which sounded like a mishmash of numbers and codes.
Her heart pounded. She hoped everyone would be okay.
Memories from the night of the Jacobs’ house fire tumbled through her mind. The devastation and how fast the situation changed. The look in the family’s faces as they watched.
This is what he does for a living. He knows what he’s doing.
Dispatch called in support from neighboring counties.
She sat there with her hand over her mouth.
“Sheila? I thought that was your car down there.”
Sheila spun around. It was Doris. “Hi. I was helping Tucker prep boxes for the food deliveries when the call came in. Is it Joe’s Christmas Tree Farm? The trees? Or the barn?”
“It’s in the farthest field, from what I heard. Lord only knows how that caught fire. Probably kids, or someone homeless trying to keep warm.”
“Right.” Sheila bit down on her lip. “Are you going over to the fire?”
“Not unless he calls me in. I’ll stay here until Tucker assesses the situation to see if there’s anything I can help with. If it’s the trees, the forest, there won’t be much for me to do, except make sure all the communications are followed up.”
Sheila’s mind swirled. No wonder Orene was so insistent on going and taking food to them at the location of the fire. It was hard to just sit by knowing there was something like this going on and not do anything about it.
“What can I do?”
Doris smiled. “How about finish those boxes, seeing as how Tucker won’t be here to finish the job?”
“I can do that. Will you keep me up to date with what’s going on?”
“Sure. I’ll let you know when I’m leaving.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know when I get done.” Sheila walked upstairs, feeling alone in the quiet building. Her nerves tingled. Please don’t let anything happen to Tucker.
She forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Putting the boxes together and marking them was mindless work. It was perfect for this situation.
Almost two hours had passed, and Doris hadn’t delivered any news. Sheila was done. Had been for a while, just sitting there looking at the window, wondering. She didn’t want to leave. At least here she’d know Tucker was okay when he came back in the fire truck.
She paced, watching every swath of headlights that came toward the station.
Didn’t Tucker say that Joe’s farm backed up to Natalie’s property?
She grabbed for her phone. Why didn’t I put that together before? She dialed Natalie’s number.
The phone rang. Sheila prayed everything was alright.
It rang again.
“Hello?” a groggy Natalie answered. “Sheila? It’s late. Is everything okay?”
“I guess so. Is everything okay there? Are you at your cabin or Randy’s house?”
“I’m at Randy’s. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry. It might be nothing, but there’s a fire at Joe’s tree farm. Tucker said it backed up to your property. I want to be sure you’re safe.”
“We’re fine. We heard the fire engine pull out from the station earlier. Thanks for letting me know. We’ll look into it. Randy’s getting dressed now.”
“I have this nagging feeling in my gut. Like something is wrong.”
“Are you at Orene’s?” Natalie asked.
“No. I’m at the fire station. I was helping Tucker put boxes together when the call came in. I’ve been here waiting ever since.”
“I’ll come over and sit with you,” Natalie said.
“No. Don’t do that. You go back to sleep. I just wanted to know you were safe.”
“Are you sure? I’ll come right over.”
“No. I’ll be fine.” Sheila hung up the phone, wondering how long it normally took to put out the average fire. She really had nothing to compare it to. Maybe it hadn’t been all that long at all. The reality of Tucker putting his life on the line struck her. As honorable as it was, it was hard to imagine living with that worry every time the fire alarm sounded.