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Before he could say anything else, one of the other firefighters barked his name.
“Grimes! Think we can get a hand over here and get this fire out?”
Ford gave the guy a thumbs up and looked back at it. “You guys stay right here. I don’t want you anywhere near that fire. Got it?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Okay, Ford,” Hazel assured him.
Then he took off to join the rest of the crew putting out the fire.
* * *
Owen’s ancient Chevy Blazer came tearing up the driveway so fast the tires squealed when he slammed on the brakes. A second later, both doors were thrown open. “Hardin! Oh my god, are you guys all right?” Asher cried as she came running over to where Hazel and I were still standing on the sidewalk in front of the house.
“We’re fine,” I assured her as she yanked us into a bone-crushing hug. “What are you guys doing here? How did you know?”
She pulled back enough to give me a flat look. “You think you can keep something like this quiet in a small town?”
I should have known. With all the emergency vehicles and lights, the neighbors had started to come out in droves, and our tiny, quiet street was full of looky-loos. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been one of them to call my brother. But if Owen knew, that meant...
“Oh no. Please tell me my parents aren’t—” Before I could finish the sentence, my father’s SUV turned onto the street and peeled down the lane. He skidded to a stop a few yards away, his passenger tires jumping the curb and digging massive divots into Mr. Howard’s grass next door.
I pulled my lips into a wince, knowing I was going to have to reimburse him for that. He was a sweet enough old man, and didn’t really give me any trouble, except when it came to his yard. God forbid you step foot on his prize-winning grass—it was literally prize winning. Mr. Howard was the proud recipient of the Yard of the Month award thirteen months running, and he’d bite your head off if you walked on the lawn he painstakingly tended day after day. He took his lawn very seriously, and I worried he may have a stroke when he saw the damage my father had done.
“Where are they?” my mom asked as her gaze whipped around. “Joe, where are they?”
“There, Gloria,” my dad said, his finger stabbing in my direction.
Then her eyes landed on me. “Oh, thank the Lord above. There they are.”
My mother’s housedress billowed behind her as she rushed over to where I stood with the rest of my family.
“You guys, this really isn’t necessary,” I managed to get out right before Mom took my face in her hands and smooshed my cheeks together. “We’re both okay,” I murmured through puckered lips.
“Thank God,” Mom breathed before pulling Hazel and me into a hug even tighter than the one Asher had given us. “Thank God, thank God, thank God.”
“Mom, you’re still in your nightgown,” I whispered. “You’re going to scandalize my neighbors.”
“I don’t care,” she said firmly. “Let them talk. I had to make sure my baby girl andherbaby girl were all right.”
My father came in next, his massive frame actually lifting me off my feet as he squeezed the rest of the air out of my lungs and crushed my and my daughter’s bones together. As soon as he pulled away, he grabbed Hazel and held her tight against him, pinning me with a look. “What the hell happened?”
I rubbed at the center of my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “I’m not exactly sure. Hazel came in and woke me up because the shed in the backyard was on fire. I grabbed her and rushed out here while calling 911. And...” I held my arms out at my sides. “And here we are.”
“Your shed caught fire?” Owen asked, confusion etched into his features. “Do you know how?”
I shook my head. “No idea. They’re still working on putting it out, so I don’t know yet. I mean, there was some flammable stuff in there, but nothing that should have caught fire all by itself.”
Owen came over then and threw his arm around my shoulders. “Well, I’m glad you two are all right. We’ll get answers and figure this out.”
We stood around for a while longer before Ford and his crew began filtering from the backyard, some with their jackets already removed, others with their helmets in their hands. Ford was dressed similar to how he’d been that day at Hazel’s school during the safety talk, and the sight of his muscles glistening with sweat made my mouth water.
“Ford,” Owen called, lifting his hand high in the air.
Ford glanced in our direction really fast before looking behind him and saying something to Mike Crawford. Mike nodded and caught Ford’s bunker jacket he’d just tossed to him, then Ford started in our direction.
He and my brother did their macho, manly, half-hug half-back-slap thing. “Hey, thanks for responding to the call so fast.”
