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A fire scene.
Two minutes later, the background noise began to recede as she spoke again. “Sorry. I’m at a fire.”
“I can tell. You want me to call back later?”
“No. I’m getting into my car. It will be quieter there, and I could use a break.” A few moments later, a door banged and all extraneous noise ceased. “That’s better. What’s up?”
“I wanted to let you know I’m done with my part of the list. I’m sorry to say there wasn’t a match.”
“Dang.” Her frustration came through loud and clear.
“I assume you haven’t had any luck, either?”
“Not yet. I have two more jurisdictions to contact. I was hoping to finish this week, but we’ve been slammed with fires. And since I doubt my counterparts would appreciate me interrupting their weekend, I won’t be able to get back on it until Monday.” She blew out a breath and switched subjects. “How’s your grandmother doing?”
“Improving. Thanks for asking. She’s also three-fourths finished with her course of radiation as of today. We’re celebrating tonight—dinner at her favorite restaurant if she’s not too tired.”
An invitation to join them hovered on the tip of his tongue, but that was crazy. The odds Bri would accept were infinitesimal. And if by some chance she did, Nan’s romantic fantasies would mushroom. Besides, hadn’t he vowed to maintain alow social profile until Nan was out of the woods and he was settled into his new job?
Yes.
So asking Bri out was a bad idea all around, even if the temptation to throw caution to the wind was strong.
“A celebration dinner sounds lovely. I hope you both enjoy it.”
“Thanks.” He doodled on the notepad in front of him. “What’s on your schedule tonight?”
She snorted. “The way this scene is going, I’ll be shoveling soot and sifting ash until long after dark. Call me Cinderella, with no ball to go to afterward.” Despite her attempt at humor, her words were etched with weariness.
Not surprising.
In addition to the demands of her busy job, she’d been dealing with all kinds of hassles on the personal front this week.
“Not a fun Friday night.”
“Goes with the territory. I didn’t sign on for this job expecting a barrel of laughs.”
“Why did you sign on?” The question popped out too fast to restrain, and he grimaced.
Bad move. She’d shut down, like she always did if he—
“Sometimes I wonder about that myself.”
At her pensive tone and candid admission, he stopped doodling.
Was that an invitation for further discussion on the topic? Might she be more comfortable talking about nonwork subjects on the phone rather than in person? Safety in distance and all that?
Only one way to find out—and it wasn’t as if he had much to lose by trying. Worst case, she’d shut him down.
So what else would be new?
“Do I detect a hint of regret about your career choice?” He kept his manner conversational.
“No.” Her firm response was immediate. “No regrets. Thework is satisfying. All my jobs have been satisfying. It’s just kind of disheartening that I have so little to show for everything I’ve done. My brother even felt compelled to offer me a loan this morning. Sweet, but depressing.” She sighed. “Sorry. You caught me at the end of a long and trying week. I shouldn’t dump on you.”
“Don’t apologize. If you find someone with a willing ear, take advantage of it. Venting is healthy. And I hear you about income issues. Firefighting isn’t the highest-paying profession, especially if you live in a smaller town or more rural part of the country. Is that where you worked out West?” He braced, waiting for her to change the subject.
She didn’t.
