Force of Nature Page 4

Gable felt her heart sink. “I’m sorry. That’s a shame.” Of course she’s straight. They’re always straight.

  The radio at her side blared to life. “McCoy from dispatch. Respond accident involving two trucks, intersection Lincoln Road and M-42.”

  Gable keyed the mike as she got to her feet. “Dispatch from McCoy. Responding.”

  “You have to leave, don’t you?” Erin asked.

  “’Fraid so. But hang tight. Help should be here soon.”

  “I’ll be all right. You go,” Erin urged. “But I want to take you to dinner or something soon. I owe you, big-time.”

  “I’d like that. And I’m glad I could help. Take care, Erin.”

  Gable jogged to the Jeep and started to back down the driveway, but paused when she heard the approaching rumble of heavy equipment. She pulled off onto the lawn as two cars and a construction crane appeared in the rearview mirror. The lead car contained two of the veterans on her firefighting squad—Radley Stokes and Oscar Knapp. She quickly briefed them and asked them to keep an eye out for Erin’s cat.

  Maybe if this is a quick callout I can make it back by the time they get her out, she thought as she turned on her emergency flasher and sped down the road. I really want a face to put with that voice.

  Chapter Three

  Eight days later, Gable still had no better idea of what Erin looked like.

  The accident that had called her away that night had taken hours to clear—a lumber truck collided with a Road Commission truck, pinning one of the drivers in his cab and spilling gravel and logs all over the highway. It was midafternoon the next day before Gable arrived back home, exhausted, to find a message waiting on her answering machine. Her brother Stewart, telling her he’d lost half his roof to the high winds.

  After quickly arranging to take some time off, she drove to Kalamazoo to help with the repairs. The damage was much worse than she'd expected and she found herself stuck at her brother’s for a week, working ten or more hours a day. Although she was constantly occupied, her mind wandered on and off to Erin throughout each day.

  Gable missed her.

  It was weird missing her without having a face to put the voice to. She hoped that when they finally met, she’d be able to get past this maddening fascination she'd developed over what Erin looked like. It seemed to be all she could think about.

  You’re being silly. You know she’s straight. It’s just that you really haven’t had a close woman friend in ages. That’s all. And you met under extraordinary circumstances, and had nothing to do all night but get to know each other. Naturally you want to see her face.

  When the repairs were finally completed, Gable was happy to escape the congestion of the college town and return to her remote woodland home. Her ten acres were off a dirt road, surrounded by hundreds of acres of state forest but within easy reach of the two small villages she frequented. Pine River, five miles southeast, had the nearest grocery store, and Meriwether, seven miles west, had the nearest pharmacy, where she worked.

  Erin’s place wasn’t exactly on her way home. It was a good ten-minute detour off her fastest route back from Kalamazoo. But she took the back roads there anyway, as if seeing what was left of the place would somehow preserve her connection with its owner.

  Although the lot had been cleared and leveled, Gable was disappointed to discover that no construction was underway. She nearly stopped at the Blue Moose motel next, convinced suddenly that seeing Erin would put an end to her irrational fixation. But she needed to shower and change before coming face-to-face with the woman she longed to see, so she swung home instead, prolonging the torture.

  She tried on various outfits, eventually settling on jeans, a white shirt, and her leather jacket. She was so nervous her palms were sweating. She brushed her hair until it shone, feeling every bit like she was on a very important first date, though she knew that wasn’t the truth.

  Stomach churning, she headed to the Blue Moose. Once she'd parked in the lot, she took a moment to control her breathing, then wiped her palms on her pant legs before she went into the office.

  “Hi, I’m here to see Erin Richards,” she told the bespectacled older gentleman behind the counter. “Can I have her room number or can you ring her for me?”

  “Erin Richards, you say?”

  The man typed the name into his computer using only two fingers. Who knew what could happen if he hit the wrong key? Clearly, he was terrified. He would look at the keyboard, searching for the letter. Strike it with painful deliberation, then peer at the monitor over his reading glasses to make sure it was there.

  Gable bit her tongue to keep from telling him to hurry. Finally, he announced, “I’m sorry, we have no one here by that name.”

  She stopped breathing for an instant. “Not here?” she repeated. “Was she here? Can you tell me that?”

  He looked back at the computer screen, then called over his shoulder, “Martha! Can you come out here a minute?”

  There was an open door behind him that led into an inner office. After a moment a diminutive woman with gray hair and a ready smile emerged.

  “Hi.” She greeted Gable. “What’s up?” she asked the man behind the desk.

  “Erin Richards. Does that name ring a bell with you?”

  “Yeah, that’s the teacher that was in fourteen for a couple of days. Lost her house in the tornado?” She directed the last sentence to Gable.

  “She was only here a couple of days? Did she say where she was going?”

  “Don’t think so.” The woman cocked her head slightly. “I remember her because her pickup was all caved in on one side, and I asked her about it. She told me what happened. Hey!” Her face lit up with recognition. “I bet you’re Gable, aren’t you?”

  Gable couldn’t help the faint flush of embarrassment that warmed her cheeks. She talked about me! The realization made her a little giddy with happiness. Apparently she'd made an impression on Erin. “Yes, I’m Gable,” she said.

  The woman held out her hand. “Martha Edwards. Nice to meet you, Gable.” They shook. “She’ll be sorry she missed you. She told me how you sat up all night keeping her sane.”

  “I’m sorry too,” Gable said. “Thanks. It’s been nice meeting you.”

  She sat in her Jeep for a moment, drumming her hands on the steering wheel. She didn’t want to go home. She was too keyed up. She decided to drop in on Carl Buckman, a poker buddy who ran a bait and tackle shop when there were no emergencies demanding his attention. Carl was a volunteer firefighter too, as well as the local 911 director.

  The store was only a few minutes away and Gable spent the drive time practicing normal-sounding conversation.

  “Gable! You’re back!” Carl waved as she walked in the door. “Missed a good game last night. I won twenty bucks off ol’ Don Baum.”

  She chuckled. “And did he pay up?”

  “He promised to bring it in today.”

  She laughed harder. “Keep dreaming. You’ll be lucky to get a free haircut out of him.”

  Carl shrugged. “Say—I know what I was supposed to tell you. You know that woman you sat up with the night of the tornadoes?”

  Her heartbeat picked up. “Erin Richards?”

  “That’s her. She called the firehouse a couple of times looking for you. Right after you left, and then again a few days ago. She said she’d keep trying until you got back.”

  She wants to find me too! “Did she say where she was staying?”

  Carl ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t think so. Oh—there’s something else too. After she called the last time, Dick came in with news about that cat of hers you were asking about.”

  “Has somebody seen him?”

  “Sounds like it. Dick was having breakfast the other day at the café in town, and he overheard some woman talking. Apparently her son found a hungry-looking cat in the woods a couple of days after the tornado. Turns out it's gray with a white moustache, just like you said!”

  “Where’s the cat now
?”

  Carl pulled a slip of paper out of his wallet. “Here’s the number of the people taking care of it. The woman told Dick she’d give it back when we found the owner.”

  Gable called the family and arranged to pick up Earl Grey. She’d look after the cat while she searched for Erin, she decided. She didn’t want him settling in too comfortably with a new family. She stopped at the grocery store on her way there and got a bag of dried food and several cans of moist, along with a litter pan and litter and a variety of toys.

  *

  Gable had to admit that Earl Grey was truly adorable; a Groucho negative, all dark gray but for his perfect white moustache. The cat had viewed her with suspicion at the start—and hid under the car seat all the way home. She lured him out with a handful of treats, and he clung to her shoulder crying pitiful mewling sounds when she carried him inside.

  Within a week, he had charmed her in a way she’d thought impossible, sleeping curled beside her every night and wailing loudly how much he'd missed her when she returned home from work.

  Gable did everything she could think of to find Erin. The school where Erin taught was no help. The principal had given her a month off and said only that she’d be back in touch once she got things settled.

  Why didn’t you give her your number, idiot?

  She hung out a lot at the fire station when she wasn’t working, hoping Erin would call. But when another week passed with no word from her, she began to worry that maybe Erin had reconsidered her decision to rebuild. Maybe there was a problem with her insurance.

  She drove by Erin’s place again, and her heart skipped a beat when she spotted the Oakleaf Log Homes truck parked in the driveway. A crew of workers was busy putting up log walls.

  After that, Gable went by regularly to check the progress. The house looked like one of those prefab kits. It sure was going up fast. Sometimes she rode her bike out there—the fourteen-mile round trip was a satisfying evening ride after work. Other times she drove and took Earl Grey with her, riding on her lap. Soon the way to Erin’s became as familiar to her as her route to work. Off her dirt road, she headed south along a paved two-lane until she came to the farm with the twin silver silos, glinting in the sun. Left onto a gravel road for a half mile, then right onto another paved road and over the bridge to the Pine River.

  This time of year, the bridge was usually lined with cars belonging to the fisherman who trying to catch rainbow trout in the sparkling water below. A mile or so beyond was the intersection where she’d encountered the tornado. Gable always slowed and said a prayer of thanks as she passed the concrete slab that marked where the convenience store had stood. When she reached the final quarter mile, her heartbeat would begin to pick up. She always hoped to get a glimpse of Erin, but was disappointed each time.

  Finally, after a month or so, the new cabin looked done from the outside. After that, she’d see the occasional electrical company truck or plumber’s van in the driveway, but still no Erin.

  *

  One Friday evening, two months after the tornadoes hit, Gable got off work early to attend the bimonthly supper meeting of the volunteer fire department.

  Carl greeted her as she stepped into the Plainfield Township fire garage. “Hey, girl, you playing with us later? Going to have a game over at Billy’s.”

  “Maybe,” Gable replied. “Let’s see how late this goes.”

  “You hear the news? Chief Thornton says we have a new volunteer. You won’t be the rookie anymore.”

  “Oh, it hasn’t been so bad. Y’all have been pretty easy on me.”

  “I’d know that voice anywhere,” came a warm, familiar tone from behind her.

  Erin! Gable whipped around.

  Her stomach turned cartwheels and her breath caught in her throat. The sweet and caring music teacher she’d gotten to know just happened to be a damn fine-looking woman with a body to die for. Petite and fit, her arms and legs softly muscled. Round breasts beneath a snug-fitting yellow cotton blouse, and a firm backside accentuated nicely by her denim shorts.

  And that face. Gable thought Erin surely must be Irish, with her green eyes and reddish-blond hair and faint hint of freckles beneath the small wire-rimmed glasses that rested on her nose. She had delicate features, and a ready smile Gable found irresistible. There was an excited rosy blush on her high cheeks and, more than that, a vivaciousness about her—a spark of life and vitality—that was immensely compelling.

  They stood frozen, grinning at each other, for a very long moment.

  Then Erin threw herself at Gable and embraced her tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered into her shoulder, in a way that sent shivers up and down Gable's spine.

  She could feel Erin’s warm, moist breath on the skin at the base of her neck, a particularly sensitive spot. “You’re welcome,” she managed, her throat tight. Her body was acutely aware of Erin’s, pressed up against her, thigh to thigh, breast to breast.

  Erin broke the embrace and looked her up and down. “You’re just like I pictured you! I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch sooner. My mother came and abducted me from the motel. Have you been out to my place?”

  Gable blushed. She couldn’t admit she’d been there almost every day since she got back from Kalamazoo. “Yeah, it looks very nice! I can’t believe how incredibly fast it went up.”

  Erin nodded. “Wasn’t that amazing? It's one of the reasons I went with that company. They promised it would be finished in six to seven weeks. It was one of those kit deals where they build the walls and roof elsewhere, and just have to assemble it on site.”

  “Have you moved in?”

  “I just now got back in town. Tonight will be my first night.”

  “Oh, that’s exciting!” Gable felt her grin get bigger. “And I have the perfect housewarming gift.”

  Erin smiled back. “Let me guess. A weather radio? Fire extinguisher?”

  “Good choices, but mine’s better.”

  “Do I get a hint?”

  “Do I get an introduction?” Carl interjected.

  Gable had completely forgotten he was there. “Sorry, Carl. This is Erin Richards. The woman I sat up with, the night of the tornado.”

  “I gathered that. Pleased to meet you, Erin.” He extended a hand.

  “Carl Buckman here is our 911 director, and my closest rival in our Saturday night poker games. All-around great guy, and fortunately an extremely bad bluffer.”

  “Do all rookies get to play?” Erin asked. “I’m a force to be reckoned with when it comes to five-card stud.”

  “You’re the new recruit?” Someone pinch me. She’s joining the squad?

  Erin rested a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t look so surprised! I got to thinking a lot about what you said, about giving service…and it never being too late to make a difference. And what you do, as a volunteer firefighter, can mean the difference between life and death. I sure know that firsthand.” She winked at Gable, whose heart fluttered in her chest.

  She joined up because of me. Gable felt an elation of pride at the realization. And that means I’m going to be seeing her a lot!

  “Hey, Gable, who’s your friend?” The voice belonged to a ruggedly cute thirtysomething fireman with honey blond hair and a matching moustache.

  “Hey, Tim!” Gable greeted the newcomer with a hug. “Tim Scott, meet Erin Richards. It was her place that got hit the night of the tornadoes.”

  “And you’re the Tim who’s assigned to my zone with Gable, right?” Erin asked.

  “That’s me. Very pleased to meet you, Erin.” They shook hands. “Sorry I wasn’t around to help you out that night. Did I hear you say you’re joining the squad?”

  “Yes, you did,” Erin replied. “I start training next week.”

  “Well, welcome aboard. We’re happy to have you.” Tim was grinning at Erin in a way that Gable recognized. He likes her. The thought made her kind of queasy.

  “Thanks, Tim. I look forward to meeting everyone else.” Erin smiled back at
him, and Gable wished she knew her well enough to be able to read her expressions as easily as she could read Tim’s.

  “Hey, we better get in there or there won’t be any food left!” Carl gestured impatiently for the women to go on ahead.

  “Food? I didn’t know we were eating dinner,” Erin said as she and Gable headed inside. Tim and Carl fell in line behind them.

  “Well, having everybody in the firehouse share a meal is kind of a time-honored tradition in the firefighting community,” Gable said.

  “Particularly in big cities, where you live at the firehouse,” Tim added from behind them. “Even though we’re all volunteers here, we honor the tradition by centering our meetings around a community meal. Kind of acknowledges that we’re family, that we watch out for each other.”

  “Everybody takes turns cooking,” Carl said. “You’ll get your turn, probably sooner rather than later.”

  “Sounds like a good tradition,” Erin said.

  They went through a set of swinging double doors and found themselves in the large rectangular room normally used for training. Six-foot-long folding tables stood end to end in the middle of the room, surrounded by enough folding chairs to seat at least two dozen people. Just about as many as were currently milling about and chatting. An elderly man and woman were covering the tables with large plastic tablecloths in ubiquitous red and white checks, while two more men stood by with a pile of china plates and a bucket filled with silverware.

  It took a good thirty seconds for everyone to notice there was a new face in the crowd, but once they did the room fell silent.

  “Hey everybody,” Gable said. “Come say hi to the newest addition to our group, Erin Richards.”

  Erin was immediately surrounded and introductions made, too fast for her to remember. It had taken Gable a while to get all the names when she joined up too, but everyone was friendly and welcoming. The volunteers were a diverse group, ranging in age from twenty-one to seventy-eight, and included farmers, shopkeepers, bankers, and even a couple of college students.