Fan the Flames by Katie Ruggle Page B

noise of the truck engines made it impossible to hear anything quieter than a yell.
    Rory climbed out of the cab, jumping from the bottom step to the ground. Her feet slipped on the packed snow when she landed, and she had to grab the open door to catch her balance. As soon as she was stable again, she glanced around to make sure no one had seen her almost bite it. To her relief, everyone was focused on setting up the tank or connecting hoses to valves on the trucks.
    She carefully made her way to the rear of the tender, just as Ian opened up the back, allowing water to pour into the portable tank.
    â€œWe’ll be pumping the water from the tank to the engine,” he yelled over the noise. “Then pumping it from the engine to the tender.”
    Eyeing the setup, Rory frowned. “That seems…pointless.”
    He flashed his single dimple. “At a real call, we’d send the water from the engine to the fire, but there’s no point in wasting water on an exercise.”
    Opening her mouth, Rory was about to ask another question, when a sharp whistle from the chief interrupted her. He was trotting toward them across the parking lot.
    â€œGot a call,” he shouted. “Pickup versus elk on Highway Six, mile marker one-seven-four. Unknown injuries, unknown damage. Higgins and Lowe, stay here for cleanup. The rest of you, it’s go time!”
    â€œCome on,” Ian said, jerking his head at Rory as he and all but two guys hurried back toward the station.
    â€œMe?” she asked, but obviously not loudly enough, since his quick strides didn’t pause. She rushed after him, catching up when he reached the door. Ian held it open, and she ducked inside. “You want me to go?”
    â€œYes. Grab one of those blue helmets from that shelf and meet me at Rescue Two.” He pointed at one of the smaller trucks.
    Once again, her childhood drill training had her hurrying to grab a helmet and rush to the passenger side of the truck he’d indicated. Steve joined her, so she slid to the middle seat and buckled her seat belt.
    â€œReady for your first call?” Ian asked.
    â€œNo.”
    He laughed as he eased the truck through the open overhead door. “The blue helmet means you’re new. The scene commander won’t ask you to do anything hard.”
    Suddenly feeling fond of the blue hard hat she was clutching in her lap, she pulled off her stocking cap and exchanged it for the helmet, buckling the strap under her chin. As Ian fell in behind the chief’s SUV, Steve reached in front of her and flicked a few switches, turning on the overhead lights and the siren.
    The sudden wail made Rory jump, and Ian turned his head to grin at her before returning his attention to the road in front of them. She eyed him with interest. This was a different Ian from the one she’d thought she’d known. It was as if one of the switches on the truck’s instrument panel had turned a light on inside him. Ian looked more alive than she’d ever seen him.
    Once they turned onto the highway, the truck picked up speed—a lot of speed. Rory was tempted to grab something and hold on, but the only things close enough were Ian and Steve’s thighs. She flattened her gloved hands over the tops of her own legs.
    â€œFun, huh?” Ian sent her another smile, and she could only blink at him, too focused on how they were hurtling through the darkness to think of an answer.
    Steve reached in front of her again, this time to grab the radio mic. There had been almost constant chatter coming from the radio, but Rory could catch only the fifth or sixth word. She wondered if interpreting radio-speak was an acquired skill.
    As Steve gave their location, the brake lights on the chief’s SUV lit. Ian slowed the rescue truck, and Rory got her first glimpse of the scene. A light-colored pickup with a crumpled front end and cobweb-cracked windshield sat diagonally across both lanes, and