For Iliseâencourager, brainstorm partner, friend
A special thanks to my friends,
Becki Reeder and Joe Reeder, Firefighter/EMT with Bay County Fire Rescue who are so generous with their time and expertise. As usual, Joe tells it like it is and then I make up stuff that goes along with my story.
It was great fun working on this project
with authors Shirlee McCoy, Valerie Hansen, Rachelle McCalla, Lynette Eason and Terri Reed. A special thanks goes to our editor, Emily Rodmell, who had the unenviable task of keeping us all in line!
Special thanks and acknowledgment to
Stephanie Newton for her contribution to the Fitzgerald Bay miniseries.
ONE
Fiona Cobb sliced open a box of books in the storage room of The Reading Nook. This was the last box, and by the clock on the wall, she had exactly twelve minutes before she had to leave to get her son to school.
Thankfully, Betsie, who owned the Sweet Shoppe two doors down, had stopped by half an hour ago to see if Sean wanted to taste test her new cinnamon rolls. Her son had bounced out of the storeroom after Betsie with a constant stream of conversation, their two dark heads nearly touching as he pulled Betsie close for a six-year-old secret. Quite the ladyâs man, her Sean. Fiona shuddered as she imagined what life would be like at sixteen.
Ah, well, with four brothersâthree of them copsâand a passel of cousins who were firefighters, she had plenty of experience with alpha males.
Fiona loaded her arms with the stack of books on gardening in preparation for the Happy Diggers Club meeting. In April in Fitzgerald Bay, everyoneâs mind would be turning to spring flowers, even if they were still buttoning up their winter coats in the early morning hours.
In fact, someone nearby must be burning a fire this morning to take the chill off. She carried the books to the round display table near the front window. The Happy Diggers tended to be early and she wanted them to have plenty of books to browse throughâ¦and buy on their way out.
She glanced at her watch. Betsie had saved her skin again. Five minutes until she had to pick up Sean to walk him to school. Maybe enough time for one more stack of books?
If possible, the smell was even stronger back here in the storeroom. Most people loved a fire, but for Fee, a burning fire wasnât cheerful and the aroma of smoke wasnât reassuring. All it did was remind her of what sheâd lost. A husband, Seanâs daddy, a happy united family.
She looked up. A curl of smoke came through the vent in the ceiling. For a few seconds, she stared at it, frozen.
Smoke in the vent meant fireânot the warm your hands kind of fire, but real life-stealing fire.
Fiona grabbed her cell phone, pressing the numbers 9-1-1. She ran out the back door, looking both ways down the back alley. Smoke poured through the seams of the building over the Sweet Shoppe. She ran down the alley, toward the back door. Oh, dear God, please, not again. Please.
â9-1-1, whatâs your emergency?â
âFire. At the Sweet Shoppe on Main Street. I think there are people trapped inside.â More smoke swirled in the alley behind the confectionery as she hung up the phone.
âSean!â She pounded on the door. She couldnât hear anything. âBetsie!â
A faint yell came from inside. Oh, God, no. They were still in there. She reached for the door handle. It wasnât hot, but the door wouldnât budge. She pulled again, putting her foot against the wall on the other side. It wasnât moving. âBetsie!â