ChapterSix
BRYCE
Itossed my dirty gear in the back of my truck in front of Station #2, making a mental note to inspect it and clean it when I got home. I was bone tired. The factory fire had been a firefighter’s worst nightmare–unpredictable, scorching hot, and worst of all, people had died. I’d wrestle with God for a long time about how it had played out.
I climbed in and sat in the stillness of the cab for a moment, replaying my role. It wasn’t big; we were just lending aid to another department. I knew without a doubt that I had done what was asked of our team. It just hadn’t been enough.
I slammed my palm against the steering wheel and exhaled. Then, I started the engine and turned off the radio. I wasn’t ready for modern worship music or the party-vibe of the country station.
I focused on the road as I drove home. I winced as my wheels locked up trying to stop. It was still slick at this intersection where the salt trucks hadn’t been.
I slid to a stop and a groan escaped my lips. I flipped my blinker from left to right, adjusting my course to go by Mrs. D’s house. Krystal’s house. I couldn’t go back on my word. I’d said I would take care of her drive, and I meant it.
I’d intended it to be a lot earlier than the five o’clock currently displayed on my dash. I turned onto Krystal’s street and shook my head. There, in the driveway, was the woman herself. Minden’s own Faithmark movie star was shoveling the driveway.
She looked up when I approached, then stood leaning on the handle of her shovel. I flashed my headlights in greeting as I waited on the street for her to move. She waved me off. “Don’t be proud, Krystal,” I muttered to myself. With the plow attached to my truck, it would take two minutes.
I rolled down the window. “Better late than never,” I called out.
“I’m fine. Go ahead and go on home. I’m sure you’re tired.”
“I am. Which is why I’d like to get on with it. Come on, I could be done in the time we’ve been debating.”
Krystal looked around at the driveway and the limited progress she’d made so far on the three inches of snow that had fallen last night.
With a shrug, she took her shovel and moved out of the way. It took about five passes to clear the driveway and then the road in front of Mrs. D’s house. All the while, Krystal used the shovel to clear the steps and front walk. When I finished, I parked the truck and walked around to the passenger side of the cargo bed. I tugged on the lid of the five gallon bucket and grabbed a scoop of rock salt, sprinkling it liberally in front of the mailbox and on the driveway leading toward it.
I made my way toward the front walk, stopping to grab more salt on the way.
“Thanks for doing that,” Krystal said with a smile. “You really didn’t have to.”
“I know. But I said I would. And it would have taken you another hour.”
She laughed. “Yeah, probably so.” She glanced back toward the door. “Want to come in for a coffee or something? You earned it.”
It was tempting. But after a day like today, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t make for good company. I shook my head. “Maybe next time. How’s your mom doing?”
“It was a rough day. She’s grouchy,” Krystal whispered conspiratorially.
I chuckled. “I probably would be too. I hope tomorrow goes better.”
“Me too. I’m praying for good sleep tonight for both of us.”
I grunted. “That sounds like one I need to echo. It was a heck of a day.”
I could see the concern flash in Krystal’s eyes, despite the dim twilight shadows. “Everything okay?”
I shifted my weight and looked back at my truck, thinking of the fire. “Yeah. Just part of the job. Long day.” I didn’t want to burden her with the heaviness of what had happened.
She paused, waiting for more. She must have sensed it wasn’t coming, because she said, “I won’t keep you, then. Thanks for helping with the snow.”
“My pleasure.” As the words escaped, I realized how true they were. It was my default response when someone thanked me.
Retrieved a snake from their garage? My pleasure.
Put out the fire on their deck from their Thanksgiving fried turkey? My pleasure.
Give up my seat for them in Sunday School? My pleasure.
But helping Krystal with the driveway and sharing just a moment of conversation? It really had been enjoyable. Even though I wanted nothing more than to collapse into my bed.
“Good night.” She waved as she headed toward the front door.
“Night.” I watched to make sure she didn’t slip on her way in and then turned away. I tossed the scoop back into the bucket and pressed the lid down before climbing back in my still-warm truck. My phone chimed with a new text, and I grabbed it from the cup holder.
KD: Sleep well.
KD: Let me know when you want to revisit the auction plans.
I sent a thumbs up and set the phone back down, fighting a smile I didn’t want to have. She’d been back in town for a week and she was already under my skin.