Chapter 3
CADE
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny," Cade chuckled listening to the chatter as the two firefighters were discussing what had to be a joke in very poor taste – bordering on harassment. He didn't want to be known as the town's tattletale or being a poor sport, but this was taking things a bit far.
"Yeah, I heard from Jacob and Rodney that it was said directly to them…"
"Nawwww – seriously?"
"Yup. Apparently, ol' Beary has got the hot-to-trots for the captain."
"Our Beary?"
"Barry Beary's… Beary?"
"The same!"
"Nawww," Jude guffawed, and Cade could practically see the man's goofy smile. "Nawww man, seriously? Shut the front door! Pruitt and ol' Beary? At the shop at the end of town? That Beary? Our very own grease monkey Beary?"
"One person's ‘yum' is another person's ‘yuck'…"
"Well, Beary certainly ain't my yum. Not sure anyone has ever thought of Beary as a ‘yum' – I mean… dadgum-it-all… Beary? Are you sure?"
"Yup. Kinda yucky, if you ask me."
"Dude, you think he swings like… that?"
"All right now!" Cade snapped on the radio, having heard enough garbage being gossiped about him. The last thing he needed was people gossiping that he was interested in the only mechanic in town – and he needed that guy to be able to work on his truck— gay or not.
If the man was interested in other guys, Cade sincerely did not care because that was between him and the Mister Upstairs. All he cared about was if this guy, Barry, could work on his truck or not. And he would prefer to stay out of the mouths of the townspeople.
He'd already found out the hard way how easy (and difficult) dating was in a small town. He had three different dates within the first week of arriving, with three incredibly pretty girls, who, in fact, all knew each other. The gossip had run rampant, and they actually compared notes about him, and it painted him in a horrible light overall. I mean, when there were only a few places in town, a single guy should be able to take his date(s) there – three times – within a week without everyone commenting on it.
"I am never stepping foot in The Local Table Restaurant ever again," Cade muttered hotly under his breath.
"Beary and the captain… you sure, Jude?"
"I'd swear it on a Bible."
"Dadgum…"
"Guys, can we please finish up? It's taking a while, and we still have drills to run back at the station," Cade muttered in the radio. "Let me settle the debate for you both – there is no way on God's green earth that I am ever going out with anyone named Barry. I'm not interested in the slightest, and whatever you heard, rest assured it's very one-sided. So be sure to share that little tidbit with Rodney or whoever else – AND LET'S PUT OUT THE FIRE!"
"Yes, captain."
"Yes, sir," Jude replied. "You gonna tell Rodney or am I?"
"I already texted him."
Cade rolled his eyes and put his head down in his hands in sheer frustration. The nitwit was texting someone while working on a fire? No wonder the town needed a captain for the fire station. The other one probably quit out of sheer frustration!
How did Reese or Chase do this and stay sane? He thought wildly, looking over his shoulder to see that the engineer, nicknamed ‘Mayberry' was on his cell phone too. He could feel his blood pressure rising almost like one of those cartoon thermometer's where the tiny bulb exploded at the end – but that would serve no one except feed the gossips a bit more fodder to feast on. Breathe, Cade. Just breathe. They don't know, which is why you are here. Everyone starts somewhere, and you'll get more flies with honey than vinegar.
Two days later, his head was throbbing from a massive migraine, and the chief had already pulled him aside to talk to him about losing his temper. Apparently, confiscating the cell phones and putting them in the glove box, locking it, and instructing them on the new rules put his entire team in a royal snit.
Unfortunately, Cade did not have the same bond with his chief as he did with Reese Carpenter. Nope. This man was in his early sixties and talking about retirement with every sentence, dropping hints left and right, making the guys who worked on the truck nearly foaming at the mouth in a lathered frenzy, wondering which of them would get the desirable position of fire chief.
"They need to focus," Cade told Chief Marcum.
"Agreed – and by taking their phones, you made your team distracted, putting them all at risk…"
"Wait a second, how am I in the wrong?"
"I didn't say you were wrong. I told you that you created a distraction for your team, endangering them. You need to be more creative with them, which is why you get paid the big bucks."
"Chief Johnson, if you remember – I took a pay cut to come here because you promised me complete control over the team and the position of captain."
"And you have both, so long as you are prudent with your actions. I would recommend a few team-building activities to create a bond with your team mates."
"Team… building… activities?"
"Yes, yes," the man smiled, twirling his large white handlebar mustache that was pretty impressive; even Cade had to admit it. "If you go into a fire, you need to know your team has your back. If they go into a fire, they need that same security. I may not know everything, but I do know how to run a team. That's why I'm the chief for now."
"Heaven help us all," Cade muttered, grabbing his bag and heading out to his truck, remembering the conversation. Dropping his things in the truck bed, he sat down in the driver's seat and put his head against the steering wheel.
Did the fire chief think he was going to cause Cade to turn over a new leaf at the hint of possible advancement, too? The idea of taking over this disaster was horrifying, and there was a good chance that if he knew then what he knew now – Cade might not have left Ember Creek. Right now, he felt stuck, and all he wanted to do was run as fast as possible away from this town— which wasn't an option.
Starting his truck, he hesitated and then groaned. Something was clicking under the hood and didn't sound normal. No, there was a weird flap-flap sound accompanied by a whirring, clicking sound. Opening the hood, he immediately turned off the vehicle and groaned.
Cursing swiftly under his breath, he winced.
The belt was coming apart, and that was part of the noise, the other half, he still wasn't sure, but no one could deny the stream of green coolant running down the side of the radiator. He'd sprung a leak, and that was above his repair skills. The only thing that he was positive about was that he was meeting ‘Ol' Barry first thing this morning – as long as his truck didn't overheat or die on the way there.
Sliding back into the seat, Cade put it into reverse, gingerly limping the beloved truck through town toward the mechanics shop in the distance.
"Time to feed the gossips…" he muttered, putting his truck into gear.