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I walked over to it and turned up the volume.

“Engine 2, Truck 2, Medic 2. Fire at Dockweiler Beach, Dockweiler Youth Center. Emergency channel ten.”

Riv and I ran out of the house and glanced north on the beach, seeing the gray smoke in the distance. I retrieved the binoculars Thatcher hung from a nail on the back porch, putting them to my eyes to see if I could figure out how bad the fire was.

Flames were shooting high, and I could hear the sirens in the distance. Based on what I’d heard on the scanner, Thatcher’s station was responding, and I was immediately consumed with worry.

“Lemme see,” Riv demanded.

I took off the binoculars and handed them to him, and he quickly slid the strap over his neck and held them to his eyes. “Oh damn, that looks bad. Should we walk up there?”

My heart sped. “To do what?”

“Watch? I mean, we don’t get to see a real-life fire very often, so why not?”

I sucked in a deep breath. “What about the fucking bus accident we were in? When the damn thing caught fire, that wasn’t real enough for you?”

Riv turned to me and exhaled, making a whistling sound as he did. “I’m sorry. It was a fucked-up thing to say, but don’t you want to go watch your man in action?”

After weighing his words for a moment, I decided he was right. When would I ever get a chance to see Thatcher in his element?

“Fine. Let’s go.” I slid off my flip-flops and left them on the back porch, as did River, and we jogged along the shoreline where the sand was firmer and walked toward the youth center.

I turned toward River. “God, I hope there weren’t kids inside.”

“It’s a Sunday. Do they have activities there on the weekends?”

I knew nothing about the youth center, and I wasn’t thrilled that I hadn’t bothered to check it out. I was fortunate to have had places like the youth center when I was growing up. Places that gave me a chance to make friends and meet role models who offered guidance and advice when I needed it. I could be something like that to a kid, and the guilt consumed me that I hadn’t thought about it.

As we got closer to the fire, the trucks were arriving, and when I spotted Thatcher in his firefighter gear, I wanted to jump him, though I could see he was busy directing his crew. We weren’t close enough to hear what he was saying, but everyone was listening to him, and I was impressed by his calm demeanor.

Someone ran with a hose while another firefighter carried a heavy tool inside the building, though I had no idea what the tool was used for. I should have researched the things firefighters did and what tools they used.

I watched as Thatcher spoke quickly to two members of his crew, one of whom went to the large ladder truck and hopped inside, moving the truck closer to the fire. The ladder started ascending toward the roof of the youth center.

What I didn’t expect was for Thatcher to pick up the nozzle at the end of the hose and begin to climb that tall ladder. “No, no. Get down from there,” I whispered as he continued to climb.

“Wow! That’s brave. Damn, I like that guy a lot. You better hold on to him. Besides being a snack, he’s a whole fucking happy meal. I’m glad for you, JD.

“Let’s go to the store and get our ingredients together so we can figure out how to make a frittata.”

I took the binoculars from River and held them up one more time, seeing Thatcher step off the ladder and onto the metal roof of the youth center. Man, he was either brave or absolutely insane, but I loved the man.

After aiming the hose at some licks of flame coming out of the roof, he appeared to be winning the fight. When he finally climbed back onto the white ladder and began descending it with the hose still spouting water, I was thoroughly impressed. I hoped he could put out the fire in my pants just as well.

River and I headed to the bungalow so we could go to the store. I had yet another reason to make something special for my firefighter. He worked hard and deserved a treat.

Chapter Nineteen

Thatcher

God, the fire was awful, and the Dockweiler Beach Youth Center was going to be a pile of crap. So many kids were going to lose after-school care and a variety of educational classes in art, music, and tutoring. Where they’d go now was anybody’s guess.

Arson Inspector Max Cooper arrived on scene with his tablet and a set of turnouts, which he slipped on beside his truck. When he approached me, he had a red fire helmet under his arm. “Where’s Captain Blake?”

“He had a meeting at battalion headquarters. I’m running incident command today. What can I do for you?”

Cooper nodded. “I need to get inside.”