One
Ford
“I’m tellin’ you, Cap. It’s about damn time you get back on the horse, if ya know what I mean.” Remi, my lieutenant, waggles his brows. Tipping his half empty beer bottle in my direction, a dimply smirk curves the corner of his mouth before he takes a swig. A round of grunts follows from the rest of my team at the table as they agree with him.
Heaving a sigh, I swipe my beer off the table and toss back what’s left before standing and eyeing my team. “I’m gettin’ another round, but anybody who doesn’t drop this conversation by the time I come back doesn’t get one. Understood?”
Remi chuckles and rolls his eyes, but eventually nods, the rest of the table relenting too. It’s been a long, grueling couple of days, and what I need is to clear my mind and get some sleep. The last thing I want to do is talk about my dating life, or lack thereof, especially with my subordinates.
Standing at the counter, I signal for another round from Levi, the owner and the only one manning this place currently.It’s not too busy, but it’s early, and they’ve got live music tonight, so I’d imagine the seats will start filling up any time now. The Rusty Spur is the typical hole-in-the-wall dive bar you’d find in a small town. Located a few blocks from the fire station, it’s a spot my crew and I frequent after shifts to wind down. Doesn’t hurt they also serve the best street tacos around.
Beers in hand, I join the rest of my crew at the table again. Luckily, they’ve all seemed to have forgotten about Remi’s ludicrous suggestion for the time being as they talk about the call we took earlier today—a rescue for a woman and her donkey who managed to get stuck on the roof of her house. It was definitely a unique one, and I shake my head, breathing out a chuckle as I remember the way the donkey was hollering at us to get him down. The owner had attempted to, but when she got up there, the ladder fell away from the house, leaving them both trapped.
As captain of the Wolf Creek Fire Department, with over twenty-five years of experience, I’ve responded to hundreds of calls that left me scratching my head and wondering how they got themselves in that predicament. When you receive that call from dispatch, you never know what you’re going to get; no two calls are ever the same. One minute, we could be walking into a Class D fire with mass casualties and the odds stacked against us, and the next, we’re called out to rescue a woman and her farm animal from the roof of her ranch home. It keeps things interesting, keeps us on our toes.
Over the next hour or so, we all shoot the shit and finish off the rest of our beers while the band gets set up. By the time they start playing, most of my crew has wandered away from the table, leaving me here alone with Remi. When he glances my way, I already know what’s coming before he even says a word. For the last two years, I’ve gone through quite the roughpatch with my husband, Trent. Although, separated but living under the same roof is a more accurate way to put it. There have been endless evenings spent in individual and couples therapy, dozens of heated arguments that have blown up into days spent not saying a single word to one another, and me living out of our guest bedroom for the majority of it all.
Recently, it all came to a head, when we both seemed to reach our breaking point at the same time. I hired a lawyer and finally filed for divorce—something that should’ve happened years ago. At first, we agreed to continue living together. It was the most cost effective, and we had been doing it for so long already, but it wasn’t working anymore. So, a few weeks ago, I found a cheap little rental near the station.
Days away from the move, I was all packed and ready to go when a heavy storm rolled into town, sending a huge tree out of the ground and onto the house. I was back at square one, but there was no way I was returning to the house I shared with Trent, so I’ve been crashing at the firehouse since then.
Up until yesterday, I’ve kept my living arrangements a secret from my crew, which is how I prefer it. I’ve always been a more private person, and I hadn’t shared anything about my marital troubles with anybody at work because it never seemed like something I needed to dump on them. Especially when they all have their own lives and problems, and our job is high stress as it is. But also, because Trent is a fellow firefighter, just at a different station. Everybody knows him. They’re friends with him. I didn’t want to put anyone in the middle.
When Trent and I decided divorce was the path we wanted to take, I knew my crew, and his, would find out eventually, but I was hoping I’d be in my new place by the time that happened. It’s more than a little humiliating to admit I’m technically homeless. It would seem the universe had other plansfor me, though, because Trent’s sister is friends with one of my firefighters, Chandler Bernard, and she spilled the beans. Predictable small-town gossip found its way back to Firefighter Bernard, and when she came to me about it, I knew it was time to come clean to everyone.
Remi’s been in wingman mode ever since.
He steps away from the table and comes back a few minutes later with a fresh beer in each hand, offering me one before spinning his chair around and dropping onto it. Taking a long swig from the bottle, Remi’s crystal-blue eyes dance with mirth as they never leave my face. His excitement is vibrating off him, and it has me grinding my teeth in anticipation. Out of everyone on my crew, I’m the closest to Remi, and not only because he’s my lieutenant. Charles, Remi’s father, had been my best friend our entire life until the day he died when Remi was thirteen. I was with him in his final moments, and he made me promise to always keep an eye on his family.Ourfamily, because that’s exactly what they were to me. Since his death, I’ve done my best to look out for Remi and try to steer him on the right path, even when he’s always been hellbent on being reckless and boneheaded… Like his father.
Remi’s the closest thing I have to a son, which is why I know whatever he’s about to say is out of love, even though I don’t want to hear it. And sure enough, a minute later, he sets his beer down and points a finger at me from across the table. “You need to download a datin’ app,” he drawls, a smirk tugging on his lips. “For real, Cap. The best way to get over someone is to?—”
Holding up a hand, I cut him off. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Buchanan, or I’ll have you cleanin’ the toilets for the rest of the year.”
Remi throws his head back and laughs. “Okay, shit, noneed to threaten me. I’m simply suggestin’ downloadin’ the app and seein’ what’s out there. Couldn’t hurt to have a little fun.”
I understand where he’s coming from, I really do, but my stomach twists into a tight, painful knot at even the thought of doing something like that. “I’m too fuckin’ old for datin’ apps,” I spit out before taking a swig from my bottle.
“You’re forty-seven, not ninety.” He snorts. “You’re definitelynottoo old. I’ve come across plenty of men and women your age, and older, on those apps. This isn’t Santa Claus, Cap. There’s no max age limit to datin’.”
Thinking over what Remi’s saying, I will admit there’s some small part of me thatisintrigued. That wonders what it would be like.
But I can’t.
There’s no way I’m ready for something like that. Not when the divorce papers have barely been filed with the courthouse for the marriage I’ve been in for the last twenty-three years. Hell, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Sure, Remiisright—forty-seven isn’t ninety—but it is old enough to wonder if maybe I’m better off alone for the rest of my life. Surely, that’s easier and less stress-inducing than the alternative. The smartest move for me is nipping this conversation in the bud before Remi gets too involved. When he sets his mind to something, he’s a dog with a bone, and I don’t need that right now.Or maybe ever.
“Drop it, Buchanan,” I warn. “It ain’t happenin’.”
“You’re no fun,” he groans with a roll of his eyes. “But if you happen to change your mind,Hiveis a good one to download. I’ve had a lot of success on there.”
“Not changin’ my mind.”
Breathing out a laugh, Remi nods and says, “Okay, but in case ya do.”
It’s another couple of hours before we all decide to call it a night. It couldn’t come a moment too soon. I’m exhausted in every sense of the word. Mind, body, soul. The last couple of years have been hard, but I was able to bury the stress for the most part by putting my all into work. Lately, though, it’s becoming impossible to ignore. The stress is catching up to me, and I feel it in my tired, achy bones. The walk back to the firehouse only takes about five minutes, and I have every intention of climbing into bed and sleeping for the next twelve hours, but as luck would have it, as soon as I slide in between the sheets, my mind can’t seem to shut off.
Remi’s ridiculous suggestion is at the forefront, despite me not wanting it to be. Heaving a heavy sigh, I grab my phone from the nightstand and unlock it, pulling up the app store. For a moment, I stare at the home page.This is crazy, right?Downloading a dating app at my age, while going through a divorce… That’s a horrible idea, isn’t it?
Although, would itreallybe the worst idea in the world?
