“You didn’t check in,” I repeat.
Her arms fold. “I was going to. But my phone wasn’t charging because, shocker, the power’s out. And before you ask—yes, I started a fire. Yes, it’s safe. Yes, I’m warm. No, I’m not planning to die here.”
The sass hits like a balm. I fucking love it.
“Didn’t say you were,” I murmur, unclipping my radio and checking the volume before setting it on the side table.
She arches a brow. “Then why the hell are you here, Fireboy?”
I glance around. The place is small but tidy, and a flickering fire throws gold across the walls. The power outage’s cut all ambient noise, which makes everything feel closer. Quieter.
“We had a call from dispatch. Downed line and tree over on Holloway. Herb mentioned you hadn’t checked in and your place was close by, so I figured I’d swing past.” I shrug like it’s casual. “You’re up on the ridge line—service can be patchy in a storm.”
“You figured right.”
She says it with a clipped edge, but I catch the look of something else in her eyes as she scans my gear and uniform.
I take a step toward the fire, and raise my hands up toward the flames.
“You good?” I finally ask against the silence.
Frankie nods. “Peachy. I was just about to sleep.”
I glance down at the little nest she’s made in front of the fire.
“You sleep on the floor often?”
“It’s called being cozy, Mason.”
“Cozy,” I echo.
She glares. “You gonna stand there judging, or…?”
I smirk and turn, heading for the door. “Nah, I’ll leave you to your floor-bed and bad attitude.”
“Great.”
I gather my radio and tug the door open, then immediately regret it.
The wind slaps me in the face with a sheet of ice, snow piling fast around my boots. The kind of fast that makes you reassess your whole damn night. Visibility’s shot to shit, and I can barely make out the response truck through the whiteout.
Still, I stomp toward it, duck into the cab, and key in my radio with a gloved hand.
“Station 341, this is Unit 7, checking in.”
There’s a beat of static, then Beck’s voice crackles through. “Go ahead, Fletch.”
“Cabin on Ridgeview confirmed safe. One occupant. No injuries, no hazards. Power’s out, but fire’s lit.”
“Copy that,” Beck says. “Will let Herb know. Chief Rhode’s just pulled non-essential comms for the night. Roads are closing fast—better haul it back now or ride it out.”
“Understood,” I say. “Attempting departure now, but will otherwise stay put. I’ll update shortly. Unit 7, over.”
I set the radio aside, and reach for the ignition.
Nothing.
I try again. Still nothing, just a weak glow from the dome light before it dies.
