“Sam Shepherd is a firefighter on C shift. He has a big ranch on the outskirts of town. He’s a crazy motherfucker but would give you the shirt off of his back.”
“Does he like to hunt?”
“No.” Jason snorts. “He inherited the ranch from his grandad. Why?”
I give him a deadpan look. “Uh, the name.”
“Oh, yeah. Sam’s perfected the art of never being labeled the designated driver. For years, if we went to a bar, he’d yell shotgun and jump in the front passenger seat so fast no one knew what hit ’em.”
“I don’t get it. Why not just call an Uber?”
“Dude, there’s no Uber in Sycamore Mountain. The only pizza parlor in town doesn’t even deliver. You better keep your fridge stocked with cold ones and your nightstand full of condoms, my friend. ’Cause, there’s no twenty-four-hour anything in this town.”
“Fuck.”
Jason chuckles, tossing a stray twig onto the ground from where we sit at a picnic table behind the fire station. “Oh, it’s not so bad. May have to plan ahead more and drive a little farther to get wherever you want to go, but it’s not a bad life.”
“Did you grow up here?”
“Hell no. I grew up in Chicago. I hated the traffic and the hustle and bustle. I came here over a long weekend with my parents and never wanted to leave. In the city, the cost of living is so expensive you spend your days off trying to make an extra buck. Here, I while away the hours fishing to my heart’s content.”
My gaze takes in our surroundings with renewed appreciation. An array of gorgeous evergreens decorate the mountains in the distance. “I’ve never been a big nature enthusiast. I’m taking online classes to complete my IT degree.” I scratch the back of my neck nervously. “This probably isn’t the best place to put that education to use.” I have to admit, the thought of finding some real downtime to relax and enjoy life sounded nice. Maybe this place could be just what I need.
“So why did you move here?”
“I wanted a fresh start. I had a terrible breakup and needed to get the fuck out of town. I heard there was an opening and jumped at the chance.” An uncomfortable silence settles upon us, and I immediately feel the need to clarify. “I’m dedicated to the station, Jason. It may take some adjustment to get acclimated to the town. But-”
“You’re good, man. It’s okay,” he swiftly interrupts. “I’m sure the guys had their concerns when I moved here. But Sycamore is a great town. I think you found the perfect place to start a new life.” His large open palm pats my shoulder, and I relax a bit. You place a lot of trust in your brothers on this job. It’s the only way to tackle what we do, day in and day out. I’d never want any of them to think I’m just using their station as temporary rehab from my failed relationship.
“So, you game?”
“For what?”
“A Shotgun Sam party?”
“What exactly am I in for?”
A laugh barrels out of him. “With Sam, one never really knows.”
Chapter5
Trevor
“Hey, man. You ready?”
I let out a snort. “How did I let you con me into this?”
“Where’s your shirt?” Jason goads, pointing at my jacket. It’s zipped up to my neck, whereas his is plainly visible for all to see. A white cotton T-shirt is stretched across his pecs, ‘I like tits & ass’ emblazoned across the front.
Apparently, Shotgun Sam is big into holiday get-togethers. Just not the typical Halloween or Fourth of July variety. Matt had joked that Sam likes to embrace the lesser recognized ones to show thema little love.
Sam had dropped by the station on his day off several weeks ago creating quite a stir. We were each asked to choose either a T-shirt, hat, or button in preparation for his party. Despite my prodding, no additional information was provided. They merely laughed it off, acting as if this was routine for a Shotgun Sam party. Later, we were instructed to write two things we liked and put them into a bag. Again, I had no idea where this was going until the shirts, hats, and buttons were distributed, and the party theme was explained in greater detail.
“It’s National Ampersand Day,” Dave announced. “Read ’em and weep.”
I recall opening the plastic bag thrust in my direction, looking at the white cotton T-shirt in confusion.“To be allowed entrance to the party, you must wear something that says ‘I like ______ & _______’ as an icebreaker. Don’t take it too seriously, man.” Matt had joked. “It’s just a way to meet new people.”
“You know you have to unzip that to get in, right?” he asks, returning me to the present.
