"How is she?" Arthur asks, taking one of the pastries.
"Busy. There's that pile-up on the highway from the ice last night. She's been coordinating with county since five this morning." There's pride in his voice, subtle but unmistakable.
"Nice to meet you, Lori," Bradley says, turning back to me. His voice carries the same steady calm as his demeanor. "Any friend of Arthur's is welcome in Whitetail Falls."
Friend seems like a stretch given that I met him less than twelve hours ago, but I appreciate his tact.
"Thank you," I reply, warming my hands on the coffee cup. "It's a beautiful town."
"First time visiting?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe. Arthur remains between us, a solid presence that somehow makes the conversation feel less intrusive.
"Yes," I say simply.
Bradley nods, not pushing for details. His eyes drift to the window where snow is beginning to fall again. "Good time of year to see it. Town's just starting to prepare for the holidays. There’s a lot of fun festive stuff to do, worth sticking around for if you can."
There's no pressure in his suggestion, just a gentle opening if I choose to take it.
He turns back to Arthur. "Chief wants to know if you can come in early today. The engine's making that noise again, that high-pitched whine when it idles. Nathan and I tried looking at it, but we need your expertise."
"Loose belt?" Arthur asks.
Bradley shakes his head. "That's what I thought too. Checked it, all good. Could be electrical. Nathan's theory is it's the fuel pump, but I think he's just guessing at this point."
"Tell him I'll be there in an hour," Arthur replies, the two of them slipping into the easy shorthand of colleagues who trust each other's judgment.
"Will do." Bradley pushes off from the doorframe. To me, he adds, "If you need anything while you're in town, the station's just down on Emberstone Avenue. Can't miss it, big red brick building with three bay doors. Someone's always there."
There's genuine kindness in the offer. He doesn't know me or my situation, but the invitation is clear, the fire station is a safe place if I need one.
"Thanks," I say, and mean it.
Bradley gives Arthur a pointed look I can't quite interpret, then offers a two-fingered salute. "Don't be late. Logan's on shift today, and you know how he gets if he has to handle morning equipment checks."
"Heaven forbid Lieutenant Perfect Hair gets engine grease on his uniform," Arthur mutters, but there's affection beneath the sarcasm.
Bradley laughs, a warm sound that fills the small apartment. "I'll tell him you said that."
"Please don't," Arthur responds dryly.
After Bradley leaves, Arthur closes the door and returns to the table. "Sorry about that."
"It's fine," I say, pushing a piece of pancake around my plate. "He seems nice."
"He is," Arthur confirms, taking a sip of the coffee Bradley brought. "Bradley's the most level-headed guy at the station. Former military communications specialist. We served in different units, but we understand each other. Don’t worry, he won’t say anything."
"About the strange woman in your clothes?" I attempt a smile. "I'm sure that's not gossip-worthy at all."
He shrugs, unconcerned. "People can think what they want. And trust me, the station has seen stranger things than me offering someone a safe place to stay."
I reach for one of the cinnamon rolls, the sweetness suddenly appealing. "You all seem close."
"We are," he says simply. "Spend enough time together in dangerous situations, you either become family or you find another job."
I nod. We finish breakfast in comfortable silence. As I help clear the dishes, I realize I have no plan beyond this moment. My purse contains my turned off phone, my wallet, and not much else. My car is nearly out of gas. I have no clothes except the ruined wedding dress folded over a chair in the bedroom and what I'm currently borrowing from Arthur.
"I should figure out what to do next," I say, more to myself than to him.
Arthur dries his hands on a dish towel. "You need a ride somewhere? The station's not far, but I can drop you wherever you need to go."
