“Hey, sugar. I heard Jim Fisher came to see you.”
“You,” I say, pointing. “You were behind that.”
She shrugs, smiling softly. “You’re family, kid. I’m not letting you drown. You deserve room to breathe. And those girls deserve someone badass to show them what’s possible down at the school. It was actually Mack’s idea. She wanted to take auto shop, but there are no females in there. She mentioned it, and it got me thinking.”
“Maggie,” I whisper. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did,” she says, squeezing my hand. “Because I love you. So shut up and take the win. You are going to do big things, Poppy. We want you to pave the way for other girls here. Plus, they have a welding program there, too. I know you’re also a fantastic welder, and they need you badly at the school. Apparently, they’re hiring for several positions right now. But that one is perfect for you.”
I hug her. She’s always been good to Owen and me.
She pats my back. “Don’t make me all sappy. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
I laugh, wiping my eyes. And for the first time in a long time, something feels possible. And that scares me almost as much as it gives me hope.
She heads out, leaving me to think about Jim’s visit and what it could mean.
I pull out my phone and text Ollie. I know he’ll be so happy, too.
Poppy: Hey, are you busy?
Ollie: Nope. Just got to the station. Talking to the guys. What’s up?
Poppy: Can I come tell you something? It’s important.
Ollie: You know you never need an excuse to come see me, right?
Oh my God.
Poppy: Ollie!
Ollie: Joking. Get your butt down here and tell me.
Only I have a feeling that he’s not joking at all. But I’m too excited to unpack that right now.
I slap abe back in twentysign on the door, slide on my coat, and make the five-minute walk down the street to the Bridger Falls Fire Station. The air’s cold and sharp, my boots crunching over gravel and frost as I go.
The station doors are lit up like a beacon, a safe place. The way the station has always felt.
When I step inside, warmth hits me immediately. Not just heat, but the smell of coffee that’s been sitting too long on the burner, clean soap, and something faintly smoky that never quite leaves a place like this. The floors are scuffed concrete, worn smooth by boots and years of pacing. Gear racks line one wall, turnout coats hanging heavy and ready, helmets perched on top like they’re waiting for their owners.
The place hums with low noise. A TV murmuring somewhere in the background. Distant laughter. The clatter of dishes from the kitchen. I smell something cooking and can’t quite tell what it is, but it smells good.
I barely make it three steps in before I start scanning the room for him, my pulse picking up like I’m on a mission.
“Hey, Poppy!” Bucky calls from the kitchen area, leaning against the counter with a mug in his hand. He grins like he knows something I don’t.
I head over to him and give him a hug, waving at some of the other guys. “Thanks for all of your help with Owen.”
“Aww, he’s a great kid. You’re doing a great job.” Bucky says as he pulls a tray of lasagna out of the oven.
“It takes a village, Bucky. I’m thankful for all of you guys. Have you seen Ollie?”
His mouth goes into a line. “His mother just showed up. He’s out back talking to her.”
“Oh.” I grimace.
“Yeah, our thoughts, too.” Bucky leans against the counter. He shakes his head with disappointment.
