A Cowboy Firefighter For Christmas (Smokin' Hot Cowboys 1) (17 page)

“Nope.” He shook his head in denial. “If you need a reason, look on them as payment for helping stop that grass fire.”

“I was happy to help.”

He stepped close to her and lifted her chin with the tip of one finger. “Now, are you gonna accept those boots or get into deeper trouble with me?”

She felt as if she might drown in the depths of his hazel eyes. “What kind of trouble?” Those words fell out of her mouth in a kind of breathy wonder. She was shocked at the way he could bypass her brain. She quickly snapped her teeth together to stop any more wayward words from escaping her mouth. Yet she couldn’t stop the heat that was once more engulfing her body.

He gently rubbed his thumb back and forth across her lower lip. “You want me to give that some thought or wing it?”

She quickly stepped back. “Tell you what, I bet I’ll love those boots, but I want to give you a gift in return.”

“If you don’t like the style, you can exchange them at Gene’s Boot Hospital.”

“I saw that store in Old Town. It looked like shoe repair.”

“That, too. Gene’s has been around since the cattle drive days. Cowboys ordered new boots on the way up to Kansas and picked them up on their way back when they had money from the drive.”

“But hospital?”

“If you were a hard-driving cowboy, you’d want the best repair you could get for boots that cost a season’s wages, wouldn’t you? Hospital sounds like the ticket to me.”

“Makes sense when you put it that way.” She glanced upstairs. “Hang on a minute. I’ve got something that just might suit you.”

“We’re burning daylight.”

“I’ll be quick.”

She went back into the house and up the stairs into the kitchen that still smelled like delicious gingerbread. Later, she’d have fun helping Ruby bake cookies and hearing Charlene and J.P. tell funny tales about another day of hunting for the collectibles they’d managed to find in out-of-the-way places. She’d enjoy all of that, but she doubted it’d compare to spending time with Trey.

Misty unlocked the door to her suite, went inside, walked over to her desk, and picked up the Bluebird of Happiness. She hesitated, thinking about Cindi Lou. Maybe she shouldn’t give the bluebird to Trey since she’d originally bought it for her BFF. But no, Cindi Lou would want her to give Trey a gift. Misty would simply buy another one at Adelia’s Delights before she went back to Dallas. Now if the bluebird had been a case of Heritage Dr Pepper made with original cane sugar and bought at the Dr Pepper Museum in Waco, Cindi Lou would’ve put her foot down fast about sharing that gift. Misty chuckled at the idea. Nothing got between Cindi Lou and her Dr Pepper.

Misty wrapped the beautiful bluebird in tissue paper and tucked it back inside the Adelia’s Delights holiday bag. It wasn’t a gift with nearly the same value as cowboy boots, but the sentiment was worth a lot, and she would find Trey something else later.

She turned to leave, then glanced at the top of the dresser where she’d left the macramé necklace. Suddenly she didn’t want to leave the Christmas angel lying there. Felt like bad luck. She quickly pulled the necklace over her head and headed downstairs.

When she stepped into the garden room, she saw Trey waiting for her near the sliding doors. She hesitated a moment to take him in. Tall, broad-shouldered, long-legged, muscular, smart, funny, tender—the list could go on and on.

“Ready to go?”

She nodded, feeling a little tingle of excitement.

“You just want your boots, don’t you?” he teased with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What else?”

He chuckled as he slid open the doors and stepped back so she could leave before him. “I can think of better things.”

She didn’t say it, but he made her think of better things, too.

Misty paused to wave good-bye to Temple, who was surveying his domain from one of Big John’s far-reaching limbs. When she looked around, Trey had already opened the door to his truck for her. She quickly walked over, settled onto the front seat, and set the bluebird sack on the floor.

Trey moved around the front of the pickup and got inside. “You ready for your boots?” He started the engine and upped the AC.

She nodded in anticipation.

He reached behind his seat, picked up a big paper sack, and grinned at her as he set the bag on her lap.

She read “Gene’s Boot Hospital” in an old-style Western typeface on the sack before she pulled out a large box. An illustration on the lid showed a rattlesnake biting a snake boot with the brand, “Nocona,” in fancy letters.

“Go ahead and open.” He chuckled. “It won’t bite.”

She laughed at his snake reference as she raised the lid and saw bright red boots with a turquoise wing design stitched across the toes and tops. “They’re beautiful!”

“Thought they suited you.”

She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. But they’re much too expensive.”

“Not for you.” He pointed at the boots. “Nocona is a good old Texas brand. Enid Justin got the idea to start herself a cowboy boot company about 1925 in Nocona. That’s a town not far from here.”

“Clever lady.” Misty stroked down the toe of one boot, feeling the smooth, taut leather.

“Cowgirls wear boots like those for rodeos.”

“Think I’ll just keep my feet on the ground.”

He chuckled. “That’ll work, too.”

“Why are cowboy boots made like this?”

“Think stirrups.” He pointed at the boot. “High heels won’t slip. Leather soles won’t snag. Pointed toes ease in and out. And a high shaft protects legs from brush and thorns.”

“They look good, too.”

He laughed. “Ranks right up there.”

She joined his laughter.

“Why don’t you see how they fit?”

She checked the size on the box. “You’ve got a fine eye. These are in my size range.”

“Good start.”

She set down the box and took off her athletic shoes. She tried to slide her right foot into a boot, but it didn’t work. “Something’s not right.”

“Try putting your fingers through the loops on the top sides. Pull up on the boot at the same time you push down with your foot. You want it snug across the instep.”

When she felt her foot slide home, she laughed out loud in triumph.

“Maybe we should’ve done this in the house where there’s more room.”

“It’s perfect in a pickup.” She pulled on the other boot, tossed her shoes in the box, and put it behind the seat.

“How do they feel?”

“Wonderful.”

“Glad to hear it.”

She picked up her sack from the floor and handed it to him. “And here’s a gift for you.”

He hefted the sack. “Kinda heavy.” He put one hand in the bag, fiddled with tissue paper, and pulled out the bluebird. “Real fine.” He held the bird up to the window so sunlight glimmered in the blue glass.

“Bluebird of Happiness,” she said. “It’s a symbol of good luck.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a lingering kiss on her lips. “I can use all the luck I can get.”

She could tell he liked the bluebird, so she was pleased with both their gifts. Truth be told, she was more than pleased with her Nocona boots. They were absolutely stunning. She glanced down at her feet and admired the boots.

He carefully rewrapped the bluebird and set it inside the center console. “You all set for a cookout?”

“Can’t wait to see your ranch.”

He backed away from Twin Oaks, turned down the lane, and headed toward Wildcat Road.

Misty clasped her hands in her lap. Despite everything—the gift, the kiss, the words—something about Trey was different today. She’d noticed it when he’d first walked toward her today. Nothing obvious. Yet she’d become so attuned to him in such a short time that she couldn’t help but be aware of it. She was also highly alert when she worked as a troubleshooter, so she focused on the smallest details. All in all, she felt a little uneasy.

She wished she’d driven her own car. She liked to be able to come and go as she needed so she was completely independent. But this was Trey’s show today and that meant she needed to accommodate him.

She didn’t say anything. He was quiet, too. Normally their silences were comfortable, but not today. She felt a building tension and couldn’t understand it. Maybe he didn’t really want to buy her the boots but felt obligated to keep his word. Maybe he regretted inviting her to his ranch. Maybe he was simply too busy to take time for her. She stopped her thoughts. She could think of a million reasons not to be in this place at this moment. Bottom line, she needed and wanted to see the ranch and learn more from him.

From her high perch in the truck, she watched the countryside as Trey turned onto Wildcat Road. He drove south away from town. She pretended interest in the view, but she stayed vitally aware of him as she watched him handle the big truck with ease.

And he still remained quiet. Maybe he was turning into the strong, silent type. But she knew better. He had something on his mind.

He turned off onto a wide asphalt road with gravel shoulders. She recognized the area. She’d driven down this road when she’d been scouting Texas Timber’s Christmas tree farms. Why would he bring her here?

On the right side of the road, barbwire fence enclosed open pasture where black cattle grazed on dried-out grass or stood in the shade of live oak trees. Everything looked as dry and dusty as ever. On the left side of the road, neat rows of cedar trees in size from seedlings to knee-high rose into the air.

“Came this way for a reason.” Trey broke the silence as he pointed to the left. “Christmas tree farm. Seen one before?”

“Not until the other day when I drove around this area.”

“Texas Timber already harvested the bigger trees for the Christmas season.”

“That’s the company?”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “Ever hear of them?”

She hesitated, wanting to tell him everything. She couldn’t completely trust him, so she remained silent.

“Christmas trees are big business, big money.”

“I read an article about it online.”

“Thirty-four million Christmas trees sold last year,” he said.

“That’s a lot.”

“Takes a lot of land to grow them.”

“Guess Texas makes sense for that business.” She felt as if her new red boots were tightening every time he took her another step down this path.

“That’s my land on the right.”

“Beautiful.”

“You can see the difference, can’t you?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “But isn’t there room for both types of use on all this land?”

“Sure is. But Texas Timber wants to buy my family’s ranch and turn it from what you see on the right to what you see on the left.”

“That’d be a shame.”

“Glad you agree.” He pointed right again. “Wildcat Ranch has been in my family for generations. Some of the land is still pristine, and it’ll stay that way come hell or high water.”

“I take it you don’t plan to sell.”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“Makes sense. Why sell if you don’t want or need to do it? Like you say, there’s other land for tree farms.”

“You sure?”

She felt a chill run through her body. Now they were getting down to what was bothering him. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“You’ve never heard of Texas Timber?”

She shrugged, not willing to commit to anything.

“I saw your website.” He flicked his eyes toward her as he slowed his truck on the road. “Troubleshooter. Vague kind of business.”

Now she really wished she’d driven her SUV. She felt her unease explode. He had her alone in his truck on a lonely road headed to his isolated ranch. And now she understood he was going to give her the third degree. But why his sudden distrust?

She felt her mind spin backward, desperately searching for something, anything that’d explain his abrupt change. And then her memory hooked, spun, and caught. In the gazebo, he’d reached her phone first and handed it to her. Could he have read “Texas Timber” in the millisecond before she’d grabbed her cell? Oh, yes. That’d explain why he was different today.

“Are you sure you’re on vacation?” He stopped the truck and turned to focus on her. “I wouldn’t want my family and friends upset or hurt.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not beating about the bush.”

“Do you think I’d deliberately hurt your friends and family?” She hated the idea that he’d even consider it.

“No, I don’t.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “But somebody’s causing trouble around here.”

“Well, it’s not me.”

“But you’re not what you seem, are you?”

She turned away from him, not wanting to see the accusation in his gaze. It’d all blown up in her face. She needed to come clean, but could she trust him enough to do it?

“Misty, help me out here. I need answers.”

She took a deep breath and turned back to him. “I would never—not in a million years—do anything to jeopardize your loved ones.”

He nodded, still searching her face as if trying to read deep into her very soul.

“If you won’t believe me then—” She reached down and tried to tug off a cowboy boot. It stuck like glue.

“You’re not giving back the boots.”

“Trey, I’m not in a position to discuss—”

“What are you? And don’t give me that vacation malarkey. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

She took a deep breath. She either trusted him or she didn’t. She couldn’t stay stuck on the fence. She glanced out the front window.

Smoke spiraled into the sky.

“Smoke!” Misty pointed over Trey’s shoulder, feeling her hand shake slightly from the strong emotions that were flooding her.

He frowned at her as he shook his head. “I’m not falling for that. We’re going to get to the root of why you’re here.”

“I’m serious.” She slipped her phone out of her pocket and hit speed dial for 9-1-1. Nothing. She tried again. No bars.

He gave her a narrow-eyed look before he whipped his head around to look out the window. “Oh, hell!”

“I’m trying to get help.”

“Coverage is spotty here, if there’s any at all.” He hit the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. “Let’s go see what we’ve got. Maybe I can contain it.”

“You’ve got firefighter stuff?”

“Some. In back.” He gunned the engine, and the truck rocketed toward the smoke.

Misty’s pulse accelerated along with the pickup. She took slow, deep breaths. Somehow, she would handle this fire situation. She simply had to do it.

Trey hit the brakes hard, threw open his door, leaped from the truck, and ran a short distance down the road. He looked to the left toward the smoke, put his hands on his hips as if considering the danger, and then jogged back. He jerked open the back door on his side of the truck.

“How bad?”

“Not good.” He grabbed a yellow firefighter jacket and matching pants. He quickly pulled them on over his regular clothes. He gestured toward the left side of the road where the smoke spiraled higher. “Texas Timber is going to lose acreage, no doubt about it. We’ve just got to make sure that fire doesn’t jump to the ranch.”

She glanced across the road at his land. “Oh, Trey, I’m so sorry.” She pointed toward the right. “Now I see smoke on your side, too.”

“What!” He swung around to look in that direction, then he turned back to her. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“We’ve got to get help.” She punched 9-1-1 again. Still nothing.

“Misty, it means somebody started those fires. Two at once can’t be an accident of nature.”

“Like the house?”

“Yes.” He fixed her with hazel eyes gone dark. “But it also means we were together when those fires were set, even if they smoldered for a bit before they got going good.”

“And if we’re together—” She felt her breath catch at the enormity of what he was telling her.

“Somebody else—”

“Not us.”

He smiled, laugh lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

“Do you have an extra fire extinguisher?”

“Forget it.” He picked up a large red fire extinguisher with a black shoulder strap and set it on the ground. He pulled out another extinguisher and slung it by its strap over his shoulder.

“I want to help.”

“Good. Take my truck back to Wildcat Road and drive toward town till you get coverage. When you reach 9-1-1, tell them where we are and to alert Kent and Sydney.”

“Okay.” She opened the door, stepped carefully down, and ran around the front of the pickup to him.

“After that, please go back to Twin Oaks.”

“What?”

“You’re not trained for these blazes. And remember your fire phobia.”

“I helped before.”

He tugged her gently against his chest and held her close a moment. Then he set her back. “I don’t want you in danger.”

“But I can help.”

“If anything happened to you—”

“Nothing will.”

“That’s right, because you’re leaving here.” He twirled her around and nudged her toward the front seat. “No time for sass. Get going.”

“Okay. I’m going, but only because somebody’s got to reach Hedy at the station.”

“That’s my Misty.” He slammed the back door, picked up the fire extinguisher from the ground, and slung it by its strap over his shoulder. He gave her a quick nod, then jogged toward the smoke.

She got in the truck and revved the big engine. She’d quickly come to like the height and power of a pickup. She made sure Trey was at a safe distance, then turned around and headed out. She drove with one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on the phone. She hit speed dial for 9-1-1 as she hurried down the road, but she still couldn’t get coverage.

When she came to Wildcat Road, she spun the wheel one-handed to make the left turn and skidded toward the shoulder. She dropped her phone as she overcorrected in the other direction. Finally, she got the truck safely stopped on the side of the road. Good thing she wasn’t in Dallas with all that traffic.

She felt the fast thud of her heart from the adrenaline that had kicked in, so she took several calming breaths. She had to be careful because Trey was depending on her alone to get help. She reached down, felt around on the floorboard, and finally found her cell wedged in a corner. She grabbed it and set up straight.

She hit 9-1-1 again. Still no response. She gunned the engine and tore down the road toward town, dialing over and over.

“Wildcat Bluff Emergency. How may I help you?”

“Hedy! Is that you?” Misty pulled to the side of the road and stopped the pickup so she could safely talk.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Misty Reynolds. We’ve got a fire out here on either side of the road between Wildcat Ranch and a Texas Timber Christmas tree farm.”

“Say again?” Hedy spoke in a calm, professional voice. “Fire on both sides of the road?”

“Yes. Trey’s there now fighting the fire. He needs help. Please alert Kent and Sydney, too.”

“I know the area. Alarm’s gone out.”

“Thank you.” Misty felt deep relief. “He’s alone.”

“Not for long.”

“I’m going back.”

“Misty, you get out of there.” Hedy’s voice was no longer professional but filled with emotional concern. “We can handle it.”

“The fire’s on
both
sides of the road.”

“Understood. But—”

“Thanks!”

Misty slumped against the seat and rubbed her forehead. She’d done it. Help was on the way. But she needed to do a little more before she went back to lend her support to Trey.

She called Audrey. No answer. She was probably in a meeting. Misty sent a text. “Fire at Christmas tree farm opposite Wildcat Ranch. Fire trucks on way. I’m at fire. GTG.”

Next she hit speed dial for Cindi Lou, who quickly picked up.

“Tell me you’ve got him tied to his bedposts and you’re just taking a break to spill all,” Cindi Lou said in a sultry voice.

Despite the situation, Misty couldn’t help but chuckle. “I wish.”

“Shoot. What gives?”

“We’ve got a fire on the Texas Timber Christmas tree farm across from Wildcat Ranch.”

“How bad?”

“There’ll be loss but not total. Fire trucks are on their way.”

“The hunk?”

“He’s there now with a couple of fire extinguishers.” Misty felt renewed urgency to return to the fires.

“That’s like whistling in the wind.”

“I’ve got to get back to him.”

“Misty, you two take care. Hear now?”

“I hear you. Later.” She broke the connection.

Misty had done her civic duty. Help was on its way. She could go back to Twin Oaks and nobody would blame her. But Wildcat Bluff was personal now, as well as professional. And now Trey was her trusted friend, as well as so much more. She wouldn’t rest easy till he was safe.

She turned the truck around and headed back to the fire. She gunned the engine and heard the pickup respond with a deep growl. Reminded her of Trey. If he thought she’d run to safety and leave him to face danger alone, he didn’t know her very well.

In the distance, smoke billowed up into the sky over the Christmas tree farm. It looked much worse than when she’d left a short time ago. Drought, heat, and a slight breeze were fanning the flames. She could smell burning cedar. Panic started to well up, but she batted it down. She wouldn’t allow old feelings to overwhelm her. Not when Trey needed her.

As she turned off Wildcat Road, she slowed and reached behind the seat to grab Trey’s firefighter parka. Between the parka and her boots, she’d have some protection when she helped him.

In her mind’s eye, she saw a lone man in a firefighter jacket, desperately fighting to save lives and land. He was a larger-than-life hero.

Her
hero.