Her Firefighter Hero (2 page)

As he passed through the narrow hallway, he snatched a fire extinguisher off the wall. The screen door clapped closed behind him as he stepped out into the alley. Megan's daughter was screaming and jumping up and down in absolute panic. Looking at his sister, the little boy followed suit and burst into tears. When Megan saw the flames licking above the top of a metal garbage can, she gasped.

“Where's the lid? Can anyone find the lid? I've got to snuff the fire out,” she cried, searching through the rows of garbage cans lining the outer building.

Without hesitation, Jared pulled the ring on the extinguisher, aimed the nozzle at the trash can and depressed the trigger. A whoosh of white foam hit the flames. Within seconds, the fire was out.

The girl stopped screaming and the boy stopped crying. The two kids huddled next to their mom's legs and sniffled. The poor little things were scared, and Jared thought that was good. After this experience, he doubted they'd ever play with matches.

“Oh, thank you.” Megan spoke with relief, one hand cradling Caleb's head next to her thigh, her other hand clasped to her chest.

“You're welcome.” Jared nodded, conscious of the cook, waitress and several customers from the restaurant coming outside to see what the commotion was about. Their eyes were filled with helpless frustration.

“I wonder what caused the fire,” Megan said.

Jared glanced around the narrow alley. His experienced gaze took in the variety of garbage cans, plastic black bags and a litter of cigarette butts lying in the dirt by the back door.

He pointed at the butts. “I suspect that's your culprit. Someone could have tossed a hot cigarette into the garbage can and it ignited.”

“Of course. But how did you know what to do?” Megan asked. “You were so quick to react. It would have taken me several more minutes to remember the fire extinguisher. In all these years, I've never had to use it.”

He shrugged. “It's what I do. I'm glad to help.”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean? What do you do?”

“I'm the new fire management officer at the Forest Service office in town. Normally I'd be wearing my Forest Service uniform, but I'm off duty today.”

Her face flushed a deep red. A cloud of doubt veiled her expressive eyes. “Oh. You're a firefighter.”

It wasn't a question. She said it as if it was something to be abhorred.

“So, you're the new FMO.” Connie stepped forward and shook his hand. “We haven't met yet, but you work with my husband, Tim Wixler.”

Jared smiled with recognition. “Sure. Tim's a great guy. I'm glad to have him as my assistant FMO.”

“But you fight wildfires,” Megan said again, as though she couldn't believe it.

He nodded. “Yes, or rather, I used to. Now, I just organize the people and equipment for fighting fires on the Minoa National Forest. Although I'm also the newest member of the voluntary fire department here in town.” He smiled, a frisson of pride filling his chest. In spite of suffering a painful divorce last year, he still loved his work. It's all that had kept him sane after his ex-wife left him for another man.

“Well, I appreciate the help. Your meal is on the house,” Megan said.

“Nah, you don't need to do that,” he countered.

“Sure I do. It's my way of saying thank-you.”

He stepped forward and offered her his hand. “My name's Jared Marshall.”

“I'm Megan Rocklin.” She took his hand in a tentative grip, but she didn't smile.

“I'm glad to meet you, Mrs. Rocklin.”

She nodded. Without another word, she turned her shoulder on him and looked at the husky man wearing a chef's hat. The cook. Jared had seen the guy back in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

“Frank, I'm afraid you may have caused this fire. Can you be more careful with your cigarette butts in the future? I've got insurance, but I'd sure hate to have the place burn to the ground.” Her voice sounded gentle but stern.

Frank's round face flushed red. “I... I'm sorry, Megan. I thought my cigarette was out. I didn't mean to cause any harm.”

The poor guy looked profoundly apologetic. The little girl named June took his hand and leaned against his side in a silent show of support.

Megan relented, a smile of understanding creasing her face as she hugged the big man in a warm gesture of forgiveness. “I know you didn't mean any harm. Just please be careful in the future. Or better yet, now is a great time to quit smoking altogether.”

“Maybe you're right,” Frank said, his bushy brows pulled down in a thoughtful frown.

Jared liked this woman. Liked the way she treated her kids and her employees. She seemed to really care about them. And after what he'd been through with his ex-wife and her selfish demands, that meant a lot.

“Well, no harm done,” Jared said.

All eyes riveted on him. No one said a word. They looked at him as if he'd grown horns on top of his head. And suddenly, he felt out of place. As if he didn't belong. Not yet, anyway. But he planned to change that over time. He loved the quiet camaraderie of this small town, the slower pace, the beautiful stands of timber covering the Sierra Nevada Mountains. This was his kind of place, and he was staying. He'd thought putting out the fire might win him a few new friends. So, why did he feel as if he was a leper trying to infect everyone? Maybe it was because they didn't know him yet. He was a stranger, after all.

“Okay, the show is over, folks. Let's get back to business.” Megan opened the screen door and urged her children, Frank and other people inside.

Jared held back, deciding to watch the fire for a while longer, to ensure it was really out.

Megan beckoned to him. “You don't need to worry. I'll keep an eye on it.”

“If you've got a bucket, I'd feel better to dump some water on it, just to make sure it doesn't flare up again.”

“Yes, I can do that. Why don't you come inside and Connie will get your meal for you?”

She stood, holding the screen door open, her stubborn chin lifting a notch higher in the air. Her beautiful eyes didn't quite meet his. They seemed cold and remote, now. Not quite hostile, but almost. He felt her disapproval like a living thing and wondered what was wrong. What had he done? Since he'd mentioned that he fought wildfires for a living, she'd changed toward him, and he didn't understand why. Most people loved firefighters. They were considered heroes. A profession little boys dreamed about becoming part of when they grew up.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk with you for a few minutes,” he said.

She pursed her lips. “About what?”

“I have a job offer for you.”

She let go of the screen door and it clapped closed. She tucked a curl of reddish-gold hair back behind her ear, looking beautiful and vulnerable.

She indicated the diner, her brows lifting in an irritated frown. “I have a job already. I own this restaurant.”

“I know, but this would be right up your alley and shouldn't interfere with your café. I need a caterer. Someone who can prepare meals for the crews of men and women during the summer fire season coming up.”

She snorted. “I've got two kids. I can't flitter around, traveling from state to state to provide food to firefighters.”

“You wouldn't have to. I just need you for the fires we get in our own mountains, which shouldn't be too many. Tim Wixler told me you've done it before.”

Her mouth rounded and she hesitated. “Yes, but not anymore. I'm afraid it wouldn't work for me now.”

“You sure? I heard that you own a mobile kitchen and lots of tables and chairs.”

“Yes, that's true, but I've advertised all of my equipment for sale.”

“Then you know what the work entails. Since you're the only restaurant in town, I wanted to give you first dibs on the job. Reno is eighty miles away, so I thought I'd ask the locals first.”

Her frown stayed firmly in place, and he hurried on, wondering why he felt desperate for her to accept. “It's just for the summer and it wouldn't be dangerous. You'd be serving meals up at the fire camp, which would be far away from the fire.”

She gave a derogatory snort. “Yeah, it's safe. With all those big airplanes, bulldozers and pumper trucks driving around the place. No thanks.”

Hmm. Maybe she did have something against firefighters after all.

“It's good money. We pay top dollar.” He didn't know why he kept enticing her. She'd said no, but he'd noticed how shorthanded she was in the restaurant. That could be because someone had called in sick, or because she couldn't afford to hire more people. Whatever the cause, he felt certain that she needed the extra income. So why wouldn't she accept his offer?

“I'm not really staffed to cater meals to a bunch of unruly firefighters anymore,” she said.

Unruly firefighters? He was one of them. And from what he'd been told, her husband had been one, too. So why the animosity?

“I could help you get set up,” he offered. “If you can provide the equipment, workforce and prepare the food, I can provide you with the Cubitainers. I've even got two extra power generators I could let you borrow.”

Because she'd done this kind of work before, Megan should already know that Cubitainers were clear, square plastic containers for putting juice, milk and water in. They were stackable and easy to transport.

“I'd make it as painless as possible,” Jared continued. “All you and your people have to do is cook and serve the food to the crews for an occasional fire.”

Okay, he was trying too hard. And yet, he felt as though his future happiness depended on her acceptance. A crazy notion if ever he'd had one.

She shook her head. “No, I'm sorry. I can't.”

He flashed her a smile, determined not to be upset by her rebuttal. She must have her reasons for declining, and he couldn't fault her for it. “Okay, I understand. If you change your mind in the next few days, just say the word. I won't be going into Reno to approach other possible vendors there for another week or so. You've got time to change your mind.”

“I won't change my mind.”

“Well, just in case.” He reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out one of the new business cards his office manager had made up for him two weeks ago when he'd first arrived in town. Handing the card over to Megan, he noticed how her hand trembled as she took it. She barely glanced at it before sliding it into the pocket of her apron.

“Thanks.” She turned and went inside, leaving him to follow at his own pace.

She returned with a bucket of water a few minutes later. While she resumed her work in the restaurant, he dumped the water into the rusty garbage can. He checked on the fire one last time, satisfied that it was really out. Then, he went inside for his meal. It was delicious and he finished it way too soon. And when he tried to pay his bill, Megan refused to accept any money. Instead, he left a twenty-dollar bill tucked beneath his plate when she wasn't looking. A very tidy tip he thought she'd earned.

Walking out into the sunshine, he climbed into his blue pickup truck and drove home. But he couldn't help wishing that Megan Rocklin had accepted the catering job.

Chapter Two

“Y
ou should accept his offer,” Connie said.

“Whose offer?” Megan sat at the counter in the restaurant, refilling the salt and pepper shakers. Frank was in the kitchen, getting ready for the dinner hour. The kids were finally taking a nap in the back office. For a few brief minutes, Megan had not a single customer to wait on. But she knew that would soon change.

“Jared's offer. You should cater meals to the fire crews this summer.”

Yes, Megan knew who Connie was talking about. But she'd rather avoid the discussion. She'd been stunned when she'd discovered who Jared was and what he wanted. After Blaine's death, she figured she'd never cater meals to the firefighters again. And frankly, she wasn't mentally prepared to think about it now.

“No way. You know I've vowed to keep my distance from the firefighters. It's bad enough that many of my friends are hotshots I have to worry about. I don't want to go up on the mountain with them.”

“But you haven't sold your mobile kitchen yet. You still have all the equipment you need.”

Megan barely glanced up as she rolled a fork, knife and spoon in a paper napkin, taped it closed, then placed it into the basket they used to serve their customers. “That'll change as soon as I find a buyer.”

Connie caught a drip of pancake syrup as she refilled the smaller decanters from a gallon jug. “Look, Megan. You've had that mobile kitchen up for sale for months now, and no one has expressed any interest in buying it. So why not use it for something good? Being around them doesn't mean you'll fall in love with another firefighter—though there'd be nothing wrong with that. You've just got to feed them.”

True, but that wouldn't sway Megan. Being in the fire camp would be too much of a reminder of all that she'd already lost. “Give me boring and safe any day of the week.”

Connie frowned. “I don't know how you can limit love that way. When you fall for someone, you fall. Your heart doesn't care what he does for a living. I don't think you can stop it from happening just because their work might be dangerous.”

“That might be true, but I'm no longer willing to take the chance,” Megan insisted.

“I hope that's not true. It sounds kind of sad,” Connie said.

Megan snorted. “Not half as sad as trying to explain to my two children that their daddy won't be coming home because he was killed in the line of duty.”

Connie pushed aside the syrup bottles and reached out to hug Megan. “I know, sweetie. You've been through a lot and I'm so sorry. But please don't give up on love. You're a wonderful person and have so much to offer some good guy. One day, you're gonna meet someone special and have a long, wonderful life together.”

Megan just nodded, not really believing she could ever be so blessed to experience that kind of exquisite love a second time.

“Catering meals for the firefighters would still be great for your business,” Connie said.

That was true.

“But what would I do with Caleb and June? They'll soon be out of school for the summer and needing even more attention.”

“You could take them to child care.”

“Yes, but not overnight. I spend so little quality time with them as it is. When they're not in school, I hate for them to be out of my sight if it's not absolutely necessary.”

“So, take them with you. It'll be fun for them,” Connie said.

Megan arched one brow. “You mean up on the mountain?”

“Sure. They're well behaved and will stay close by while you deliver the food. They'll look at it as an adventure. You don't need to stay overnight and serve the meals. You can hire reliable people to do that for you.”

Megan couldn't argue with that. Connie made a valid point. She liked for her kids to see her working because they usually pitched in and helped. Megan knew that was also a great way of teaching children to have a good work ethic. “But we don't have enough people to run the restaurant and also go up on the mountain to feed all the fire crews. We're talking about hundreds of hungry men and women.”

Connie shrugged, looking undeterred. “So, hire more people to help you out. You've done it before. Summer is your busy time. Lots of hungry tourists coming through town. It also means that many high school students are out looking for jobs. In a dinky town this size, they're kind of limited on employment options. I have no doubt they'd love to chop lettuce and serve food for minimum wage. And the school lunch cooks are out of work, too. They'd love a summer job. If we have a forest fire, you can be the shuttle to drive the food up to the base camp every day. And June and Caleb can ride along with you. You get to spend time with them, and they'd have a good time. Problem solved.”

It sounded so simple when Connie put it that way.

“We could definitely use the money,” she said.

But catering meals meant she'd have to work around the firefighters. No doubt she'd end up seeing Jared Marshall now and then, too. And for some reason, being around the enigmatic FMO made her feel nervous and jittery inside. She didn't understand why, but she realized she liked the guy already.

“I'll help you,” Connie said.

“So will I,” Frank called from the kitchen.

Megan's face flushed with heat when she realized Frank had been listening in. She thought she was crazy to even consider taking on the job. But maybe Connie was right. The thought of earning enough money to bring her bills current was an enticement she couldn't resist. And if she refused to do the work this year, Jared might not ask her again next year. She'd be passed over while he hired some big restaurant out of Reno. It wouldn't be often. The surrounding mountains usually only had one or two fires each year. And she could always sell the mobile kitchen later on, after fire season was over with. But it wouldn't be wise for her to pass up this golden opportunity.

“Look, honey, I know you're still upset about losing Blaine, but this catering job is safe. And all you've got to do is say yes,” Connie said.

An abrasive laugh slipped from Megan's throat. “It's not safe no matter what you say, but I guess the fire camp should be harmless enough.”

“That's right,” Connie said. “And now that I've convinced you on this one thing, maybe you'll also listen to me regarding your love life. It's time to start dating again. You need a night out for a change.”

“Ha! I own the only restaurant in town and there's no movie theater. So what am I going to do on a date? Drive out and look at the lake?” Megan pursed her lips.

“It sounds kind of romantic to me. Cuddling up to a handsome man who has eyes just for you,” Connie said.

Megan didn't agree. Going on a date was as appealing to her as a case of the measles.

The bell over the door tinkled as a man and woman came inside. Connie hurried to wait on them, calling over her shoulder. “Think it over. Tim said he knows someone he'd like to set you up with. He told me to ask you about it.”

“Who is it?” Megan asked.

Connie shrugged as she pulled her notepad out of the pocket in her apron. “Beats me. Tim just said he's a nice, steady guy.”

Great. Steady and boring. But that was what Megan needed in her life. No more excitement. No more wildfires to make her anxious at night when she should be sleeping.

Connie provided their customers with menus and two glasses of ice water. In her heart, Megan knew dating another man wouldn't work. She didn't want to jump into another relationship. Not as long as she had June and Caleb to think about.

Still, she did consider the possibilities. A lot, in fact. As she served food and closed up the diner later that night, her thoughts trailed back to Jared Marshall. His smile alone was enough to make her heart beat faster.

After locking the front door, Frank walked with her and the sleepy children out to the parking lot and said goodbye. Standing beneath the dim glow of a streetlight, Megan let the frigid night air cool her work-flushed face. A heavy doubt blanketed her. A constant companion she couldn't seem to banish from her heart and mind.

As she buckled her two kids into their seats and closed the door, a chilling breeze smelling of rain swirled around her. She walked to the driver's side, thinking that the catering job wouldn't be too bad. It would be a lot of hard work, but that never frightened her. Loving and then losing someone to a wildfire was a different matter entirely. It absolutely terrified her. And she couldn't go through that again. No, not ever.

* * *

The microwave buzzed, letting Jared know his dinner was ready. Having just gotten home after a long day at work, he changed into his old blue jeans and a worn T-shirt. Switching off the light in his bedroom, he padded barefoot through the dark living room to the cheery lights of the kitchen. Reaching for a hot pad, he opened the microwave and slid his dinner onto the kitchen table. A frozen spaghetti- and-meatballs concoction from a cardboard container. Nothing fancy, and nothing like the meal he'd had at Megan's diner the day before, but it'd fill up his rumbling stomach.

The doorbell rang and he jerked his head around. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine twenty-eight. Who could be calling at this late hour?

Walking into the living room, he clicked on the porch light. Opening the door, he looked out. Megan Rocklin stood in front of him, wearing a light jacket and a worried frown.

“Mrs. Rocklin! Come in,” he said.

A whoosh of air rushed out of his lungs, and his senses kicked into overdrive. Wow! This was unexpected. Even with a mountain of work, he couldn't stop thinking about her throughout the day. He'd planned on going back to her restaurant, to ask her about the catering job one more time, but decided to let it drop. Now he was beyond startled to find her on his doorstep. In a town this size, he wasn't surprised that she knew where he lived, but what was she doing here?

“No, I can't.” She tossed a desperate look toward the street, as if she wanted to escape.

Beneath the glimmer of the porch light, she fidgeted, looking anxious. He caught sight of her old pickup truck parked in front of his house. Through the windows, he could just make out the tops of her two children's heads, snuggled together in sleep. A sweet feeling rushed over him. He liked these kids and their mother.

“Did you just get off work at the restaurant?” he asked.

“Yeah, we're on our way home now.”

He gazed at her face, delicate and pale in the dim night air. Lines of fatigue circled her expressive brown eyes. And in that moment, he realized how difficult life must be for her, running a business and raising two young children on her own.

“What can I do for you?” he asked. If only she'd agree to cater meals to the firefighters, he could bring her some lucrative work that might allow her to hire some more help.

She looked casual in faded jeans. Her blue tennis shoes matched the neck of her soft sweater almost exactly. In the restaurant, she'd worn her reddish-blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Just now, it lay in flowing waves across her shoulders, and he thought she must have pulled it loose and brushed it out before leaving work.

“I'm sorry to bother you at home so late at night, but this is the first chance I've had to get away from the diner,” she said, her face flushing a delightful shade of pink.

He caught her fragrant scent and took several deep inhales. He couldn't help contrasting her relaxed attire to the formal dress suits his ex-wife had worn all the time. After college, Sharon had wanted him to go into banking, like her father. Jared had almost done it, too. After all, his parents had died and he'd wanted to please his new wife and her family. But wearing uncomfortable suits and sitting in an office all day long didn't appeal to Jared. He loved his forestry work and being outdoors. Too late, he had realized that he and his wife had wanted different things from life.

“It's no problem. What can I help you with?” He smiled, genuinely pleased to see her again.

She glanced at the dark street, then ducked her head, clenching her delicate hands together like a lifeline. She cleared her voice and swallowed before speaking. “I was just wondering if the catering job is still available.”

He released a silent breath of relief, more than glad that he had put off going into Reno to ask another business to do the job. “Yes, it is. Are you interested?”

She hesitated several moments. “Yes, I think I am.”

He stepped forward, his fingers tightening around the doorknob. “Great. I'm glad to hear that.”

“But first, I've got a few questions.”

He lifted a hand in the air. “Of course. Ask anything. If I don't know the answer, I'll find out the information for you.”

She took a deep breath, as though she were about to plunge headfirst into an icy pool of water. “How much notice will I get when you need me to feed the fire crews?”

“About twenty-four hours. Is that enough?”

She nodded. “Yes, I think so. How many people will I need to plan on feeding?”

“Around four hundred. Some big fires require feeding two thousand people, but if we get to that point, I'll bring in some additional caterers. Although you'll also need to feed about fifty people at the spike camps. Those are remote camps which are mostly for smoke jumpers and hotshot crews. You won't need to go into the spike camp to serve the meals but rather prepare the food so we can fly it in by helicopter.”

Another nod. “Yes, I know what a spike camp is.”

His mouth dropped open. “That's right. Your husband was a firefighter, too.”

“Yes.”

He barely caught the word, she spoke so quietly.

“Would you be able to feed that many people?” he asked.

“Yes, I think I can manage that number just fine.”

“Good. I've got a watering trough we can fill with ice and then just dump the cans of soda pop and bottled water into it for people to grab and run. But you'll need to keep a large coffeepot hot and ready twenty-four hours a day,” he said.