Slow Burn: A Colorado High Country Novel (6 page)

* * *

E
ric had
his head on straight and his hormones under control by the time he and Victoria headed up the canyon toward Scarlet, where Austin and Lexi were hosting a cookout for the bridal party. He cranked the music and the AC. “Are you cool?”

“Yes, thanks. It’s so much hotter down here than it is in Scarlet Springs.” A slight puffiness to Victoria’s eyes was the only sign she’d been crying.

“That’s the altitude.”

“I should have guessed. Here, everything is about altitude.”

That made him laugh. “Just about.”

“I like your mom.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “She’s good people. She did right by me, even when it wasn’t easy. She raised me by herself, you know.”

Victoria nodded. “She told me.”

So they’d had that conversation. It figured.

“Have you ever met your father?”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t use that word to describe him. A father is a man who stands by his kids and their mother. That guy was a sperm donor—nothing more. He dumped my mom when she told him she was pregnant and never gave her a dime.”

“You don’t have any relationship with him?” She seemed to catch herself. “Sorry. That’s just me being nosy. I shouldn’t—”

“It’s okay.” Eric didn’t mind. He’d worked through that shit ages ago. “No, I don’t have a relationship with him. I tracked him down when I was seventeen, introduced myself, and found myself looking at an older version of my own face. He told me he had no sons and slammed the door. That was it.”

“God! I’m so sorry.” Those brown eyes went wide and soft. “I can’t imagine how you must have felt.”

“That day pretty much sucked, but I had good friends, a mother who loved me, lots of people who cared. Austin’s dad took us camping that weekend. He even let us drink a few beers.” He glanced over to find Victoria watching him. “When people make fun of small towns or talk down Scarlet, what they don’t get is that we’re a community. We might not always get along, but we’ve got one another’s backs. How many of your neighbors do you know? I know all of mine. Every last one.”

“That must be wonderful.”

“Most of the time. In my line of work, it also has its downsides.”

Silky, dark brows drew together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, there are fewer than fifteen-hundred people in Scarlet. About seventy percent of our calls are for emergency medical services, not fires. When someone has a heart attack or gets into a serious injury accident or shoots himself in the head, there’s a good chance I know him
and
his family.”

She was still watching him. “How do you cope with that? It must be hard enough to deal with people’s suffering when they’re strangers, but when you know them …”

“Yeah.” Faces and names slid through his mind—the living, the maimed, the dying, the dead. “People come up to me in the grocery store and on the street. They want to say thank you. Some have questions. They want to know if they could have done something differently. They’re searching for peace. I used to find that awkward. It made me uncomfortable. Now, I feel honored to play that role in their lives.”

He wasn’t sure that made any sense.

He glanced over to catch the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “What?”

“You are your mother’s son.”

“Yeah?” He’d take that as a compliment. “The two of you seemed to hit it off.”

“She said I set tongues wagging last time I was here.”

“She told you that?” It wasn’t like his mother to gossip.

“Is it true?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.”

“What did I do? Why would people talk about me?”

How was Eric going to explain this? He didn’t want her to think he was hitting on her, especially not after what he’d overheard this afternoon. “I hate to break it to you, Victoria, but you’re an incredibly beautiful woman.”

That hadn’t been creepy, had it? He hoped not. He considered it a feat of self-control that he’d managed to stop with that and hadn’t raved on.

She stared at him, disbelief on her face. “
That
is what people talked about?”

“Yeah. Is that so strange? ‘Hey, have you seen Lexi’s friend, Victoria? She’s gorgeous.’ You know—that sort of thing.” When she said nothing, he doubled down. “Come on. You know you’re above average in the looks department.”

He expected her to blush or smile or look at him from beneath those long, sooty lashes and say something flirty.

Instead, she looked away. “Thanks, I guess. A lot of good it’s ever done me.”

What the hell did she mean by that?

* * *

T
hey got back
to Scarlet Springs to find the group hanging out at Austin and Lexi’s place. Vic had seen it last year before Lexi had moved in. A large two-story log home, it had floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, a sleek kitchen, and an enormous back deck with a hot tub.

Lexi met Vic in the driveway with a big hug, Mack, Austin’s black lab, bounding at her heels. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Vic shrugged. “I thought it was the margarita.”

Eric came around the front of his pickup. “She needs to rest and drink lots of water. No alcohol—at least not tonight. And speak up if that headache comes back.”

Lexi hugged him, too. “Thanks for realizing what was happening.”

“That’s my job.” He headed for the back of the house, leaving Vic with Lexi.

Lexi turned to Vic again. “I saw him carry you to his SUV. Is something going on between you two?”

First Eric’s mother, and now Lexi.

“Of course not! I’m done with men.” Vic must have been flustered because her mouth took off without her. “The last thing I want right now is to hook up with some sexy, handsome, strong, single firefighter who carries women with altitude sickness off mountains and mows his mother’s lawn.”

One red eyebrow arched. “If you were trying to convince me, you blew it.”

On the back deck, Austin was grilling steaks on a big gas grill, a large cooler full of beer and soda nearby. “You made it just in time. How are you feeling?”

“I’m much better. Thank you.” She inhaled, the scent of sizzling beef making her mouth water. “That smells so good.”

Britta stepped out of the kitchen followed by Winona Belcourt, both women carrying large salads. They set the salads on a long wooden picnic table that was already laden with food, bowls covered with cellophane to keep out bugs.

“Hey, Victoria.” Winona reached to hug her, her dark hair hanging around her shoulders. “I heard the altitude got you. How are you?”

Winona was a veterinarian who ran a sanctuary for injured wildlife and the daughter of a hereditary Sun Dance chief. She had come to Colorado on the heels of her older brother, Chaska, who was also a Team member and one of Austin’s groomsmen—and perhaps the most handsome man Vic had ever met. Brother and sister had both fallen in love with the mountains and stayed. Lexi had volunteered for the sanctuary for about a year now, and she and Winona had become good friends. Lexi even got along with Winona’s big pet wolf, Shota.

“I’m better now. Thanks.”

Voices came from above, jerking Vic’s gaze toward the roof.

Eric stood up there, together with Chaska and Jesse.

“They climbed the chimney.” Lexi said this as if it were the sort of thing one did at a cookout. “Chaska’s testing a new self-belaying device he designed.”

The expression on Vic’s face must have been amusing because Winona laughed. “Climbing is a sickness you can’t cure. Have you met my brother?”

“Yes.” Vic’s gaze returned to the roof in time to see Chaska, his long dark hair tied back in a ponytail, drop over the other side of the house, while Jesse stood on the roof in a climbing harness, rope in hand.

Eric peered over the edge to watch, a big grin appearing on his face. “It works.”

By the time everyone was off the roof, Austin was pulling steaks off the grill, and it was time to gather around the table.

Vic found herself sitting next to Eric, the press of his hard thigh against hers more than a little distracting. She scooted closer to Lexi.

“I don’t bite,” he whispered, then added in a louder voice, “You got water?”

“Yes, Mom.” She held up her ice water as proof, just as Austin tapped a beer bottle with the blade of his steak knife.

“Before you dig in, I just wanted to thank you all for agreeing to stand with us.”

“Hey, I signed on for the beer,” Jesse joked.

“Your support has meant so much to us over the years, and it’s going to mean a lot on Saturday. Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

And there it was—that lump that formed in her throat every time she thought about Lexi getting married. She needed to knock it off, or she’d be a blubbering mess at the ceremony.

They had just started in on dessert—strawberry shortcake—when a
boom
shocked the air, stopping the conversation and turning everyone’s heads toward town.

Eric got to his feet, pager in hand before the tone sounded.

“They’re playing your song,” Austin said.

“Well, shit. It looks like Hank blew up his house. I told him to do that shit outside.” He slid his pager back onto the waistband of his jeans, his gaze shifting to Vic. “Want to come with me and see my team in action?”

Was he serious?

“Do you really mean that?”

From the distance, came the sound of sirens.

“You’ll have to stay in the truck—no getting out and getting me into trouble. Also, we have to leave
right now
.”

Excitement had her on her feet. She followed Eric as he hurried down the steps, calling over her shoulder to Lexi and Austin. “Thanks for supper. It was delicious.”

“Bring water!” Eric shouted back to her.

B
y the time
Vic had fastened her seatbelt, Eric was backing out of Austin and Lexi’s driveway, chatter coming over his radio, most of which she couldn’t understand.

He drove the quarter-mile stretch of dirt road down to the highway, stopping to wait for traffic before taking a left. “Hang on.”

He accelerated onto the road, reaching down to flick a switch on his dashboard.

Flashes of red, blue, and white light danced on the hood of his truck.

“Your truck has lights?” She hadn’t seen anything on the roof.

“They’re hidden behind the rearview mirror. There’s a set on the back window and one on the grill out front.”

“Clever.” She leaned forward to look behind the mirror, amazed that something so bright could be so small.

“I’ve got a siren mounted on the grill, and I’ll probably have to use it in town.” He glanced over at her, his serious demeanor disappearing for a moment behind a grin. “You’ve been riding around in a fire truck this entire time, and you didn’t know it.”

“I’m not going to lie. That’s pretty freaking cool.”

When they rounded the next curve, she saw it—the glowing orange of flames, black and white smoke rising skyward in a column. “Oh, God.”

Eric saw it, too. “Damn it, Hank.”

He turned up the radio, his brow creased as he listened.

Vic listened, too, but she understood only snatches of the conversation.

“Scarlet FD on the scene.”

“It’s fully involved now.”

“We’ve got an exposure on the Bravo side.”

“The RP is the homeowner. We’re all clear.”

Eric let out a relieved breath. “I’m going to kick Hank’s ass.”

Questions chased one another through Vic’s mind, but she didn’t want to distract Eric, so she kept them to herself. Why did he think the fire was Hank’s fault? How could he help at the scene if he didn’t have gear? How did they know for sure no one was trapped inside?

They came to the long downhill that led into town.

“Son of a …”

A stream of red taillights stretched out ahead of them, vehicles stopped bumper to bumper on the road all the way to the roundabout in the center of town. Some people had abandoned their cars and stood on the shoulder of the road, filming the column of smoke with cell phones.

“It’s human nature to want to watch shit like this, but why can’t they pull off the road first?” Eric reached down and flicked a switch, the wail of the siren making Vic jump. “God, I hate tourist season. The traffic is terrible, and the crime rate goes up.”

When people failed to get out of the way, he had no choice but to slow down and eventually stop. Twice he blasted the siren’s horn before drivers began to make way.

Vic couldn’t believe it. “What is wrong with people?”

“If I had the answer to that, I’d be filthy rich.”

Slowly, they made their way to the roundabout at the center of town, but rather than turning right and heading toward the fire, he moved through the roundabout, heading up the hill on the other side and making a left into the firehouse parking lot. Vic recognized it because Lexi, in a moment of pure evil, had arranged for Eric to give her a tour of the place last summer.

“Keep the doors locked. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Why lock the doors?”

He called back over his shoulder. “Tourists.”

Vic watched him jog inside the building, her gaze shifting to the column of smoke, which seemed thinner now. Did that mean the fire crews had almost put it out? Not even two minutes had gone by when Eric reappeared.

Oh
… wow!

Her heart skipped a beat.

He wore full bunker gear, helmet beneath one arm, air pack hanging from one hand. His yellow coat made his shoulders seem even broader, a look of determination on his face. He put the air pack in the back of his truck, then opened the door, climbed into the driver’s seat, and held out his helmet. “Can you hold this?”

“Of course.” She took it from him, surprised at how heavy it was.

They had to fight traffic again going the other direction, but people gave way more readily this time. The blaze was a couple of blocks away, so it was just a matter of minutes before Eric pulled up behind a big fire engine and parked. He silenced the siren, but left his lights flashing.

Ahead and to her right, a small white house was completely engulfed, flames lapping at the roof through shattered windows. Two teams of firefighters sprayed water on the blaze through two hoses, while another firefighter stood by himself, hosing down the neighbor’s roof to keep it from catching.

She rolled down the window, got a blast of hot air on her face. “Oh, man! I can feel the heat from here. How can anyone possibly get close to this?”

“That’s what the fancy suits are for.” He took his helmet from her, climbed out of the truck, walked around to her window. “You can keep the window down, but stay in the vehicle. Got it?”

“Yes, Mr. Fire Chief.” She saluted.

His lips quirked in a lopsided grin. “Damned straight.”

She watched him move through the scene, talking first with his crews, then with a sheriff’s deputy, then heading back her way. He walked over to a small, thin man with a scraggly ponytail and mustache who stood in the shadow of the fire engine. The man wore nothing but faded jeans, every vertebra and rib visible.

“Sorry to see you in this sad situation, Hank.”

So that was Hank. Vic had thought him just a spectator, maybe a neighbor who’d come down the street for a better view.

“Do you think they can save it?”

“Save your house? No, buddy. I’m afraid it’s gone.” Eric spoke in a voice that held both compassion and a sense of authority. “Are you hurt? If you are, we need to check you and get you patched up.”

“I’m fine.” Hank gave a little laugh. “You shoulda seen me, man. I jumped about twenty feet in the air and ran like a deer on speed.”

“When the fire is out and I walk in there, please tell me I’m not going to find a bunch of butane canisters and a big pile of weed.”

Hank’s gaze dropped to the ground.

“Damn it, Hank, I warned you. I told you that if you were going to break the law, at least do it outdoors. You’re damned lucky you’re not burned to a cinder.”

“I know. I know.”

Eric rested a hand on the man’s shoulder. “They’re going to arrest you, buddy, and there’s nothing I can do about that. You understand?”

His concern for Hank made Vic’s heart melt. He wasn’t just trying to ensure Hank’s safety and protect property. He was doing what he could to shepherd the man through this ordeal, even though it was of Hank’s own making.

“You think I should run, go to Mexico maybe?”

“No, I don’t. I think you should stand your ground and face the consequences. That’s the only way to move forward.”

“I’m afraid I’ll get pounded in the ass. I’m not like you, Hawke. I’m weak and small for a man. I’ll end up being some guy’s bitch.”

“Jesus, Hank. Prison isn’t what you see on TV. Besides, you don’t know that you’re going to prison. Take it one day at a time. I’ll make a few calls, get you a lawyer. I’m not going to let you face this alone.” He put his arm around Hank’s shoulders, the smaller man making him seem huge by comparison. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m pretty shook up, but I’m okay.”

“I’m going to get you a shirt.” He walked to his truck, opened the door, and grabbed a shirt out of the back—a Team T-shirt. “Megs will have my hide if she hears you wore this to jail, so let’s turn it inside out and just keep it between us, okay?”

And Vic’s heart melted again.

Hank pulled it over his head, the shirt far too big for him. “Thanks, Hawke. I’ll get this back to you one day.”

“I’m going to turn you over to Deputy Marcs now.” Eric motioned to someone.

“Hey, Hank.” A woman in uniform stepped into view. “Remember me? I’m Deputy Marcs. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m here to arrest you and take you in. I promise no one is going to hurt you tonight. We don’t run that kind of jail.”

By the time Hank was cuffed, searched, and headed down the street in the back of a squad car, the fire seemed to be under control, smoke rising from the gutted remains of the house.

Eric walked to the truck, grabbed his air pack out of the back, and then came to stand next to her open window. “I’ll give you one guess: Whose job is it to investigate fires in Scarlet?”

“Yours.”

He chuckled. “Brains
and
beauty. You’re the total package.”

If another man had said those words, it probably would have made Vic feel uncomfortable, but coming from Eric, it made her laugh. She watched while he donned his air pack and disappeared through the charred front door.

Five minutes went by. Another five.

Boom!

Flames flared out of one window, then vanished.

Vic’s heart leaped into her throat, her pulse taking off at a sprint.

Eric.

When the firefighters around her didn’t react, she figured everything must be okay. Eric was their chief. If he were lying there wounded or burned, they would be running inside to help him, not calmly going about their work.

When he emerged a few minutes later, she let out a sigh of relief.

And to think he did things like this every day.

* * *

“
B
utane hash oil extraction
,” Eric climbed into his truck, his bunker gear stashed in the bed of his vehicle so that it wouldn’t stink up the cab. Between smoke from the fire and the stench of burning weed, it reeked. “That was the cause of the fire.”

“I’ve never heard of that.”

He slipped the keys into the ignition, started the engine. “It’s illegal to do at home—and dangerous as hell. I counted ninety-four butane canisters. They were sitting right next to a big, old pile of weed. It’s a wonder Hank wasn’t incinerated.”

A woman on a bicycle cut in front of the truck’s headlights, headed straight for Hank’s place, what looked like a fat wad of twenties gripped in her right hand. When she saw a sheriff’s deputy squad car, she turned her bicycle around, cash disappearing into her fist.

“Jesus! Did you see that?” Eric couldn’t help but laugh.

Vic nodded. “Was she on her way there to buy drugs from him?”

“That’s what it looked like.” Eric nosed his truck into the street and headed back toward the station house. “Sometimes life in Scarlet feels like a bad Hollywood flick. Christ! You can’t make this shit up.”

“But isn’t it legal to buy marijuana here?”

“It is—if you buy it from a licensed seller. Hank doesn’t even have a driver’s license.” He glanced over at Victoria, found her watching him, a mysterious smile on those lips of hers. “What now? Did I say something funny?”

“You took good care of him.”

Eric shrugged off the compliment. “There wasn’t much I could do. Sometimes you’ve got to sleep in the bed you make.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Something in the tone of her voice made him remember the conversation he’d overheard this afternoon.

Could he help it if he wanted to know the whole story?

He changed the subject. “Hey, do you mind if we stop at the station first so I can drop off my gear?”

“Whatever you need to do.”

“Are you still drinking?”

She held up an almost empty bottle of water. “No headache.”

“Good.”

Back at the firehouse, he returned his gear to his locker and dropped the cylinder from his SCBA off in the compressor room. The initial response crew pulled in as he was leaving, men and women piling out of the apparatus, all of them reeking of ganja.

Silver passed him, air cylinder in hand. “The firehouse is going to have a skunk funk tonight, chief.”

It sure as hell would. “Great job, folks. Get your showers, and get the gear cleaned. And someone open a damned window.”

Back in the truck, he realized that funk had settled on him, mixing with smoke and sweat from doing yard work earlier today. God, he needed a shower.

But first, he needed to get Victoria back to the inn.

He started the engine again. “So, what did you think?”

“It was really interesting—except for the moment when I thought you were dead. After you’d gone into the house, I heard a
boom
, and flames shot out of the window.”

Oh, yeah. That.

“A box of butane canisters blew. That’s why I tell my crews always to wear full bunker gear when overhauling a scene like that, even when the fire seems like it’s out. You never know what kind of surprises might lie in store for you.”

“It scared me to death.”

Really?

“Sorry about that.” He reached over, took her hand, gave it a squeeze.

What the hell?

The moment his skin touched hers, he felt it—raw current arcing between them.

He drew his hand away, tried to act like he hadn’t felt a thing. “I’d say we should work on the video, but it’s already ten-thirty. You need to rest up.”

Tomorrow, Lexi and Austin were taking them horseback riding at the Cimarron, and he’d hate for to miss out on that, too.

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t sleep now if I tried. Besides, I got a three-hour nap in the middle of the day. If you want to work on the video for a while, that’s fine with me. I can show you what I got done last night.”