Adam looked up into the pale blue eyes of the mother of all those children.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice clear despite all the confusion around them.

“No problem,” he ground out between more coughing.

“Do you always do that?” Carly asked.

“Do what?”

She crouched beside his stretcher. “Deflect a compliment. I was thanking you for saving my son from the fire. And Molly. What you did was extraordinarily brave. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

He gave her a tiny salute and muttered, “All in the line of work,” then lay back down. Molly the dog was lying on the stretcher beside his, apparently playing dead except that her tail was wagging.

Adam closed his eyes.

Dear Reader,

I’m delighted to bring you the fourth book of The O’Malley Men series, which is also a Creature Comforts title.

Many of my readers have been intrigued by youngest brother, Adam, the firefighter. He’s been an enigmatic figure in my previous books, Colorado Christmas, The Sheriff and the Baby and Colorado Cowboy, drifting in and out of family gatherings, never really connecting with anyone.

So, to make Adam reveal his true self, I’ve had him move back to his hometown of Spruce Lake. Only problem is, moving back to the town he escaped when barely out of his teens has forced Adam to confront the demons from his past.

Adam is good at pretending that nothing touches him, but he’s a dedicated firefighter. Hailed a hometown hero when he saves both a toddler and a dog from a burning building, Adam tries to shy away from the accolades, knowing he’s no hero. Instead, he’s been harboring a dreadful secret and he’s convinced that when the town discovers the truth, he’ll be condemned instead of praised.

But of course the large and gregarious O’Malley clan isn’t letting Adam hide from either them or his past. Add to the mix the mother of the toddler, Carly Spencer, who refuses to let Adam get under her skin.

Adam is in for the ride of his life with Carly, her four children, his matchmaking mother and Molly the basset hound.

I love hearing from readers. You can email me at cc@cccoburn.com. Please watch for the fifth and final installment of The O’Malley Men, when we finally learn why Jack left the seminary to become a master carpenter—and when an old flame comes to Spruce Lake and turns his life upside down.

Happy reading and healthy lives!

C.C. Coburn

Colorado Fireman

C.C. COBURN

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Many thanks to

Battalion Chief Neil “Rosie” Rosenberger and Captain Derek “Goose” Goossen of the Red, White and Blue for their invaluable assistance and patience with my research. It’s encouraging to know our safety is in the hands of such capable men.

Remedial massage therapist Lynn Creighton for her help and insights into what is involved in massage therapy and for her amazing massages.

And my dear friends, equine veterinarian Dr. Holly Wendell and horse-rescuer Helen Lacey for again patiently educating me about horses.

Any errors or discrepancies in this story are the fault of the author and in no way reflect the expertise of the aforementioned.

Chapter One

Desperate for more air, Firefighter Adam O’Malley cracked open the bypass on the regulator leading to his airpack.

The smoke inside the apartment building in Spruce Lake, Colorado, was thick and filled with lethal fumes. His helmet light shone through the gloom, barely illuminating his path as combustible materials manufactured in the seventies ensured the building burned fast and hot. Thankfully, the positive pressure inside his face mask prevented the noxious wastes from entering through its seals.

Adam heard the unmistakable whimper of a child and turned toward it.

He’d promised the mother he’d bring her toddler out alive. His vow had been the only thing that kept her from racing into the burning building to save her son.

Adam hadn’t lost a victim yet and today wasn’t going to be his first, not if he could help it.

Dropping to all fours, he crawled along the floor, where the smoke was less thick, toward the child. He spotted the little guy because of his diaper, a white beacon in an otherwise blackened world. He was on the floor beside his crib, hands stretched out, tears running down his chubby cheeks.

How could anyone have left a kid behind? he wondered as he ripped open his bunker coat, lifted the child into his arms and placed him inside its protection, talking to him in soothing tones. “It’s okay, little guy. I’ve got you now. We’ll see your mom in no time,” he assured the child, praying their exit hadn’t been blocked by falling beams or other debris.

He picked his way back out of the apartment, his body and jacket shielding the boy who clung to him, whimpering. The deafening sounds of fire consuming everything in its path—timber splintering, walls exploding, windows shattering—followed Adam as he moved down the stairs, testing each step to ensure it was still intact. Moments later, they were outside in the bright winter sunshine.

The child’s mother broke from Captain Martin Bourne’s hold and rushed toward them. Tears streaming down her face, she muttered incoherently as she tried to take the child from his arms. But Adam wasn’t giving up his charge just yet. The paramedics needed to check him over, so he grabbed her with his free hand and directed her to the ambulances waiting nearby.

He’d just extracted the child’s deathlike grasp around his neck when the mother screamed and raced back toward the building.

“Don’t tell me she’s got another kid!” Adam yelled at his captain as he ran to intercept the woman.

Then he noticed she was chasing after one of the kids they’d rescued earlier. He was running back into the building. What was it with this family?

Adam had always been quick on his feet, and in spite of the cumbersome firefighting gear he wore, he managed to overtake the mother, warning her to “Get back!” as he passed her.

He caught up with the kid, threw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and returned to where Martin was trying to calm the mother. The kid kicked and screamed and beat at Adam’s back but the blows slid off his bunker jacket, slick with water from the fire hoses.

He put the kid down but the boy spun away, intent on running into the building. Adam reached out one arm, snagged the child and hunkered down in front of him.

“What do you think you’re doing, son? We got all your family out,” he said.

“M … M … Molly’s in there.”

Adam glanced up at the mother. “You’ve got another kid?” Sheesh, how many did this woman have? Four frightened children had been extracted from the building and she looked as if she was hardly out of her teens.

“Tiffany was babysitting my children,” the mother explained. “She got my oldest three children out.”

Served him right for making that comment about her having another kid.

“Molly is the Polinskis’ dog,” she said.

“How do you know she isn’t already out?”

The woman indicated two elderly people being loaded into ambulances. “They’d never go anywhere without Molly.”

Except from a burning building, Adam wanted to say.

“Mrs. Polinski told me she’s still inside!” the child yelled over the sound of more parts of the building collapsing. “She wants me to get her!”

Adam closed his eyes. Some days he hated his job. There was no way he’d find the poor animal. Not until long after the fire was out …

“Son, it’s too late to get her,” Adam said in as soothing a voice as he could muster. What the hell were the old people thinking? Expecting a kid to go rescue their dog?

As if reading his mind, a hound of some kind howled mournfully. Another of the woman’s children screamed, this one a girl of about six. “Please! Get Molly!” she cried.

Adam wished everyone would calm down and stop yelling.

“Which apartment is she in?” he asked as the dog continued to howl.

The woman pointed up to the third floor. “The one on the end, next to ours.”

Adam looked into the eyes of his battalion chief and knew he was going to refuse.

“Wait till the ladder truck gets here. We’ll reassess the situation then,” Chief Malone said.

Adam released the boy and stood. “You know I can’t leave her there, Chief,” he said and, without waiting for his go-ahead, turned back toward the building.

His battalion chief’s warning shout ringing in his ears, Adam sprinted up the stairs to the third level. As he did, they collapsed beneath him. He leaped the last couple of steps and landed heavily on his face, smashing his face mask and breaking the connection to his air supply. The mask filled with acrid smoke.

Ripping it off, Adam crouched down and crawled toward the sound of a dog scratching frantically on the other side of a door at the end of the hall. Adam had no idea how people could leave their precious pets behind in a fire. Or any other disaster, for that matter.

Coughing because of the smoke, he opened the door.

Inside, he found the saddest-looking dog in the world. Without wasting a second, he scooped up the basset hound, headed across the room to the window and kicked through it.

As the glass shattered onto the snow-covered ground below, he gulped fresh air into his lungs. “Ladder!” he yelled, but his voice was a harsh squawk.

Since the stairs had collapsed, the ladder truck was their only way out of the building. If it hadn’t arrived, he and Molly were toast. Literally.

Irritated by the smoke, he blinked, forcing his eyes to water. A shout came from below as someone spotted him. Adam waited and prayed, sucking in huge lungfuls of air. Finally, the truck swung its ladder around toward him.

The terrified young dog squirmed in his arms. “Easy, girl,” he murmured as he swung his leg out over the ledge and waited until the bucket attached to the ladder was within reach.

The smoke billowing out of the window behind him was growing thicker, choking him and the dog, who was now squirming and coughing so much he could barely hold her. He glanced back to see flames licking through the apartment’s doorway. The entire building was in imminent danger of collapse.

The bucket finally reached Adam’s precarious ledge and he stepped into it. “Everything’s okay, girl,” he said as they cleared the building. “We’ll have you down in a moment.”

His tone seemed to calm her and she settled in his arms, whimpering softly as they were lowered to the ground.

Once there, he was immediately surrounded by other firefighters. Molly licked his face. That small act of gratitude drained the tension of the past few desperate minutes from Adam’s body. He smiled and ruffled her ears. She was grubby with soot, and the soot covering the gloved hand he was petting her with wasn’t helping but he was too spent to pull off his gloves.

Exhausted, he allowed Martin Bourne to take her from his arms, then fell onto the stretcher under a triage tent set up by the EMT who was attached to their firehouse. After she’d placed an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, she fitted another one on Molly, who lay on a stretcher beside him.

The dog was coughing pretty badly. “Look after her,” Adam croaked, pushing the EMT’s hand away as she began to wash out his burning eyes.

She ignored him and continued squeezing liquid into his eyes, then checked his vitals. He closed his eyes against the pain in his lungs and tried to relax in spite of his still-racing heart.

The flash from a camera bored through his eyelids. He looked up into the lens of Ken Piper, photographer for the local paper. “How does it feel to be a hero, Adam?” he asked.

Adam grunted.

“How about one of you and the dog? Smile!” Molly was lying on her back, all four legs in the air. She’d stopped coughing, so it was hard to tell if she was dead, playing dead or wanted her tummy rubbed. Ken’s camera flashed again, then he melted into the crowd.

“Adam!” Hearing the familiar sound of his mother’s voice, he opened his eyes again. Sure enough, his mom was elbowing her way through the crowd gathered around him and Molly.

He felt about twelve years old as he looked into his mom’s piercing blue eyes and she glared down at him.

Positive that he was in for a lecture, he offered her a sheepish grin. “I got her out,” he said, reaching across to rub Molly’s tummy, hoping his mom would go easy on him since she was an animal lover. He didn’t need a dressing-down in front of everyone.

“You sure did, darling,” Sarah said, and dropped to her knees beside Adam and threw her arms around him. “I’ve never seen anything braver in my life.”

She hugged him so fiercely the air whooshed out of his lungs, which started a coughing jag that felt as if daggers had been plunged into his chest.

“Careful, Mrs. O’Malley,” his captain said. “Your son’s just saved a baby, an elderly woman and a dog. Give him breathing room. There’s little enough oxygen at this altitude as it is.”

His mom drew back and cupped his cheek, making Adam feel like an eight-year-old instead. Why didn’t she do this to any of his other brothers? Being the youngest of five boys was a curse. Since he was about to turn thirty, you’d think she’d accept that he was an adult now.

His mother’s voice shook as she said, “I’ve never been prouder of any of my sons than I am today.” Then she burst into tears.

Adam didn’t know what to do. His mother rarely let her emotions show—except when she was really angry—but now she was in all-out blubbering mode.

Luckily, Martin was good at dealing with emotional women and led his mom away, shouting over his shoulder at his men, “Find out if there’s a veterinarian in the crowd to check out that dog.”

Adam rubbed his eyes, unsure if his vision was blurred by the smoke or by his reaction to his mom’s emotional display. Guaranteed, she’d be talking about this for a few years to come.

He’d been back in Spruce Lake less than a week and he’d had to fight his first big fire.

And then his mom had shown up. Great! Just great.

One of the reasons Adam had postponed returning to his hometown to fight fires was because of this very situation. He didn’t want any of his family seeing the risks he took. His brother Matt, the county sheriff, knew full well the dangers of firefighting, but Adam had always played down the risks when discussing his job with his family.

There was another reason he’d stayed away from Spruce Lake. The reason he’d spent half his life trying to run from his hometown. Someday soon, he needed to confront that.

Adam rubbed his eyes again and started to sit up. He needed to get out of there, but found himself pushed back down as the paramedic washed out his eyes again. “I’m fine,” he protested.

“I decide when you’re fine,” she said, placing the oxygen mask over his face again. “Breathe,” she commanded. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ve got other firefighters to see. It’s not all about you, Adam—you dog-rescuer, you.” He could hear the gentle sarcasm in her voice.

“Don’t hurry back,” he muttered, and closed his eyes, breathing in the cool air, feeling it surge into his lungs, restoring the O2 levels to his bloodstream. He coughed again and sat up, then removed his mask and coughed up black goop that had gotten into his lungs. He spat it out.

Only it landed on a pair of white sneakers. He looked up into the pale blue eyes of the mother of all those children.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“No problem,” he gasped between more coughing. “Anything else you want me to spit on?”

“Do you always do that?” she asked.

“Do what?”

She crouched beside him. “Deflect a compliment. I was thanking you for saving my son. And Molly. What you did was extraordinarily brave. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

He gave her a tiny salute, muttered, “All in the line of work,” and lay back down. He didn’t want to talk to this woman. To anyone. He wanted a long shower and clean sheets. Cool, clean sheets.

CARLY SPENCER STOOD for a moment watching the firefighter who’d saved her son Charlie’s life, knowing he’d shut his eyes to get rid of her.

She’d wept as he carried Charlie out of the burning building. She’d been so sure he wouldn’t be found. Jessica, the babysitter she’d hired to care for her children after school, had been sick today and sent a friend to fill in for her.

Since today, the last day of school before the February break, had been declared a snow day, although the weather had turned unexpectedly mild, so it was actually more of a slush day, her three oldest children were home. And since Carly had back-to-back massage appointments booked at the Spruce Lodge spa—and God knew, she needed the money—she’d had to get moving and hadn’t taken enough time to run through the children’s routines with Tiffany. The girl had obviously panicked and forgotten all about eighteen-month-old Charlie sleeping in the bedroom that was farthest from the living room.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Spencer!” she’d cried as Carly pulled up in her vehicle in front of the burning building. “There was this huge explosion and all I could think about was getting the kids out…. But then when we got down here, I remembered the baby was sleeping in the back room.”

Her words had sliced into Carly’s heart. Without hesitating, she’d raced into the building and collided with a firefighter who was coming out with Mrs. Polinski in his arms.

He’d handed the old woman to a colleague and grabbed Carly by the arms.

“You’re not going in there!” he’d yelled through his mask.

“My baby’s inside!” she screamed. “I have to get him out!”

“Which floor?”

“Third. First door on your right!”

The words had scarcely left her mouth when he released her and ran back into the building as another firefighter carried Mr. Polinski outside.

Someone grasped her by the shoulders. “Come over here away from the danger, ma’am,” he said. “Adam will find your baby.”

The man seemed confident of Adam’s ability to find one tiny little boy in a huge inferno, but the sound of the building disintegrating and the amount of smoke billowing from the windows and doorways eroded her hope that the firefighter would get to Charlie in time.

Alex, Jake and Maddy had huddled around her, trembling with fear and shock. Carly hugged them close and waited.

She’d felt a prickle of apprehension go up her spine—as if someone was watching her. She glanced around at the crowd. Of course people are watching you, she chastised herself. Still, the sensation was so weird…. She searched the faces, but saw no one familiar. Shrugging it off, she put it down to her fears for Charlie.

When the firefighter returned, holding Charlie protectively beneath his coat, she’d rushed to take her son from him.

But then Alex had raced back toward the building to find Molly. Carly hadn’t had time to wonder about the Polinskis leaving her behind; maybe everything had happened too quickly for anyone to think rationally. The fact that her babysitter had left Charlie behind was evidence enough of that.

The firefighter had charged into the building to rescue Molly. Carly had held her breath, fearing for his and Molly’s lives. And then she’d heard the glass shattering as he’d kicked out the window. The smoke was so thick as it poured out of the window that she couldn’t see him clearly. But Carly knew without a doubt it was the heroic firefighter who’d saved her son, and now he’d saved Molly.

She’d needed to thank him and had waited until he’d been checked out by the EMT before approaching. But then an older woman had come by and made a fuss over him. She’d soon realized the woman was his mom. And she was annoying her son. Carly smiled. She would’ve acted in exactly the same way had it been one of her children who’d acted so fearlessly.

“ADAM? WHAT THE …?”

He opened one eye to find Dr. Lucy Cochrane on the other side of the stretcher.

Lucy knelt beside him, opened his jacket and put her stethoscope to his chest. The EMT had already checked his signs and was now working on some of his colleagues. Adam didn’t have the energy to point that out to Lucy so he let her examine him. She was an old school buddy of his brother Matt’s. Bossy, but a good friend to the family. And if Lucy was around, the woman with too many kids might leave him alone. She made him uncomfortable.

Made him yearn for things he’d denied himself for too long.

“I heard you’d come back to town. Just as well, or that dog might not have survived. Brave boy.” She patted his cheek.

Adam resisted the urge to groan. His older brothers’ friends still acted like he was a kid. And they all wondered why he couldn’t wait to get out of town once he’d finished high school. If they’d known the truth, they sure wouldn’t think he was so heroic.

Lucy listened to his chest and nodded. “Keep breathing,” she said, and put the mask back on his face.

“Thanks. I intend to,” Adam said with a note of gentle sarcasm as Lucy did a thorough exam under the watchful eyes of the toddler’s mother. He thought again that she looked way too young to have so many kids. She resembled Meg Ryan—skinny legs, flyaway blond hair—and she seemed so vulnerable that Adam experienced an unwanted but overwhelming urge to protect her.

He wondered where all her kids were now. Had she managed to misplace one of them again? And where exactly was her husband?

Lucy departed with a promise to return again soon. Adam closed his eyes, then jumped as something wet and slimy collided with his cheek. He opened his eyes. Louella, Mayor Frank Farquar’s pet pig, was standing over him. He wiped the slobber with the back of his hand. What the hell was Louella doing at a fire?

She grunted at him and went to shove her snout against his face again, but Adam pulled away in time. That was when he noticed Louella’s feet. She was wearing bright red rubber booties.

“What the hell?”

“Who knew old Lou doesn’t like the feel of snow between her dear little trotters?” his brother Will said from behind Louella.

“A pig in rubber boots. Now I’ve seen everything,” Adam said. Could this day get any weirder?

“You did good, little brother,” Will told him. “Lou was only showing her appreciation.”

Adam groaned. Will and Louella had, in Adam’s opinion, an unnatural relationship. Will didn’t mind hanging out with Louella and, stranger still, she didn’t mind hanging out with him.

He and Will were opposites. Will loved everyone and they all loved him. So did their animals. Adam had always found social situations difficult and preferred his own company, much like his older brother Luke, who ran the family ranch.

A camera flash went off in his face just as Louella swooped in again. “You put that in the paper, Ken, and you’re dead,” Adam growled through clenched teeth.

“Hey, your ugly mug will be all over the paper tomorrow,” Ken said. “Human interest, you know.”

“Or porcine …” Will said with a grin.

“Go away. Both of you,” Adam said. “And take her with you.”

“Come on, Lou. I’m sure we can find someone who appreciates your affectionate advances.”

Adam watched as Louella trotted off behind Will, her bright red boots contrasting with the snow. She paused and glanced back at him. “Don’t even think about it!”

Louella snorted and turned to follow Will.

“Darling!”

It was his mom again. Adam sighed. “Spare me from women,” he begged skyward.

“You don’t like women?” the mother with too many kids asked. She was holding one of her kids—the toddler he’d rescued. He was perched on her hip, but looked way too heavy for someone as small as her to be carrying around.

“He comes from a family of brothers,” his mother said, completely ignoring the fact that Adam was about to answer for himself. “Unfortunately, he doesn’t relate to the opposite sex very well.” She offered her hand to the woman. “I’m Sarah O’Malley, by the way.”

Adam wasn’t about to tell her he related perfectly well to women. Just not to bossy ones. Like his mom. And Lucy. And now this nosy woman with black spit all over her sneakers.

“Carly Spencer,” the woman said, giving her own hand to his mom to shake.

“So nice to meet you, dear, in spite of the circumstances,” Sarah said. “Of course I blame his father,” she continued. “The male decides the sex of the baby. After five boys I said enough!”

Lucy had returned to check on Molly, since the vet hadn’t arrived yet, and chuckled at his mom’s remark. Adam saw Carly Spencer’s mouth turn up in a smile. She’d be even prettier if she smiled more often. Still, she didn’t have much to be happy about, since her home had just gone up in flames.

“Ouch!” he yelped as Lucy reached over and prodded him.

“She’s only trying to help, darling,” his mother pointed out. “If you can’t be more civil, you’ll never find anyone to marry you.”

“Sometimes your conversation defies logic, Mom,” he muttered through the mask. He pulled it away from his face so she couldn’t mistake his words. “And I’m not looking for a wife,” he said, hoping she’d go away. And take the Carly woman with her.

“Oh, my God, you’re gay!” his mom said, as if this was a revelation that explained everything—his unmarried state, his aversion to moving back to his hometown, possibly even the cause of global warming.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course,” she added quickly.

“I’m not gay.”

“You’ve never had a relationship.”

“Trust me, Mom, I’ve had relationships.”

“With women?”

“Of course with women! Mom, seriously, you’re acting weird.”

“I just want to ensure the continuation of the O’Malley line.”

“Last count, you had seven grandkids. The O’Malley line is safe.”

“But …”

Adam forced himself to sit up. “Once and for all, Mom. I am not gay!”

Everything seemed to freeze—the chattering of bystanders, the whine of emergency vehicles, even the sound of water gushing from the fire hoses.

Heads swiveled in Adam’s direction. His colleagues, several of whom had stood down now the blaze was under control, turned toward him and stared. Louella snorted.

The television crews zeroed in on a developing human interest story. The Carly woman shifted her kid to the other hip and smiled.

Adam groaned.

His mom looked as if she wanted to argue further. Adam lay back down, replaced the oxygen mask over his face and closed his eyes.

Moments later, he heard his mother huff and go off in search of someone else to pester.

“Your mom seems concerned about you.”

“She’s concerned about everyone. Unfortunately, she’s insanely overprotective of me.” He wanted to assure her he wasn’t gay, but what was she to him? No one important. Just the mom of a kid he’d rescued. He’d never see her again after today. What did it matter what she thought about his sexuality? What did it matter what anyone thought? Even his mom.

“You’re the youngest?”

He opened an eye. “How’d you guess?” He felt he had to at least try to be polite, since this woman had just lost her home. In reality, he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Especially anyone of the female sex. Between his mom’s nagging, this woman’s nosiness, Lucy’s brutal treatment, Molly the dog and Louella the pig slobbering on him, he’d had his fill of females for the day. What he really wanted was to take a long shower, have a beer and maybe watch a hockey game on TV with his dad. His dad rarely talked, never nagged. Mac O’Malley, patriarch of the O’Malley clan, was probably his best friend in the world. Pity Adam would never be able to talk about the night Rory Bennett died, even with Mac.

“Mothers have a special place in their hearts for the baby of the family.”

Did this woman ever shut up? Adam wondered. He was so sick of being called the baby of the family.

“Ma’am?” Adam was thankful when his captain’s voice intruded. He wanted to sleep instead of being surrounded by chattering people. Most of them women. “Your kids have all been cleared by the paramedics. You’re good to go.”

“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” she said. Then her lip quivered.

Oh, no, here come the tears, Adam thought.

Sure enough, the woman started to cry.

“Hey, there,” Lucy said, patting her back. “Your children are fine.” She pulled out her cell. “Who can I call for you? Do you have family nearby or friends you can stay with?”

The woman shook her head and staggered away.

Adam had never seen anyone look so desolate in his life. And he’d seen a lot of sorrow during his years in this job.

“Oh, my goodness.” His mom appeared out of nowhere and went to comfort the woman. She glared at Adam over her shoulder, as if he was the cause of her misery.

Adam strained to hear what they said to each other, then gave up. Lucy had given him the all clear, and Martin had released him from duty for the rest of his shift. It was time to head home and hit the shower. He sat up and glanced around. There were even more spectators than when he’d brought the dog down the ladder.

He could see his brother Matt conferring with the television crew. Matt was nodding his head. He turned in Adam’s direction and waved. Then he smiled. Matt rarely smiled.

As a youngster, Adam had held out for praise and encouragement from his big brother. He’d come to learn that exuberance wasn’t Matt’s way. A wave and smile would be all the compliment Adam could expect.

He stood too quickly and stumbled, but was caught by Matt’s strong arms before he hit the ground. “Hey, easy there, kid,” he said. “Sit down for a bit.”

Exhausted, Adam could only shake his head. “Need to get out of here. Take a shower.”

Molly was still lying on her back playing dead—except her tail was wagging. Matt bent down and rubbed her tummy. She rewarded him with a squirm of pleasure.

“The television people want to interview you.” Matt indicated the crew he’d been speaking to behind the police cordon.

“What for?” Adam looked away from their prying cameras. “I was just doing my job.”

He felt Matt’s hand on his shoulder and welcomed its warmth. “You’re a hero, little brother.”

He hated that word. He was no hero. “Like I said, I was just doing my job. Do you do interviews every time you arrest some bad guy?”

“You saved the life of a child and a dog. You know how this town loves dogs.”

“Then tell ‘em to donate generously to the pound.” Adam was fed up with talking. “Where’s your vehicle?” he asked. “Can you drive me home?”

Matt crossed his arms in a gesture that said he wasn’t pleased. “Since you live at home, why don’t you have Mom take you?”

“Because I want peace and quiet, not Mom alternating between singing my praises and getting hysterical about how risky my job is.”

“Mom is never hysterical.”

“You didn’t see her earlier.”

“Darling!”

“Speak of the devil,” Adam muttered as their mother returned.

“Could you drive Adam home?” she said to Matt. “Carly and her children don’t have anyone to stay with, so I’ve offered them the apartment over the stables for as long as they need it. Molly’s coming, too.”

What am I? Chopped liver? Adam felt like asking. Instead, he said, “In case you’ve forgotten, Mom, I’m living in the apartment over the stables.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that, darling, but I’m moving you into the house so Carly and her little brood can have some privacy. You don’t mind, do you?” Without waiting for his answer, she turned away and directed the Carly woman and her children toward her SUV.

Adam stared after her. “Is this the same person who, last week when I returned home, practically kissed the ground I walked on?”

“The very same,” Matt said. “You know Mom can’t resist a waif, and now she’s got five of them to care for. Correction—six.” Matt indicated Molly being lifted from her stretcher by one of the firefighters and carried to his mom’s vehicle.

“Can I stay at your place?” Adam begged. Matt and his wife, Beth, lived in a large home their brother Jack had built them in a picturesque valley outside town. Adam would love to live in that same valley one day. Someday. After he’d confronted his demons.

“Sure. I did tell you Sarah’s teething, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t. Now that you mention it, maybe I would be better off at home,” Adam said, and followed Matt to his vehicle. Although where he’d sleep, Adam had no idea, since one of his three nieces was occupying his old bedroom.

As it turned out, his tomboy of a niece Daisy was only too happy to give up her room to her “hero” uncle. So Adam slept among her animal posters and woke up during the night with a lump under the mattress that turned out to be a stirrup. He pulled it out, tossed it on the floor, coughed up more black goop and went back to sleep.

Chapter Two

Awakened the next morning by pandemonium from the kitchen, Adam recognized the deep pitch of several of his brothers’ voices and an occasional “Shh!” from his mom.

He stumbled out of bed, washed his face but didn’t bother shaving and went downstairs, hungry enough to eat one of their prize black Angus steers all by himself. He’d missed dinner since he’d taken the much-wanted shower and fallen into bed, exhausted, and slept through the night.

Sunday mornings, the family usually gathered at Two Elk Ranch for breakfast. However, today was Saturday, Adam noted as he strode into the kitchen, a huge room that accommodated the family dining table. Today it was packed to overflowing with all his brothers.

“Here he is!” Celeste, his youngest niece, cried and ran to him, her arms outstretched.

Adam bent to lift Celeste the way he’d done a hundred times before, but as he did, a muscle twitched with pain. He grunted and nearly dropped her.

His reaction had most of the occupants of the kitchen rushing forward to help him. He held out a hand to restrain them and ruffled Celeste’s hair. “Next time, kiddo,” he said. “I must’ve put out something in my back.”

He rubbed at the spot, but couldn’t quite reach it.

“Then it’s lucky Carly is a massage therapist,” his brother Will said. He came around the table to clap Adam on the back, making him wince. “And in case I didn’t say it yesterday, well done, little brother. Anyone who saves a dog is good people in my book.”

Speaking of the dog, he wondered where she was. Adam tried not to groan as Will slapped him again.

“You should have Carly look at that,” his mom said.

“I’d be happy to.”

Adam glanced around and found the woman with too many children, with the littlest one perched on her hip. She seemed slightly less vulnerable than she had the last time he’d seen her. The toddler’s face was covered with goo that might or might not have been oatmeal. He smiled and waved at Adam. Adam forced himself to smile back. He smiled at the mom, too—but not an overly friendly smile, since she and her kids were responsible for getting him booted out of the apartment above the stables.

He wished he could disappear. He wasn’t comfortable with crowds, even if he was related to most of the people there. How he missed the seclusion of that apartment.

Then his eyes fell on the newspaper spread across the table and his stomach lurched. The headline, Hometown Hero, glared up at Adam, along with a photo of him carrying the child out of the burning apartment building. A smaller one showed him and Molly lying on their stretchers side by side. Unfortunately, it also featured Louella kissing him. The caption beneath read Mayor’s Pet Pig Thanks Heroic Firefighter Adam O’Malley.

Adam hated seeing the word hero associated with his name. He was no hero. Heroes didn’t let their friend take the rap for a fatal car accident.

His dad came forward and clapped him on the back. Like his two oldest sons, Luke and Matt, Mac O’Malley was a man of few words. Adam figured his mom more than made up for it. He didn’t expect his dad to say anything, so when Adam saw tears brimming in his eyes, he nodded and let his dad pass by him and leave the kitchen.

His brother Jack came over and was about to clap him on the back, too, but Adam held up his hand and Jack dropped his. “Sore, eh, buddy?” Jack asked, and Adam nodded.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jack said. Then tears welled in his eyes, as well.

Oh, jeez, this was what he didn’t need, an outpouring of emotion from the O’Malley men. Although he and Jack were separated in age by only eleven months, they were pretty much opposite in temperament. Jack wore his heart on his sleeve; Adam wasn’t sure if he even had a heart.

Coming back to town had been a bad idea. He shouldn’t have accepted that one-month posting to Spruce Lake to cover an absence in the department. He should’ve gone somewhere else in Colorado. Anywhere else! But his mom had pressured him to take the posting, saying he was missing out on seeing his nieces and nephews growing up.

Adam had enough guilt to deal with, so he’d agreed to the job, telling himself it was only for a month. He could survive a month without having to get too close to anyone or having to care too much. And then he could return to Boulder, where no one knew anything about his past and no one ever pried into his private business.

“Thank you for saving Molly, mister.”

Adam looked down into the pale blue eyes of the Carly woman’s daughter. Sheesh! Her eyes were brimming, too.

He patted her on the head. “You’re welcome, kid.” And then to deflect the gratitude of the rest of the children who were moving in his direction, he asked, “So where’s Molly?”

“She’s right here, Uncle Adam.” He heard Luke’s middle daughter Daisy’s voice from somewhere behind the crowd in the kitchen. He walked toward it and found her seated on the floor, the dog’s head in her lap. Daisy had always had a way with animals.

As much as it was possible for a basset to look anything but deeply saddened by life, the dog had an expression of bliss on her face as Daisy stroked her ears.

Molly was lying on a blanket. A blanket Adam recognized from his childhood. A blanket he was very fond of.

“That’s my blanket,” he couldn’t help saying, and turned accusingly to his mother.

She flapped the spatula at him and said, “You haven’t used that in years. So I’ve given it to Molly. She needs it more than you.”

“I might have wanted to use it,” he muttered. It was the principle of the thing. He mightn’t have used the blanket for more than twenty years, but it was a well-worn and much-loved childhood companion, and for some stupid reason he felt a sense of possessiveness about it. It sure as hell didn’t deserve to be used as a dog blanket.

“It’s Molly’s now,” Daisy piped up.

His oldest brother, Luke, who ran the family ranch, pressed him down into one of the vacated chairs at the table that occupied the huge country-style kitchen. The table easily sat ten, twelve at a pinch, and today people were rotating chairs as they finished breakfast and made way for the next shift.

He took his seat—beside Carly—and studied the occupants of the kitchen. Although heavily pregnant, Luke’s wife, Megan, was helping his mom prepare and serve. Luke’s oldest daughter, Sasha, was talking to Will’s stepson, Nick, while Celeste, Luke’s youngest, was chatting animatedly with the little girl who’d thanked him before. The two boys who belonged to Carly were bolting down second helpings of oatmeal like they hadn’t been fed in a week. Maybe they hadn’t, Adam decided. Their apartment wasn’t exactly in the town’s high-rent district.

And where was their father? he wanted to ask, not for the first time. Shouldn’t he be taking care of his family?

“Where’s your husband?” Adam blurted, before he could stop himself.

Silence descended on the kitchen and Adam wished the floor would open up.

She looked back at him with a frankness that was daunting and said, “He’s dead.”

CARLY SPENCER TOOK GRIM satisfaction in watching Adam O’Malley’s discomfort as he swallowed her answer and half hoped he’d choke on it. She’d already told Adam’s family that her husband, Michael, was a firefighter who’d perished in a warehouse fire in San Diego. She’d been seven months pregnant with Charlie at the time.

And now she felt bad about her bald statement. She, of all people, having been married to a firefighter, should’ve been more circumspect. But something perverse had made her answer his question as rudely as it had been asked.

What was it with this guy? He had the nicest, most welcoming family, but he was so emotionally distant, it was almost scary.

He’d done the bravest thing yesterday, not only rescuing her son Charlie but defying his battalion chief’s orders and saving Molly. Yet when she’d tried to thank him, he’d been so offhand it bordered on arrogant.

She’d wanted to call him on his behavior, but there was something in Adam O’Malley’s dark brown eyes that spoke of a hurt far greater than Carly suspected he ever revealed to others. So instead of challenging him further, she asked, “Would you like some bacon?” and passed the plate to him without waiting for his answer.

His mother came up behind him and scooped scrambled eggs onto his plate, kissing the top of his head as she did.

Carly didn’t miss the deep blush beneath his tan. That was interesting, the relationship between him and his mom. She got the feeling Sarah irritated him at times. Like now. She was bent over him from behind, hugging him.

“Mom. Please?” he murmured.

“I’m just so happy to have you home. And alive,” his mom said, and kissed the top of his head again before releasing him. The guy was clearly embarrassed by his mother’s display of affection. Sarah, however, seemed to revel in exasperating—if that was the right word—her youngest son, as if she was deliberately trying to provoke a reaction.

She returned with the coffeepot and poured Adam a cup, then went to put cream in it. He took the jug from her hand and murmured, “I can do it myself, Mom.”

“Of course you can, darling,” she said, totally unfazed, “but you’re a hero, and I intend to make you feel like one.”

Carly noticed that her own sons, sitting across the table from them, were transfixed by the exchange. To diffuse their interest, she said, “I don’t believe you’ve been properly introduced to my children. The one who caused you so much trouble yesterday is Alex and the one beside him who’s eating as if he hasn’t been fed in a week is Jake. My daughter is Madeleine. And this little guy,” she said, indicating her youngest, sitting on her lap, “is Charlie.”

Charlie, far from being grateful to his savior, chose that moment to flick a spoonful of oatmeal at Adam. Then he laughed.

TO HIS CREDIT, ADAM didn’t leap from his seat or demand an apology. Instead, he wiped the oatmeal from his cheek with his finger, then wiped his finger on his napkin. “It’s gratifying to be reminded of what the public thinks of we who serve them,” he said, and dug into his eggs.

Will patted him gently on the back. “That’s the spirit, buddy. Nothing like some creative criticism to bring you back to earth. Can’t have you walking around the ranch with a head bigger than a black Angus bull.”

Luke laughed from where he stood beside the kitchen range and raised his coffee mug in agreement.

Carly liked the oldest of the O’Malley brothers. Hey, she liked them all. She was trying to like Adam, too, but he wasn’t exactly making it easy for her. What’s his problem? she wondered.

He was eating in silence. Probably trying to ignore her. Well, that was fine because she didn’t want to make conversation with him, either.

She sipped her coffee, savoring the richness of the blend—a far cry from the budget brand she usually drank. Various conversations flowed around the kitchen and she caught snippets of them and smiled. Maddy and Celeste seemed to have hit it off. They were both in first grade but in different classes and hadn’t met each other before. Carly liked Celeste. She was an angelic-looking child with a sweet temperament and outgoing personality. Maddy was more withdrawn, but Celeste seemed to have struck a chord with her as they shared a love of drawing. The pair were presently giggling over pictures they’d drawn of Adam.

Carly wanted to see how he’d react to them and asked, “What have you got there, Maddy?”

Her daughter held up the picture. She’d given Adam curly, dark brown hair and a smiley face. Carly glanced at Adam. His hair was indeed dark brown, but cut so short, it was hard to determine if there was any curl in it.

Then Celeste held up her picture. She’d given Adam even curlier and longer hair. The child apparently knew her uncle well enough to have done that. However, instead of a smiley face, Adam’s expression was angry.

“Why did you draw your uncle looking so annoyed?” she asked Celeste.

“He’s not. He’s thinking,” the child corrected her. “He frowns when he thinks. Like he is now.” Celeste indicated her uncle with a flick of her head, bit into a bagel her father had smeared with cream cheese and honey and went back to her drawing.

An odd combination, Carly thought as Celeste wolfed it down. She turned to Adam. Sure enough, he was frowning. But he was miles away and not part of the conversation, nor had he seemed to notice the girls’ drawings of him.

“A penny for them,” she ventured, wanting to make friends with the man who’d saved her son’s life.

“What?” he said, coming out of his reverie.

“You were deep in thought,” she said. “If your back is bothering you, I’d be happy to give you a massage. It’s the least I can do.”

He put down his coffee cup and looked at her. “Thank you, but no.” He stood. “I have to be going. There’ll be a disciplinary meeting because I ignored my chief’s orders,” he said to the room’s occupants.

“And saved Molly,” Carly finished for him, knowing he’d never say the words himself. “I hope you don’t get into too much trouble. If there’s anything I can say to whoever you have to answer to, I will. I’ll testify that Alex would have run into that building to get her if you hadn’t.”

“I doubt a kid would be any match for a firefighter,” he said, his voice sardonic, then abruptly left the kitchen.

The rest of the adults had taken their seats at the table and were looking at her.

“I … I’m sorry, I don’t know what I said to make him leave like that.”

Sarah leaned over and touched her hand. “Don’t pay any attention to him, dear.”

She didn’t go on to excuse his behavior or explain it, so Carly busied herself with clearing the table. “I wanted to thank you again … for welcoming my children and me into your home.” Carly could feel her voice breaking, but she continued, hoping to find the strength she needed.

She could do it. She’d survived her husband, Michael’s, accidental death. She’d survived this past year and a half without her parents’ support or knowledge of how bad things were for her financially.

Her dad had suffered a stroke early last year and Carly had no intention of burdening him or her mother with her latest woes. They had enough to deal with.

She could survive the aftermath of this fire and start fresh. Just like she had before.

She’d used Michael’s insurance money to pay off their house in San Diego. And to pay off his credit card debts, which had been considerable. His fascination with the latest toys—from snowmobiles to Jet Skis, Windsurfers to water skis—had been a bone of contention in their marriage. Carly hadn’t realized how tangled their finances were until she opened the bills addressed to Michael after his death.

Once she’d paid off the mortgage, she’d felt more secure, knowing that no matter what, her children would always have a roof over their heads. But less than a year after doing that, Carly had wanted to get out of San Diego. Not so much to escape the memories but to escape the unwanted attentions of Michael’s best friend and fellow firefighter, Jerry Ryan.

Jerry had been a wonderful support after Michael’s death, but his behavior had become too familiar, bordering on obsessive, and Carly had felt trapped. She’d decided to move away from San Diego, the memories—and Jerry.

She’d rented out her home, effective January 1, intending to live off the rent and her work as a massage therapist.

Neither her parents nor Jerry were happy with her decision to move out of the state, but Carly remained resolute.

Offered a job at a new spa hotel opening in Denver, she’d accepted. She and the children had spent Christmas with her parents, then moved to the Mile High City a week before the hotel was slated to open in the new year. She’d enrolled her children in school and paid the security deposit to rent an apartment near work. But the day before opening, the hotel was firebombed. Fortunately, nobody had died, and both police and press speculated that organized crime had been responsible.

To Carly’s immense gratitude, her new landlord had been compassionate about her situation and come up with a solution. He owned an apartment building in the mountain town of Spruce Lake. In the summer it would be demolished and a new complex built in its place, but in the meantime, he had a vacancy available. If she could find herself a job in Spruce Lake, the apartment was hers. He assured her he could easily fill the vacancy in the Denver apartment she’d be leaving.

Carly had jumped at the opportunity, knowing that resort towns were often in need of massage therapists. She had her own massage table and could supplement her income by offering massages to people in the privacy of their homes.

Nearly two months had passed since that fateful day in Denver. Carly hadn’t told her parents about the firebombing and her move to Spruce Lake; she hadn’t wanted to worry them. Instead, she’d been upbeat in her emails and Skype calls.

And there was another reason she hadn’t wanted to come clean about her move. She knew Jerry kept in touch with her folks. She didn’t want him to learn where she was.

Her children had settled into Spruce Lake Elementary and were loving it. Carly liked the warmth of the community and was gradually building a client base of locals and tourists. Charlie went to daycare a couple of days a week while Carly worked. She also did a few shifts at the local spa. Finding a reliable after-school sitter for the children on the days she had to work hadn’t been too difficult—until yesterday.

If she could have replayed yesterday, she’d never have left her children with a sitter she didn’t know. And if Sarah O’Malley hadn’t come to their rescue, Carly had no idea what she could’ve done. The O’Malleys were the kindest, most giving people she’d ever met.

But the raw anger, the fear and desperation she’d experienced when she realized Charlie was missing still ate at her.

“You’ve been so … generous … and we don’t …” she started to say, but then the floodgates opened. The tears she’d held so tightly in check after the fire, the emotions she’d suppressed all through the endless night, flowed.

Conscious that she was making a complete fool of herself, Carly blubbered an apology. But warm arms enveloped her and Carly turned to cry on the offered shoulder, finding it was Mac who’d silently reentered the kitchen.

“There, there,” she heard Sarah say. “Let it all out, dear. You’ve been holding it in, being brave for too long.”

Sarah was right; she had been holding it in, putting on a brave face for her kids, and now that they’d left the room, she’d fallen apart.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Mac, lifting her head and seeing the huge damp patch on his shirt. A wad of tissues got shoved into her hand and she tried to staunch her running nose and wipe at her eyes. Mac rubbed her back in soothing circles and said, “You lean on me all you want, Carly.”

Carly sobbed at the warmth and compassion in his voice and wished her father could be there for her.

When she’d composed herself a little, she looked up into Mac’s eyes and in a vulnerable moment admitted she wished her father was there. And then she wished she could take back her words, because they were too revealing. It was too much to admit to these people who until last night were strangers.

Megan hugged Mac as well, and said, “I wish I’d had a dad like Mac. I’m so glad I married Luke.”

Grateful for Megan’s lifeline, Carly wondered what Megan’s family history had been for her to make a remark like that.

“Let’s not overdo it!” When Mac finally managed to struggle out of their embrace, he was blushing. Molly got up from her blanket and came over to nudge his leg, whimpering as if in agreement. “Women!” he muttered good-naturedly, grabbed his hat and took off out the back door.

Sarah chuckled and said, “I think the estrogen overload was getting to him.”

Megan smiled, dabbing at her eyes. “He needs to get used to it. He has a wife, three daughters-in-law and five granddaughters.”

That broke the remaining tension in the room and the rest of the occupants laughed.

“Women!” This came from Luke and Megan’s son, Cody, whom Carly had learned was the result of a holiday romance Luke and Megan had had sixteen years earlier. They’d only recently been reunited and still acted like newlyweds. Sasha, Daisy and Celeste were by Luke’s ex-wife—the mention of whom had caused Sarah’s lips to purse and Luke to change the subject.

Carly hadn’t quite got all the family relationships sorted out, but they were gradually falling into place.

Like his grandfather, Cody grabbed his hat and headed out the back door.

“I agree with them,” Luke said. “There are way too many women around here.” He kissed his wife and removed his hat from the peg near the back door, then followed his father and son out to start work.

“I’d better check in with the office,” Matt said, standing.

Jack glanced at his watch. “And I have an appointment with Frank Farquar. Seems the mayor wants me to build a stronger porch swing for Louella.”

“Louella?” Carly asked.

“The mayor’s pet pig,” Will explained. “She was hanging around with me at the fire. I’ll introduce you sometime.”

The brothers said their goodbyes, leaving Carly and Sarah alone in the kitchen. Carly stood, ready to clean up, but Sarah indicated she should sit.

She took a seat opposite Carly, poured more coffee and said, “Now, tell me, dear, how I can help?”

“You’ve done so much for us already. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.” Sarah had produced clothes and pajamas for her children last night, since they’d had only the clothes they were standing in. Carly appreciated how Sarah did everything without fuss, saving her children from any further distress. If it had been her own mother in similar circumstances, it would’ve felt as if Carly was swept up in a tornado. Carly’s mom thrived on drama. It was one of the reasons she hadn’t turned to them after Michael’s death. And now that her dad was ill, there was no way Carly would even think of adding to his problems.

“Dear, I know you lost everything in that fire. I’m pretty sure the only possession you have left is your vehicle, and that got so much water damage parked where it was, it’ll take a while to get fixed.”

Carly nodded. She needed her minivan for work. Not that she had a job anymore since her mobile massage table was destroyed in the fire. She wished she’d had it in her van, but she’d left it upstairs because Mrs. Polinski had booked a massage after Carly’s appointments at the spa. And now she’d inherited the Polinskis’ dog.

Yesterday as they were loaded into the ambulance, Mrs. Polinski had asked Carly to look after Molly while they were in the hospital, but as of this morning, Molly was homeless. When Carly had called the hospital to find out how they were doing, she’d been put through to Mrs. Polinski, who’d been very upset that they’d be moving back east with their son and daughter-in-law. Apparently, their son’s wife didn’t want Molly coming with them. The old lady was understandably upset about Molly, and Carly promised to see what she could do. Unfortunately, Mrs. Polinski had misunderstood and thought Carly was adopting the dog.

So now it looked as if Molly belonged to her. Could her life get any more complicated? Oh, yeah, it could. Molly was due to be spayed the week after next and she’d just bet that hadn’t been prepaid!

Although Carly had no possessions left in Spruce Lake, at least she had her precious children. And that was all that mattered. From what she’d been able to glean talking to the babysitter afterward, there’d been a tremendous explosion that shook the building, followed shortly after by one of the other residents screaming, “Fire!” Then all hell had broken loose.

Tiffany had grabbed the three oldest children and fled down the stairs, just as Carly had pulled up outside the building. When Carly had asked her where Charlie was, she admitted she’d forgotten all about him. Carly forced the memory of that horrible moment out of her mind and told herself, Charlie is fine. Your children are all fine. You will get through this.

“I have nothing left,” Carly said. “I hadn’t gotten around to taking out insurance on our possessions.” Meager as they were, she added silently.

“I feel so overwhelmed! I don’t know how I’m going to get my business going again.” She fought the tears that threatened. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t get her anywhere. She needed to find some money to buy a new massage table and start earning again. She’d resented Michael for spending their savings on frivolous toys she’d had to sell for a tenth of their value when he’d died. And now she’d been just as reckless by not insuring their possessions.

“So you don’t have any savings?” Sarah asked.

Carly took a deep breath. She’d already told Sarah about her dad’s stroke and how she didn’t want to burden her parents.

“There’ve been too many bills to pay lately, what with moving costs, getting established in the apartment, paying for utilities—it all costs money.”

Afraid the older woman would see her as a loser for not having saved anything, she quickly added, “But I have a home in San Diego. It’s rented out. When my husband died I used the insurance money to pay off the mortgage and our credit card debts. Then …” Carly didn’t want to go into why she’d decided to leave San Diego, didn’t want to talk about Jerry Ryan getting too possessive of her. She’d tried letting him down nicely, but it had become very uncomfortable. In the end she’d used the excuse that she needed to get out of San Diego, to start her life anew.

“Unfortunately, the global financial crisis meant I couldn’t sell the house for anything near what we paid for it. So I decided to rent it out and relocate. The rent helps with my expenses for now, but there’s not much left over once all the bills are paid. In a few years, when the real estate market’s recovered, I’ll sell it and buy something here—if I can afford to.”

Sarah’s smile lit up the room. “So you like Spruce Lake? In spite of the fire?”

“I love it. My children are happy at school, even though we’ve been here such a short time. And Spruce Lake is delightful. It has everything I could ask for.”

“I’m so glad you like our little town. I fell in love with it, too, on my first visit with Mac.”

“I’d like to get established in my own business here, build up a good client base, but without a massage table, I’m going to have to cancel the appointments I had booked for next week.” Carly brushed her hair back and said, “Well, I guess I’d better get cleaned up and make an appointment with the bank manager. Plead with him to lend me enough to buy a new one so I can get started again.”

“That’s the spirit!” Sarah said, lifting Carly’s own spirits immensely. “I like the way you think, Carly.”

“I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve done so much for me. You’re a godsend,” Carly said. “In fact, last night I woke up and wondered if I was dreaming. Not about the fire, but about how kind you were. How safe you made me feel.”

Sarah rewarded her with another smile. “You’re welcome, dear. Now, you go see if you can get an appointment today. I’ll clean up here.”

“Oh, no, you don’t! Look at this place! It’s a disaster.”

Sarah glanced around. “True,” she agreed. “But I like it that way. Makes me feel needed. You run along.” She made shooing motions. “I’ll have the girls help me clean up. You don’t mind if I rope Maddy in, do you? That’s how they earn their allowance.”

“What a good idea. I’d get the boys to help, too, but they seem to have taken off to watch Luke with the horses.” She could see her boys through the kitchen window, sitting on the corral fence as Luke worked with a horse.

“They’ll get their turn,” Sarah assured her. She took Charlie from Carly’s arms and sat him in a high chair, then gave him a piece of toast. “He’ll be fine here with me. And if you have to go into town this morning, I’ll watch the children.”

Carly was about to say “thank you” yet again when Sarah held up her hand. “I know. I know,” she said. “Carly, it’s my pleasure. I love having this house full of people. Now, off you go.”

CARLY WENT INTO THE living room, looked up her bank’s number and called using the house phone. She’d been in such a panic that she’d left her cell phone in her minivan when she’d leaped out. It was too water damaged to ever work again.

Five minutes later, Carly’s hopes had been completely dashed. After she explained the situation to her bank manager, he’d refused her a loan. Since she hadn’t applied for a credit card, not wanting to be hit with high interest rates if she was late with payments and with the memory of the debt Michael had built up so easily, Carly only had a debit card. But there was barely enough in her account to buy a pair of warm winter boots for herself to replace those she’d lost in the fire. She wore clean white tennis shoes to her spa appointments, wanting to look professional and be comfortable. But tennis shoes were useless for walking in snow and ice, and since it was winter, she’d be doing a lot of that.

Carly sat on the sofa, bit her lip and forced herself not to cry. How many more things could go wrong with her life? As if sensing her melancholy, Molly waddled into the room and curled up on Carly’s feet. Carly reached down to rub the dog’s ears. “Poor girl, you’re missing your owners, aren’t you?” she asked, then jumped as a wad of money was thrust under her nose.

She stared at it, bewildered.

“Take it,” Adam said gruffly.

“I … I can’t do that.”

“Yeah. You can. I heard your half of the conversation. You need it more than I do.”

Carly shook her head and glanced up at Adam. “Thank you, but no. I’ll find some way to get my business up and running again without accepting charity.”

“Then give me a massage and I’ll pay for it.”

“I don’t have a table,” she pointed out.

He shrugged and proffered the money again. “So go buy a table with this and then pay me back with a massage.”

Carly couldn’t help smiling at his logic. “You’re talking a lot of massages!”

“I’ve got a feeling I’ll need them after I’ve met with my supervisors today.”

Remembering the conversation before Adam had come downstairs this morning—his family was concerned about disciplinary action for disobeying his battalion chief’s orders—she said, “I … I hope it goes well for you, Adam. What you did was nothing short of heroic.” Her eyes filled with tears and she dashed them away. “I’m sorry I’m being so emotional. I’m not usually this weepy, but when I think of what might’ve happened to Charlie if you hadn’t found him. And Molly, she’s such a sweet dog … I … can’t … help … it.”

“Yeah. Well,” he said, scratched Molly’s head and left the room.

His sudden departure shocked Carly so much that she stopped crying. Must get more control of emotions! she told herself, and looked up. Adam had left the wad of notes on the coffee table.

She took them to the kitchen.

Sarah heard her entering, turned around and smiled. “How’d it go?” she asked.

“I, ah,” Carly faltered, and held out the notes to Sarah.

“Goodness! That was quick,” the older woman quipped. “Did he send you that through the phone line?” she asked with a grin.

“Quite the contrary. My ex–bank manager doesn’t want anything to do with me. Adam gave me this, but I can’t accept it.”

Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “And you told him so?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“He said I can work off the debt with massages.”

“Who said that?” Megan asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Carly’s bank manager won’t let her have a loan to get her business up and running again, so Adam’s given her an advance payment for services to be rendered. That way she can buy a massage table,” Sarah explained. She rubbed her shoulders. “Hmm. I think I need to prepurchase a ten-pack of massages. Do you do discounts for friends?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“You know perfectly well I wouldn’t consider charging you,” Carly said, and wagged her finger at Sarah.

“Then you can charge me,” Megan said. “I’ve heard prenatal massages are wonderful for expectant moms.”

“They are,” Carly agreed. “But I couldn’t charge you, either! You’ve already given me half your wardrobe,” she said, referring to Megan’s generous offer of clothes.

“I won’t be able to fit into them for a while yet, so you’re welcome.” Megan brushed off her concerns. “Now, when can I book my first massage?”

“As soon as I can get a table,” Carly said, shaking the money at her.

“Can you buy one locally?” Sarah asked. “If not, we could make a run down to Denver.” She glanced at Megan. “After all, I have a nursery to furnish for my next grandchild, and although I like to buy locally, there are a few things I can’t get up here.”

“True!” Megan said, her face lighting up. “I feel a shopping trip coming on!”

Carly wished she could join in with their enthusiasm, but she simply didn’t have the funds. She hadn’t counted the money Adam had given her, but there couldn’t be enough for a massage table, could there?

“You look worried,” Sarah said. “If you can’t buy a table around here, I really did mean we could take a trip to Denver.”

Carly forced a smile into her voice and said, “Let me make a few calls, and if I can’t buy one here today, I’ll take you up on that.”

Megan pulled out her cell and said, “You know, I think the other women in my prenatal class would love to sign up for some treatments with you.”

“So would the ladies in my quilting group,” Sarah chimed in. She, too, pulled out her cell. “Let’s all meet back here in half an hour and see what we’ve come up with.”

Chapter Three

Exactly thirty minutes later, they met back in the living room. Sarah produced a list of at least a dozen names. “And more to come,” she promised. Megan had an equally long list.

“Then that settles it,” Carly said. “The trip to Denver is on, if you’re still offering, because I can buy a massage table direct from the wholesaler.”

Sarah rubbed her hands together. “I’ll make sandwiches for the men’s lunch. If you like, Carly, we can leave the boys here under Luke’s watchful eye. I checked on them before, and he and one of the hands are teaching them to ride. I don’t think you’ll be able to drag them away to go shopping.”

When Carly nodded, Sarah went on. “Now, we’ll take Charlie and the two little girls. Daisy will want to stay here with her father. Sasha may or may not want to come with us.”

“Come where?” Sasha asked as she breezed into the room.

“Shopping in Denver,” her grandmother replied.

The magic word effectively stopped the teen in her tracks. “I’ll be ready in five,” she said, and ran back upstairs to her room.

“I’ll let the guys know they’re fending for themselves until we get back,” Megan said as she pulled on a warm jacket and hurried out the back door.

“And I’ll help make sandwiches,” Carly said, her earlier enthusiasm returning.

CARLY DIDN’T THINK IT was possible to go from feeling so completely desolate and alone to being on such a high in less than twenty-four hours.

In the past day, she’d gone from having nothing to having a new start in life, two new and already very dear friends and a measure of happiness that had been missing even before the dreadful fire that had claimed her husband’s life.

Adam’s money had purchased a better and sturdier massage table than she’d had before. There was even a little left over so she’d treated Megan and Sarah to coffee at a bookstore and the children to thick shakes.

They’d returned to Two Elk Ranch in high spirits, loaded down with maternity clothes for Megan, items for the nursery and new clothes for the girls and for Carly’s two boys.

Sasha dashed upstairs to change into one of her new outfits, accompanied by Maddy and Celeste. Sarah disappeared into her wing of the house to find Mac, and Megan went in search of Luke to have him unpack the car, leaving Carly alone in the living room.

Only she wasn’t alone for long, because Adam stalked through the room muttering something about screaming girls.

He stopped short when he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Was your trip a success?” he asked shortly, as if he didn’t care one way or the other.

Carly decided not to let it bother her. “Yes, it was. Thanks to you. And how did your … meeting go today?”

Carly didn’t miss the grimace before he got his emotions under control. “Not so good. I have to appear before a disciplinary board on Monday.”

“I’m sorry. You deserve better treatment than that,” Carly said, meaning it.

He shrugged. “Goes with the territory. I was about to get myself a beer to drown my sorrows. Can I get anything for you … or the kid?” he asked, indicating Charlie, nestled on her hip.

“His name is Charlie,” she said, determined not to ignore Adam’s “pretending he didn’t care about anything” act.

“Charlie, then,” he said, and without waiting for her answer, went into the kitchen.

Carly followed him and found him with his head buried in the fridge. “Want a beer?” he asked from the depths of it.

“A soda would be absolutely marvelous. Thank you,” she said flippantly, then chided herself for her sarcasm. The man might be a Neanderthal, but he’d saved her son’s life. She needed to overlook his personality defects and be kind and understanding.

“Kind and understanding, Carly,” she muttered under her breath.

“You say something?” he asked, holding up several varieties of soda.

She selected one and opened it. “Nothing important,” she said, noticing how he winced as he took a seat at the table. “Why don’t we set up my new table and get started on those therapeutic massages I owe you?” she suggested.

He glanced up at her, eyes narrowed. “Are you really a qualified massage therapist?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, at the end of her patience.

He shrugged again, annoying her even more. The guy did a lot of shrugging and she suspected it was his way of pretending nothing mattered.

Carly took a seat across from him and slammed her soda down on the table. She experienced a small sense of satisfaction when he jumped. “I asked you a question,” she said. “I don’t accept shrugging as an answer and I’m sure your mother never did, either.”

His dark eyes bored into hers but she refused to back down. He didn’t like being challenged? Well, neither did she!

“When Will said you were a massage therapist, I envisioned you working in one of those massage parlors.”

Carly could feel her blood beginning to boil. She’d suspected that was what he’d been hinting at, but something perverse made her want to hear him admit it.

“Do I look as though I work in a massage parlor?” she demanded.

“Wouldn’t know. Never been in one.”

Carly released a breath. “That makes two of us. For your information, I went to the American Institute of Massage Therapy and am qualified to give both therapeutic and sports massages. And I’ll accept your abject apology for being such a jerk … on one condition.”

“And that is?”

“That you help me unpack my new massage table from the car and specify where you’d like me to give you your first treatment.”

A FEW INTERESTING IMAGES of places Adam would like Carly to give him a massage came to mind. Most of them were X-rated, so he quashed that thought, resisting the urge to shrug—Carly was right; he did it too often. He got up and said, “Lead the way.”

He watched as she stood and hoisted the kid onto her hip. “Why do you always carry him around?” he asked. “Can’t he walk?” He regretted the belligerence of his tone the moment the words were out of his mouth. As he half expected, Carly managed to floor him with her answer.

“As a matter of fact, he can. However, since I nearly lost him in the fire yesterday, I’m reluctant to let him out of my grasp. If you don’t mind me massaging you one-handed, that would be great, because I don’t want to put him down. For anything.”

“Fair enough,” Adam said, knowing she was baiting him. “Maybe we’d better postpone that massage until he’s asleep. In a bed. Or does he sleep on your hip, too?”

He could see her muttering something under her breath, but couldn’t quite hear it.

“Funny,” she finally said, and threw him an exaggerated grin, which made Adam feel like a complete heel for prodding her.

Carly opened the fridge and got out some cheese slices and bread. She prepared a sandwich with one hand, then balanced the kid on the countertop as she cut the sandwich in two. She gave one half to the child, and chose a banana from the fruit bowl. Lifting Charlie onto her hip again, she said, “Let’s go.”

Adam found himself obediently following her through the living room and out the front door toward the car. Dusk had descended while they were inside bickering—no, that wasn’t the right word. Was there such a word as repartee-ing? He didn’t know, but it sounded … friendlier.

She opened the rear door of his mom’s SUV and was about to reach inside.

“Let me get that,” he said, moving around Carly.

He enjoyed brushing against her, and saw her swallow before she stepped aside to allow him access to the truck. He took out a box that looked much too small to be a massage table. “This is it?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said in a reasonable voice. “It’s a portable massage table, remember?” She turned toward the stables. “I also bought some lattes and shakes for the shopping party with the change. I hope you don’t mind.”

Adam could hear the mild sarcasm in her tone and ignored it. “Where are we going?” he asked.

She stopped in her tracks and he nearly barreled into her. “To the stables. I would’ve thought that was obvious.”

“Why not the house?”

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