“Firefighting is special. You make a real difference in the world.”

Genuine admiration tinged Aubrey’s voice, and his chest swelled.

“Like being a nurse?

“Firefighting is nothing like being a nurse. You put your life on the line for others. That takes courage and daring.” She tilted her head and stared him square in the face. “I have to say, Gage, you really impress me. Not that I wasn’t—”

She didn’t have a chance to finish, because he hauled her into his arms, lifted her onto her toes and brought her mouth to within a tiny fraction of his.

Her green eyes went wide. “If you’re thinking of kissing me, think again.”

“Oh, I’m going to kiss you, all right.”

Dear Reader,

Some years ago when my family was visiting Young, Arizona, I had the opportunity to meet the Payson Hotshots. The crew, fresh from the front line of the fire, strode into the Antler Café where we were having dinner, turning every head in the place. In speaking to them, we learned the citizens of Young were helping out by hosting the wilderness firefighters—feeding them and putting them up for the night at the local community center.

That weekend while I stood on our cabin porch watching the fire blaze in the nearby mountains, I wondered about the Hotshots and the amazing individuals who chose to work in such a dangerous profession. I also wondered about the people who loved them and made up their families.

From that experience, Gage and Aubrey’s story was born. His Only Wife is my first Harlequin American Romance, a line that I’m thrilled to be writing for. I hope you enjoy reading about Gage and Aubrey as much as I enjoyed writing about them.

Warmest wishes,

Cathy McDavid

P.S. I love hearing from readers. Visit my Web site at www.cathymcdavid.com to drop me a line.

His Only Wife

Cathy McDavid

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

For the past eleven years Cathy McDavid has been juggling a family, a job, and writing and doing pretty well at it except for the cooking and housecleaning part. Mother of boy and girl teenage twins, she manages the near impossible by working every day with her husband of twenty years at their commercial construction company. They survive by not bringing work home and not bringing home to the office. A mutual love of all things Western also helps. Horses and ranch animals have been a part of Cathy’s life since she moved to Arizona as a child and asked her mother for riding lessons. She can hardly remember a time when she couldn’t walk outside and pet a soft, velvety nose (or beak, or snout) whenever the mood struck.

This book is dedicated to the courageous men and women who serve as wilderness firefighters in the western United States and all over the world. It has been a joy writing about you and an honor to make your acquaintance.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

Tourists in motor homes, cowboys in pickup trucks, and teenagers in hot rods with the radios blasting.

Not much had changed about the Pineville service station over the last decade from what Aubrey Stuart could see, except maybe the price of gas.

And her.

She guided her mini SUV toward the far island and parked beside a pump. Pushing the door open with one hand, she grabbed her tiny purse off the front passenger seat and stepped outside. In the blink of an eye, she exchanged air-conditioned comfort for the heat of Arizona high country in late June.

While waiting for her credit card purchase to be authorized, she removed the cap from her gas tank and eyed the constant stream of vehicles coming and going. Everything about this place was familiar to Aubrey. During the four-hour drive from Tucson, she’d steeled herself against the pain that the sight of Pineville always brought on during those few short visits she’d made through the years. But to her vast relief, there wasn’t any. Only a twinge of melancholy.

Could it be she was really and truly over Gage Raintree?

A high-pitched electronic beep drew her attention to the gas pump and the message scrolling across the panel in vivid green letters.

“Cash only, see clerk inside,” Aubrey read out loud and sighed. With another hour’s drive still ahead of her, she had wanted this to be a quick in-and-out stop.

Better to be safe than sorry, she decided. Thirty-foot drop-offs in some places made the winding dirt road to her grandmother’s home in Blue Ridge treacherous. Running out of gas halfway there would be at best an inconvenience, at worse a disaster.

Slamming the door of her SUV shut, she headed toward the minimart, extracting a twenty-dollar bill from her purse as she went. Ten years earlier, on the day she left Blue Ridge, she’d walked through this same door. In some ways, it felt like a lifetime ago. In other ways, only yesterday.

Back then, she’d been all innocence, painfully shy, and skinny as a broomstick. The brainy older daughter of renowned heart surgeon Alexander Stuart. Her younger sister, Annie, used to call her a nerd, and rightfully so. Aubrey hadn’t just fit the description, she’d defined it. With the exception of Gage Raintree, the male population at large hardly noticed she existed.

“Enough already,” she grumbled, snapping out of her reverie. An hour away from Blue Ridge and already she had a bad case of Gage Raintree on the brain. What would it be like when she arrived at her grandmother’s?

Her movements purposeful, Aubrey strode into the minimart and went straight to stand in line behind several other people. The store was packed, taxing the sole clerk’s limited abilities. She felt sorry for the poor kid when the man ahead of her vehemently complained about the inconvenience.

Her turn finally came. “Twenty dollars on pump three.” She smiled pleasantly, handing the clerk her money. “And I need a receipt, please.”

He appeared grateful that she wasn’t going to bite his head off like everyone else. “Anything else, ma’am?”

“No, thank you.” She took the receipt and started toward the door. At the sound of a familiar voice, her knees locked.

“Aubrey?”

She stood immobile and willed her gaze not to fly around the store.

“Aubrey, is that you?”

What were the odds of him being here? In this convenience store, at the exact same moment as her? Well, this was the last gas station on the road out of town.

“Aubrey Stuart?” the voice called again.

She had to look. There was simply no avoiding it. And, well, he didn’t sound mad. That was a good sign, right? Mustering her courage, she turned slowly around and came face-to-face with her ex-husband.

“I thought you weren’t arriving until tomorrow,” he said.

“Hello, Gage.” Her voice quivered. It had a tendency to do that when she was nervous or uncomfortable or, like now, both. “How are you?”

“Good. How ‘bout yourself?” He moved ahead in line, closing the distance between them. “You look great.”

His lingering appraisal of her appearance caused Aubrey’s cheeks to heat. Never was she more aware of the fact that her younger, stick-figure self had filled out in all the right places.

“So do you,” she blurted. “Look great, that is.”

Of all things to gush forth from between her lips. Complete mental dysfunction was her only excuse. Gage did that to her. He always had.

But, sweet heaven, he did look great.

Tall to start with, he’d outgrown his once lanky form. There was no shortage of muscles bunching beneath his T-shirt. He wore his nearly black hair shorter than before. The wavy ends poked out from beneath his weathered cowboy hat to curl attractively at the base of his neck. His boots were scruffy, as always, and he needed a shave. Not that the dark stubble shadowing his jaw detracted from his good looks. Quite the contrary.

Rather than risk another embarrassing blunder, she forced her stiff legs to take a step toward the double glass doors at the front of the store. She’d known seeing him again would be a bit awkward, but she hadn’t expected it to be so…disconcerting. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Hold up.” He retrieved his change and plastic sack containing his purchases. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“No!” At his bemused expression, she checked herself. “That’s not necessary. You’re obviously in a hurry.”

“Actually, I’m not.”

The sexy half smile he turned on her was potent as ever. Hoping to minimize its effects, she grabbed for the door handle nearest her and yanked, almost tearing her hand off in the process. The door rattled, but didn’t open. Too late, she realized she’d pulled instead of pushed. Gage came up behind her, reached around and braced his hand on the glass panel near her head.

“Here. Let me get that for you.” The door swung open, and a hot breeze struck Aubrey in the face.

She glanced over her shoulder. Big mistake.

His face hovered a few inches above hers. If she shifted slightly, she could find herself nestled in the crook of his arm. It was a place she’d been often enough as a teenager and remembered well.

A warning bell the size of Liberty herself rang inside Aubrey’s head.

“Thanks.” She shoved through the door and flashed him a smile she hoped radiated confidence. “See you around.”

He followed, his long strides easily keeping pace with her. “Is this yours?” he asked when they reached her SUV.

“Mine and the bank’s,” she answered. Not wanting Gage to sense her discomfort, she made an effort to relax.

“Four-wheel drive. That’ll come in handy around here.” He gave the car the standard once-over typical of men, then hitched his chin at the neighboring island of gas pumps. “I’m still driving a pickup.”

The long-bed crew cab he indicated was considerably newer and nicer than the one he’d driven in high school. And from what she could see, loaded to the hilt with lumber and various other building materials. He must have come into Pineville to purchase supplies for his family’s cattle ranch. There was some sort of emblem on the driver-side door that she couldn’t make out from this distance.

“It’s big,” she said and returned to filling her SUV with gas.

“I heard you were staying with your grandmother for a while. That’s nice of you. A broken hip is no picnic, and I’m sure she appreciates your help.”

“Yes.” Small-town gossip, thought Aubrey. Nothing stayed secret for long. Everybody from the local sheriff to the clerk at the feed store had probably been informed of her arrival.

“Look, Aubrey,” Gage said. “I know you probably feel a little…weird after what happened. Is there any chance we can get together and talk?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She squeezed the gas nozzle until her fingers turned white. “I mean, what’s to talk about? It was ages ago, and we’ve both moved on.”

“But I don’t want you feeling like you have to run for cover every time you see my pickup truck coming down the road. Blue Ridge is a small town. You can’t walk across your front lawn without having to stop and chat with at least three people.”

“I’m not going to run for cover every time I see you,” she scoffed.

He gave her a skeptical look.

“Really.” She hated that he knew her so well. But then, how could he not? They’d spent fifteen straight summers together, the last one as Mr. and Mrs. Raintree.

A loud click sounded, signaling her gas tank was full. Grateful for small favors, Aubrey jammed the nozzle back into the side of the pump. “I have to go. Grandma’s expecting me.” She slid in behind the wheel.

“Drive carefully. There’s a lot of loose gravel on the roads.” He shut her door for her.

Aubrey wiggled her fingers in farewell, then started the SUV. Without meaning to, she sped out of the parking lot, succumbing to the urge to put as much distance between herself and Gage as possible.

Two miles outside of Pineville her heart rate finally dropped to double digits, and her breathing slowed. The worst was over, she told herself. She ran into Gage and had lived to tell about it. Next time wouldn’t be so hard. Right?

Aubrey fervently hoped so. If not, this could be the longest six weeks of her life.

SOMETHING MUST HAVE happened. An accident maybe? Aubrey hit the brakes and came to a stop behind a Hummer hauling a trailer loaded with ATVs. She flipped up the sun visor and, squinting, stared out the windshield. For as far up the highway as she could see, traffic was at a standstill. It was then she realized there were no cars coming from the opposite direction.

After several minutes, people started getting out of their vehicles and milling around. Resigned to wait, Aubrey lowered her window and shut off her engine.

She didn’t relish being stuck in a traffic jam, but at least she was safely away from Gage. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the headrest and allowed the memories to come. Pain and hurt accompanied the steady stream of images filling her mind, convincing Aubrey that, despite her earlier conviction, she was anything but over Gage.

He’d been her first for many things. Her first kiss. Her first real date. Her first love. Her first—and only—husband. Without warning, her eyes began to tear.

“You okay?”

Aubrey sat bolt upright at the intrusion. A middle-aged man stood next to her open window.

“Ah…yeah,” she mumbled, embarrassed at being caught on the verge of crying. “Just tired.”

“I’m going down the line, passing the word. There’s a wreck a mile or two up the road.”

“Is it serious?”

“A semi and four cars, they’re saying. Road’s completely blocked in both directions.”

The distant wail of a siren grew louder. As the ambulance passed, adrenaline flooded Aubrey’s system, one of the many side effects of working in a hospital E.R., she supposed. Though, for her, it had recently become worse.

“Hope you brought a good book to read.” The middle-aged man rapped her door and gave her a toothy smile before moving on. “We’re gonna be here a while.”

“Thanks,” she called after him, her breathing, thankfully, slowing.

No book, but she had brought along some medical periodicals on health care for the aged and how to live independently after a hip fracture. She took one from the seat beside her and thumbed through it. Hopefully, she’d find something beneficial to her grandmother and compelling enough to keep her mind off the traffic jam. And Gage.

“Aubrey.” He stood at her window.

Her hands involuntarily jerked, and the newsletter dropped onto her lap. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m about a dozen cars behind you. I walked up to check on you.”

A dozen cars? He must have pulled out of the gas station right behind her.

“I’m fine.” She collected the scattered newsletter pages.

“So we’re back to that?”

“What?”

He leaned down and rested his forearms on her open window. “One-or two-word sentences.”

Damn. He did know her well. “I guess.”

His arms were tanned, the dusting of soft brown hair on them denser than she remembered. She shouldn’t stare, but it was easier looking at his arms than his face.

“Is talking with me that tough?” he asked, readjusting his cowboy hat. “I remember when we’d stay up half the night talking. After we got married, we’d stay up half the night making l—”

“Details aren’t necessary. I remember.”

As did Gage, if his wide grin was any indication.

What was with him, anyway? They’d seen each other occasionally through the years, most recently at her grandfather’s funeral. Those encounters had always been on the tense side and notably brief. Had enough time finally gone by that they could relax in each other’s company and be themselves? It appeared so for Gage.

“Two whole sentences. That’s a start.” He chuckled and strode away.

But not to his truck. Instead, he cut behind her SUV and came up the passenger side. Before she could protest, he’d settled in beside her. Her glower had no dimming affects on the twinkle lighting his dark brown eyes.

“I don’t remember inviting you in.”

In response, he removed his cowboy hat and set it on the dash. “Forget making yourself comfortable, you won’t be staying long.”

“Another thirty minutes, I’d say. The sheriff’s office called in a special tow truck for the semi, and it hasn’t arrived yet.”

Siren wailing, the ambulance passed them going in the opposite direction toward Pineville. Momentarily distracted, Aubrey looked out her window. “I hope no one’s injured.”

“Two. Seriously, but not critically.”

“How do you know all this?” She shot him a quizzical glance.

“I made a call on my cell phone. I have a friend who works in the newsroom at the radio station in Pineville.”

“A friend?”

He turned toward her. “A good friend.” His expression hinted at more.

“I’m happy for you.” She crossed her arms over her middle and told herself it was indigestion and not jealousy gnawing at her stomach. For all she cared, he could have a thousand good friends.

“He and I went to fire academy together.”

Aubrey groaned inwardly. Shame on her for walking right into his trap.

She remembered a very brief conversation they’d had at her grandfather’s funeral when Gage mentioned joining the Blue Ridge Volunteer Fire Department. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he’d stuck with it, but she refrained, not certain she wanted to learn everything about him yet.

“You still a nurse in the emergency room at Tucson General?” He moved his seat back to accommodate his six-foot-plus frame.

Aubrey rolled her eyes and shook her head. The man had a lot of nerve. “Not at the moment.”

“You quit your job?”

“I took a leave of absence.”

“Wow.” He stopped fiddling with the seat position and faced her. “I thought you loved nursing.”

“I do.” Aubrey heard her voice crack and swallowed before continuing. “Just not the E.R. lately.”

She thought of Jesse and Maureen—saw them as she had at their thirtieth wedding anniversary, a hundred family members and friends in attendance to join them in celebrating. Dear friends of the Stuarts, Aubrey had known “Uncle” Jesse and “Aunt” Maureen practically her entire life. She remembered being deeply touched at the way they gazed sweetly into each other’s faces. How wonderful it must be, she’d thought, to still be in love after so many years.

But then another, different image of Jesse’s and Maureen’s faces came to her. Broken and battered and covered in blood. Less than a week after the anniversary celebration, the couple had been brought into the E.R. while Aubrey was on duty, victims of an automobile accident. Upon glimpsing them, Aubrey had froze.

All of the E.R.’s staff vast skill and expertise proved in-adequate. They couldn’t save her parents’ friends. Within the hour, Uncle Jesse and Aunt Maureen were both dead.

Aubrey lost more than two patients and more than two family friends that sad and terrible day. She lost a part of herself. And though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, she was terribly afraid she might never find it again.

“Hey, you okay?” Gage reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a gesture so familiar, Aubrey’s heart ached. He let his fingers linger. “You seemed lost for a second there.”

He couldn’t be any closer to the truth.

Something stirred inside her at the intimate contact, and it wasn’t revulsion. Her eyes involuntarily sought his. Emotions, some old, some new, filled her. Without intending to, she let out a soft, “Oh.”

A horn beeped, then another. The moment, or whatever it was, abruptly ended.

Gage grabbed his hat off the dash and swung around. “Traffic’s moving. I’d better get back to my truck.”

“I think that’s a wise idea.” Aubrey started the SUV with shaky fingers. She was never so glad to be surrounded by rude and impatient drivers.

“How about you and me pick this up later where we left off?” Without waiting for her answer, he stepped outside.

Another chorus of horns blared. Aubrey began to inch ahead, forcing Gage to slam the door shut. “How about we not?” she muttered under her breath.

In the next instant, he was on the run, his arm raised high in a parting wave.

Aubrey let out a frustrated grumble. Five minutes alone with him and look what happened. She let him touch her and stare at her…and…comfort her. Did she not possess so much as a smidgen of self-control?

GAGE PICKED UP his cell phone and punched in his friend’s number.

“KSLN newsroom.”

“Marty, it’s me.”

“Hey, buddy. What have you got?”

“Traffic’s moving,” Gage said. “Slow, but steady. I’ll let you know more when I reach the accident scene.”

“The tow truck just hit town. Should be in your vicinity within the next few minutes. My guess is only the northbound lane’s open.”

“Nothing coming at me, so I’d say you’re right.”

Gage kept Aubrey’s silver SUV in sight. He planned on tailing her the entire way to Blue Ridge. The road was notoriously rough in places and in her present distracted state of mind, she might not be paying close attention.

“Did you hear the latest on the Denver fire?” Marty asked.

“Got the call a half hour ago. Thirty-five percent contained as of this afternoon. Assuming the weather holds, it’ll be fifty percent by the morning.”

“Kelli’s already unpacked my bags. She was furious I might miss our six-month anniversary.”

“Newlyweds. Every month is a reason to celebrate.”

“That’s fine with me.” Marty chuckled. “Kelli really knows how to celebrate, if you catch my drift.”

Gage did. All too vividly, in light of his recent encounter with Aubrey.

“You disappointed about the fire?” Marty asked.

“Not at all.”

“Huh! I figured you’d be raring to go. It’s been almost two weeks since the last one.”

“Aubrey arrived today.”

“Ah. That’s right. The ex-wife is back in town. How’d it go?”

“Good and bad.” Gage gunned the accelerator and passed a van. Only three vehicles now separated him and Aubrey’s SUV. “Good because she let me get within ten feet of her without clamming up. Not that she talked a mile a minute.”

“And bad because…?”

“She looks great.” And feels great, too. Gage’s fingers still tingled from when he’d brushed her hair back from her face.

“Gage,” Marty said, his tone patient. “Need I remind you the lady ran out on you without so much as a ‘see ya around, it’s been swell’?”

“She didn’t run out on me. The divorce was a mutual decision.”

“Thanks to her father’s interference.”

“Can’t blame him for everything. If she’d really wanted to stay married to me, she wouldn’t have left.” Or, I could have gone with her, thought Gage. “But I see your point.”

“You were a walking train wreck afterward. Are you sure you want to put yourself out there again?”

“No. But you should have seen her.”

Gage recalled Aubrey hurrying across the gas station parking lot. Short denim skirt. Short little top. Short red hair. The only thing long about her had been her legs. He’d never seen so much of their tanned length exposed in public. The Aubrey he remembered lacked the confidence to show off her body. Gage had to admit he liked the change in her.

In fact, everything about her was different, including her green eyes. They were the same color, but their former vividness had been replaced by wariness and a sadness he didn’t think had anything to do with him or their breakup.

He often wondered what might have become of them if her father hadn’t shown up that night, waving a carrot in front of Aubrey’s face. Her decision to return to college hurt Gage, but the passing years had given him an adult perspective he lacked at twenty. He understood, at least in part, some of her reasons and didn’t disagree with them.

Blue Ridge offered little opportunity for anyone with an ambition outside of ranching. He of all people knew that. Aubrey dreamt of following in her father’s footsteps her whole life. Bombing her first year at college took a little of the wind from her sails, but it hadn’t thrown her off course.

No, Gage did that when he proposed marriage.

Marty made a disgruntled sound into the phone, distracting Gage.

“Be careful, buddy. A hot ex-wife back in town is no reason to go all stupid.”

“Quit your worrying,” Gage answered, returning his focus to Aubrey’s SUV. “I’m not planning anything.”

But he was. He’d seen the spark igniting in Aubrey’s eyes when he’d touched her. And while he wasn’t ready to go “all stupid” as Marty put it, he did want to explore possible options. Risky, yes, but the plain truth was, he’d never cared for a woman the way he had Aubrey. One look at her again and he wasn’t sure he ever would.

The only way to discover for sure if Aubrey reciprocated any of his feelings was for him was to see her again.

Already his mind was formulating a plan. One that would ensure he and Aubrey crossed paths frequently during her stay in Blue Ridge.

Chapter Two

Aubrey flopped over onto her side, pulled the bedsheet up around her neck and cracked open one eye. A field of tiny pink tulips filled her vision, more faded than they’d been the last time she slept in this room, but still the same.

She and her sister chose the wallpaper, back when she was four and Annie three. It was the first summer they’d stayed in Blue Ridge. Grandma Rose had wanted the girls to feel at home, so she and Grandpa Glen drove them into Pineville for the day and let them pick out paint, wallpaper, bedspreads, matching sheets and a lamp at the home decorating store. Being little girls, they went with a pink color scheme.

Grandma Rose never changed a thing. Every summer for the next fourteen years, Aubrey and Annie spent their nights in twin beds, slumbering amongst pink tulips. Until the summer ten years ago when, fresh from a quickie Las Vegas wedding, Aubrey had moved out of her grandparents’ house and into an old motor home parked behind the barn on the Raintree ranch.

Thinking of Gage reminded her of the two of them in her SUV yesterday. One little touch of his fingertips, one brush of her hair, and she’d gone soft and gooey inside. Old habits were definitely hard to break. Groaning, Aubrey drew the bedsheet over her head and buried her face in her pillow.

“Aubrey,” her grandmother hollered from her bedroom across the hall.

“Coming!” Aubrey sprang out of bed, glancing at the alarm clock as she did. The red numerals glowed 8:16 a.m. Yikes! No wonder her grandmother was hollering. Throwing a robe on over her pajamas, she hurried through the door.

“Were you still sleeping?” Grandma Rose asked when Aubrey entered her room.

“I could have sworn I set the alarm before I went to bed.”

“It’s all right. You needed your sleep. I could tell when you arrived yesterday that you were tired from the drive.”

More frazzled than tired, thought Aubrey. She’d seen Gage tailing her the entire way from Pineville to Blue Ridge and couldn’t shake the feeling he was going to prove as difficult to outrun during her stay here as he was on the road yesterday afternoon.

“That’s no reason for me oversleeping.” Aubrey positioned the wheelchair by the side of the bed, then helped her grandmother to a sitting position. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Over the next thirty minutes Aubrey saw to her grandmother’s needs, getting her bathed and dressed and otherwise ready to face the day. When they were done, she wheeled her grandmother to the kitchen and got her situated comfortably at the table. It still shocked Aubrey to see how small and frail her grandmother had become. When she’d arrived yesterday and glimpsed the older woman napping in a recliner, only the presence of Mrs. Payne, the neighbor, had kept Aubrey from crying out in alarm.

“What do you feel like eating this morning?” Aubrey asked as she made a pot of coffee.

Like the bedroom she and her sister had shared, there were no significant changes in the kitchen’s decor, either. Coffee was stored in the second largest of four ceramic windmill canisters on the counter. The others held flour, tea bags and sugar, in that order.

“Just toast. And maybe some of that calcium-enriched orange juice,” her grandmother answered.

“Is that all?”

“I haven’t recovered my appetite since the accident.”

No wonder her grandmother had lost so much weight. Aubrey remembered the breakfasts served in this kitchen as being hearty enough to satisfy a crew of lumberjacks.

“Well, maybe we can fix that while I’m here.” She placed two steaming mugs of coffee on the table, then opened a cupboard where she knew she’d find a loaf of bread.

“I’m so glad you came, dear.” There was genuine pleasure in her grandmother’s voice, along with a hint of sorrow. “I’ll try not to be a burden.”

Aubrey went over to her grandmother and placed an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t talk like that. You’re no burden whatsoever.”

“I suspect your father didn’t want you coming here. As far as son-in-laws go, he’s everything a mother could ask for. But he can be a little dictating at times.”

“A little?” Aubrey laughed and took the chair beside her grandmother.

Dictating did indeed describe Alexander Stuart. He was a man used to wielding authority. And though he meant well and loved his family dearly, he sometimes treated his wife and daughters like rookie interns who needed to be browbeaten into shape.

The first time Aubrey openly defied him had been the end of her freshman year at college. Unable to cope with the pressures and high expectations put on her, she’d escaped to Blue Ridge and married Gage.

It wasn’t the last time she defied him, either. And while her father had backed off over the years, he still attempted to sway her when he felt she was making a wrong decision.

Like now.

Alexander Stuart had preferred to hire a caregiver for his mother-in-law so that Aubrey could remain in Tucson and face her career crisis head-on. He disapproved of her “running off and hiding in Blue Ridge again” as he’d called it. But Aubrey didn’t tell her grandmother that.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” The older woman smiled warmly. “I’ve missed you.”

Aubrey covered her grandmother’s hand. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Sitting there in the homey kitchen she remembered so well, Aubrey was glad she’d returned to Blue Ridge. She wanted nothing to tarnish or otherwise ruin her stay. So, for her grandmother’s health and well-being and her own peace of mind, she’d learn to live—temporarily—in the same town with Gage.

She rose from the table, brimming with determination. “How about some eggs with that toast, Grandma?”

“Maybe one. Fried.” The smile tugging at her grandmother’s lips was conspiratorial. “I’m supposed to be watching my cholesterol.”

“One fried egg coming up. And we won’t tell your doctor I corrupted you.” Aubrey fixed an egg for herself, as well.

The two of them enjoyed a leisurely meal that started with a discussion of Grandma Rose’s care and diet and ended with an unexpected barrage of banging noises emanating from the front porch.

Aubrey put down her coffee mug and automatically stood. “What is that?”

“I have no idea.” Grandma Rose peered through the door-way leading into the living room.

At the sound of the front door opening, Aubrey hastily retied her knee-length robe, which suddenly felt tissue-paper-thin, then plucked her tousled hair. “Somebody’s here.” She’d forgotten what it was like living in a small town. Friends and neighbors frequently stopped by without phoning first and doorbells were for strangers.

“Morning,” Gage called from the living room. “Anybody home?”

Aubrey dropped back into her chair.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Grandma Rose called back, obviously delighted at the prospect of a visitor. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

Gage stopped in the doorway, smiling broadly. Rather than his cowboy hat, he wore a baseball cap, which he removed as he entered the room and bent down between the two women to plant a kiss on Grandma Rose’s cheek. “Mom already fed me. But I’ll take a cup of coffee if there’s extra.”

Grandma Rose tittered like a schoolgirl. “Why, of course there’s extra.”

He leaned toward Aubrey. She shied, momentarily alarmed he intended to kiss her cheek, too. But he just winked.

“Stay put,” he said. “I’ll get my own.”

Aubrey had every intention of staying put. Silly, she supposed. Gage had seen her wearing far less than pajamas and a thin robe during their marriage. Heck, the outfit she wore yesterday exposed more bare skin than this one. Her fingers gravitated toward the hem of the robe. The movement must have caught his eye, for he looked down, and his smile widened.

Damn him.

Her first instinct was to lower her head. She resisted and met his gaze head-on.

Like the previous day, heat crept up her neck, all the way to the tips of her ears. Still she stared. “Clean mugs are in the cupboard to the right of the sink,” she said.

“What brings you by this morning?” Grandma Rose asked. “And don’t tell me it’s the smell of brewing coffee.”

She appeared oblivious to Aubrey’s discomfort. The Rain-trees had always been friendly with her grandparents. Fortunately, Aubrey’s and Gage’s impulsive and short-lived marriage hadn’t affected that friendship. Given the two families’ long-standing history together, Gage was probably a frequent visitor to her grandmother’s house.

“I’m here to start work on the handicap renovations.”

“What?” Aubrey and her grandmother said in unison.

“You did advertise for a handyman?” Gage peered at them from over the brim of his mug, then took a sip of coffee. “I saw the notice posted on the bulletin board outside of Cutter’s.”

There were two markets, if one could call them markets, in Blue Ridge. Cutter’s was the larger of the two, not much more than a convenience store with a modest produce bin, while the town’s one and only gas pump could be found at the Stop and Go.

“I did,” Grandma Rose exclaimed. “But surely you can’t be answering the ad. When in the world would you have time, what with working at the ranch and all?”

Gage propped a hip on the edge of the counter in a casual stance that somehow managed to be sexy, too.

“Well, it’s not just me. We’re splitting the job between all of us in the volunteer fire department. I’m building the wheelchair ramp for the front porch. Gus will change out your round doorknobs for lever ones, and Mike’s installing a grab bar in your bathtub. Anything else you need, Kenny Junior will handle.”

“Gage is the captain.” Grandma Rose beamed. “He was promoted after Bob Stintson and his wife moved to Show Low.”

“Really?” So, Aubrey thought, he had stuck with firefighting. No surprise. Gage always had a sense of adventure. He was the one who suggested they elope, after all.

“You know we’re raising money for some new equipment.” Gage directed his statement at Grandma Rose. “We figured this would be a good chance to build the fund and help out a loyal contributor at the same time.”

“Why, I’m….” She placed a hand at her throat. “I’m just thrilled. Thank you, Gage. Thank all the boys for me. Now you swear this won’t be an inconvenience? I heard from Martha Payne yesterday your father has suffered another gout attack.”

“He’s not so bad. I think he’ll be up and around in a couple of days. Hannah can handle things for one morning,” Gage said, referring to his younger sister.

Aubrey thought she noticed a bit of tension in the lines around Gage’s mouth. She remembered Mr. Raintree as being a somewhat hard and inflexible man, on par with her own father. She and Gage always shared that commonality. If Mr. Raintree was laid up, he probably depended on Gage and Hannah to run the ranch. The work was constant and difficult, she knew firsthand from her brief residence there.

“Are you sure?” her grandmother asked. “I don’t want to be the cause of any…discord.”

“Forget it.” He dismissed her worries with a casual shrug. “I’d be here helping even if you hadn’t advertised for a handyman.”

Aubrey believed him. Gage adored her grandmother, and she him. But, as Aubrey watched their exchange, she couldn’t help feeling something was amiss in the Raintree family.

“Dad’s just being his usual grumpy self,” Gage went on.

Her grandmother nodded in understanding. “Gout is no picnic.”

“Probably less painful than a broken hip.” He shifted his weight to his other foot, looking quite at home and in no hurry to start the renovations.

“It’s been tough going so far,” Grandma Rose said, smiling, “but I expect to improve rapidly now that my granddaughter is here. I couldn’t ask for a better nurse.”

Gage toasted Aubrey with his coffee. “Here’s to granddaughters.”

Bringing her mug to her lips, she drained the last bit of coffee. “Grandma, we should probably get a move on.”

Her grandmother’s appointment wasn’t until early afternoon, but Aubrey wanted Gage out of the house. The three of them sitting around the kitchen having a friendly chat reminded her too much of days gone by.

“Where you headed?” he asked, not taking the hint and not moving an inch.

“Physical therapy,” Grandma Rose told him.

“Sounds like fun.”

“It’s hard work,” Aubrey corrected him.

“I don’t doubt it.” Unfazed by her brusque tone, Gage polished off his coffee, rinsed out his mug and placed it in the dishwasher. “And speaking of hard work, I should get cracking.”

Aubrey blew out a huge sigh when she heard the front door shut behind him. How long, she wondered, would it take to build the wheelchair ramp? More importantly, how long until she could comfortably share the same air space with him?

Getting Grandma Rose ready for their trip to Pineville didn’t take long. She obviously wished to be self-sufficient eventually and would do whatever was required of her to achieve that status. Because morale played an important part in the recovery of someone in her grandmother’s condition, Aubrey encouraged her.

Afterward, she helped her grandmother into the recliner so that she could watch her favorite soap opera. During the show, Aubrey showered and dressed. When she finished, they still had a good half hour to kill before they had to leave for the rehabilitation center in Pineville.

“Wheel me out onto the porch, dear,” Grandma Rose said, using the remote to shut off the TV, “so I can see how Gage is doing with the ramp.”

Aubrey tried to come up with a valid argument. “Are you sure? You have a big afternoon ahead of you and don’t want to overdo it.”

“I’d like to know how I can overdo it by just sitting.”

“It’s warm out there.”

“Nonsense.” Grandma Rose leaned forward and braced her hands on the armrests. “I can tolerate a little heat.”

Aubrey reluctantly complied with the request, the wheelchair bumping as it rolled over the threshold and onto the porch. She thought about asking Gage if he could replace the threshold with a flatter one, then caught herself. Asking one of the other guys might be a better approach.

The first sight to greet her as she stepped outside was Gage’s pickup truck parked in the driveway. The emblem on the door, she now noted, was some kind of flame with initials in the center. He’d lowered the tailgate and was using it as a makeshift workbench. The second sight to greet her was Gage. He stood with his back to them, bent over a circular saw and cutting wooden planks. She tried not to notice him, but her eyes kept darting across the yard to where he worked.

His shoulders were broader than she remembered, the muscles more defined and prominent. He might have grown another inch or two. Then again, maybe he just stood straighter and taller. Either way, maturity agreed with him. Were he another man, Aubrey might find the changes appealing.

When the plank Gage was cutting split neatly into two pieces, he shut off the saw and looked up. “Hey, there.” Removing his ball cap, he ran fingers through sweat-dampened hair, then flung it onto the tailgate as he came toward them. “Need a hand?”

“No, I—”

“Good heavens, Gage,” Grandma Rose interrupted. “You must be dying of thirst. Get him a glass of lemonade, will you, Aubrey?”

Setting the brake on the wheelchair, she gratefully retreated into the house. Maybe by the time she came back with his lemonade, he’d be working again.

No such luck.

He was sitting in the chair closest to Grandma Rose when Aubrey stepped outside.

“Thanks,” he said, as he shot to his feet and reached for the plastic tumbler she carried.

She gave it to him and when he’d sat back down, she inched toward the door. “I have a few things to do around the house before we leave for Pineville.”

“There’s nothing that can’t wait until later,” Grandma Rose said, motioning with her hand. “Sit down and visit for a while.”

Gage grabbed one of the other chairs and dragged it over next to his. Flashing his trademark sexy grin, he patted the seat. “You heard your grandmother. Sit and visit for a while.”

To a casual observer, the invitation appeared innocuous enough. Aubrey knew better.

He drank half the lemonade in one long swallow. “Whew! That hit the spot.” He then lifted the plastic tumbler to his forehead and rested it there. “Awfully hot for June.”

“Do you remember the day you and Gage first met?” Grandma Rose didn’t wait for a response and just prattled on. “It was at Sunday school. You were about four and Gage must have been, oh, five or six. You had on that pretty pink dress I liked with the big white sash. We had such a time with your hair, trying to make it look nice.” She made a tsking noise. “A few weeks before arriving here, you and your sister decided to play beauty parlor. Annie, the little dickens, cut a huge chunk of hair out of the left side of your head. Your poor mother cried for days.”

Aubrey had no desire whatsoever to walk down memory lane. Gage clearly didn’t share her sentiment and enthusiastically participated in the discussion, bringing up one youthful indiscretion after the other.

Crossing and uncrossing her legs, Aubrey endured the small talk. Because of Gage, she’d lived exclusively for the summer when she and Annie would stay in Blue Ridge. For nine straight weeks, their parents visited various hospitals across the country where their father would demonstrate the latest medical advance he’d made in the field of cardiovascular surgery.

Their mother, Carol May Stuart, had been raised in Blue Ridge, having met their father at college. They both liked the idea of their daughters being exposed to the same grassroots upbringing she experienced. The girls loved Blue Ridge; their grandparents loved having them stay. It had been a perfect arrangement. Until the summer after Aubrey’s freshman year at the University of Arizona when everything went to hell in a handbasket.

“Do you remember the day you came home and announced you’d eloped?” Grandma Rose’s smile turned sentimental. “I was so happy for you both.”

If Gage was ill at ease with her grandmother’s reminiscences, he didn’t show it. His attention didn’t waver from Aubrey once while the older woman recounted the incident. Not that Aubrey had made eye contact with him. But she could feel his stare just as surely as if he’d reached over and laid a hand on her.

“I remember everything,” he said in a husky voice.

She remembered everything, too. And despite the scalding temperatures, a shiver ran through her.

Perhaps sensing Aubrey’s discomfort, Grandma Rose slapped the arms of the wheelchair. “Would you look at the time.” No one had so much as glanced at their watch. “We’d best be on the road, hadn’t we, Aubrey?”

“Yes,” she mumbled and gratefully rose.

Gage also stood and grabbed the back of her chair, pulling it out. She couldn’t help herself and looked at him. Given the sexually charged atmosphere in the SUV yesterday, she fully expected desire or longing to be reflected in his features. What she saw there caught her off guard and affected her far greater.

Sadness and, unless she was mistaken, regret. For their marriage, she wondered, or that it ended? She couldn’t tell, and maybe that was for the best.

“And I need to get back to work. That ramp won’t build itself.” Gage’s smile vanquished all trace of negative emotion from his face. “Can I help you into the car, Rose?”

“Yes, thank you. That would be nice. Aubrey, fetch my purse for me, will you? It’s on the kitchen counter.”

“Sure, Grandma.”

They were leaving at last. Retrieving her grandmother’s purse first and then hers, Aubrey headed back outside just as Gage was assisting Grandma Rose into the SUV. The scene was tender enough to give Aubrey pause.

He had no sooner buckled her grandmother’s seat belt when a series of loud beeps cut the air. Stepping away from the SUV, he reached for the radio hooked to his belt. Aubrey remembered seeing similar communication devices being used by the local ranchers. After listening to a garbled voice, Gage depressed a button and returned the radio to his belt, a frown creasing his brow. “I have to leave.”

“Problems at home?” Aubrey asked.

“No.”

Without so much as a wave goodbye, he abandoned Grandma Rose and hopped into his truck. Throwing it into Reverse, he tore out the driveway, the tires spewing a shower of gravel and dirt. He hadn’t even bothered to put the tailgate back up. His ball cap sailed out and landed at the end of the driveway.

“What the heck was that all about?” Aubrey asked after retrieving the cap and loading the wheelchair into the back of her SUV. It annoyed her that Gage would take off and leave the ramp half-done, not to mention a mess in the front yard.

“I suppose he got called to a fire,” Grandma Rose answered. “What fire?” She scanned the nearby rooftops. No telltale plume of gray-black smoke billowed skyward.

“In the mountains somewhere, I suppose.” She peered out the window. “Or anywhere in the state. Once they went to California and twice to Colorado.”

Aubrey jammed the key in the ignition, inexplicably irritated. “The volunteer fire department doesn’t travel outside Blue Ridge.”

“No. But the Blue Ridge Hotshots do. Gage is also a wilderness firefighter.”

Aubrey’s mind grappled with the unexpected information. “Since when?”

“For a while now. During the summers, mostly. He does something else with them the rest of the year, too, but I don’t know what. Part-time, of course. He still works the ranch with the family.”

“You’re kidding.”

“He didn’t tell you?” Grandma Rose looked surprised.

Aubrey shook her head. “No one did.”

Her family seldom talked about the Raintrees after the divorce. Aubrey’s father resented Gage and flew off the handle every time his former son-in-law’s name was mentioned. Because his outbursts had accounted for any number of unpleasant family gatherings, Aubrey opted to keep the peace and stopped asking about Gage. News occasionally made it her way via her grandmother, but not with any regularity.

She had yet to start the SUV, and the vehicle’s interior temperature quickly escalated. Turning on the engine, she set the air-conditioning on maximum before pulling out of the driveway.

The drive to Pineville took about an hour, not all of which was filled with conversation. During the frequent lulls, Aubrey’s mind drifted to Gage. Besides being captain of the Blue Ridge Volunteer Fire Department, he was also a wilderness firefighter. Amazing.

Mountain fires had been in the news too often during the last few years for her not to know what a Hotshot was and how important they were to the safety and preservation of Arizona’s endangered high country.

She’d always assumed—along with most people in Blue Ridge—that Gage would follow in his father’s footsteps and take over management of the Raintree Ranch. To discover he’d chosen a different profession, one as dangerous and challenging as a wilderness firefighter, intrigued her.

And being intrigued by Gage was a complication she neither wanted nor needed in her life right now.

Chapter Three

The smell of chicken enchiladas, homemade pizza and hot apple pie commingled, filling Aubrey’s SUV as she drove the main road through town the following morning. From their resting place on the floor in front of the passenger seat, the foil-wrapped food dishes rattled and shook in protest with every bump, pothole and sharp turn.

Buildings and landmarks marked Aubrey’s short trip, most familiar, a few new. The feed store, the one-room public library and Mountain View Realty’s log cabin-style office building were the same as she remembered. A life-size wooden statue of a bear now stood in front of the Blue Ridge Inn, its big paw raised in greeting.

How, Aubrey asked herself, had she let her grandmother coerce her into running this errand? Some of the Hotshot crews, as reported by her grandmother’s neighbor, Mrs. Payne, had taken over the Blue Ridge community center. “A satellite fire camp of sorts,” she’d said, and explained a little about how the twenty-member crews rotated shifts. In a show of support, many of the townsfolk prepared food for the wilderness firefighters, who used the community center to eat, sleep and otherwise relax before returning to action.

According to recent reports, the blaze had been raging in the mountains twenty-five miles east of Blue Ridge since yesterday, apparently started from the smoldering remains of an illegal campfire left by recreationists. It didn’t take much to ignite a fire during the hot, dry Arizona summers.

Originally, Mrs. Payne had planned on delivering the food items. But the two older women got to chitchatting and decided Aubrey should do it. That way, they could work on a baby quilt for Mrs. Payne’s newest grandchild. Aubrey agreed, only because she didn’t have the heart to deny her grandmother the opportunity to spend an enjoyable hour with a friend. And it was for a good cause.

Besides, what were the chances of Aubrey running into Gage anyway?

That’s what you said at the gas station, a small voice inside her teased.

“Shut up,” she told the voice as she pulled into the community center parking lot.

Aubrey had spent every spare minute not dedicated to her grandmother’s care thinking about Gage and his second job. She remained glued to the radio and TV news for updates on the fire. She’d even gone so far as to research Hotshots on the Internet, using the laptop computer she’d brought with her.

Holding the box of food dishes to her chest, she used her shoulder to push open the heavy door leading into the community center. From the number of vehicles in the parking lot, she expected quite a few people to be inside. The actual count was considerably more.

A dozen or so cots took up one corner of the huge, airy room, many of them occupied. Metal chairs surrounded a TV, which sat on the small, homemade stage. Several stations had been created by arranging long tables into Us or Ts, their various purposes indicated by a cardboard sign taped to a corner.

“Hi, there. You bring a food donation?” The woman greeting Aubrey was about her age and looked vaguely familiar. Before she could place the face, the woman said, “You’re Aubrey Stuart, aren’t you? I heard you were back in town.”

“That’s me,” Aubrey said, wishing she could remember the woman.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

She smiled apologetically and shook her head.

“It’s been a long time.” The woman returned her smile. “I was Eleanor Carpenter. I’m Eleanor Meeks now. I used to live about a half mile up the road from your grandparents. You played sometimes with my younger sister, Beth. When you weren’t playing with Gage, that is.” Eleanor’s eyes remained warm and friendly, but her smile turned impish.

“Of course.” Aubrey was surprised by the delight she felt at running into a former acquaintance. “Nice to see you again.” She shifted the box of food to her hip. “Are you volunteering here?”

“Yep. When I can arrange for someone to watch the kids, that is.” She took Aubrey by the elbow and led her toward the kitchen located in the rear of the huge room. “Let’s find a place for this food and then we can talk.”

“Is your husband a Hotshot?” Aubrey asked.

“Was.” Eleanor’s smile faded. “He was killed two years ago in a burnover incident when the wind suddenly changed direction.”

“Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry.” Aubrey instantly flashed on her parents’ late friends, Jesse and Maureen. “I didn’t—”

“It’s all right.” Eleanor reached into the cardboard box and removed one of the covered dishes. She placed it in an empty spot on the counter. “I won’t lie and say things are always easy. But me and the kids, we’re doing okay. Volunteering with the Hotshots helps.” A shadow of grief crossed her face. It lasted only a moment and then she was smiling again.

Aubrey couldn’t help thinking of Gage. Was he all right? Was he in danger? How long until he returned?

Some of the Internet Web sites she’d visited the previous night portrayed wilderness firefighting as a glamorous and exciting profession, the men and women as heroes. They were, but as an E.R. nurse, Aubrey knew better than most the not so glamorous and exciting side of firefighting.

“Hey, Eleanor,” someone called. “Can you give us a hand? This idiot fax machine won’t print.”

“I’m the local Jane-of-all-trades.” Eleanor sighed wearily, though she acted more pleased than put out. “Hang around, why don’t you? If you’re not in a hurry.” She started off, then stopped and turned. “It’s good to see you again, Aubrey. Welcome home.”

Welcome home.

The phrase echoed in Aubrey’s head. Though she had lived most of her life in Tucson, Blue Ridge had been home to her, too. Certainly the home of her heart.

“Thanks,” she told Eleanor. “I think I will hang around.”

Whatever malfunction had struck the fax machine, it perplexed not only Eleanor, but several others. While the group of workers stood over the machine—reminding Aubrey of surgeons and nurses in an operating room—she finished unloading the food dishes and went wandering the community center.

As she neared the front door, it flew open. A large group of Hotshots entered, dressed in dark brown pants, black T-shirts and heavy work boots with thick rubber soles. They were covered in grime, and the smell of smoke clung to them, nearly overpowering Aubrey.

She couldn’t avoid hearing their conversation as they passed.

“I’m going to grab a quick bite to eat,” said one of the tallest of the group. “What about the rest of you?”

Most concurred.

“I’m gonna hit the sack for a while.” The speaker yawned noisily. “I haven’t slept in two days.”

The taller man slapped his buddy companionably on the back. “Take care of that arm first.”

“This?” He held out the affected limb, and Aubrey noticed an ugly gash running the length of his forearm. “It’s just a scratch.”

“I don’t care if it’s a pinprick,” the taller man said. “Take care of it.”

“Yes, sir.” The injured man veered away from the others and went behind a U-shaped station, where he dropped down into a metal chair and rolled up his sleeve. The cardboard sign taped to the table read First Aid.

Without stopping to think, Aubrey went over to him. “Can I help you with that? I’m a nurse.”

He peered up at her, and his face brightened. “Sure.”

She came around the tables and conducted a quick inventory of the available medical supplies. Then she took the man’s arm and examined the cut. It was long and inflamed, but not deep.

“How did this happen?”

“A tree branch attacked me.” His smile widened and took on a new appearance—that of a man interested in a woman. “You got to watch out for those fellows. They’re sneaky. Catch you when you’re not looking.”

She released his arm, giving him the kind and helpful smile she reserved for patients. “I’m going to the kitchen for some water to wash this. I’ll be right back.”

“And I’ll be right here.”

In the kitchen, she found a small basin that she promptly filled with warm water from the faucet. She also found a stash of industrial paper towels and grabbed a handful. Not the best for cleansing wounds, but they’d do in a pinch.

True to his word, the man was waiting for her when she returned.

“You’re back.” He didn’t mask his delight at seeing her.

Aubrey set the basin and paper towels down on the table near him and donned a pair of latex gloves. While she treated his wound, he engaged her in lively conversation. He was a good-looking man, despite the dirt and grime. And he didn’t come on so strong that he offended her with his mild flirting. Another woman would probably flirt right back. But not her.

Aubrey met, and subsequently dated, any number of available, attractive men. With every one, she waited for that telltale flutter of awareness in her middle. It rarely came, and the relationships tended to fizzle out, some sooner than others. Yet one glimpse of Gage bent over a circular saw cutting planks and she’d had enough flutters to lift her three feet off the ground.

“Are you a volunteer medic?” The injured man’s question jarred Aubrey from her musings.

“No. I really just came by today to drop off some food donations.” Aubrey had finished cleansing the wound and was applying an antibiotic ointment to the affected area.

“You live here?”

“Uh…yes and no.” She opted for the condensed version, not wanting to go into her life story. “I’m staying with my grandmother for an extended visit. She’s recovering from a broken hip. How about you?”

He shook his head. “Sacramento. Born and raised.”

“And you belong to the Blue Ridge Hotshots?”

“No way,” he scoffed and pointed with his free hand to the emblem on his T-shirt. It bore a resemblance to the one on Gage’s truck. “I’m with the Sierra Nevada Hotshots.”

“Really? I didn’t know there were other firefighters here.”

“There are four crews working the fire right now. Us, Blue Ridge, Albuquerque and the Tucson Hot Shots. More are scheduled to arrive tonight if the fire continues to spread.”

“I just learned yesterday that Hotshots traveled to different states.”

“We go wherever we’re needed. Kind of like the marines.” A dimple appeared in his cheek when he gave her a crooked grin. “So, are you free for dinner when this fire’s done making the morning headlines, or do you have a boyfriend?”

“I…ah….” Why was she even hesitating? She absolutely did not have a boyfriend, and this seemingly nice, definitely handsome man had just asked her out. She tried to make her lips form the word no. “N-not really.”

“Uh, oh. Too slow.” The man—whose name Aubrey didn’t even know—chuckled good-naturedly. “And the eyes were a dead giveaway, too. Is he with the Blue Ridge Hotshots?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said, strong and firm with no hesitation this time.

“A wannabe boyfriend? Are you one of those Hotshot groupies?”

“Absolutely not!” She huffed indignantly. “May I remind you I’m holding your injured arm in my hands, and I’m not above inflicting pain.”

His chuckle developed into a full-blown belly laugh. “As much as I’d be tempted to in this case, I don’t steal another man’s girl. But if you ever get tired of him, or he doesn’t treat you right, give me a call. Sacramento’s not so far away I can’t find my way back here.”

“Honestly, there’s no one—”

“MacPherson! You’re not giving this young lady a hard time, are you?” The taller man from earlier appeared, his jaw set in a no-nonsense frown.

“Who, me?” MacPherson pretended to be insulted.

“You’ll have to excuse him, ma’am. He has a tendency to run off at the mouth. You have my permission to boot him where it counts if necessary.”

“It’s all right,” Aubrey answered.

“Hey, Captain.” MacPherson held up the arm that Aubrey had finished dressing. “She’s a nurse.”

“Are you?” the captain asked.

“Yes, I am.”

“Are you a volunteer here?”

“Her boyfriend’s one of the local crew,” MacPherson interjected before Aubrey could answer.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she protested, but no one paid her any heed.

The captain had made an attempt to wash up. His face and hands were scrubbed clean, if not the rest of him. “Have you ever considered volunteering? I’d be happy to introduce you to Marty Paxton, the Blue Ridge commander.”

“Thanks, but no.”

“Wilderness firefighting teams can always use skilled medical personnel.”

Aubrey glanced around the community center, seeking a diversion. Where had Eleanor gone off to? “I can’t. I’m the sole caregiver for my invalid grandmother.” That sounded better than the truth.

Jesse and Maureen’s deaths had done a real number on Aubrey, shaking her confidence to the core. No matter how hard she tried not to, she saw their faces in every trauma patient she treated. Aubrey believed she owed her patients the best possible care. How could she explain to the captain that she feared she might freeze the first time a seriously injured firefighter was brought in?

Thankfully, he took no for an answer. “Well, if you ever change your mind, I’m sure there’ll be an opening for you.”

“And you could always come to Sacramento if you get tired of this place.” MacPherson bounced to his feet and shot her a look loaded with innuendo. “Thanks for the bandage job. See ya around, I hope.”

“Nice meeting you, ma’am.” The captain nodded curtly. “Let’s go, MacPherson. We got a call while you were under the knife. Playtime is over.”

“But we just got here.”

The rest of MacPherson’s complaint went unheard as the two men were joined by the remaining members of their crew. Moving as one, they rushed out the door. If they’d been riding horses, Aubrey would have expected to see a cloud of dust billowing behind them.

“You done?”

She turned at the voice and, seeing Eleanor, smiled. “There you are. I missed you earlier.”

“Sorry about that. I got suckered into making a bunch of copies at the real estate office next door where I work. The owner is good about letting the Hotshots use his equipment.”

“That’s nice.” It seemed to Aubrey the locals were more than willing to assist the firefighters however they could. She’d forgotten how much she liked the we’re-in-this-together attitude prevalent in small towns.

“Someone just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Can I interest you in a cup?” Eleanor asked. “Or an iced tea? I’m scheduled for my break. We could catch up on old times.”

If the promise of a caffeine pick-me-up wasn’t enough, the hope shining in Eleanor’s face would have persuaded Aubrey. “Sounds great.” She reached into her jeans pocket for her cell phone. “Let me check in at home quick. Make sure everything’s okay with my grandmother.”

Home. There was that word again. She should probably be careful how she used it before someone—herself included—got the wrong impression. Look at the conclusion MacPherson had drawn thanks to one little slip of the tongue.

Why would anyone think she had a boyfriend?

“Have you seen Gage yet?” Eleanor asked after she and Aubrey found a quiet spot in which to curl up with their iced teas.

“Yesterday,” Aubrey answered with forced nonchalance. “He and the other volunteer firefighters are doing the handicap renovations on my grandmother’s house.”

“Mmm. I think I heard that. Funny how neither one of you ever remarried.”

Aubrey didn’t rise to the bait Eleanor dangled. “Not really. I’ve been focused on my career for the past several years. Serious relationships have been low on my list of priorities.” Not exactly the truth, but not a lie, either.

“I can certainly understand.”

“What about your sister, Beth? Has she gotten married?”

Aubrey’s attempt to change the subject backfired.

“Last spring. To an insurance salesman in Show Low. You know, after you and Gage…after you left town, she made quite a play for him. He turned her down flat, which she took pretty hard. Of course, we all told her she was wasting her time. He was never interested in anyone but you. Oh, he’s dated some. I mean, no man is made of stone. There was one gal in Pineville he hooked up with for a while. A technician for the phone company, I think.” Eleanor smiled coyly. “But like you, serious relationships have been low on his list of priorities.”

As it had yesterday on the porch with Gage and her grandmother, reminiscing made Aubrey fidgety. “Tell me about your children,” she said. “Do you have any pictures?”

Trust a mother’s pride in her offspring. To Aubrey’s vast relief, Eleanor immediately switched gears and for the next several minutes they enjoyed an amiable conversation. One that didn’t twist Aubrey’s stomach into knots.

“I’ve really enjoyed visiting, but I need to get back to work,” Eleanor said with reluctance. “I’m on duty until seven.”

“It’s been great. I hope we can do it again while I’m here.”

“Oh.” Eleanor’s eyebrows lifted. “You aren’t staying for good?”

“No. Only until my grandmother recovers.”

If she did recover. The chances of an elderly person leading a fully independent life after breaking a hip weren’t good. But Aubrey refused to dwell on statistics. Rather, she and her grandmother would take it one step at a time.

After a goodbye hug, Aubrey and Eleanor parted company. The TV blared in the background as Aubrey headed down the center of the large room. Men still slept in the cots, some of them snoring soundly.

She was about ten feet from the front door when it swung open and another group of Hotshots entered. These firefighters were wearing navy blue T-shirts, as opposed to black, she noted, and included a woman among their ranks. Knowing they must be tired and hungry, Aubrey stepped aside to let them pass, smiling at their nods and hellos, until the last man stepped through the door.

Upon seeing him, her smile froze.

Like the other Hotshots, he was dirty and grimy and smelled of smoke. Black smears covered his face and arms. Sweat plastered his short black hair to his head. A combination of sun, heat and wind had turned his tanned complexion dark and ruddy. Bits of debris clung to his clothing, and there was a jagged tear in the knee of his pants.

He looked tough and rugged and strong enough to hammer nails with his bare knuckles. He also looked sexy as hell.

The fluttering thing started again in Aubrey’s middle. Only today it resembled propellers on a twin-engine plane rather than butterfly wings.

“Aubrey! What are you doing here?”

“Hi. I…uh…brought some food.”

As a boy, he’d been cute. As a teenager, handsome. But Gage Raintree as a man fully grown was utterly breathtaking.

“Are you leaving already?” he asked.

“Actually, I’ve been here a while. And yes, I am leaving.”

The other Hotshots had moved on ahead, leaving the two of them as alone as they could be in a large room full of people.

Gage took a step back and pushed open the door with one hand, the corded muscles of his arm standing out. “Here. I’ll walk you to your car.”

Oh, no, thought Aubrey. What now? Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The problem was, after getting one look at him, she really didn’t want to do either of those things.

GAGE ENTERTAINED no doubts he would somehow get Aubrey alone and harbored no qualms about doing whatever was necessary to accomplish that end. He didn’t blame her for her obvious reluctance; they had a lot of unresolved stuff still hanging over their heads. And just because he was ready and willing to tackle some of that unresolved stuff didn’t mean she felt the same.

A sense of satisfaction filled him when she finally relented and agreed to let him accompany her outside. As a result, he now had the enjoyment of following her to her SUV. And it was definitely enjoyable.

She wore jeans today. Low-riders. And a snug little blouse that revealed a modest band of creamy flesh. When she moved just right, he could see her belly button. A definite plus. Her short, bouncy hair had been pulled off her face with a headband, but several tendrils escaped, falling into her eyes.

Eyes that watched his every move.

Since running into Aubrey, Gage had dwelled on little else except her. Even the fire had taken a mental backseat, which was unusual for him. He tended to throw himself into firefighting to the exclusion of everything else, which caused a significant number of rifts with his family. To say his father disapproved of Gage being a firefighter was the understatement of the century.

When he and Aubrey reached her SUV, she reached for the driver-side door handle. Anticipating just such a move, he blocked her with his body.

“Sorry about leaving everything a mess yesterday,” he said, leaning against the door. “When I get called, I have to report immediately.”

“It’s no problem.” She dug impatiently through her purse for her car keys. “I moved what I could into the garage, if that’s all right.”

“I’ll call Hannah. Have her stop by and pick it up.”

“Don’t bother. It’s not hurting anything.”

“Thanks. That’ll save me making a second trip between the ranch and the house.”

“How’s the fire? I saw on the news it’s only five percent contained.”

A question. Good. Maybe she wasn’t as skittish as she appeared. “We had a lucky break today with the weather, which is encouraging. But you can never predict for sure when it comes to fires, so I’m not packing my gear just yet.”

“I admit I was a little surprised to learn you’re a wilderness firefighter. When did that happen?”

“About four years ago. My friend Marty recruited me. I told you about him. He’s with the Pineville radio station. We met when the old Hunt Museum and General Store burned down, and he came out to do a live broadcast.”

“I took it for granted you ran the ranch with your dad.” She gave a little shrug. “Since that was, well, that was always…”

“My plan. Yeah, well, it’s still my dad’s plan.”

“He doesn’t like you being a firefighter?” Her eyebrows knitted, then lifted. “I think he’d be proud.”

Gage expelled a long breath. “It’s not that he doesn’t like me being a firefighter, just not now. Between his gout attacks and Hannah commuting back and forth during the week to the agricultural college in Pineville, running the ranch falls mostly to me.”

“And firefighting has a tendency to cut into your chores.”

“In a big way. It’s a forty-hour-a-week job during the season. Double that when we’re at a fire.”

“What do you do when you’re not fighting fire?”

“Clear roads of hazards, burn control fires, training. It’s never-ending.”

“You’ve taken on quite a load,” she observed.

“More so now that we’re participating in the drought study.”

“Drought study?”

“For the federal government. All the ranches in the area have lost a lot of grazing land because of the drought. We didn’t think we were going to make it for a while, and wouldn’t have without the extra income from the study.” He didn’t tell Aubrey how very close the Raintrees had come to losing the ranch that had been in their family for five generations.

“I thought you liked ranching.”

“I do.” He caught her gaze and held it. “But I love firefighting, and I’m going to keep doing it despite my dad’s objections.”

“Good for you, Gage.”

“Do me a favor, will you? The next time my dad and I have an argument, repeat those same words to me.”

He grinned, attempting to lighten the mood and fend off the resentment perpetually gnawing at him. His father bent over backward to support his younger sister’s ambitions, which were in keeping with the Raintree tradition of cattle ranching, but not his son’s.

She smiled back. “Is he really that tough on you?”

“Tougher.”

“What about hiring help?”

“We can’t afford it.”

“I hope you can find a compromise. Firefighting is special. Not that ranching isn’t,” she quickly amended. “But you make a real difference in the world.” Genuine admiration tinged her voice, and his chest swelled.

“Like being a nurse?”

“Firefighting is nothing like being a nurse. You put your life on the line for others. That takes courage and daring.”

“It’s just a job.”

“It’s not just a job.” She tilted her head and stared him square in the face. “I have to say, Gage, you really impress me. Not that I wasn’t—”

She didn’t have a chance to finish because he hauled her into his arms, lifted her onto her toes and brought her mouth to within a tiny fraction of his.

Her green eyes went wide. “If you’re thinking of kissing me, think again.”

“Oh, I’m going to kiss you, all right.”

Deciding this was exactly the opportunity he’d unconsciously been hoping for, he swung her around and pinned her against the SUV door. She didn’t run screaming, which was all the encouragement he needed. He then made good on his threat and kissed her soundly.

For the second time that day, he felt the searing sting of flames licking his body. Only these flames were the product of his own desire.

She didn’t respond initially, and he could sense her struggle to remain unaffected. Gage would have none of it. He didn’t merely seek entrance into her mouth with his tongue, he demanded it. And once inside, he made it his personal mission to affect Aubrey as much as possible. She held out for another few seconds, then conceded with a soft moan.

Mindless of the warm summer sun beating down on them and the occasional passing car or pedestrian, he kissed her over and over. Venturing from her mouth, he tasted a delicate earlobe and the sweet curve of her neck where it joined her shoulder. She shuddered and sighed, and he took her mouth again.

“Enough,” she gasped when he finally allowed her to catch her breath.

Because he was fast approaching the point of no return, he eased back a step.

Aubrey pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. “We can’t do this. It’s crazy.”

“I want to see you. I think it’s pretty obvious there’s still a lot of attraction on both sides.”

She worried her bottom lip and shook her head. “Not a good idea.”

“I disagree.” Gage’s heart rate had finally slowed to something his overcharged system could tolerate. “Have dinner with me later this week. We’ll talk.”

Her dubious expression spoke volumes. “You’re right about one thing. There is still a lot of attraction on both sides. But I’ve only been back in town a few days, and it’s not like we’ve remained close through the years.”

“Okay, w—”

She cut him off with a raised hand. “I’m not ready…not going to start dating you again. It would be a mistake. For a lot of reasons.”

“Aubrey…”

“I’m out of here in six weeks when my leave of absence is over. And I don’t think either of us wants another miserable parting. One was more than enough.”

Gage was struck by the sudden pain clouding Aubrey’s eyes. Pain because she’d hurt him and regretted it? Or had he hurt her? Truthfully, he’d never stopped to consider the possibility that his refusal to accompany her to Tucson might have been viewed by Aubrey as a form of rejection. Well, maybe he should consider it and consider it hard.

“I really have to go.”

“Aubrey—”

She grabbed the door handle of her SUV and got in. This time, he didn’t stop her.

“Goodbye, Gage. And good luck with the fire.” She shut the door.

He stayed, watching her pull out of the parking lot and replaying the last five minutes in his head. Kissing her had been great. Unbelievable. He didn’t regret it for one second. But it was clear he’d pressured Aubrey for more than she was prepared to give. And if he didn’t want to scare her off, he’d have to take a less headstrong approach.

Fortunately, Gage counted patience as one of his strong suits, along with perseverance.

If he’d learned anything as a Hotshot, it was when to fight and when to back off.

And that backing off didn’t signify quitting.

Chapter Four

Gage was dirty, hungry and more tired than he could remember being in a long time. He wanted a hot shower, food—any food would do—and fourteen hours of uninterrupted sleep. In that order.

Standing at the back door of the ranch house, he indulged himself in a good, long stretch. When he finished, he treated the family dog, Biscuit, to an ear-scratching and head-patting combo. The fire hadn’t been the worst one Gage had fought by any means, but there had been a few hairy moments, thanks to Mother Nature and her unpredictable whims. In addition, they were shorthanded, forcing all the Hotshots to work double shifts. The one time he’d visited the community center and saw Aubrey was his only break in three full days. But what a break it had been.

Since then, he’d repeatedly relived those minutes they kissed, lingering in particular on the taste of her warm and giving mouth. Not to mention the exact moment she melted against him, abandoning all efforts to resist. He thought less about her sudden turnaround. It surprised him how she’d gone from searing hot one minute to icy cold the next, and he intended to focus the sum total of his mental energies on resolving whatever prompted it.

Tomorrow, when he actually had some mental energy in supply.

He guessed it to be somewhere between ten and ten-thirty in the morning, if his blurry vision could be trusted. Good. His father and sister would be out somewhere working the ranch and not in the house. He’d persuade his mother to fix him breakfast while he showered, assuming she was home and not at work, then sleep until supper. She’d cover for him, and he could avoid a confrontation with his father until he’d had a chance to refuel and reenergize.

Luck, unfortunately, wasn’t on Gage’s side.

He stepped into the bright, sunny kitchen of the Raintree home and nearly collided with his father, who had apparently been on his way out the door.

“Morning, Dad.” Gage quickly recovered and blustered through a friendly greeting. “How’s the ankle?” He side-stepped the older man, making straight for the refrigerator.

Having raised two children, one headstrong and the other a handful, Joseph Raintree long ago perfected a stare worthy of freezing a guilty twelve-year-old in his tracks. Gage wasn’t a kid anymore, but the stare still had the ability to immobilize him. He came to a grinding halt.

“You’ve been gone since Tuesday,” Joseph said in a low voice. His lips hardly moved, yet each word struck Gage like a tiny bullet.

There wasn’t more than a half-inch difference in their heights or the widths of their shoulders. And before the gout had gotten so bad, his father regularly gave Gage a run for his money in arm-wrestling matches. Steel-gray hair and a pronounced limp were the only visible signs Joseph had aged in the last twenty years. Inside the man, Gage knew, was a different story. Chronic pain had taken a toll on his father, in more ways than one.

“No message. No phone call. Your poor mother was worried sick.”

“Wait just a minute.” Gage exhaled and steadied himself. “I called home the minute I hung up from dispatch and talked to Hannah.”

“Who didn’t tell us until that evening where you were.”

And this was somehow Gage’s fault? “Her lack of communication skills isn’t my problem.”

“You’re part of this family, which makes it your problem.”

“Dad, even if she never said a word, you knew where I was.” Gage bent over the sink, ran the cold water and splashed a handful on his face. “All you had to do was listen to the local news or pick up the phone and talk to a neighbor,” he said after toweling dry. “Maybe leave this damn ranch once in a while and go into town.”

“You will not take that tone with me.”

“Dad—”

“What you will do is get dressed and finish the chores that need doing around here. Between you being gone and my gout, we’re behind. The herd hasn’t been moved to the south range yet, and we’re almost a week late in filing the latest grazing study report.”

“Didn’t Hannah do anything while I was gone?” Anger and resentment built inside Gage, fed in large part by his utter exhaustion. His younger sister, it seemed to him, got away with as little work as possible. He didn’t understand it, given her intention of taking over management of the ranch one day from their father. “I’m not the only one in this family capable of filling out forms.” He looked past his father into the family room. “Where is Hannah, anyway?”

“Registering for summer school.”

Gage slumped against the refrigerator and scrubbed his bristled jaw. “Summer school. How could I forget?”

How could he?

Hannah majored in agricultural management at Pineville College. She made the two-hour round-trip drive three days a week, arriving home too late to get much work done on the ranch. If not for a scholarship, she wouldn’t be attending college at all.

Gage didn’t begrudge his sister an education. Since he had no plans to follow in their father’s footsteps, he was all for Hannah doing it. And he himself had attended firefighting academy. But he did begrudge her their father’s blatant favoritism. Hannah was separated from Gage by eight years and three miscarriages. As the long-awaited and much-wanted second child, she could do no wrong in the eyes of her doting parents.

“I thought we agreed Hannah was going to stay home this summer.” Convinced his argument fell on deaf ears, Gage nonetheless persisted. “You know June and July are the busiest months of year for me.”

“Can’t be helped. She needs some class for next semester.”

Gage pushed off the refrigerator. One class might be doable, if they all worked together.

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