12-Alarm Cowboys (173 page)

Cade had no idea what he said. Couldn’t hear a thing on account of the blood rushing in his ears, but he did notice her slight frown. Noticed how she pulled away. It was subtle, but it was there.

It was enough.

He hated leaving.
Hated leaving Lisa there, sitting next to Cody, but he needed to get to the firehouse. When he stood and turned to her and said, “It was great seeing you again,” he thought he saw regret in her eyes. He hoped he did.

Before he pushed through the door out onto the street, he glanced back and found her attention on him. He had no idea why that sent a ripple of warmth through him.

Ah hell. Yes, he did.

The Snake Gully Fire Department was run out of an old brick building next to city hall. Compared to the fire stations he’d worked in with the marines—even the pop-up stations that moved from site to site as the troops advanced—this one was practically decrepit. There was one bay for the fire truck, and even that was so narrow, the firefighters could barely maneuver when the truck was inside. The medic unit was parked in the side alley. The station house had a large kitchen, training room and living area downstairs, and a dorm on the upper level, complete with antique pole. It desperately needed upgrading, but the town had never been able to get the bond to pass.

But, as they always did, they made do with what they had. And for Cade, and most of the other volunteers, it was only a part-time gig.

The guys greeted him with whoops and hollers as he stepped into the kitchen, but he suspected the cheers were for the snacks. Bobby and Tank grabbed the bags and riffled through them.

“Hey, hold on. Those are for later,” Cade sputtered as Tank popped open the chips.

The guys just laughed and dug in.

Cade shook his head and plodded up the stairs, dropping his bag on an empty bunk.

He’d been looking forward to this training weekend for months. Not only because he hated going so long without a refresher of his firefighting skills, but because he’d missed the camaraderie of the team. While he loved the ranch—it was the home he’d grown up in after all—and he loved his siblings, he often felt lonely. These boisterous get-togethers with his fellow firefighters made him feel a part of something that mattered.

Not that strip ranches didn’t matter.

But, honestly, they didn’t.

“Hey, buddy.” Sandy poked his head in the door and grinned. “Glad you could make it.” Sandy was one of the two firefighters Snake Gully kept on staff. All the others were volunteers.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Cade said with a smile. And he meant it. But although they had a great time that night—lots of laughter and animated conversations amongst men and women who shared similar passions for firefighting—the whole evening he found himself wishing he was still at the bar. With her.

The alarm woke him from a deep sleep, but Cade shot up in a second. His years as a marine deployed to warzones and his training as a firefighter kicked in. He was dressed before his head cleared. The other men moved quickly as well, but Cade was the first one down the pole.

Technically they weren’t supposed to use the pole—city lawyers had claimed it was a liability—but they did anyway. He landed on his feet and rushed to his locker, pulling on his turnout gear. It took him seconds to suit up.

Sandy was already at the wheel of the engine as Cade and the other guys piled in. “Is this a drill?” Cade asked.

“Nope.” A dark snarl. “Come on, boys,” he bellowed at the others. “Let’s move it.”

“What do we got?”

Sandy frowned. “The goddamn motel,” he growled. “That place is a goddamn death trap. I told the mayor it should have been closed down years ago.” He went on, griping, as he pulled out of the station, about how the town council always ignored his recommendations. But Cade didn’t hear a thing. His gut had clenched, his heart stalled.

Lisa was at the motel.

Fuck.

When they arrived, one end of the structure was fully engulfed. Flames flickered in the windows and the sound of shattering glass rocked through the night air. Cade scanned the crowd, manically searching. His belly dipped when he didn’t see her.

“Is everyone out?” Sandy asked the motel manager, Dundy. He was a balding man with a severe case of Dunlap syndrome—his belly had “dun lapped over his belt.” He was dressed in a pair of skivvies and a stained wifebeater.

He shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”

Sandy scowled at him and whipped around, barking orders. “Silver and Brody, take the far end. Check and clear. There may be victims inside. Daniels and Wade, with me,” Sandy called. “Let’s get those hoses out.”

Cade and Brody jogged to the far end of the motel. Though flames were dancing on the roof, there was still time to safely check the rooms. The first cabin was empty, bed made and room spotless. Cade marked the door and moved on to the next. He and Brody leapfrogged the rooms to move more quickly. Halfway through the building, he still hadn’t found Lisa and his panic was rising. If she was at the fully engulfed end, she could be—

Damn.

Ruthlessly he continued, moving closer and closer to danger, ignoring the weight of his SCBA gear and the sweat prickling on his brow. He had to find her. Had to.

He kicked in another door and reeled back as a shower of embers fell. Flames licked around the doorframe. A hint of white through the smoke caught his attention and to his horror, he realized it was a small form, dressed in a white nightie, hunkering in the bathroom in the back. He knew at once, it was Lisa.

And hell. Her room was ablaze.

‡

S
he awakened to
an odd crackling and the smell of smoke. It took a mere moment for Lisa to slough off the coils of a deep sleep and realize she was in danger, but it was a moment lost. A loud crack resonated and part of the roof collapsed, dropping a flaming beam in front of the door. Glowing cinders danced through the room. The curtains on the window caught with a whoosh and red tongues licked upward, creating twin rivers of fire. Her gut lurched as it occurred to her, she was trapped.

Keeping low, below the roiling smoke, she ran for the bathroom and pounded on the tiny window until it broke. She gasped, filling her lungs with fresh air. She grabbed a towel and soaked it then held it to her face and peered out at the room. The conflagration was worse. The fire roared
—roared—
consuming everything in an unrelenting, scorching wave.

This is it,
she thought.
This is how I die.

She would either burn to death, or collapse from smoke inhalation. Frankly, she was hoping for the smoke inhalation.

She soaked the other towels as well—wrapping one around her head and the other around her body—thinking they might protect her from the heat for a bit. But she was probably delusional.

Just when she was convinced there was no hope, when she was sure it was all over here and now, the walls shook with a tremendous impact and the door flew open, sending the singed beam over onto the bed; the mattress ignited with a howl.

Lisa’s pulse surged as she spotted a man, dressed in full firefighter gear, outlined in the frame.

Thank God.

Thank God.

As though he had no fear at all, he waded in, through the inferno. To her mind he seemed like every hero she’d ever dreamed of. He was large and strong and indomitable. Without a word, he lifted her in his arms and bolted from the fiery hell.

The kiss of the cool, crisp night was exquisite. Lisa sucked in a deep breath, and then began to cough as her lungs seized. She clung to her rescuer’s shoulders as he ran—though there was no need, as his hold on her was firm, comforting. She glanced back at the motel and her pulse lurched when she saw the full extent of the fire.

Holy God.

There was no way the motel could be saved. Any of it.

Even as the thought occurred to her, one end of the building collapsed. A cloud of sparks engulfed them. Her fireman hunched his body over hers, taking the brunt of the blast.

She was aware of other men running around, of calls and bellows and great streams of water blasting into the blaze, but mostly, she was aware of him. His huffed breaths, his strength, his warmth.

He gingerly lowered her to the curb next to a medic unit, wrapped her in a blanket and then he pulled off his helmet and SCBA gear.

Lisa gaped. Her pulse hammered.

Cade.
Cade Silver.

Deep-blue eyes entranced her. She would recognize them anywhere, even on a grubby soot-covered face. And what a face. As gorgeous as he had been in the bar, dressed in jeans and a chambray shirt, he was infinitely hotter now, dressed as he was in turnout gear.

His jaw seemed firmer, his lips fuller. His body bigger.

Damn, he was hot.

She shivered as arousal scalded her. It was probably nothing more than a natural reaction to a brush with death. Or not.

Maybe it was simply
him
.

“Are you all right, Lisa?” he asked. His voice was low, raspy.

“I’m fine.” Hers was raspy too.

He stared at her as though he couldn’t bear to look away, and then forced his attention to the fire. “I need to get back,” he said. “But Taggert will take care of you. Okay?” He waved to a man dressed in blue slacks and a white shirt with a paramedic patch sewn onto the chest.

Lisa nodded. It was all she could manage. She was incapable of speech.

He sketched a salute to Taggert, put his gear back on and headed back into the fray. As the paramedic checked her over, Lisa watched Cade and his fellow firefighters battle the blaze. It was funny how she always knew which shadowed figure was his. As if her mind had memorized his form.

One thought kept running through her mind:
He’d saved her. He’d saved her.

“That was a close call, ma’am.”

She jerked and forced her attention to the man kneeling by her side. To her surprise he was taking her blood pressure. She’d been completely unaware of that until now. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, that was a close call. Silver pulled you out just in time.”

“Yes.” She shuddered. “He did.”

Taggert chuckled as he reached for her pulse. “Figures though.”

“Figures?”

“That it would be him.”

Lisa followed his gaze and saw Cade bracing himself against the spray of the hose. The flames were almost out. “Why?”

“Not the first time he’s run into a burning building to pull a pretty lady to safety.”

Well, he
was
a fireman.

Taggert must have read her thoughts in her expression. “Do you remember that story on the news a couple years ago when Cherise went to Iraq?”

“Yeah.” The pop star had been there entertaining the troops when enemy insurgents had attacked the base. She’d nearly died but she’d been saved by a—“That was Cade?”

“The one and only.” He winked. “They say she thanked him with a kiss. He’s been a legend here ever since.”

“I-I didn’t know he was in the service.” It occurred to her how little she actually knew about him. She knew
everything
about Cody, but then, Cody hadn’t shut up for two minutes during dinner.

“Cade enlisted right after graduation. He came back when his dad died, to help with the ranch.”

“The stud ranch?” She couldn’t help the jibe.

“Yeah.” Taggert grinned. “That one. We were real glad to have him back, though. We needed the help. And say what you want about the military, they sure do know how to train firefighters.”

“I bet they do.”

He leaned back and set his hand on her arm. “So you have some cuts and minor burns, but thanks to those towels, you’re not burned bad.” She glanced at the towels piled beside her and was surprised to see that they were completely dry. She was also surprised to realize Taggert had wrapped her hands. She stared at them bemusedly because she had no memory of that at all.

He patted her knee. “It’s natural to be a bit dazed. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Can I get you a bottle of water?”

Oh God. “Water would be wonderful.”

Thankfully, he opened it for her, because her hands were bandaged. The cool rush of liquid on her burning throat was sublime. As she finished the bottle, the firefighters, who had beaten back the flames, gathered by the medic unit for a debriefing. Lisa listened with half an ear. Nearly every ort of her attention was on Cade.

There was no reason for her soul to trill the way it did when he came and sat by her side and shot her a soothing smile.

But it did.

“How are you
doing?” Cade asked. There was no call for the arousal that ignited at the sight of her sitting there in a skimpy nightie. Though the blanket covered most of her, her legs were bare.

“I’m fine.” Her eyes were wide, damp. He checked her pupils and, though he was certain Taggert had already verified she wasn’t in shock, he was relieved to see they were normal. She set her hand on his arm. He stared down at it, taking in the bandages.

Damn. She wasn’t fine at all. She’d been hurt.

“Thank you for saving me.” His gaze jerked up to meet hers. He swallowed painfully. She looked fragile and wan. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have the right.