12-Alarm Cowboys (30 page)

“Well, what?”

“Are you crazy or stupid?”

Georgie cocked her fists on her hips and widened her stance, hoping she looked intimidating. Sometimes that worked with her patients. Not with this guy.

“I’m neither, thankyouverymuch. I just got into town. I didn’t know about the burn ban. Sorry. It wasn’t part of the orientation to my house.” She waved her hand toward the white clapperboard house, as if he wouldn’t know which house she was talking about. “Besides, no real harm done. I’m sure I could have put it out with a garden hose.”

The man was a good six inches taller than she, and he took advantage of that stature to lean over her. “You know how a big fire gets started? With a small one. Yours would have spread fast if someone hadn’t seen the smoke rising and contacted us. And ignorance of the ban is no excuse. Any person with a modicum of intelligence would have noticed the parched grass and dying trees around them. Get some glasses, lady, if you can’t see that.”

Ire rumbled in her gut. Standing on her tiptoes, she poked her finger into his chest, which was akin to poking the butcher block countertop in the kitchen. Dadgum near broke her finger. “I’m not stupid. And I’m not blind. And I’m sorry.” She dropped down off her toes. “Thank you for showing up. Am I going to get a fine?”

The corners of his mouth twitched as though he might smile, but the movement went no further. “That’ll be up to Sheriff Singer, but he’s a good guy. He might go easy on you if you explain.” His sexy chestnut eyes squinted into a serious expression. “No matter where you live,
always
check with the fire department before you burn.”

She stepped back and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

That did produce a tiny smile. The man turned on his boot heel and headed back to the truck. With engines growling, all six vehicles roared back down her drive to the highway. There, they went in separate directions.

She’d never experienced a volunteer fire department response. Interesting would be one word to describe it.

And the head of the response? He’d be best described as intriguing.

*

Tanner Marshall removed
his turnout pants and hung them in the back of his truck, along with the coat he’d already stowed. After tossing his helmet on the floorboard, he shut the rear door.

“Glad you were here, Tanner,” Marcie Townsend said. “With the Chief in Virginia at that conference, we’re a little short-handed in the leadership department.”

Tanner grinned at Marcie. Fifty years old with blonde hair and the body of a twenty-year-old model, Marcie had been the heart and soul of the Whispering Springs South Volunteer Fire Department for over thirty years. “Marcie, honey, don’t kid a kidder. Sam may have the title of chief, but you run this place.”

“I know, but don’t let Sam hear that. He’s hard enough to live with as it is.”

Tanner laughed. Sam and Marcie had been married since high school. Their seven kids were now grown and had joined the volunteer department as soon as each had hit eighteen. Those seven were now producing the next generation of volunteer firefighters, the oldest of whom was about five, he guessed.

“Must not have been much of a fire. Y’all got back fast enough.”

“Nah. Not too bad but it was definitely on its way when we got there. Damn place butts right up to my family’s. Lucky for us that Zack was actually out working our cattle this morning instead of being on another ranch.”

“How is your brother?”

“Mean and feisty.”

Marcie laughed. “He’s young. Give him time.”

“I will but it’s hard. You know Dad and Mom left last week for her dream vacation?”

“Of course I know. Your mom drove the RV by here so I could see their home-away-from-home. You think they’ll really be gone for six months?”

Tanner ran his fingers through his damp hair, the sweat making his scalp itch. “No clue. That’s what they said, but we’ll see.”

“Your mom had no qualms about leaving you in charge. You’ll do fine with the ranch.”

“Ah, hell, woman. It’s not the ranch I’ll have trouble with. It’s the twins. I’m sure they’ll drive me to drinking before the year is out.”

Tanner had three younger siblings. At twenty-five, Zack was the closest in age, even though there was a nine year difference. The twins, Dillon and Deborah, were in their final year of high school and, in his opinion, the term “senioritis” had been invented for them. Both of them were too smart for their own good.

“Well, call me if you need anything,” Marcie said as she patted his head. Of course she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his head. “I’ve raised one or two or seven high school seniors.”

Tanner bent down and kissed her cheek. “Don’t think I won’t.”

He turned to walk away when Marcie called after him, “You want me to notify Sheriff Singer to drop by and have a talk with today’s firebug?”

He stopped, his back to the volunteer fire department’s office manager slash secretary. In his mind he saw riotous red curls framing a porcelain face with an upturn at the tip of the nose and vibrant jade-green eyes. Full pouty lips that had tightened into a frown, and then just as quickly, released into a smile formed by full pouty lips that just seemed to beg to be kissed.

Smiling to himself, he didn’t turn around to answer Marcie. The woman had a radar for picking up the most subtle of vibes.

“No. I don’t think so. I don’t think it’ll happen again.”

“But you’ll go by and talk with her yourself?”

Busted
.

“I never said the fire was started by a woman.” This time he did look over his shoulder.

Marcie wore a you-can’t-fool-me-grin. She arched an eyebrow. “Seven sons, Tanner. I always know.”

He laughed and, shaking his head, walked away.

*

Tanner parked his
truck near the barn and climbed out. The stalls needed to be picked and troughs rinsed out and filled with fresh water. A horse whinnied to him when he entered.

“Hey girl. Be there in a minute.”

A black head popped over the stall gate. She gave a loud snort in his direction.

“You poor, poor momma. Is junior kicking you today?”

He made his way down to Jolene’s stall. The pregnant mare butted her head against his shoulder. He scratched behind her ears, her favorite spot.

“I know. It’s hard being a woman.”

As though agreeing with his sentiment, she nodded her head and then lowered it for more stroking. The pregnancy had gone well so far. Not that he would admit this to anyone, but dealing with a pregnant four-year-old mare made him nervous, especially given Jolene’s dam history.

Heaven help him if he ever had to deal with a pregnant woman!

“Get the fire out?”

Tanner glanced toward the barn’s opening. “Yup. Thanks for the shout.”

Zack walked down the barn aisle to give Jolene a few strokes. “I knew when I saw the smoke from the old Perrone place that you needed to check it out. What happened?”

“A ditz with a passion for burning trash.”

Zack rolled his eyes. “What a lamebrain.”

“You said it.” Tanner nuzzled his forehead against Jolene’s face. “How do you think she’s doing?”

“Jolene? Good, as far as I can tell. What’d Doc Mabee say the last time he was here?”

“That she was the picture of health, but it still makes me nervous.”

“Well, she doesn’t have much longer.”

“Yeah and I can’t believe Mabee will be gone for the delivery.”

“You met the new vet yet?”

“Nope. Mabee said he’d bring Dr. Greyson around to meet everyone before he leaves.”

“Greyson got a first name?”

“George, I think.” Tanner shook his head. “I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure that’s what Mabee called him.”

“Mabee say anything about the guy?”

“Only that Dr. Greyson was an excellent vet and we’d probably not want him to come home from Australia.”

Zack chuckled and then wrinkled his nose. “You smell like smoke.”

“I know. I thought I’d muck the stalls and then take a shower.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Zack said with a laugh. “Why don’t I move her highness outside for some fresh air while you freshen her palace?”

Tanner chuckled. “I think Jolene would like that.”

Mucking was one of those chores he didn’t enjoy but it was a reality of ranch life. At thirty-four, he needed to make up his mind about his future. Flying Eagle Cattle Company belonged to his parents, and sure, he could stay here and work with them, but was that what he wanted? To stay under the successful wing of his parents?

Or was it time for him to discover his own path? And if it was, where did he start?

He loved the ranch work. Loved the outdoors. Loved being on horseback. Even loved the smell of fresh hay.

But he also loved the years he’d spent in the Lexington City Fire Department in Lexington, Kentucky. With his experience and education, he’d been approached by the Whispering Springs City Fire Department about joining them on a full-time basis. But he’d come home a couple of years ago to help his parents with their growing cattle business, not take up firefighting again. Joining the city fire department would put him too far away from Flying Eagle to be much help on a daily basis.

He dumped a load of horse manure into the wheelbarrow as he continued to think. The pressure to make long range plans weighed him down. He was a man who liked to know where he was going, when he was going and with whom.

He didn’t have to make a life plan today. Until his parents return, he was stuck here, not that he minded all that much. It gave him time to study his options and maybe make a plan for the future.

One aspect of his future remained hazy…the wife component. He hadn’t had a long term girlfriend since his mid-twenties. Frankly, lately he had gotten bored with the whole dating scene. He was ready to settle down with one woman. Build a life. Have kids, dogs, a white picket fence. The whole shebang.

The image of a smiling petite, red-headed firebug with flashing green eyes poking him in his chest flashed into his mind.

He shook his head. Nope. Anyone but her.

‡

S
even a.m. The
twins were running behind schedule, as usual. Tanner cupped his hand around his mouth. “Move it, guys. You’re going to be late for school.”

“I’m coming,” Deborah yelled down the stairs. “I can’t find my red boots. Do you know where they are?”

“In my room,” Dillon shouted. “You left them here last night when we were doing homework.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks.”

Tanner shook his head and went back to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Wrangling teenagers had to be worse than wrangling cats. If nothing else, this experience was making him a true believer in birth control.

Birth control. Damn. Did he need to talk to the twins about that, or had his parents already covered the subject with them? He groaned and ran a hand down his face. He was too young to feel this old.

Maybe he needed to rethink his whole setting down with a wife and kids scenario.

Heavy pounding on the stairs announced the twins’ arrival seconds before they hit the kitchen like a couple of category five tornados, swiping food off the table, grabbing books off the counter and running out the door with quick waves and a “See ya this afternoon.” The door slammed behind them and a deafening quiet fell over the house.