12-Alarm Cowboys (74 page)

Tanner twisted to see her blink, and her panicked expression turned soft.

“Yes. I, ah, followed Tanner over.”

She was the only one to…arrive.

Although he still needed a moment, he found moving was painful, but necessary. “I talked her into making us breakfast,” he said, handing her a frying pan, then swallowed back a snicker at her murderous gaze.

He knew she wanted to hit him with it.

Barry sat down at the table and smiled. “Breakfast sounds great. Do you know how to make a western omelet? I haven’t had one in ages.”

“Three western omelets coming right up,” she said, opening the fridge and rummaging inside, her face still flushed from their
cooking
.

Fifteen minutes later, she set three dishes on the table next to the coffee and orange juice he’d poured. The omelets smelled incredible. Almost as incredible as the cook.

“I’m glad you’re here, Gwen,” Barry said after they’d put a dent into their breakfast. “Maybe you can help me talk some sense into Tanner.”

She snorted and glanced sideways at him, the first time she’d held his gaze for longer than a second since they’d been interrupted at the counter.

“Doubtful.”

“Hah!” Barry laughed. “She’s got your number, boy.”

God, he missed the sound. He sat still a second and took in the merriment. It was so great to see him relaxed and happy in his own skin. That was so damn rare lately.

“What do you need help with?” Gwen asked, reaching for her coffee.

The old man sat back in his chair and cocked his head. “I want you to explain to Tanner that it’s a good idea if I went into a home.”

The delicious food in his mouth suddenly tasted like sawdust. Swallowing it down with a mouthful of juice, he shook his head. “Ah, hell, Barry. Not that again.”

“Yes, that again. And we’ll keep going through it until you see I’m right.”

“I’m not putting you in a home.”

“You’re right.
You’re
not.
I’m
putting myself in one. I just need you to drive me to a lawyer to get my affairs in order, then take me to the home Doctor Turner told you about. And before you have a bird, I asked him to recommend one before he left.” Barry glanced at Gwen. “Tell him I’m right.”

Her gaze bounced between them, and he could tell she wanted to say something, but she set her coffee down, pushed her chair back, and stood. “I think you both have things to discuss and it’s best that I go.”

She grabbed her purse from the counter and walked out the door.

“Why don’t you listen to reason?” Barry shook his head. “I read up on this disease. I’m running out of time. It’s best I settle into one of those facilities while I still have some brainpower left.”

His pulse pounded loud in his ears. “There’s no need. I’ll take care of you.”

“Don’t you get it, Tanner?” Barry jerked forward, moving the table with his chest. “You’re like a son to me. I don’t want to be a damn burden, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

“I won’t let you stay with a bunch of strangers.”

His mentor sat back in his seat and sighed. “They’ll only be strangers in the beginning. Besides, after a while…you’re going to be a stranger to me, too.”

Tanner sucked in a breath. The truth of that statement hit him hard. God, it hurt. He blinked away the burning from his eyes.

“Don’t you see? I’m trying to save you from that pain.”

He nodded and swallowed past his dry throat. “I know. But I’ll deal with it.”

Barry chuckled. “You’re a stubborn son of a bitch. Hope Gwen knows what she’s getting into.”

Happy for the subject change, he nodded. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to chase her away.”

A smile tugged his lips. “I’m pretty sure Gwen does what she wants to do. And what she wanted was to give us privacy.”

Barry pointed at him with his fork. “I like her, and I can tell you do, too.”

He didn’t reply, mainly because the man was right. He did like Gwen. A lot. Too damn much. And touching her proved he had no damn control where she was concerned. None whatsoever. Hell, if Barry’s interruption had been delayed a few minutes, the guy would’ve seen firsthand just how much he
liked
Gwen.

“It makes me feel good knowing you have someone like her in your life,” his mentor said. “I like the look she puts on your face.”

It was called lust. But something in the man’s eyes told him it was more. He wanted to ask, what look? But he was too much of a pansy ass, and even more terrified he’d agree with the answer.

Later that night,
Tanner stared up at the ceiling for hours, willing sleep to come. It had been a hellish day, and he was still antsy.

He wasn’t putting Barry in a home, end of story. Period. If he had to sell his place and move in with the man, he would. Hell, he expected to do that by summer’s end. He wasn’t trying to be heartless; he understood it was tough on Barry. If the shoe was on the other foot, he knew he’d be as adamant as the old man. Relying on others, after decades of leading, and doing, and supervising, would be a daily hell. But, the shoe wasn’t on his foot.

So, he wasn’t putting Barry in a home.

They’d all get through it. There was no other option. More than five hundred thousand people were diagnosed with the disease every year. Others managed. He and Barry would be no different. Gwen and her friend had gotten through it.

Gwen…

A smile tugged at his lips, and he could feel some of the tension leave his body as his thoughts turned to the temporary cook. Every time he saw the woman, she did something to surprise him…in a good way.

She wasn’t the shallow, former supermodel the tabloid’s made her out to be. Once you looked beyond the stunning good looks and pushed past her barriers, if you were lucky enough, you caught a glimpse of the kind heart she buried deep inside. He had. Gwen Gablonski was a good girl turned bad, turned good again. She pulled herself out of a dark, destructive pit most people never recovered from, and yet, she had, and didn’t realize how strong she actually was, or how important an impact she made on others’ lives. He saw it daily, from a little selfless act like a smile or wave to the senior citizens playing checkers in the park when she walked past on her way to work, to the lunch she dropped off at Mrs. Avery’s, a cat-loving retired school teacher, to pretending to be the man’s dead daughter, instead of walking away as most would do.

Yes, there was more to that woman than met the eye, and for the first time in his life, he actually wanted to take the time to look and discover. And if the timing didn’t suck, he probably would, too. But, right now, Barry needed all his attention. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by Gwen, no matter how much he wanted to be distracted. No matter how hard she made him with just one look. No matter how incredible she felt and tasted.

Barry was his main concern.

The sound of first tones dropping, followed by beeping on his pager broke the silence of the night. When dispatch called his department for a structure fire, he sprang from the bed and was donning his turnout gear as the address for the fire was announced.

He stilled, heart dropping to his boots.

Gwen’s cottage.

‡

T
anner called county
to respond, then lit out of the house, heart jumping to his throat as he tried to get Gwen on the phone. No answer.

Fuck.

He started his pickup, flicked on the red light and tore down the drive, straining his ears to hear updates on the radio from anyone who managed to get on scene.

The image of the beauty standing by the fridge, smiling at him that morning, replayed in his head.

Please, God, let her be okay.

He made it into town in record time, and was one of the first to arrive. His heart, still lodged in his throat, stopped beating as he came to a screeching halt in the Tex Pub parking lot to keep the road clear for apparatus.

Flames shot from the windows and licked the roof on all visible sides.
Ah hell
. It was a fully engulfed. He hoped to God Gwen wasn’t still inside as he ran to meet the engine pulling up to the nearby hydrant.

“All right. Pull the two and a half and hit the house,” he told the men. Fighting the urge to rush straight inside, he called county for an assist, a paramedic, and a tanker.

“Tanner!”

He twisted around to find Caitlin waving at him from a bench across the side street as she draped an arm around a soot-covered…
Gwen.

Thank God.

Dressed in nothing but a nightshirt, the woman sat hunched and in a daze with her purse strapped across her body. Hair, half in and half out of her ponytail, clung to her dirty face and chest.
God
, she never looked so good. Air entered his lungs for what felt like the first time since the first tones had dropped.
She
wasn’t inside that fiery hell. She was safe.

He jumped into action, racing back to his truck to grab the jacket he kept behind the seat, then brought it to Gwen.

“You okay?” He placed the coat around the bedraggled woman, then knelt in front of her and squeezed her hands. Despite the humidity and heat surrounding them, they were as cold as a dish of Crowley’s ice cream.

“Yeah,” she croaked, then coughed.

He twisted around and motioned for the paramedics that had just arrived. “Can I get some oxygen over here?”

Stepping out of the way to let them do their job, he remembered he had one of his own to do.
Damn
. For the first time ever, he’d neglected his duty.

“I saw the flames from my apartment above the Pub and called 911,” Caitlin informed as she stood to let the men work. “By the time I got over here, Gwen was crawling out of her bedroom window.”

Fighting the urge to push everyone aside so he could hold the bemused woman, he forced his feet to step off the curb. “Okay. Thanks.” One last glance at Gwen to reassure himself she was okay and in good hands, then he turned around and got to work.

He never thought of himself as brave. In the guard, he did what he had to overseas, and used the same ethics when it came to fighting fires at home. It was a job, with certain risks, tasks, and duties to perform. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit he loved the excitement and adrenaline rush of a call, but safety always came first. As the assistant fire chief, he had to look out for everyone’s safety, not just his own.

Since this wasn’t a rescue mission, and the damage was too extensive to save the structure, he wasn’t sending anyone inside. Their job was to make sure the fire didn’t spread to the nearby cottages. As more help arrived, he positioned lines around the house and hit it from all sides. The heat was so intense, he could feel it through the layers of his protective clothing. That, coupled with the humidity, made for one hot-as-hell night.

Over the roar and crackle of fire, a distinct cracking sound could be heard, and a second later, the roof caved in. Debris shot into the smoke-filled air before settling back down into the inferno.

The gathering crowd gasped, and he silently concurred. It was a damn shame to see the destruction of the quaint house, especially since he knew the renter and the fact all of her belongings were disintegrating before their eyes.

But, he needed to distance himself in order to perform his job with the utmost proficiency. Gwen was safe. They were containing the fire, and the sheriff had arrived and was keeping the onlookers at bay.

Jordan’s appearance also brought Tanner the peace he needed to push aside his personal involvement. She would make sure Gwen was taken care of and had a place to stay. There was no need for him to worry about the woman who crawled out a window in her nightshirt with fire licking at her heels.

Right now, his duty was to his team. Not a lover from his past…and sort of present. Keeping his team safe and putting out the fire were the only things that mattered.

Except, that wasn’t true. That was pure bullshit. Somehow, between that night in the Poconos and tonight’s call, things had changed.

Big time.

Gwen sat at
Caitlin’s kitchen table the next morning, cupping a mug of coffee, after just getting out of her second, long, hot shower in an attempt to get warm. Heat seeped into her palms, but she was still cold. The shaking had subsided a few hours ago, but she couldn’t shake the chill. Standing under a hot shower had helped. A little. It had warmed her skin, but for some reason, she was still cold on the inside. Logic told her it was shock and would wear off, so she tried to ignore it by reassuring everyone she was fine.

She’d already Skyped with her sister, father, and brother on Caitlin’s laptop an hour ago. Lea’s fiancé, Ben, and his sixth sense had struck again. The man had always had premonitions. He’d foreseen her mother’s death, and apparently last night’s fire. But, she’d reassured them all she was good, and they were appeased enough to let her go.

Now, she was eating and making small talk with her friend, trying to get warm.

“That dress looks a lot nicer on you than it ever did on me,” Caitlin said, sinking a fork into a slice of banana nut bread Gwen had whipped up before dawn.