Hot in the Saddle (Heroes in the Saddle Book 1)

Hot in the Saddle

Heroes in the Saddle, Book 1

By Randi Alexander

“HOT
IN THE SADDLE”
Copyright © 2015 Randi Alexander
*~*~*~*
Edited by E Felder
*~*~*~*

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
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system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be
printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the web -without permission in writing
from the author.

Chapter One

Treven Arnett pulled his white straw cowboy hat down tighter
on his head as a breeze blew across the infield of Wild Oak Speedway. The roar
of the super stock cars’ engines surrounded him as drivers jockeyed for the
lead in the race’s final laps. Dirt track racing had become his favorite live
sport now that this part of Texas had installed its very own oval.

He’d volunteered to serve on the firefighting crew today,
and had put in his hours during the morning race. Despite all the work he
needed to get done at his ranch, here he sat, sipping a beer with another
off-duty firefighter, watching the end of the race.

“One more, buddy?” Treven’s friend Clint reached into his
cooler and pulled out a can of brew, water dripping from both the beer and
Clint’s hand.

Treven could almost taste another ice cold pilsner slipping
down his throat, but he shook his head. He needed to get home and get some work
done. “Thanks, but I should get moving. The horses don’t breed themselves.”

Clint laughed as he opened the beer then ran his wet fingers
through his short blond hair. “Not in this day and age, they don’t.”

The dozen thoroughbreds Treven owned and/or stabled on his
property three miles away kept him busy and in property-tax and vet-bill money,
but he had to work his ass off twelve to sixteen hours a day, most days.

“Ms. Delta Pennington.” The announcer’s voice blared from
the speakers. “Our southern belle in the number thirteen car has taken third
place from Randy Vinter, and is moving up fast to challenge Beau Trudeaux for
second.”

Treven had gotten a peek at the lovely Ms. Delta as she’d
inspected her car before the race. With her sunglasses on, he couldn’t see her
trademark eyes, but her brown hair touched her shoulders in thick layers, and
those sexy bangs blew around her forehead. She’d looked at him for long
moments, nodded, then moved on.

Delta being the first woman to compete on this new track,
Treven hoped she’d take first, or at least one of the top positions. He liked
that she went after her passion in a male-centered world like stock car racing.

Treven stood. “I’m gonna make my way out.” He needed to
cross the oval to get to the parking lot where emergency responders left their
vehicles. “See you next weekend.”

“Next weekend, not before.” Clint responded, his blue eyes
going serious.

Treven got moving, his boots kicking up dust as he strode
across the newly-planted grass. The Wild Oak volunteer firefighters kept good
karma coming their way by never admitting there might be another chance to see
each other—like a fire at a local home or business.

The race cars circled the track for the second-from-last
lap. As he walked, Treven rolled down the sleeves on his blue denim shirt and
buttoned them, figuring he’d stop and pick up a few dozen bales of hay on his
way home.

Nearing the oval, he slowed and waited, not stupid enough to
cross the track until the race was over.

“Oh, lordy, look at that!” The announcer’s voice squeaked.

Treven swiveled his head as a car spun into the infield
about fifty yards from him. He prepared to bolt one way or the other, but the
dark blue car with yellow lettering slid to a stop.

Then exploded.

“Fuck!” He ran toward it as flames shot out the side
windows.

Screams came from the stands and the infield.

“Aw, folks.” The announcer shouted. “That’s Delta Pennington’s
car.”

Sirens blared and in his peripheral vision, Treven saw
people running toward him, but no one was near enough to help.

He was on his own.

He threw off his hat as he skidded around the front of the
vehicle, ran to the driver’s window, and heard choking coming from inside.

She was still alive, but engulfed in flames.

He didn’t have gloves with him, not the ones he’d been
wearing earlier when he was on duty, nor the ones he’d be using for hay later.
Nothing to cover his bare hands or his face.

Taking a deep breath, he removed the net from the window and
reached inside the car anyway.

Hot, blistering flames—his hands would be a mess, but he
could do this.

Heat licked at his face, singeing his skin as his fingers
found the five-point harness release and pushed.

Nothing. Had it melted shut?

No, wait, this was a latch variety. He felt for the piece of
webbing that would release it, tugged on it…

A click sounded and she was free.

Treven grabbed the shoulders of her fire suit and pulled.
She was lighter than he’d imagined. At just a few inches shorter than his
five-foot ten inches, she’d been a strong-looking woman when he’d seen her
earlier in her yellow and blue fire suit. The one that curved over her nice
behind.

He pulled his thoughts back from wherever the hell they’d
just gone and focused on tugging her out the window, into his arms, and keeping
her limp body from hitting the ground.

Her helmet banged against his cheek as he pulled her higher
against his chest, spun, and ran as fast as he could. That gas tank could go
any second. Why hadn’t it already? And why was the interior of the car on fire
when the tank hadn’t gone up? And why hadn’t he at least paused before he’d
rushed in to save her to consider that he could be blown to his eternal reward?

The firetruck reached the car, and half the firefighters
that jumped off came running his way with their med bags.

Treven sank to the ground, his knees shaking, his breath
pumping as he eased Ms. Delta onto the seedling grass of the infield.

With a jerk, her body came to life. She coughed and hauled
off her helmet, gasping in air and hacking it back out. “What…” More coughing
as she removed her fireproof hood. “What happened?”

She looked up at Treven.

What they said was true. She had one green eye and one blue
eye. “You’re safe.” He reached to take her pulse, but didn’t recognize the red,
blistered skin on his… Then the pain hit.

****

Delta had seen this cowboy earlier, walking through the
pits. Those dark green eyes, auburn hair, spectacular jawline, and muscled body.
Now, his eyes widened in his smudged face, then his lids flickered and a
grimace distorted his mouth.

“What is it?” She looked down at her fire suit, then caught
sight of his hands. Delta gasped and sat up, her world spinning for a second,
then settled as three men surrounded them.

“Ma’am, lay back.” One guy touched her.

“No, I’m fine.” She looked at the blond man with his hand on
her shoulder. Not in uniform, but carrying a red medic bag, he had to be a
firefighter. The man’s pale blue eyes shifted and a look of horror crossed his
face as he spotted the cowboy’s hands.

How had he gotten so badly burned? “Please help him.” Delta
held her palms a few inches under the cowboy’s burned, shaking hands. “I don’t
know what to do to help him.”

Loud shouts came from behind her and she looked back as
firefighters in full gear shot white propellant from nozzles attached to
canisters at flames blazing from the inside of her car. “Oh.” Everything made
sense now. She gazed at the cowboy’s hands.

This man had saved her life.

“Aw shit, Treven.” The blue-eyed, white-haired man grasped
the cowboy’s elbow and moved his arm to look at the damage on the other side.
“We need to get you to the hospital. Right now.”

“I can drive him.” Delta scrambled to her knees just as the
firefighter gestured for the ambulance to pull closer. “Oh.” Her brain wasn’t
functioning at full speed.

The cowboy looked at her, and gave a half smile. “No
offense, ma’am, but I’ve seen you drive. I’ll ride in the ambulance, if it’s
all the same to you.”

She would laugh if the pain in his eyes wasn’t so terrible
to witness. The white-haired fireman helped the cowboy—Treven?—stand.

The crowd went wild. “Someone bring me the name of that
hero,” the announcer called. “The man who saved Delta Pennington’s life.”

Another firefighter, this one dark-skinned with black hair
and eyes, crouched next to her. “If you’d lie down, ma’am, we’ll check for—”

“No.” Something made her need to stay with the cowboy. “I
should go with Treven.” She struggled to get to her feet, but ended up coughing
so hard, she grew dizzy and sank down again.

The fireman helped her sit, then pulled out a tank of oxygen
and gave her the face mask to hold over her mouth and nose. “He’ll be here for
a bit.” As he took her pulse, he looked from one of her eyes to the other.
“We’ll get you over there and you can ride to the hospital with him. You should
be checked.”

Taking stock of herself, Delta figured he was right. Her
ears rang like she’d stood in front of rock concert speakers for six hours, her
lungs burned with each breath, and her throat felt like it’d been coated with
sandpaper. Even her nostrils hurt.

“I’m fine, but I will ride in the ambulance with him.”
Taking a few deep breaths of pure oxygen, she struggled to her feet.

He assisted her, but held her arm. “You should—”

She pressed the canister into his hands and he tottered back
a bit as she stumbled into him in her rush to get to the cowboy.

“Ma’am, wait.”

Ignoring him, she hustled to the ambulance. The white-haired
firefighter—who must be a paramedic—hovered over the cowboy who half-sat,
half-laid on the gurney inside, and another older man took notes on a
clipboard. They’d inserted an IV into Treven’s arm and the cowboy’s eyes were
pinched shut.

She stepped up to pull herself inside, and the white-haired
paramedic held out a big hand. “Hang on. Let us work here. Have a seat on the
bumper for a minute.”

“I’m riding with him.” She tried to make her voice
commanding.

Treven’s eyes opened, then widened when he saw her. “You
shouldn’t be walking around. You were unconscious for a time.”

White-hair’s blue gaze shot to hers. “She was?” He gestured
to his partner. “Help her in, Buzz. Give her a non-rebreather.”

The older man helped Delta climb in and sat her on the
bench. He handed her a clear plastic mask on a hose. She unzipped her fire suit
and peeled it off her arms. “What can I do to help?”

“Stay out of the way for now.” White-hair set one of
Treven’s hands on some kind of plastic sheet-like thing as the older man left
the ambulance, closed the doors, and they got rolling.

“Ms. Pennington, I don’t think we’ve been properly
introduced.” Treven gave her a sideways grin.

Her heart gave an extra thump at the sweet cowboy manners,
despite what had to be a lot of pain for him. Or had they added pain meds to
his IV?

“Please call me Delta.” She forced a smile. “And you’re
Treven…?”

The paramedic sighed. “Treven Arnett, meet Delta
Pennington.” He gave her a look. “And I’m Clint Black and prefer no jokes about
the famous name, please.”

“Not much for bedside manners, is he.” Treven winked at her.

Clint shook his head. “Not much for common sense, Treven.
Diving head-first into a burning car.” He rechecked the IV.

Delta had to agree, it’d taken no thought, just bravery and
adrenaline for Treven to do what he’d done. “I have to go with the hero
theory.” She coughed a few times, then smiled at Treven. “Especially since I
was the recipient of…”

Treven’s eyes rolled back and his head dropped to the side.
Delta jumped up to grasp his forearm to keep his hand from hitting the rail,
but Clint was already there.

“Thanks, ma’am.” The paramedic adjusted Treven so his
scorched hand sat on a sterile surface. “Now please, sit down.” He looked back
and forth between her eyes. “You’ve had a trauma, and I don’t need you passing
out, too.

“Not. Passed. Out.” Treven’s eyes opened. “Just wanted to be
able to say that Miss Delta Pennington held my…arm?” He let out a sound that
could have been a laugh. “And you went and spoiled it, buddy.”

Delta couldn’t believe how tough this cowboy was.

“Oxygen.” The paramedic pointed to the mask she’d set next
to her on the bench. “Take some good deep breaths.” He got busy fitting one on
Treven’s face.

“Thanks, Clint.” Treven’s gaze met hers as the two of them
sucked in oxygen.

The sweet air helped with the scratch in her throat and the
burn in her lungs. And just looking at her hero made her chest flutter with
gratitude. He’d risked so much, even though he’d known the pain he’d suffer for
it. This man was someone she would never forget, and wanted to get to know.

After a few seconds, she held her mask to the side. “This
must be a small town. Everyone knows everyone.”

Clint gestured toward her mask, and she immediately put it
back in place. “Treven here, he’s my buddy in the town’s volunteer fire
department.”

Treven looked like he was going to fade out again. She
pulled her mask away. “That’s what made you risk your life for me. You’re a
firefighter.” The knowledge that it was his job didn’t diminish her
appreciation one bit.

Shaking his head, Treven turned his green gaze on her.
“Partially, ma’am, but there’s another reason. Either way, I’m glad I got the
chance to help.”

****

An hour and a half later, Delta sat on the edge of the
emergency room bed swinging her cowgirl boots like she would hit the ground
running if she could. She wanted to be anywhere but here, but the doctor was
slow in granting her a release. Her pit crew chief, Kellan Brody, sat on a
chair in the corner, mumbling under his breath.

He’d come to the hospital with her Pennington Racing branded
duffle containing her clothes and had someone drive her car in for her, but
he’d also brought his suspicious mind, and that was racing in high gear. She’d
told him what she could remember from the accident, but her mind was somewhere
else. She wanted to go to Treven and see how he was doing.

“You know, Delta, it never should have gone down like that.
How the hell did the steering quit just when a mysterious fire burst out?” The
older man ran a hand over his mostly-bald head. “Answer me that.”