by Elle James
“Me, too,” Bree said and rose carefully to stand beside her mother. She couldn’t quite stand straight yet because the motion pulled at the stitches in her side. “The doctor said I couldn’t lift more than ten pounds for two weeks, but he didn’t say I couldn’t lift a glass of lemonade.”
Mrs. McKinnon clucked her tongue. “How am I supposed to be a good hostess if my guests won’t let me do for them?”
“We don’t want to be a bother,” Bree said.
“Oh, pooh,” Angus’s mother said. “I need to be bothered. It keeps me from thinking about my James.”
Bree’s mother hugged the woman. “You must be beside yourself. Have you heard anything from the sheriff?”
Mrs. McKinnon shook her head and stared out at the Crazy Mountains. “Not since they brought Jeff Kurtz down from the mountain. They’re still trying to figure out who got the burner phone inside the prison to Reed. They think the person who got him the phone is the one who killed Reed. He might also know what happened to James. They just have to find him.”
“In the meantime, we need to get our lives together and move back to Wolf Creek.” Bree’s mother hugged Mrs. McKinnon again. “You’ve been wonderful to us. I can never begin to repay your kindness.”
“There’s no need. You would have done the same for us.” Angus’s mother looked out to the pasture. “There’s the crew. I’d better get supper on the table.”
“I’ll help,” Karen said and followed Hannah into the house.
Bree leaned against the porch rail and watched as the McKinnon brothers, Parker, Molly and Ray rode into the barnyard and disappeared into the barn.
Several minutes later, Angus was the first one out, heading her way at a trot.
He took the steps up the porch two at a time and eased her into his arms. “Should you be standing?”
“I’m fine. The doctor didn’t put a limit on my standing, just on my weight-lifting.”
“Still, I’d feel better if you weren’t leaning against the rail. You might fall over.”
She laughed. “Are you going to hover this much when I’m pregnant. Because, if so, I might have to go on a nine-month vacation away from you to keep from going crazy.”
“You’re not going anywhere without me. You can go on vacation, but I’m coming with you.” He bent to kiss her full on the lips “At least your lips weren’t injured. I can kiss you as much as I like.”
“Mmm. As long as you let me breathe occasionally.”
When he finally let her have that breath, she smiled and leaned her cheek against his chest.
“The rain and snowmelt from the past few days did the trick to clean the water at Wolf Creek. We had it tested, and it’s been proclaimed safe for human and animal consumption.”
Bree sighed. “I guess that means Mom, Ray and I can move back home.”
“If your mother and Ray want to go home, that’s fine. But I want you to stay, or I can go with you.” He glanced at his brothers and sister crossing the yard toward them. “At least, until they return to active duty.” His brow furrowed. “I need to be here once they’re gone. With my father missing, I can’t leave my mother and sister to manage this big a ranch on their own.”
Bree frowned. “What about you? Aren’t you going back to your unit?”
He shook his head. “I put my paperwork in to separate from the service before I left. I’m on terminal leave. I will be officially out of the Army in less than thirty days.”
“Won’t you miss it?” She leaned into his arms, loving the feel of his strength beneath her hands and couldn’t wait until they were cleared by the doctor to make love again.
“I’ll miss being a part of Delta Force, but I really think I’m needed on Iron Horse Ranch. I’ve served my country. It’s time to be here for my family and for you.”
Bree leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. “You know I’d follow you anywhere, but I’m glad you’re staying here in Montana. It’s home. And as long as you’re here, there’s no place I’d rather be.”
“Then there’s only one thing left for me to do.” Angus stepped back from Bree and bent down on one knee. He pulled a small square box from his pocket and held it out to her. “Bree Lansing, you are the most beautiful woman in the world to me. I don’t deserve you, but you would make me the happiest man alive if you’d agree to be my wife. Will you marry me?”
Bree’s heart swelled in her chest, and tears filled her eyes. “Angus McKinnon, nothing would make me happier. Yes!”
He stood and pulled her gently into his arms.
Applause erupted from the ground below the porch. The back door opened, and Mrs. McKinnon poked her head out. “Did I miss it? Did he ask her?”
Molly laughed. “He did.”
“Did she say yes?” Mrs. McKinnon asked, wringing her hands.
Bree answered, “Yes!” She laughed and flung her arms around him. “This moment is everything I ever dreamed it would be.”
He smiled down at her. “So, it was worth the wait?”
“Yes.” She kissed his chin, his cheek then his lips. “But not a minute more, Angus McKinnon. No long engagement for me.”
He grinned. “Courthouse tomorrow?”
His mother cleared her throat.
Bree’s mother did the same.
“Guess we’ll have to give them a wedding,” he whispered.
Hellfire, Texas
Hellfire Series Book #1
Elle James
New York Times Bestselling Author
Chapter 1
The hot July sun beat down on the asphalt road. Shimmering heat waves rose like mirages as Becket Grayson drove the twenty miles home to Coyote Creek Ranch outside of Hellfire, Texas. Wearing only a sweat-damp T-shirt and the fire retardant pants and boots of a firefighter, he couldn’t wait to get home, strip, and dive into the pool. Although he’d have to hose down before he clouded the water with the thick layer of soot covering his body from head to toe.
The Hellfire Volunteer Firefighter Association met the first Saturday of every month for training in firefighting, rescues, and first responder care. Today had been particularly grueling in the late summer swelter. Old Lady Mersen graciously donated her dilapidated barn for structural fire training and rescue.
All thirty volunteers had been on hand to participate. Though hot, the training couldn’t have gone better. Each volunteer got a real taste of how fast an old barn would go up in flames, and just how much time they had to rescue any humans or animals inside. Some had the opportunity to exercise the use of SCBA, self-contained breathing apparatus, the masks and oxygen tanks that allowed them to enter smoke-filled buildings, limiting exposure and damage to their lungs. Other volunteers manned the fire engine and tanker truck, shuttling water from a nearby pond to the portable tank deployed on the ground. They unloaded a total of five tanks onto the barn fire before it was completely extinguished. With only one tanker truck, the shuttle operation slowed their ability to put out the fire, as the blaze rebuilt each time they ran out of water in the holding pool. They needed at least two tanker trucks in operation to keep the water flowing. As small as the Hellfire community was, the first engine and tanker truck would never have happened without generous donations from everyone in the district and a government grant. But, they had an engine that could carry a thousand, and a tanker capable of thirty-five hundred gallons. Forty-five hundred gallons was better than nothing.
Hot, tired, and satisfied with what he’d learned about combating fire without the advantages of a city fire hydrant and unlimited water supply, Becket had learned one thing that day. Firefighting involved a lot more than he’d ever imagined. As the Fire Chief said, all fires were different, just like people were different. Experience taught you the similarities, but you had to expect the unexpected.
Two miles from his turnoff, Becket could almost taste the ice-cold beer waiting in the fridge and feel the cool water of the ranch swimming pool on his skin.
A puff of dark smoke drifted up from a stalled ve
hicle on the shoulder of the road ahead. The puff grew into a billowing cloud, rising into the air.
Becket slowed as he neared the disabled vehicle.
A black-haired woman stood in the V of the open driver’s door, attempting to push the vehicle off the road. She didn’t need to worry about getting it off the road so much as getting herself away from the smoke and fire before the gas tank ignited and blew the car to pieces.
A hundred yards away from the potential disaster, Becket slammed on his brakes, shifted into park, and jumped out of his truck. “Get away from the car!” he yelled, running toward the idiot woman. “Get away before it explodes!”
The woman shot a brief glance back at him before continuing on her mission to get the car completely off the road and into the bone-dry grass.
Becket ran up behind her, grabbed her around the middle, and hauled her away from the now-burning vehicle.
“Let go of me!” she screamed, tearing at his hands. “I have to get it off the road.”
“Damn it, lady, it’s not safe.” Not knowing when the tank would ignite, he didn’t have time to argue. Becket spun her around, threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and jogged away from the burning vehicle.
“I have to get it off the road,” she said, her voice breaking with each jolt to her gut.
“Leave it where it is. I’ll call in the fire department, they’ll have the fire out before you know it. In the meantime, that vehicle is dangerous.” He didn’t stop or put her down until he was back behind his truck.
He set her on her feet, but she darted away from him, running back toward the vehicle, her long, jet-black hair flying out behind her.
Becket lunged, grabbed her arm, and jerked her back. “Are you crazy?”
“I can’t leave it in the road,” she sobbed. “Don’t you see? He’ll find it. He’ll find me!” She tried prying his fingers free of her arm.
He wasn’t letting go.
“The fire will ignite the gas tank. Unless you want to be fried like last year’s turkey, you need to stand clear.” He held her back to his chest, forcing her to view the fire and the inherent danger.
She sagged against him, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. “I have to hide it.”
“Can I trust you to stay put?”
She nodded, her hair falling into her face.
“I’m making a call to the Hellfire Volunteer Firefighters Association.”
Before he finished talking, she was shaking her head. “No. You can’t. No one can know I’m here.”
“Why?” He settled his hands on her shoulders and was about to turn her to face him when an explosion rocked the ground.
Becket grabbed the woman around the waist.
She yelped and whimpered as Becket ducked behind the tailgate of his pickup, and waited for the debris to settle. Then he slowly rose.
Smoke and fire shot into the air. Where the car had been now was a raging inferno. Black smoke curled into the sky.
“Sweetheart, I won’t have to call 911. In the next fifteen minutes, this place will be surrounded by firefighters.”
Her head twisted left and right as she attempted to pry his hands away from her waist. “You’re hurting me.”
He released her immediately. “The sheriff will want a statement from you.”
“No. I can’t.” Again, she darted away from him. “I have to get as far away from here as possible.”
Becket snagged her arm again and whipped her around. “You can’t just leave the scene of a fire. There will be an investigation.” He stared down at her, finally getting a look at her. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t…” The young woman glanced up, eyes narrowing. She reached up a hand and rubbed some of the soot off his face. Recognition dawned and her eyes grew round. “Becket? Becket Grayson?”
He nodded. “And I know I should know you, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Her widened eyes filled with tears, and she flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, dear God. Becket!”
He held her, struggling to remember who she was.
Her body trembled, her arms like clamps around his neck.
“Hey.” Surprised by her outburst, Becket patted her back. “It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not,” she cried into his sweat-dampened shirt, further soaking it with her tears. “No, it’s not.”
His heart contracted, feeling some of the pain in her voice. “Yes, it is. But you have to start by telling me who you are.” He hugged her again, then loosened the arms around his neck and pushed her to arms’ length. “Well?”
The cheek she’d rested against his chest was black with soot, her hair wild and tangled. Familiar green eyes, red-rimmed and awash with tears, looked up at him. “You don’t remember me.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Sorry. You look awfully familiar, but I’m just not making the connection.” He smiled gently. “Enlighten me.”
“I’m Kinsey Phillips. We used to be neighbors.”
His confusion cleared, and he grinned. “Little Kinsey Phillips? The girl who used to hang out with Nash and follow us around the ranch, getting into trouble?”
Sniffling, she nodded.
Becket shook his head and ran his gaze over her from head to toe. “Look at you, all grown up.” He chuckled. “Although, you didn’t get much taller.”
She straightened to her full height. “No. Sadly, I stopped growing taller when I was thirteen.”
“Well, Little Kinsey…” He pulled her into the curve of his arm and faced the burning mess that had been her car. “What brings you back to Hellfire? Please tell me you didn’t come to have your car worked on by my brother, Rider. I’m afraid there’s no hope for it.”
She bit her lip, and the tremors of a few moments before returned. “I didn’t know where else to go. But I think I’ve made a huge mistake.”
Her low, intense tone made Becket’s fists clench, ready to take on whatever had her so scared. “Why do you say that?”
“He’ll find me and make me pay.”
“Who will find you?” Becket demanded, turning her to face him again.
She looked up at him, her bottom lip trembling. “My ex-boyfriend.”
Kinsey’s shuddered, her entire body quaking with the magnitude of what she’d done. She’d made a bid for freedom. If she didn’t distance herself from the condemning evidence, all of her efforts to escape the hell she’d lived in for the past year, would be for nothing.
Sirens sounded in the distance, shaking her out of her stupor and spurring her to action. “You can’t let them question me.” She turned toward the still-burning vehicle. “It’s bad enough this is the first place he’ll look for me.”
“Who is your boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Kinsey corrected. “Dillon Massey.”
“Name’s familiar. Is he from around here?”
Kinsey shook her head, scanning the immediate area. “No, he’s from Waco. He played football for Baylor a couple years ago, and he’s playing for the Cowboys now.”
“Massey, the quarterback?”
“Yes.” She nodded, and then grabbed Becket’s hands. “Please, you can’t let anyone know I’m here. Dillon will make them think I’m crazy, and that I need him to look out for me.” Kinsey pulled herself up straight. “I’m not. I’ve never been more lucid in my life. I had to get away.”
Becket frowned. “Why?”
She raised her blouse, exposing the bruises on her ribs. “And there are more. Everywhere most people won’t see.”
His brows dipping lower, Becket’s nostrils flared. “Bastard.”
“You have no idea.” Kinsey glanced toward the sound of the sirens. “Please. Let me hide. I can’t face anyone.”
“Who does the car belong to?”
Her jaw tightened. “Me. I’m surprised it got me this far. The thing has barely been driven in over a year.”
“Why not?”
“He parked it in his
shed and hid the keys. I found them early this morning, while he was passed out drunk.”
“When they conduct the investigation, they’ll trace the license plates.”
She tilted her chin. “I removed them.”
“Did you leave a purse with your identification inside the vehicle?”
“No. I didn’t bring anything. I knew I’d have to start over with a new name.”
“If there’s anything left of the Vehicle Identification Number, they can track it through the system.”
Glancing at the empty road, the sirens sounding closer, Kinsey touched Becket’s arm. “It will take time for them to find the details. By then, I could be halfway across the country. But right now, I can’t talk to the sheriff or the firemen. If anyone knows I’m here, that knowledge could find its way into some police database and will allow Dillon to locate me. He has connections with the state police, the district courts, and who knows what other organizations.” She shook her head. “I won’t go back to him.”
“Okay, okay.” Becket rounded to the passenger side and opened the door. “Get in.”
She scrambled in, hands shaking, her heart beating so fast she was sure it would explode like the car. Kinsey glanced out the back window of the truck. The road was still clear. A curve hid them from view for a little longer. “Hurry.”
“On it.” Dillon fired up the engine and pulled onto the blacktop, flooring the accelerator. They reached the next curve before the rescue vehicles appeared.
Kinsey collapsed against the seat back, her nerves shot and her stomach roiling. “That was close.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t know just how close. If emergency vehicles hadn’t been coming, I would not have left. As dry as it’s been, a fire like that could spread too easily, consuming thousands of acres if left unchecked.”
“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have asked you to leave the scene, but I know Dillon. The last time I tried to leave, I was caught because he called the state police and had me hauled home.”
“Couldn’t you have gone to a hospital and asked for a social worker to verify your injuries?” Becket glanced her way, his brows furrowed in a deep V. “Women’s shelters are located all over Dallas.”
