Rescued By Love: Park City Firefighter Romance

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Rescued By Love: Park City Firefighter Romance Page 4

by Checketts, Cami


  The game was tied at seven, and Sage could hardly stand it. She clutched her hands together and stood, bouncing on her heels. One of Cam’s boys knocked the other kid’s stick, and the ball popped out. Braden swooped it off the ground and took off for the other goal.

  “Go, go, go!” Sage screamed.

  He shot the ball at the net, but was knocked down by a huge defender. The ball went in, but no flag was thrown. “Come on, Ref!” Sage hollered. “That was a foul!”

  “Penalty,” Isabella whispered to her.

  “Calm down, ma’am,” the ref said to her.

  Sage gave a surprised laugh and held up her hands. “Come on, ref, that was definitely a fou— penalty.”

  “It was a legal hit.” The guy informed her before running off.

  Braden struggled to his feet and gave her a thumbs up. Sage returned the gesture. She glanced over at Cam. He gave her a broad smile then turned back to his boys.

  Her face reddened, but a few of her fellow fans agreed that it should’ve been a penalty, and that made her feel a lot better. She couldn’t remember ever being yelled at by a ref before. When her brother played football in high school, she’d gotten into the games and yelled and hollered, but maybe high school refs planned on being yelled at and didn’t talk back to the fans. This was only little league.

  “Thanks for defending my boy,” Isabella said with a laugh. “Between you and Coach Compton, I think he’s going to be all right.”

  Sage choked up a little bit. How hard it must be for this young mom to raise a rambunctious boy alone. “He has a great coach.”

  “Yes, he does, and whew, that man just makes my blood pressure rise.” Isabella winked. “In a good way.”

  Sage smiled, but suddenly felt awkward. Braden’s mom was interested in Cam? Why wouldn’t she be? He was a good-looking, nice, hard-working guy. Did Cam return the interest? Why wouldn’t he? Isabella was a gorgeous, petite, and friendly lady.

  The game ended with Park City beating Syracuse 8-7, and half of the goals came from Braden.

  Sage stood and stretched. She wanted to talk to Cam, so she waited while the team gave a cheer then slapped gloves with the opposing team.

  Braden came tearing across the field and squeezed his mom. Sage watched them with a smile. She knew Braden had it rougher than a lot of the children in this affluent valley. It was great to see him having such huge success with lacrosse.

  “I’ll be right back,” Isabella told her son.

  “Okay.” Braden gave her one more squeeze, looking into his mom’s eyes and saying, “You’ll be safe, right?”

  Sage almost laughed at the question. His mom wasn’t leaving him, but seeing the seriousness in his dark eyes made her stomach squeeze, and all thoughts of laughing dissipated.

  “Of course, sweetie. Don’t worry. I’m just going across the field.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Braden released his mom and watched forlornly as she walked away.

  “Hi, Braden,” Sage said.

  He turned and yelled out. “Miss Turner!”

  “That’s me.” Sage waved. He ran to her, but stopped short. She always wanted to hug the boy, but there were boundaries as a teacher she had to be careful not to cross. Today, she figured it couldn’t hurt. She wrapped an arm around him and gave him a squeeze. “You were amazing out there, Braden.”

  “Thanks, Miss Turner.” His cute face lit up. “Thanks so much for coming to my game. You’re the best teacher ever.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She loved his devotion to her and hoped he didn’t realize that she came to the game for his coach too. Sage glanced around for Cam, and her jaw slackened. Braden’s mom was hugging him. Then she pulled back but kept a hand on his arm, and they spoke urgently to each other. They were an amazing looking couple—the well-built, good-looking firefighter and the tiny, beautiful brunette.

  “Miss Turner? You okay?”

  Sage focused on her student. “Yes. I just … need to go. Good job, bud. I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Okay!” He gave her a fist bump then dashed across the field to his mom and coach, who were still completely focused on each other. Braden ran into his mom from the side, and she was pushed into Cam again. Cam supported both of them with his arms.

  Sage turned and speed-walked away. Cam and Braden’s mom. It made way too much sense. They looked perfect together. Braden needed a father figure like no kid she’d ever seen, and Cam would be the ideal pick. Of course he’d be interested in a small, gorgeous woman. Who wouldn’t? Sage tried to shorten her stride, feeling like everybody was watching how long her legs were. She sighed. There was no way she could hide an inch of her height.

  Jumping into her Jeep, she peeled out of the parking lot. She didn’t want to go out with Cam tonight and pretend he was interested in her. From what she’d just seen, she wondered if he’d even show up.

  Chapter Seven

  Cam was on a high from his team winning this afternoon and the anticipation of taking Miss Turner to dinner. He wondered if she was adventurous. After all, she drove a Jeep with no top in April in Park City. She might be up for going to the Olympic Park and doing the zipline or alpine slide.

  He texted her.

  Would you be interested in going at five tonight and trying out a few activities at the Olympic Park before dinner?

  The response was quick.

  I’m sorry. I can’t go tonight.

  Disappointment rushed through him.

  Okay. Maybe some other time?

  We’ll see.

  It was a punch in the gut. He didn’t chase after every woman like JFK and had little intention of ever letting anyone into his heart besides Caylee. Here he’d found himself excited about a woman and she backed out of the date with no excuse and no intention to reschedule. He should’ve left it alone, but he really liked her. She’d been great in every interaction they’d had, and the brownies were good enough he’d fight for a date for another taste of them. She was beautiful, fun, smart, and seemed committed to her students. Showing up at the game today and then yelling at the ref had sealed his attraction to subatomic levels.

  Are you not feeling well?

  Lame that he was giving her an excuse, but he kind of needed something.

  No.

  Cam waited, but nothing else came through. No she wasn’t feeling well, or no that wasn’t her excuse? His fabulous day suddenly stunk. Maybe he could go for a hike or mountain bike ride. Rain started plinking on the metal roof of his cabin, and he grimaced. Really?

  He strode around his spacious living area, wondering if there was something he could work on or clean, but he’d accomplished every project imaginable, and he didn’t get the place dirty enough to warrant much more than dusting, vacuuming, and an occasional deep clean.

  Looking out the picturesque windows, he saw the valley was quickly darkening with the incoming storm. Spring storms could be vicious in Park City, often turning to snow. The fire station might be busy with distress calls tonight. He was tempted to call in and volunteer to run on an extra rig if the department needed him. Man, he was a lame workaholic, but there was nothing wrong with wanting to help people, right?

  Striding to his mudroom, he grabbed a sweatshirt, boots, and his truck keys. He couldn’t just sit here. He’d go on a drive up the mountain road behind his house for a bit and pretend he was a teenager going “digging” again. He spun out of his driveway to the road that led either down to town or up the mountain.

  Bright lights streamed toward him from the direction of town. Cam waited. As the vehicle passed, he wondered if he was seeing things. But no, it was a bright red Jeep. There was a soft cover on it, but it looked exactly like Miss Turner’s Jeep. That couldn’t be right though. There were probably hundreds of Jeeps that looked like hers, and she was home, sick in bed, and wishing she could be going out with him, right?

  Cam flipped a U-ey, gunned his engine, and followed the Jeep in his four-door Chevy truc
k. The paved road quickly gave way to dirt and mud. Within a few miles, they were climbing a rock strewn, one-lane road with pines encasing the road on both sides. Where could this Jeep be going? There were some older cabins up here, but not much else. The driver did a great job maneuvering the road, but it was getting treacherous. Cam considered turning back, but something about this Jeep made him want to keep following it. Going up was manageable, but he could be in trouble heading back home, and sliding off the road would be a huge issue.

  The rain turned to sleet then fat drops of snow, and still the Jeep churned on. When the Jeep turned into a private driveway and parked in front of a remote cabin, Cam felt stupid. He turned in too, intent on flipping around and going home. Maybe there was an episode of Parks and Rec he hadn’t watched yet.

  The driver of the Jeep shot out of her door and glared at his truck like he was following her to attack her or something. Illuminated in his lights, there was no doubt. It was Sage. She sprinted to the cabin’s porch without looking in his direction again.

  Cam slammed his truck into park and jumped out. It was definitely the girl he wanted to be with tonight, but now he realized she’d definitely stood him up. So was she sick or not? He grunted in disgust. Who knew what her text had meant besides that she didn’t want to be with him.

  What on earth was she doing coming to this remote cabin in a storm? Maybe she was meeting her boyfriend here and that’s why she’d told Cam she couldn’t go tonight. He should’ve known a woman as nice, fun, and beautiful as Miss Turner was too good to be true.

  Chapter Eight

  Sage had considered turning back as she drove up the perilous mountain road toward her grandparents’ cabin, but that dumb, huge silver truck stuck to her like peanut butter. She went from irritated to concerned to terrified. Maybe she should turn around and find a way to gun around the truck and head back down to town, but what if the guy had blocked her way, or she slid off the road? She’d always felt protected in the cabin. Her grandpa had designed a safe for guns and ammunition and taught her how to use both.

  Jumping from her Jeep, she flew to the front door, unlocked it, and was inside before her pursuer exited his vehicle. She slammed the door shut, turned the deadbolt, and raced for the hiding spot above the fireplace. Removing the picture over the mantle, she fumbled with the combination the first time. Calm down. She took a few slow pulls of oxygen then tried the combination again. Finally, the safe sprung open and she yanked out a 1911 pistol and started sliding bullets into the chamber.

  The front door vibrated with loud knocks. Sage jumped and dropped a bullet. It didn’t matter, four was enough. She closed the chamber and walked on trembling legs to the front door. What if the guy was armed too? What if he shot out her windows or got inside somehow? She should’ve gone back to town. Dumb, dumb, dumb. But if she’d driven off the road, she would’ve been defenseless. She gripped the smooth metal and felt like her grandpa was here with her, watching over her.

  “I’ve got a loaded gun and will use it if you don’t leave.” She shouted at the door. For effect, she racked the slide as loudly as possible.

  “Miss Turner?” The person on the other side called out. “It’s Cam.”

  Sage’s body sagged with relief. Cam. He wouldn’t hurt her, but why had he followed her up here? Suddenly the relief turned to concern. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to ask you the same thing. I thought you were sick.”

  Guilt made her flush. She didn’t like it when people lied, and he could claim she lied to him, but she hadn’t really said she was sick. Why did he have to follow her up here and call her on it? Why couldn’t he just go be with Braden’s mom, with whom he clearly belonged, and leave Sage to her miserable aloneness?

  “Can I come in, please? The snow’s coming from an angle now.”

  Sage squared her shoulders, set the gun on a side table, and opened the door. The snow was thick and driving straight from the north. Cam was getting plastered, and both of their vehicles were already covered with a layer of white.

  His eyes were hooded as Sage stepped back and gestured him inside. He tried to brush off as much snow as he could then walked over the threshold. Sage shut the door behind him, nervous and wishing he wasn’t here.

  “I’m going to make a mess,” he said.

  “It’s fine. Nobody comes up here but me.” She glanced around the dusty old cabin with the rustic wood furniture. The soft cushions on the couch, loveseat, and chairs had been lovingly sewn by her grandmother. There were carved wooden bears as decoration and framed landscapes of the mountains and gorgeous natural settings surrounding Park City. The mantle was stacked with photos of her, her brother Levi, and their four cousins when they were much younger. The wooden floor was scratched and beaten.

  Besides the open kitchen and gathering area, there were two small bedrooms and a shared bath. It wasn’t much and needed a good cleaning, but it had been hers for a couple of years now, and she loved it.

  “Is this your cabin?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s nice.” He glanced around, but his entire body was stiff and screamed that he wasn’t any more comfortable here than she was with him being here.

  She scoffed. “It’s not nice, but it’s perfect for me.” She turned from him and stomped to the fireplace where wood, kindling, and matches were stacked. Arranging the newspaper then the shards of wood, she felt his presence next to her, but didn’t look at him. He was just commanding. Maybe she should’ve been concerned about having him here, but his take-charge, built like an army tank presence wasn’t scary, at least not in a way that he would hurt her. It was scarier that she was so attracted to him and couldn’t act on that.

  He helped her lift some logs onto the pile of kindling and then sat back while she lit the match and touched it to the rolled newspaper. It caught, and within seconds, a nice blaze was rolling and heat soon followed. The power was on, but who knew what would happen in a storm like this, and she needed something to do with him staring at her like he was.

  “I can’t believe the captain let the helpless female actually light the fire.”

  His eyebrows arched. “I’m only in charge at the station, on a call, or on the lacrosse field. You can be in charge in your cabin.”

  She smirked at him, not believing him for a second. “I don’t think there’s any situation where you aren’t in charge.”

  The snow was melting in his hair, and a few drops ran down the side of his face. Sage couldn’t resist brushing them off. The bristly growth on his cheeks enraptured her, and she kept her fingers there for longer than she should have. “Mountain Man,” she whispered.

  Cam smiled and then captured her hand with his own. It was much too intimate, kneeling next to the fire with the storm obliterating any outside light and this good-looking man staring at her so intently.

  Sage stood and broke from his grasp. She flipped on the overhead light, hurried to one of the armchairs and sat. “Why did you follow me?”

  Cam climbed to his feet and sank into the couch. “I was going for a drive and saw your Jeep. I couldn’t believe it was you.” He pinned her with a look. “Since you’re sick and all. So I followed you to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m feeling much better now.” Sage blinked and looked away, embarrassed that she hadn’t been brave enough to tell him why she didn’t go and now he was calling her on it.

  Cam grunted. “Glad to hear it.” He glanced everywhere but at her then finally muttered. “I still don’t even know your first name.”

  “It’s Sage.” She’d forgotten he didn’t know it. All the flirtatiousness and teasing about her name was gone. She didn’t know why he even cared that he didn’t know her name. Man, oh, man, she had flubbed this one up.

  Sage stood and rushed to the window. White flakes were coming down in increasing intensity. She couldn’t even see their vehicles or the sun, though it was hours from sunset. “Spring storm, who knew?”

  “Th
ese can be vicious.”

  Cam joined her at the window. He smelled clean and manly with a slight hint of warm musk. Why did he have to smell so good?

  “I hate to impose on your hospitality,” he said.

  Sage winced. It was obvious he really didn’t want to impose. He was probably ticked at her for ditching their date and not giving any reason, and she didn’t blame him. Yet how could she tell him she’d been jealous of her student’s mom and was afraid he was interested in Isabella because she was short and beautiful.

  “But I don’t know that I can drive safely out of here.”

  She nodded. He was probably right. “You’re welcome to stay until the storm passes.”

  “Thanks.” He looked around. “Are you prepared for a storm?”

  “Yes.” Was she prepared? This was her wilderness survival cabin. Grandpa had made sure they could survive the apocalypse up here. “I have food, water, and plenty of firewood. We can start the generator if the storm knocks the electricity out and we need more heat than the fire.”

  “I’m sure the electricity will be fine.”

  Oh, man, this felt stiff and uncomfortable. She shouldn’t have backed out of their date without explaining, but how did she defend an irrational jealousy of a woman who seemed like the right fit for Cam?

  Cam returned to the couch and settled in. “Looks like we have some time on our hands. Do you want to tell me why you backed out of our date?”

  Sage wished he hadn’t gone there. What happened to the reclusive captain who kept everything close and guarded? She wanted that guy back.

  “Um … no?”

  “No?” His eyebrows arched up again. Sage realized for probably the twentieth time that his face was very attractive to her. Especially with the sexy scruff that was coming in a dark reddish brown. Yummy.

  She crossed the distance and held out her hand. “I think you’d better take that sweatshirt off and let it dry.”

 

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