Bring Your Heart (Golden Falls Fire Book 2)

by Scarlett Andrews

  He grinned. “It sounds more like I’m a bait-and-switch.”

  “Come on, Josh, do it,” Maggie said. “You can have her out to the house and show her the kennel. Maybe even take her for a dogsled ride.”

  “Ooh, yes!” Hayley said. “I could get some good photos, and it would give the piece a true Alaska vibe.”

  “It’s fine by me,” Josh said.

  “Great!” Hayley said. “What’s a good day? How’s Tuesday?”

  “Tuesday’s not so good.”

  “Veteran’s Day,” Maggie said. “Josh always takes part in the National Remembrance Day Roll Call. They read the names of every service member who died in Iraq and Afghanistan. It takes all day, and he stays all day.”

  It sounded horribly depressing to Hayley. “Where’s it held?”

  “Right up there.” Maggie pointed to Armistice Hall.

  Hayley looked at Josh. It was obvious now from his posture and general bearing he’d served in the military. “How long did you serve?”

  “Five years,” he said, somewhat curtly, as if he preferred not to talk about it. “I was a Corpsman deployed with the Marines in Afghanistan. Anyway, Wednesday works for me if it’s good for you.”

  “Wednesday’s great,” Hayley said.

  “Explain to me what kind of profile this is?” Maggie said.

  Hayley decided against mentioning the Devotion.com deal, for fear of counting her chickens too soon. “I’m starting a web campaign to recruit more women to Golden Falls. More single women, specifically, and Cassie suggested I should make the firefighters the example of why women should move here. I’d like to profile one a month on the website.”

  “Oh, here we go!” Maggie moaned exaggeratedly. “You’re gonna make their heads swell.”

  “Wrong body part,” Josh said.

  Hayley couldn’t help raising her eyebrows, and she resisted the urge to laugh. She liked where his mind was, because hers had been there since he’d first said hello.

  “I’m sorry,” Josh said. “I don’t mean to offend.”

  “I’m not offended,” Hayley assured him. “Trust me, my mind goes right to the gutter sometimes.”

  He grinned. “Good to know.”

  “Did you know Josh is training for the Iditarod?” Maggie said.

  “No.” Hayley looked at Josh again, with a fresh hit of appreciation.

  She loved the Iditarod. The thousand-mile route went through Golden Falls every other year, coming right down Main Street, and she always joined the crowd to cheer on the mushers. The last time it came through, she and Rebecca Miller made a bunch of individual-sized cherry pies to hand out to the participants.

  “Ask my brother how well he did,” Maggie said.

  As soon as Maggie said it, Hayley remembered a story she’d seen on the news.

  “Oh, my gosh. You’re the Red Lantern guy, aren’t you?”

  Josh’s cheeks seemed to redden, but with the temperature, it was hard to tell for sure.

  “That’s my brother,” Maggie said. “Came in last place. Got lost on the trail. Local boy, doing us proud.”

  The Red Lantern Award was given to the musher who crossed the finish line last. The award started as a joke, but over time had become a symbol of perseverance. Hayley got teary-eyed every year when she saw the news story about the last-place finisher. She admired tenacity, the fighting of the good fight.

  She remembered the story about Josh in particular because he’d gotten lost. It had been on one of the longest, most remote stretches of the trail, with a full fifty miles between checkpoints. In the endless hilly terrain, which already suffered from a lack of distinguishing features, a snowstorm had blown in and the musher—who Hayley now knew was Josh—had taken a wrong ridgeline, setting him back days.

  Hayley had gotten lost before, too. It had been a different kind of wilderness: the sultry oppressive heat of Miami’s worst neighborhood. She’d been eight years old. The memory of her helplessness and terror preyed on her still, and for that reason she tended to avoid the Alaskan backcountry adventures that many people in Golden Falls enjoyed. Like all who lived in Alaska long enough, Hayley knew basic survival skills, but she always hoped she would never have to use them.

  She shuddered to think what it would be like to be so far from any human contact in the middle of winter, adrift in a white wasteland. “How did you feel when you realized you were lost?” she asked Josh.

  “Incredibly alive,” he said.

  That surprised her. “I would have been terrified. You weren’t at all?”

  He shook his head. Hayley thought he was a man who could blaze away her fears. As she searched his brown eyes and integrated the new information she now had—about his bravery, his fearlessness, his strength of character, his honest-to-goodness heroism—into the intelligence and decency she’d already seen in them, he searched hers back.

  The moment felt as intimate as a kiss.

  Josh Barnes, she thought sadly. Why don’t you want forever?

  6

  Josh woke early on Veteran’s Day. It was always a grim day for him, but grim in a way he appreciated. Having tended to wounded Marines in Afghanistan and having been with many as they died, Josh used Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day as structured days of grief, when he could take the time to acknowledge the guys who never came home. They were good people. Young people.

  Each year as part of the National Roll Call, he volunteered taking a turn reading the names of soldiers who’d died. Several of the other guys on the fire department did, as well. In the years he’d performed this duty, he’d never personally known any of the soldiers whose names he’d recited, but he kept his own list, typed up in alphabetical order, and so he sat for the entire day and listened to each of the nearly seven thousand names being read, waiting to hear the names of those he had known.

  And then he’d whisper a word or two to them. Sometimes just a Hey, buddy, but other times a quick assurance about their loved ones, the ones he kept in touch with on social media. Your boy Ben is in kindergarten. Taylor lost a tooth. Madison’s doing great.

  Structured grief. A bit of a contradiction in terms, but it was what he did. It was how he dealt.

  But first there were the dogs.

  Always, there were the dogs.

  He rose from bed, did his pushups, and layered up. After he got a big pot of stew going for the dogs and a pot of coffee for himself, he wrote out his registration check for the Akpaliki Taurtut 100-mile race, which was under a month away. It would be his first opportunity to test the twelve-dog team he planned to run in the Iditarod, of whom only eight had made the team previously.

  Josh checked his planning schedule for the day, which called for an eight-mile run. He took the pot of dog stew from the stove, loaded it onto his snowmobile, and fed all twenty dogs, one ladleful at a time. He took his group out on the run, and while he usually listened to an audiobook on his headphones while mushing, that day he wanted only the sounds of nature and of his dogs working hard.

  Afterwards, he showered, made himself a hearty breakfast, and drank a few cups of coffee. He tidied up the kitchen and left the coffee pot on its warm setting so Maggie could have some when she arrived home from her overnight shift at the hospital.

  He got in his F250 and drove the twenty minutes into town, parking at the First United Methodist Church, which had been his mom’s church. He was a sporadic church-goer, although it wasn’t uncommon for him to stop in after a particularly gruesome call at work to pray and light a candle for the patients he’d assisted. There was a service in progress, which he attended for a short while and then left, not wanting to miss the start of the National Roll Call. He drove the few blocks to Armistice Hall, checked in at the volunteer table, then went to the same seat he’d sat in for each of the years he attended, fifth row back, third seat from the end on the right.

  The event started right at nine, shortly before official sun up. There was an Honor Guard march, the singing of the national anthem led by
the university’s choral group, a few short speeches, and then the reading of the names began.

  It was a small event. The auditorium was never filled more than halfway. People tended to come for the opening or closing of the ceremony, and only a few diehards like Josh stayed for the whole thing. But he had his list, which kept him focused during the mind-numbingly long day. Six and a half hours later, still he sat, only taking a bathroom break right before his fifteen minutes of roll-call duties. His dull headache never left.

  With about two hours left to go, his attention was drawn to a woman wearing a black overcoat and a hot pink scarf and hat with lipstick to match, holding a beverage. She stood in the side aisle, looking for someone in the crowd. He realized with surprise it was Hayley, and that she was looking for him.

  When she found him, she smiled.

  This woman, Josh thought, touched she’d thought of him. When she slid into the empty seat beside him, he leaned close and smelled fresh orange blossoms. Amazing how in the middle of winter, Hayley could smell of summer. He wondered if her lips tasted of summer, too, warm and honey-sweet.

  “I brought you hot cocoa,” she said softly, holding out the cup. “I thought you might need a little pick-me-up.”

  Grateful, he accepted the warm drink.

  “You’re too kind,” he said.

  “No such thing, Josh.” Her smile soothed him, and he wanted to take her in his arms, feel her soft curves molded against his body. That would soothe him, too. “How are you doing? Rough day?”

  Luxuriant waves of auburn hair protruded from the knit cap she wore, and her rosy cheeks gave her such a fresh-faced look he momentarily forgot how tough the day had been for him. He also realized his headache had disappeared with her arrival. He decided that he didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to spend time with her. Today was just right.

  “Better now.” He took a drink of the cocoa, hot and rich and sweet. “Want a sip?”

  She took a sip and left a pink lipstick mark on the rim of the cup.

  “Sorry.” She gave him a rueful look as she handed it back. “That’s tacky.”

  “Tacky would be you not accepting my dinner invitation. This goes for a couple more hours, but do you want to meet up afterwards and grab a bowl of chili or something?”

  Hayley’s eyes gleamed. “Definitely. But it’s just dinner, right? Just a friendly dinner and not a date, because, you know—”

  “Because you’re a forever kind of woman,” he said.

  “Yes, I am.” She paused, and Josh couldn’t help watching the way her teeth caught on her plush bottom lip. “But I do have an ulterior motive in saying yes.”

  An ulterior motive? Josh liked the sound of that.“What is it?”

  Her expression was coy. “I’ll tell you at dinner.”

  They made plans to meet at eight o’clock at the North Star Café, and Hayley left soon after. As hard as Josh tried to slip back into his somber mood, it was like a fog had lifted. He held the cup she’d brought him long after the cocoa was gone, holding it so her lipstick mark was visible.

  Hayley March had left a mark on him that day with her act of kindness, and forever be damned—he wanted to kiss those pink lips of hers, maybe even that night if he was lucky.

  7

  Hayley arrived ten minutes early for her not-a-date dinner with Josh to secure a table by the fireplace. She hung her coat in the vestibule and stepped inside the cozy restaurant, waving hello to Rebecca’s brother, Eric, who was doing paperwork at the staff booth. The restaurant was half full and alive with conversational buzz.

  It was as good a time as any to ask Josh to be her dating coach.

  When the waitress came by, Hayley ordered a glass of red wine. It occurred to her maybe she should wait for Josh before ordering a drink, but she needed a bit of liquid courage before broaching the subject. Despite the rational part of her brain telling her that there was no future with him, that a relationship was a no-go, her body seemed yet to catch up. Being around Josh made her feel like some internal string was being plucked: vibrating, tense, humming and alive.

  He was unlike any man she’d met before. Maybe that’s what it was. He was a man, not some overgrown college boy who’d never considered what it meant to grow up. He knew what he wanted and what he didn’t want. He wasn’t indecisive or passive or confused.

  He was strong—a strong and sexy man who’d happened to ask her to dinner after telling her repeatedly he didn’t want anything long-term. This would either be the night she got permanently put in the friend zone or the night he agreed to faux-date her long enough to point out her blind spots when it came to attracting a man who was worth her time.

  Instead of the waitress bringing Hayley’s wine, it was Rebecca. She also set down a dish of olives. “Compliments of the Miller siblings. I’m about to head home, it’s close to my bedtime, but I just wanted to stop by and say hi before I leave.”

  “Thanks! How’s the chili tonight?” Hayley asked.

  “It’s good,” Rebecca said. “But it’s always good.”

  “I’m meeting a friend, and he’s had a rough day. I think he’s going to order chili, and I’m hoping the kitchen can make it the best ever. Like, your most special bowl. However you’d go all-out on a bowl of chili, could you do that for him?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Rebecca looked to the door. “Is that him?”

  Hayley exhaled a shaky, happy-nervous breath as she took in the sight of Josh. His face was reddened from the cold and looked tired from what she knew had been a long and emotional day. Still, when he saw her, he smiled.

  “That’s him.”

  “Dang, girl,” Rebecca said. “He was at Singles Night, right? He’s a firefighter?”

  “He is.”

  “You know, I think he’s Mr. December on this year’s calendar.”

  “Mr. December—oh, my!” The firefighters did a risqué calendar every year as a tongue-in-cheek fundraiser for charity. “Dare I ask what he’s wearing?”

  “Not much,” Rebecca said. “So … just a friend? Are you sure about that?”

  “Unfortunately,” Hayley said with a sigh.

  Rebecca smiled in sympathy. “I’ll make sure the kitchen gets that chili going.”

  Hayley stood to greet Josh and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes fell closed, and she felt an electric tingle across her skin, all-too-aware that his lips lingered a moment or two beyond a merely friendly kiss.

  “Cold lips, warm heart,” he said when he pulled back, and Hayley liked the new sparkle in his honey-brown eyes.

  She wanted them to sparkle even more, and so she stepped closer and reached for the top button of his long wool overcoat while giving him a smile. It made her think of taking off more than just his coat. His shirt … his pants … his boxers … seeing his firm muscled body beneath … running her hands across every chiseled inch of him. It was all too tempting, like unwrapping a present before Christmas. She felt her cheeks flare with heat.

  But she barely knew the man. She’d talked to him for a total of at most twenty minutes—although he’d lingered much longer in her nighttime fantasies—and so she when she reached the last button, she behaved herself and let him take over from there. After a moment, Josh stepped back and shrugged out of his coat, then hung it on a wall hook behind him.

  “I hope I’m not late,” he said as they slipped into their chairs.

  “Not at all,” she said. “How did the rest of the event go?”

  “Fine,” he said. “They ended with ‘Taps’ and a twenty-one-gun salute outside.”

  Hayley clutched her hands over her heart. “That always gets me.”

  He smiled. “It’s supposed to.”

  The waitress came by, and Josh ordered a glass of wine as well. Hayley inexplicably warmed to hear him say, I’ll have what she’s having.

  “Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me,” Josh said. “I’d been having kind of a shitty day—until you showed up.”

&nbs
p; The waitress returned with Josh’s wine and took their order. Hayley, newly determined to eat healthy, ordered a grilled salmon salad. As expected, Josh ordered chili. The waitress smiled a little when she took the order, and Hayley was glad it seemed her request to Rebecca had been noted.

  “Let’s get a second glass of wine in a little bit, too,” Josh said.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  A second drink would give her a definite buzz, but it would also give her the courage to ask him to be her dating coach. To look at her with a critical eye and tell her why she hadn’t managed to snag herself a good man. She drank the last of her first glass and realized the buzz had already kicked in. Or maybe it was the excitement at being with Josh, who was incredibly easy on the eyes.

  She took a deep breath and almost broached the subject, but then found herself saying instead, “I hear that you’re Mr. December on the firefighter calendar.”

  Some men would have blushed, but not Josh. He merely raised his eyebrows to see where she was going with it.

  “I’ll need to take a good look through it when I get home,” she said, giving him a once-over.

  “Are you objectifying me?” he teased. “Because I’m so much more than a pretty face.”

  “So why no long-term for you, Mr. More-Than-A-Pretty-Face?” she asked. “If it’s not too personal.”

  Josh sipped his wine and then popped a couple olives into his mouth. The whole time, he kept his insightful eyes on hers.

  “You have this skill of asking questions,” he said. “And it’s very flattering, but I wonder if it’s designed so you don’t have to talk about yourself very much.”

  “You mean like you just did right there?” she said.

  He laughed. “Touché. No long-term for me because it just doesn’t fit with where I am in life. I work, I sleep, I train the dogs, and I don’t do drama. The longer the relationship, the more drama.”

  “So you prefer flings,” she said.

  But he didn’t answer. Instead he sat back and regarded her, his eyes blazing warm, crinkled at the corners as if smiling inside at some thought.