by Vella Day
Montana Fire
Montana Promises
Book 3
Vella Day
Copyright © 2014 Vella Day
MONTANA FIRE
Copyright © 2014 by Vella Day
Nook Edition
www.velladay.com
[email protected]
Cover Art by Sloan Winters
Edited by L. Watanabe and Rebecca Cartee
Published in the United States of America
E-book ISBN: 978-0-9899759-6-4
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief questions embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
About the Author
Other Books by the Author
Acknowledgments
Special thanks to Dawn Drollinger, Montana Deputy State Fire Marshal, and to Gordy Hughes, Fire Marshal of Missoula, Montana for answering all of my questions. You guys rock. And to Marla Monroe for all her medical advice.
Chapter One
“I heard you took a bullet for the bride.”
Even though the voice from behind sounded impressed, Jamie Henderson was determined to block out that nightmare. Forever. She softly let out a breath, willing herself to stay calm, and absently rubbed her arm where she’d been shot.
“That’s true.”
Why did Max Gruden, the man her best friend had paired her with to dance, have to bring up her past? Damn him. It was hard enough going through the motions, pretending to be happy, but it was Amber’s wedding day. For her, Jamie would try.
She pressed her palms down the overly big bridesmaid dress then smoothed her long hair, but the blonde wisps refused to stay down. She inhaled and turned around. There might be nearly two hundred people in the middle of a decorated barn, but her world seemed to have shrunk to just the two of them.
She’d never been this close to Max Gruden before. She couldn’t help but drag her gaze from his polished boots to the top of his head. His snug jeans and crisp white shirt with a bolo tie, spoke of a man who didn’t indulge in excesses. He wasn’t bad looking, either.
Who am I kidding?
His combed back brown hair that curled just at the collar, combined with the dark stubble and white smile made him very handsome. Then there were his eyes. She’d never seen anything like them before. The irises were a unique tint. Kind of caramel, like the color of those chewy candies that stuck to her teeth. Nicely spaced apart and set deep, his alluring eyes gave him a look of mystery—or were those etched lines shooting from the corners a result of worry? Upon further study, she’d have to say he looked close to forty.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t know if he said that because she’d been focusing on his face too long or because she hadn’t taken a breath in a few seconds. “Yes. I’ve been through a lot. I space out sometimes. Sorry.”
She inhaled, and his clean, spicy scent with a hint of mint caused more chaos inside her. That wouldn’t do. Max wasn’t her type at all. He carried himself with control and power. Jamie was used to a more quiet man.
The wedding party music struck up, and Max gazed down at her. “I get it, believe me. I know you’ve been through a recent trauma, but could I persuade you to have this dance with me?”
Max had experienced his share of woes, too. Having his wife and young child burn to death at home because of revenge would break the strongest of men. “I’ll dance, but I’m not ready to talk about what happened.” Not that he’d asked her to.
“Deal.”
He held out his hand. When their palms touched, his warmth spread up her arm, and her pulse raced. As they eased their way to the dance floor, Jamie fought his allure.
Amber Delacroix Carter, the new bride, had been in deep conversation with Max a half hour ago, no doubt filling his head about Jamie’s issues regarding her former boyfriend, Benny Ford. Amber had suspected Benny of killing hospice patients at the hospital then murdering Amber’s brother—which was why Benny had shot at Jamie’s best friend.
Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Jamie stepped in front of Amber to protect her. Even after six months, the emotional pain was only now beginning to diminish.
Jamie’s rational thought returned and she pursed her lips. She needed to make sure Max understood that she was only dancing with him because it was her obligation. “Just because I agreed to a dance, doesn’t mean I’m going to spill my guts,” she repeated. She hadn’t meant to sound so bitchy, but her stomach was swirling.
The lines around his eyes crinkled. Damn him. His whole face lit up when he smiled, creating a devilishly handsome appearance. “That’s fine, but if those guts happen to spill, I’m your man.”
“I’ll remember that.” She couldn’t afford to be tempted, especially by someone like him.
This was a wedding, not some therapy session. Jamie was tired of talking about her botched romance. Even if she got over Benny’s betrayal and violence, those poor victims would still be dead.
Max guided her next to him, walked side by side for three steps, and then rotated her backwards as he executed a step-together-step. The man was smooth, almost as if he didn’t have to think about how to move his body.
“Relax. Enjoy the music.” There went that smile again.
How could she relax with his hand on her back, the heat of his body pouring into her, and his masculine scent messing with her brain? Not to mention his sensitivity to her desire not to share.
Answer? She couldn’t.
Throughout the song, Max guided her around the makeshift dance floor, keeping perfect beat to the music. Because of his strong lead, she didn’t have to think where to put her feet. He also didn’t ask her any questions, for which she was thankful.
The volume lowered and the wedding planner stepped up to the microphone. The dance was over, and Jamie wanted to step off the stage, but Max kept a strong grip around her waist.
“Okay, now,” the woman said with more enthusiasm than should be allowed. “How about a hand for the newlyweds?”
For the first time since Jamie had stepped on stage, happiness filled her. Amber Delacroix had found two perfect men, and Jamie couldn’t be more pleased.
As soon as the crowd noise dimmed, a slow song filled the cavernous barn. The woman leaned close to the mike again. “This song is for everyone. Come join Amber, Cad
e, and Stone to show your support.”
Before Jamie could excuse herself, Max drew her near, his strong chest pressed against her body. She wanted to protest, but decided one more dance wouldn’t hurt. She had to admit that being in his arms was nice. Comforting even. She’d been alone since Benny’s arrest, and she hadn’t liked it.
After a few minutes of dancing in silence, her curiosity got the best of her. “Can I ask you something?” Jamie had to crane her neck to look up at him. She was only five-foot-two, and Max was almost a foot taller.
“Sure.”
“It’s a bit personal.”
“Ask away. I’m an open book.”
“It’s about your family.”
He nodded. She didn’t know how he could be willing to talk about something so painful. She wished she could. “How did you move on after the death of your family?” What was his secret?
Max looked over her head as they swayed to the music. “I didn’t for a long time. In fact, I kind of went on a ten-year quest. I became so obsessed to bring the arsonist to justice that I lost a lot of my friends. That was a mistake. Being alone isn’t healthy for the soul.”
Ten years was too long to wait. She, too, had lost some friends. “You seem happy now.” He must have done something different.
He glanced down at her. “I am. It helped that we finally caught the man responsible for the fire.”
“My ex-boyfriend was caught, too, but it’s still hard.”
“I hear ya. If I had to give one bit of advice, it would be to surround yourself with good people. If I hadn’t, I would have sunk into a deep depression. But it’s not easy. I had to force myself to go out, have fun, and help others.”
The advice sounded good. “I’ll try that.” Max was right. Moving on was hard.
In the beginning, her friends called all the time. Jamie even made it to their weekly happy hour, but when she changed jobs, she’d been too busy to meet with them. Or maybe, she’d just let her past rule her life. She hated what was happening to her, but she seemed unable to stop the decline.
Max twirled her around, keeping her close. It was as if he wanted to let her know he could be a friend if she would let him. The problem was that Jamie wasn’t sure if she was ready to let anyone get close to her again.
* * *
The music ended, and Max glanced down at her. “Ready to eat?”
Many of the couples were leaving the crowded stage, and he could sense Jamie had had enough of being this close to him. He worried she’d come up with some excuse not to sit at their wedding party table, but he wasn’t about to let her. He was serious when he said she needed to surround herself with friends.
She bit down on her bottom lip and he could almost see her mind spinning. “Sure.”
Glad to get past that hurdle, he led her to her seat. Jamie intrigued him. A tiny thing, she had shoulder length blonde hair that seemed determine to curl at will, big blue eyes the size of the sea, and porcelain skin that could use a bit more color.
After holding her in his arms, and feeling the tension in her body, this wedding seemed to have taken a toll on her. He understood why. Between the men he worked with at the police station and the firehouse, together with Jamie’s best friend, Max had learned a lot about her. After years of struggling with his own demons, he’d finally gotten closure over the death of his family. Jamie seemed to be at the stage where he’d been before the arsonist’s capture. Max not only believed he could help her—he wanted to help her.
When Jamie was speaking with Amber earlier, he’d caught the spark of life inside her, and a sudden urge to put a smile back on her pretty face shot through him. But Jamie was skittish. He had to be careful. He hoped he had the skill to make things better.
* * *
Four blocks from the free clinic, Jamie gathered the food sacks and a cardboard coffee holder from the passenger side seat. As she slid out of her car, a cold wind blasted her face. Brr. March in Montana was usually warmer—as in ten to fifteen degrees warmer. Stupid weather.
Jonathan, a homeless man she saw often, was slumped on the steps that led up to the abandoned warehouse close to where she worked. Jamie couldn’t imagine having to live outside. Even though both he and his occasional friend, Larry, had told her they weren’t the indoor type, they couldn’t be happy about winter sneaking back in.
As Jamie drew near, Jonathan sat up straighter. “Hello, Miss Jamie.”
She scanned his face, not liking his color or the way he was rubbing his leg. During a rare moment, Jonathan had confided in her that he’d served in the war and had a piece of shrapnel in his calf. She’d offered to take him to the VA hospital to have it checked out, but he refused to go. Said doctors freaked him out.
She lifted one of the white bags. “Stopped by for an early lunch on my way to work.” He’d told her it made him feel like a charity case if she went just for him, so she always showed him her bag, too. She handed him his meal, along with one of the hot drinks. “For you.”
Jonathan grinned, and for a moment, he looked to be on the good side of sixty. His teeth might be even, but they were heavily stained as if he’d spent his life smoking and drinking coffee. Years ago, he might have been a handsome man, but exposure and poor nutrition had dulled his hair and made his beard scruffy. He once told Jamie that his daughter was her age, but that they hadn’t spoken in years. She wondered if his daughter knew how lucky she was to even have a dad.
He guzzled the drink. “You’re a true angel.”
“Where’s Larry?” Jamie always brought a meal for him, too.
“You know him. He comes and goes. I’m sure he’ll stop by at some point today.”
Jamie nodded. “Larry always said Montana’s too damned cold, and he’d be right today. Maybe he’s on his way to Florida.”
Jonathan’s lips tilted upward. “Talks about going all the time. That’s his dream.”
What’s your dream, old man? She wouldn’t ask. Privacy was respected in this part of town.
He glanced up and grinned. “Knock, knock.”
She loved when he told her his corny jokes. When her dad had been alive, he used to do the same. “Who’s there?”
He leaned forward. “Cows go.”
“Cows go, who?”
“No, cows go moo!”
She laughed. It wasn’t really funny, but the delight in his eyes made her feel warm inside. “Good one.”
He never expected her to stay more than a minute or two, but they seemed to connect when she stopped by. Because she’d never mentioned how Benny had gone crazy and murdered some of her hospice patients, Jonathan was one of the few who didn’t look at her with pity.
His brows rose. “I got more.” His glance shot off to the side, and a quick splash of worry replaced his joy.
“I wish I could stay, but I don’t want to be late to work.” She bent over and set down the other coffee and bag that contained a ham and cheese croissant. “In case Larry comes.”
A strong gust of wind from behind forced her to take a step forward. When Jonathan reached up to steady her, the strength in his fingers surprised her. She straightened and smoothed out her coat, a bit embarrassed at him helping her. “Thanks.”
“Take care, missy, and thanks for this.” He raised his cup then nodded to the extra food.
You, too, old man. With a bit more pep in her step, she walked the remaining three blocks to the free clinic where she worked as a nurse, and ducked into the warm interior. Her good friend and fellow nurse, Sasha Langley, breezed out of the hall door into the patient waiting area. “Cold, huh?”
Jamie’s nose must be red. “What’s up with this weather? It was almost sixty degrees yesterday.”
“I know, right?”
Sasha called a Mr. Talbot to the back, and Jamie followed them through the doorway and down the hall. Sasha took her patient into Exam Room 3, while Jamie continued on to the break room, where she stored her gear and spread out her early lunch.
Once she finished
eating, she went to work, checking charts and handling more patients. Person after person piled into the clinic and the day seemed to fly by. This was one reason she loved this job. It kept her mind off the betrayal, and how stupid she’d been not to see the signs of Benny spinning out of control.
Jamie’s last patient was an adorable little girl with a mean sore throat. Katie had been in several times over recent months. Poor thing. Her immune system just couldn’t keep up. A few times, Jamie caught her sucking on her toys, and suggested to Katie’s mom that part of her daughter’s problem might be her chewing on unclean items. Her mom explained that they always stopped at a particular fast food place before they came here so that Katie could collect the free movie toys. Jamie never mentioned it again.
Once she sent the family on her way, she headed to the front to put the file away.
Jamie’s boss, Dr. Yolanda Withers, stepped next to her at the desk. “Thanks for locking up tonight.”
Most of the time, Yolanda closed, but she’d asked Jamie to do it this evening because Yolanda had been fighting a migraine all day. “No problem. Put a heating pad on your face and rest.”
Yolanda gave her a weak smile. “I plan to.” Yolanda lifted the lanyard from around her neck, unhooked the key, and handed it to her. “I guess you’ll be needing this. See you tomorrow.”
“Take care.”
The last of the stragglers left the clinic, and at nine on the dot, the rest of the staff departed. Before Jamie could leave, she shut down the office computers then made sure the Lab had picked up all the samples for testing. Fatigue had victoriously climbed all the way up her body, and she couldn’t wait to collapse on her sofa with a glass of wine and watch some reruns before hitting the hay. Her best friend Amber’s wedding this past weekend hadn’t given Jamie a chance to rest.
Max Gruden’s words of advice were still swirling in her head. The astute observations he’d made after dinner had unsettled her at the time, but the more she thought about them, the more she realized he was right. Only she could take back her life.
Jamie slipped on her coat and grabbed her purse. “Time to go.”
