by Candi Wall
“You imagine?” He stepped closer. “Didn’t you give her a ride home?”
Irritation settled over him. “I did. Now, if we’re done rechecking my evening, can we get to work?”
Rand opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Sam grabbed his arm. “Why don’t you go help Jacob with the hose?”
With a hard glance at Sam, Rand walked away to where Engine Two was parked.
“What’s with not showing up?” Sam pulled a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He lit up before clamping the smoke between his teeth. “And don’t tell me to mind my own business.”
“None of your damn business, Sam.”
A low chuckle puffed smoke from Sam’s lips and nostrils. “Touchy subject. Far as we’re all concerned, it’s great to see you take an interest in something besides work.”
Christ. He should have known. Small towns hold no secrets. No matter how well a person tries to hide them. “Leave it be, friend. You know I won’t tolerate being fuel for gossip.”
A beam inside the house cracked with a brutal snap. The rumble of falling supports and ruptured wood filled the area. Huge flames erupted from the roof as the fire consumed the newly exposed wood, sizzles of sparks and ash spiraling into the air to mingle with the snowflakes like millions of fireflies.
A hundred years of legacy burned before them, the splintering brittle timbers that had once created a beautiful home now fragile and powerless against the awesome strength of the fire. The house buckled on one side, folding in on itself slowly.
Sam cursed under his breath. “She’s gonna topple.”
Sinister flames ruptured the eaves where roof met clapboard shingles, bright in their dance of destruction. Brack matched Sam’s curse and grabbed a radio from Engine One. “Have everyone focus on the eastern barn now. We’re going to need Limerick.”
Sam barked out orders while Brack put the call in to dispatch for mutual aid. He quickly mentioned the roads and caught sight of Jenna standing near the eastern barn. He pulled her aside. Her eyes were half closed and tear-streaked. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Smoke in my eyes.”
Her voice chewed out in a gravelly whisper and he handed over the radio. “Get back away from the heat. Take a few minutes’ break. Call Hopton and tell him to get some salt and sand on these roads yesterday. When your break is up, relieve one of the others.”
She nodded, coughing into her coat as she stumbled away from the barn. Brack slammed his helmet on and ran to where Rand and Jacob held the fire back on the eastern side of the house. Heat from the roaring flames seeped through his protective clothing. Even at a distance, the eerie voice of the fire crept down his spine. He hated fire. Respected it, but hated it just the same.
“Rand, let me take the front.”
Jacob shifted back to allow Brack access and as he gripped the hose, Rand slid his hands back to support position.
“We’re going to lose it,” Rand hollered over the din.
“We just have to keep it focused until Limerick arrives.”
Brack pulled his coat off, his muscles screaming with exertion. The scent of smoke curled up from his clothes before being whisked away on the increasing wind. A steady mixture of snow and sleet pelted his neck and arms, but the cold brought him relief after the hours it took to finally contain the fire.
The old farmhouse hadn’t toppled on its own as he’d predicted. In the end, it had been safer to break down the remaining supports weakened to a dangerous state by the fire and let the structure burn in on itself. He glanced back as the Limerick engine and tanker pulled away from the scene. Limerick’s assistance couldn’t have come at a more pivotal point. Two of the lines had frozen, the couplings nearly impossible to detach after the snow and ice had formed. With the distance to the water source playing against them and the roads so slick, they had required three tankers to keep the reserve tank full at the scene.
But he couldn’t complain. No one had been hurt, and the animals were being placed at various temporary shelters. The farmhouse was the only loss, and the team had performed to perfection.
The heavy crunch of boots on the accumulating snow gained his attention, and he turned to face Rand. Fatigue replaced the earlier anger Brack had detected on his brother’s face.
“Good work tonight, Captain.”
“Everyone did well,” he agreed.
Rand glanced back at the other members of the team before drawing a hand through his hair. “Look, I just want to apologize for earlier. I was out of line.”
“Yes, you were.”
A slight flicker of annoyance deepened the lines of his forehead before he shook it away. “Whatever’s goin’ on with you and Abby isn’t my concern.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Rand seemed to expect more than that, but Brack was too tired to oblige. When he moved to open the door to his truck, Rand gripped the mirror. “I’d like to know if I have competition, is all.”
Dragged back to the hour before he’d left her cottage, his gut tightened when he imagined her arms wrapped around Rand’s neck. He gripped the door handle tight to keep from lashing out. “She’ll make her own decisions, regardless of anyone else’s opinion.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes creased at the edges then widened before a small smile lightened his features. “She turned you down?”
Brack shook the door to loosen Rand’s grip and climbed up to his seat. “You plan on minding your business sometime tonight?”
“Way to skirt an answer, man. And if you can’t give it straight, you can’t get mad if I keep asking her out.” Rand laughed. “Stake your claim, bro, or I’m giving it my all.”
“You do what you want.” He started the truck and jerked it into drive. “Abby’s a big girl.”
He slammed the door and pulled away before Rand could say anything more. And just in time. If his patience had been tested any further, Rand would have found himself in the snow bank with a bloody nose. Brack could only imagine the gossip that would have created. His brother was notorious for his inability to keep his mouth shut. As it was, by tomorrow the team would think Abby had rejected any advances they might begin to imagine him making.
It was probably best that way. It would make it easier to explain any tension present when he and Abby were together. Regardless of how carefree she acted, when he told her tonight had been a mistake, one that wouldn’t happen again, she was sure to act differently toward him.
His cell phone beeped and he pulled over. Jonathon’s text message asked if everything was okay. He texted back, letting Jonathon know he’d be home in a few minutes. After hitting send, he pulled back onto the road. He could just make out the meager glow of the front porch light at Abby’s cottage when he passed. He wanted to pull in. Tell her now, before any more time went by. But he couldn’t make the turn. It had nothing to do with the ice on the roads. His hands just wouldn’t listen. All the windows were dark, and he told himself it was just as well. He didn’t need to disturb her tonight.
Tomorrow would be soon enough.
The radio crackled to life again, and he groaned as the dispatcher prepared to page. “Brighton Fire and Rescue, stand by for a page.”
Slowing down, he waited for the pager to sound Brighton’s tones. This call wouldn’t take as long as the fire. A car off the road, no injuries but enough damage to keep him from his warm bed. With a sigh, he flipped on his emergency lights and pulled off in the next driveway to turn around.
Sending a quick text to Jonathon to say he was off on another call, he pulled out into the road. All he wanted was to crawl into bed and consider his time spent with Abby. Just the thought spiked his temperature up a notch, and he cursed.
It was going to be a long night.
An hour later, Brack dropped his gear on the floor as he entered his house. The lights were off except the front porch light. Jonathon must have left it on for him. He dragged his shirt off as he made his way to the bathroom.
H
e needed a shower after tonight. Spinning the faucet to full open, he finished undressing and climbed into the steaming-hot water. Soot and filth ran in black streaks down his skin, but he didn’t have the energy to do more than a quick scrub.
He leaned into the shower, letting the water stream over his head and back. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the snapshot images of Abby’s body from his mind. She’d plagued his mind all evening, and now, inside his home, the home he’d bought with Ellen, where his children had been made and took their first steps, her memory fought with Abby’s for a space in his mind.
Ellen’s smile, the way she’d looked when they made love, her beautiful eyes and the laughter always present in the clear blue depths. Everything about her had made him love his life. Four years, and there were still moments when her presence was so real he’d turn around thinking she’d be standing there. But she never was. And now, he didn’t want her to be there, because he was scared of her reaction. Would her eyes hold recrimination for what he’d done? For what he was feeling?
Sex would have been one thing. A release, a simple need, but the way he’d let Abby affect him, the urge to see her, hold her, make love to her again and again…
How was he supposed to hold on to Ellen’s memory, be true to the wife he’d lost because of his actions, when Abby’s touch brought everything into focus for a brief time? Like an addiction, he craved that brief respite from the pain. Even if he didn’t deserve it.
A loud rap against the door startled him and he jerked the curtain back. Jonathon stood in the doorway, his eyes half closed as he signed that he had to piss. Brack would have scolded his son for his language, but he didn’t want him to look too closely. The water could only hide the tears burning at his eyes. His son would react to any hint of sadness Brack couldn’t manage to hide. And he’d learned a long time ago, that Jonathon had a knack for sorting emotions, even when a person didn’t want him to.
Jonathon flushed the toilet then jerked to stare at him. He signed “Sorry” and their eyes met.
For a moment, Brack thought his son would leave alone whatever sign he hadn’t been able to hide, but Jonathon just shrugged, his hands working in a flurry of motion. “I think about her too. All the time. But Abby’s good for us. Mom would be happy.”
And with that, he turned and left the room.
Brack grabbed a towel and sat on the edge of the tub, memories sapping the last of his strength.
Chapter Eleven
Potato salad, coleslaw, ribs, fresh-baked bread. The scent of the food was a veritable feast in itself. Gigi carried more platters to the large table set up in the middle of the fire station parking lot.
Abby hurried over, hoping to find anything to keep her attention off Brack and the others currently in the midst of a volleyball game. She’d had about an hour’s warning that tonight’s meeting was the annual family bash-slash-final prep meeting for the weekend fundraiser. If Jonathon hadn’t mentioned it earlier, she wouldn’t have had time to stop and pick up several boxes of cookies from the bakery.
Her store-bought fare looked out of place next to the plethora of home-baked goodies littering the table, but she wouldn’t have cooked even if she’d had warning. Her culinary skills were nonexistent. In the extreme. But damn Brack for not giving her a clue. Of course, this was the first time she’d laid eyes on him since their encounter the other night.
And he hadn’t given her more than a cursory glance when she arrived. She couldn’t be angry. She’d said no ties. Still, it hurt that he didn’t take a moment to say hello.
“Yours!” Rand shouted.
Brack dove for the ball too late and rolled to his side. He was smiling, and Abby forced herself to look back at the food. Nothing here was as mouthwatering as the man behind her, but she was determined to ignore his draw. No easy task since her body hummed in response to his laughter. She remembered that laughter… Beneath the sheets, while his body did sinful things…
“Hey, Abby.” Gigi approached and set another platter of goodies on the table.
“Hi.” Gigi had returned two days ago, but Abby had yet to ask how her trip went. “Glad to have you back.”
“I’m glad to be back.” She sighed. “My uncle had been fighting cancer for years. We all knew it was only a matter of time.”
Abby gripped her shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Gigi waved her off and when Brack shouted, Abby tried not to look.
“Girl, you got it bad.”
Abby grabbed a slice of banana bread from one of the platters and took a bite. She knew what Gigi meant, and it wouldn’t do any good to pretend ignorance. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Gigi chuckled. “That’s okay. He can’t keep his eyes off you either.”
That knowledge didn’t help. At all.
“He’s a difficult man to understand.” Now there was an understatement.
“There’s a reason.” Gigi wiped her hands on a towel slung over her shoulder. “He’s been through a lot.”
“I know. He told me.” She didn’t elaborate or ask for details. Another thing she’d learned in all her moves. Small-town people were close. Closer than she’d ever be. And that closeness brought a deep loyalty. “I just wish we didn’t argue all the time. It’s like we set each other off, and I never know when he’s going to bite my head off or be my friend.”
“You’ve got to be talking about my moping older brother.”
The statement came from a younger version of Brack, his handsome features alight with an easy smile and a devilish slant to his eyes.
Gigi groaned. “Abby, this is the incorrigible—”
“Infamous,” the man interrupted.
“Lawson.” Gigi smirked. “Youngest of the Elliot brothers.”
Of course. Somehow, he was even more handsome than the other three Elliots put together. His features were perfect, model material.
“Nice to meet you, Lawson. And yes,” Abby offered. “I was just trying to understand Brack’s grumpiness.”
“Let me know when you figure it out. But in the meantime, don’t take it personally.” Lawson nudged her with his shoulder. “He’s like that with everyone.”
“Good to know.”
Lawson stole a turkey roll and barely avoided Gigi’s attempt to slap his hand away. He tossed the older woman a grin before throwing his free hand around Abby’s shoulder. “Now, me. I’m always in a good mood. You’re after the wrong brother, hon.”
“I’m not after any brother.”
Lawson chuckled and leaned in close to her ear. “That’s not how I see it. Looks like you want Brack, Rand wants you and Brack wants to kill Rand. Let’s run away together and they can all keel over from jealousy wondering what we’re doing.”
Abby couldn’t hold back a laugh. Lawson was definitely the most easygoing Elliot brother she’d met so far. “I think maybe you’re too young for me.”
“Irrelevant. Did you know a woman doesn’t reach her sexual peak until she’s in her thirties?” He winked broadly. “What I lack in age, I make up for in skill.”
More cars were arriving and Abby saw Brack, Jacob and Rand head toward a small silver compact that pulled in near the head of the parking lot. Abby shrugged Lawson’s arm off with a laugh. “You’re terrible.”
“Nah, just honest.” He nodded and followed her gaze. “Oh grand, Mother and Father have arrived.”
He walked over to join the other brothers waiting as two people climbed out of the car. Abby wasn’t sure what she expected the mother of all these men to look like, but a tiny, five-foot-two woman wasn’t it. She had distinguished gray hair and a soft smile for her boys. The eldest Elliot male came around the car to take her hand. He was tall and broad-chested, and Abby immediately knew where the sons inherited their good looks.
“Jesus, is every Elliot male drop-dead gorgeous?”
Gigi had come around the table to stand next to Abby. She leaned a hip against the table and sighed. “Yep. It’s disgusting, isn’t it?”
/>
“I feel bad for the mother.”
“Don’t,” Gigi quipped. “Trust me when I say Marla Elliot can hold her own against them all.”
Abby guessed she’d have to. With those combined smiles, the woman would have had to guard herself against them at every turn.
“Oh,” Gigi whispered. “You haven’t even met Gage yet, have you? Girl, that one’s the bad boy from your naughtiest dreams.”
As the older Elliots approached, Abby felt a burst of nervous anticipation. It shouldn’t matter if they liked her or not—but it did.
“This is Abby Burke, our newest member.” Brack steered them toward her. “Abby, these are my parents, Marla and Merrit.”
Abby shook hands with them. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
Marla smiled, her eyes kind. “You are a beauty. And Coast Guard, to boot. No wonder the boys are fighting over you.”
What the heck was she supposed to say to that? Her only consolation was the discomfort Brack and Rand seemed to be suffering.
“She’s used to them fighting over things.” Jacob said, saving her from an idiotic babble.
She’d have to remember to thank him for bailing her out. She laughed to cover her nervousness and met Marla’s gaze. “I can’t imagine how you handled all these boys.”
Marla shoed the men away. “You have no idea. It’s a constant battle.”
“Even now?”
Marla watched her men walk toward the volleyball net, and her gaze filled with tenderness. “It’s worse now than it was when they were little.”
The statement surprised Abby. She sounded so serious. “Really?”
“Oh yes, when you reach my age, you’ll understand.” She shifted a couple platters on the table and waved toward her car. “Gigi, I have several plates in the car we can add to all this wonderful food.”
Gigi walked away to fetch them, and Marla turned back to Abby. “You see clothes and shoes aren’t the only things that get bigger on boys as they grow. Their egos grow too.”
Abby laughed. Now that, she could easily believe.
