From The Ashes (Golden Falls Fire Book 3)

by Scarlett Andrews

  Elizabeth applied fresh lipstick, fluffed her hair, and got out of April’s car. After a few deep breaths, she went to Jack’s front door, noting the tidy salted walkway, and rang the doorbell.

  Here goes nothing, she thought wanting to turn right back around. But then she remembered Sean’s borrowed Wayne Gretzky truism about missing one hundred percent of the shots you didn’t take, and she rang the bell again.

  As it chimed throughout the house, Elizabeth fidgeted from one foot to the other, gripping the foil-covered plate of brownie bars with both hands. The front door held a large pane of glass, and the door on the other side of the arctic entry was open enough to see that the entire back side of the house had a massive ceiling-to-floor window that gave a sweeping view of the woods beyond.

  When no one came to the door, she rang it a second time. It was two o’clock, sunny and bright-ish outside with another hour of daylight remaining, and it looked to her that Jack should be home because parked in front of the garage was a big red pickup truck with a fire department decal, along with a smaller white pickup next to it.

  Finally, she saw movement, and then a woman crossed by carrying a pile of folded towels.

  Elizabeth gasped. The woman was youngish, with a head of long brown hair that fell in waves down her back. It was the kind of hair you remembered, and Elizabeth did, trying to place her. Did she frequent the bar? Work somewhere Elizabeth shopped? The woman wore earbuds that connected to a device in the back pocket of her jeans, and just as Elizabeth decided it had all been a mistake and she should leave, the woman caught sight of her and startled, stopping in her tracks and nearly dropping the towels. Then, smiling sheepishly, she came to open the door.

  “Have you been ringing the bell?” she said. “I’m so sorry. I had my headphones in. You must be freezing. Please, come in out of the cold. Is Jack expecting you?”

  “No, no, he’s not,” Elizabeth said quickly. She wouldn’t have gone inside except the woman beckoned her. “He helped me the other day, and I just wanted to drop these off as a little thank you. Sean Kelly gave me the address.”

  “I know you,” the woman said. “You’re Emmett Armstrong’s little sister, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m Elizabeth.”

  “Emmett and I used to work together at The Greasy Spoon. Come on through to the kitchen. You can put those on the counter. I’m Kristy, by the way. Kristy Barrow. ”

  Kirsty Barrow, right. Emmett had always been infatuated with her, but she’d been dating someone back then. Was she seeing Jack now? Elizabeth’s heart cratered at the realization that Jack might have lied to her about being single.

  “Are you Jack’s—?”

  Wife?

  Girlfriend?

  “Cabin keeper,” Kristy said, and then smiled, probably at the relief that must have crossed Elizabeth’s face. “I run the cabin rentals and do the housekeeping in the tourist season. This winter, I’m also managing interior renovations and upgrades. Which includes new towels!”

  So that explained the large property. Like a lot of Alaskans, Jack must have a side business during the tourist season. Elizabeth wondered how he’d gotten started doing that, and her admiration—and sense of intimidation—rose still higher.

  “How’s your brother?” Kristy asked. “You know, I always had a little bit of a crush on him. How he stepped up when your family fell apart? That was hot.”

  Elizabeth laughed. Of all the ways she’d describe Emmett’s actions—dutiful, mature—Kristy’s description would have never occurred to her, not in a million years. Then again, she was his sister, and sisters didn’t generally think of their brothers in such terms.

  “Emmett’s doing pretty good,” she said, not because it was true but because she didn’t want to give Kristy a bad impression. “He works at CoCo’s now. He’s trying to get into their management training program.”

  That wasn’t true, either. Elizabeth was trying to get him into the management training program, but thus far the manager had told her in no uncertain terms that Emmett wasn’t a good candidate. That, in fact, he was hanging on to his entry-level job by a thread.

  “I always thought he’d head down to California,” Kristy said. “He talked about it all the time.”

  “Nope. He’s still here.”

  Elizabeth said it cheerfully, although the reminder made her feel bad for Emmett. He’d fallen in love with the idea of California from watching Baywatch as a young teenager. But he’d committed to staying in Golden Falls until she graduated from high school, and by then Elizabeth thought his dreams and ambitions had been buried for so long it was as if he’d forgotten all about them.

  The open kitchen was to the left of the entry, and Elizabeth set the plate of sweets on the large kitchen island, admiring the classic pale granite countertop as she did. The island was long enough for five bar stools. Her own cramped kitchen had only about three feet of counter space, and while she often watched cooking shows and yearned to develop her skills as a baker, her kitchen just didn’t lend itself to it.

  If I had a kitchen like this, I’d bake all the time, she thought.

  “So Jack’s out horseback riding right now, but he should be back any minute.” Kristy studied Elizabeth with a gleam in her eye. “Have a cup of tea with me while you wait for him.”

  “Oh, I don’t need to wait.”

  “Sure you do. Plus, I’m ready for a break. Is Earl Grey okay?”

  “Sure,” Elizabeth said, grateful for Kristy’s efforts. Now that she’d worked herself up to see Jack, she did want to stick around until he returned.

  She climbed onto one of the stools Kristy gestured to and spun around to take in more of the house, equally drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows that gave the snowy outdoors a scenic, winter wonderland impression and to the massive stone fireplace that had a roaring fire going. Both practically beckoned Elizabeth over.

  “This house is really something,” she said.

  “Isn’t it? Jack built it himself.”

  “No way.”

  “Yep, and he built all the cabins out back himself, too. He’s a pretty handy guy.”

  “I’ll say,” Elizabeth said. “How many cabins are there?”

  “Five. Jack built the first and lived in it while he built the second, then started renting it out to pay for the third, and so on.”

  “How long have you worked for him?”

  “A little over two years,” Kristy said. “It’s great because I still have plenty of time to work another job—this time of year, the cabins almost never get rented—plus I’m finishing up community college to transfer to the university in the fall. I’m an older student, but better late than never, right?”

  “For sure,” Elizabeth said. “I always wanted to be a nurse, but …”

  “But what?”

  She shrugged. “Life.”

  “Oh, look! There’s Jack.”

  Kristy gestured toward the windows in time for Elizabeth to see Jack riding in from the woods on a horse, holding the reins with one hand, wearing insulated snow gear but still looking like a wintery Marlboro Man with a felt wool cowboy hat. The sight of him gave Elizabeth a surging warmth in her body, a sense of his refined-yet-rugged manner, and it made her think of what he’d be like in bed. A good horseman was commanding. Assured. Intuitive. All those qualities were great for a lover to have.

  She thought about running her hands across his broad shoulders and about gripping his trim torso, pulling his hips to hers. He would have chest hair, she felt sure, and a tantalizing trail down his abdomen.

  “Girl, you’re drooling,” Kristy said.

  Elizabeth laughed, embarrassed. “What can I say? The man looks good on a horse.”

  “Why don’t you go meet him at the barn?” Kristy said.

  “You don’t think I’d be interrupting?”

  “That man needs a little interrupting.”

  Elizabeth didn’t need any more convincing. She climbed back into her winter coat and boots. “Can
you point me to the barn?”

  “Sure.” Kristy led her to the back door and pointed to the big barn on the property next door. “There’s a trail. He keeps his horse at Pickens Stables because with the shifts he works as a firefighter, it’d be too hard for him to take care of it himself.”

  “Makes sense.” Elizabeth summoned her courage. “Thanks, Kristy.”

  “Sure thing! Tell Emmett I said hi.”

  Since it hadn’t snowed in a couple of days, Elizabeth had a well-stomped path from the house to the stable, which was a distance of roughly three hundred yards. Jack had dismounted from his horse and was talking with a middle-aged woman outside the weathered barn. They turned to watch her, and she felt very conspicuous as she trudged her way over.

  When Jack recognized her, an expression crossed his face that Elizabeth knew she’d never forget. It was one of surprise and gladness. Maybe even elation, and there was yearning, too. As if his heart was tethered to hers and seeing her was like a homecoming of the heart.

  She knew at that moment—absolutely knew, felt it in the very core of her being—that she and Jack would become lovers. And more than that, she knew they’d fall in love, and that it would be a great and everlasting love.

  This is the man I’m going to marry, she thought. And it’s going to be a good marriage and a great love.

  She knew it like she’d never known anything else in her life before. She felt it all the way across the distance between them.

  Jack smiled at her, and it was like his whole heart was in his smile. He waved, and as his love raced toward her, she gave him a big return wave of joy. At that exact moment, the pure force of his love crashed into her like a wave on an ocean shore, and it knocked her to the ground.

  Others would say Elizabeth slipped on a hardened patch of slick snow and fell flat and ungracefully on her ass, but she knew what had really happened. Lying back in the snow, she looked up at the pale winter sky and started laughing. It was a message from the universe: Yes, Elizabeth, you’ll get your great love, but don’t think for a minute it’s going to be easy.

  As if she didn’t already know that. As if anything in her life had ever come easy. At this point, she wouldn’t trust it if it did.

  Silly universe. She didn’t need it to be easy.

  She just needed love.

  Jack’s love.

  9

  Jack returned to the stables from a brisk hour-long ride with Honest Abe. In the winter the trails were kept clear by snowmobile and were usually packed down enough that he could safely bring Abe to a trot for at least part of their rides. Jack dismounted, paused to tell his perlino paint gelding thank you, and greeted Charlene Pickens, who owned the stables with her husband, Rob.

  “Who’s that cute young thing?” Charlene asked.

  Jack turned and saw Elizabeth––whom he’d dreamt about the night before and whom he’d just spent the entirety of his horseback ride thinking about––and a feeling he’d never had before washed over him like the hopeful light of an Alaskan sunrise.

  It was almost mystical. Jack saw her not how she was—a woman he barely knew—but as his. She was his Elizabeth, and she was coming to greet him because that’s what she always did when he came back from a horseback ride. The moment felt familiar, even though it wasn’t. It felt predestined, and he wondered if it was.

  Elizabeth’s smile was brilliant and joyous, but as Jack waved back, she slipped on the icy snow. Arms flailing, she was down in seconds.

  Beside him, Charlene gasped. “Oh, no. I hope she didn’t break something.”

  Jack handed the reins of his horse to Charlene and went to Elizabeth, breaking into a jog. As he approached, he heard her laughing, and her laughter filled him with relief. She couldn’t be hurt too badly if she was laughing like that, flat on her back, looking up at the sky.

  When he got to her, he looked down at her from above. She made no attempt to get up, but her blue eyes danced with happiness and contained great warmth, despite the cold temperature.

  “Hi, there,” she said. “I make quite an entrance, don’t I?”

  “That you do.” Sexy, adorable thing, Jack thought. He longed to gather her in his arms and sit with her there in the snow. Maybe gently tackle her and start a snowball fight. But as much as he wanted physical contact, and as much as he wanted to be the one to make her laugh, he had to hold back. Couldn’t lead her on. His past sins forbade it. “Are you okay? What’s funny?”

  “Oh, the universe,” she said. “It rewards the brave, you know. Or so I’m told.”

  Cute though she was, she was making no sense. “Did you hit your head when you slipped?”

  She giggled. “No, silly.”

  Jack had never much been a fan of giggling women, but coming from Elizabeth, he didn’t mind at all. Her smile was free and generous, so much less constrained than the last time he’d seen her. And she looked different, too. The hair, maybe? He couldn’t tell because she was wearing a beanie hat with a pompom on top. But yes, the black ends were gone.

  “Your hair’s different,” he said, but then realized it wasn’t just the hair. It was more than that.

  She was happy. Lying there on the cold ground, having slipped and fallen in front of a stranger and a man she’d met only twice before—she was happy.

  “Is she okay, Jack?” Charlene called from where she stood.

  “She’s fine,” he called back, and then asked Elizabeth, “You are, aren’t you?”

  “I’m more than fine.” She continued to gaze at the sky, which was darkening by the minute. “You know, the nice thing about being knocked down is you get a beautiful look at the sky.”

  Knocked down? Jack was confused. She’d fallen, plain and simple.

  “The northern lights are going to be pretty tonight,” she said. “I always like it when they’re purple and blue. That’s my favorite combination.”

  Jack remembered his dream then, in which she’d stood with a purple and blue backdrop and asked him to take her home, and a shiver ran down his spine. Something strange was happening with him … between them … as if the future was foretold, and he felt helpless to fight it. If it meant the kind of warm-bodies-closeness he craved with Elizabeth, he wasn’t sure he wanted to fight it.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked softly as he offered his hand.

  “Butterfinger cookie dough cheesecake brownies. I made you a pan as a thank you for all you’ve done.” Her eyes twinkled. “And then you went and knocked me down.”

  His mouth watered at the mention of the dessert she’d brought. “You shouldn’t have. I have no self-control. I’ll probably eat the whole pan in one sitting.” He helped her up, taking her elbow once she’d risen to help her stabilize. “And I didn’t knock you down, Elizabeth—you fell.”

  “If you say so.” She smiled up at him, practically craning her neck to meet his eyes; he hadn’t realized how petite she was.

  “Do you mind if I check your head to see if you have a bump from the fall?”

  “I don’t mind,” she said.

  Although he did it gently, Jack felt like a kid on the schoolyard as he pulled off her hat by yanking on the pompom.

  “Your hair!” he said.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yes. I like it.”

  Not only was the ombre gone like he’d noticed before, but her hair was shorter and the blond richer. Creamier. Lovelier. Elizabeth looked older now than she had the other day. Less scrappy hockey player and more tender. More womanly.

  Jack took off his gloves and wove his fingers through her hair, ostensibly to check for injury, but a faint-but-intoxicating scent of sugarplum made him want to lean closer. As a paramedic, he’d felt the heads of more patients than he could remember, but none of them had the effect that Elizabeth was stirring up now. He tenderly explored her head for a bump, but instead of thinking in medical terms, he found himself noticing the delicate curve of her neck, the soft shell of her ear, the way her quick breath fogged in the b
itter cold.

  “I didn’t hit my head, Jack,” she murmured.

  Her eyes were half-closed in a way that felt like an invitation for him to kiss her.

  Jack wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them, cradle her face in his hands, and explore the soft contours of her mouth. Instead, he set his jaw and reminded himself—shouted at himself internally, even—that this was Elizabeth Armstrong. As much as he might want her, he couldn’t have her. The weight of their fathers’ secret history hung between them, and Jack didn’t know how to get around it.

  “Can I meet your horse?” Elizabeth asked after he’d thoroughly checked her and found her uninjured.

  “Of course!” He was pleased she’d asked. “Do you ride?”

  “I used to when I was a kid. I love horses.”

  “Me, too,” he said. “They’re so much easier than people.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  As they walked to the barn, he told her about Honest Abe and how he had one blue eye, which was supposed to be a sign of wisdom. She liked that, and when they got to where Charlene stood near the horse, Elizabeth took to Honest Abe like she’d known him forever. As she scratched behind his ears, Jack knew his horse was in heaven. Abe loved having his ears rubbed. His butt, too, but he decided not to mention that to Elizabeth just then.

  Jack introduced her to Charlene, who raised her eyebrows and smiled at Jack when Elizabeth went back to nuzzling Honest Abe.

  Jack took the reins from Charlene.

  “Do you want to help me get him stabled for the night?” he asked Elizabeth.

  “Definitely.”

  As the two of them walked into the relative warmth of the barn, Jack had his horse on one side of him and Elizabeth on the other, and he was as happy as he’d ever been—until he remembered whose daughter she was … and how she could never be his, even though it felt like she already was.

  The fullness of an Alaskan winter night was upon them by five o’clock when Jack and Elizabeth walked back up to his house. He knew he should thank her for the brownies and let her go on her way.

  Instead, he found himself asking if he could take her coat. And then if she’d like to warm up with a drink by the fire.