A Cowboy Firefighter For Christmas (Smokin' Hot Cowboys 1) (24 page)

He finally lifted his head, eyes dark with banked desire. “Best I go before I can’t go.”

She stepped back, feeling cold without his warmth.

“Do me a favor. Lock your door and wedge a chair under the knob.”

“I’ll do it.”

Then he was gone, taking all his energy, strength, and sensuality with him. And she felt lonely.

Yet she wouldn’t let herself feel down in the dumps, not after her amazing day. She knew the best cure. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, sat down on the settee, and hit speed dial for her BFF.

“Tell me you’ve got the big guy wearing nothing but his cowboy hat,” Cindi Lou said by way of greeting.

“I’m back at Twin Oaks and I just sent him on his way.”

“Bless your heart, you don’t know when you’ve got it good.”

“Oh yes I do.”

“Well now,” Cindi Lou lowered her voice suggestively. “How many fires did he put out in your bed tonight?”

“Let’s see—let me count the times and ways.”

“Oh lordy! That calls for a celebration. Hang on.” Cindi Lou set down her phone with a snap, then came back. “Found these adorable retro glass bottles with metal lids of the very best Dr Pepper. You know, it’s got real cane sugar. Tiny bottles, mind you, but supreme taste.”

“We ever get you up to Wildcat Bluff, maybe we’ll get you hooked on cowboys instead of Dr Pepper.”

“Doubt my heart could take it.” Cindi Lou smacked her lips. “Now if one of those darlings knew how to wrangle me up a Dr Pepper float with just the right touch of vanilla bean ice cream, then I might follow him anywhere.”

Misty chuckled. “To a rodeo?”

“Let’s not get too wild here. You know I’m a city gal through and through.” She made a loud slurp. “Your guy’s hot stuff, isn’t he?”

Misty felt a tingle all over. “I hate to say it, but you were right from the very first.”

Cindi Lou guffawed loudly. “I knew it! He’s the one, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Misty got up and looked out the window at Big John’s dark silhouette. “This is the most amazing place.”

“That’s what I hear.” Cindi Lou’s voice changed from playful to serious. “I got a call from Audrey. She figured—and rightly so—that she’d better come clean with me. Who’d a thunk it? National Timber.”

“Trey’s working with me now.”

“Good. He’s an insider and that always helps.”

“Now that we’ve got all the pieces in place, we’ll catch those culprits.” Misty paced across the room.

“Big business equals big money equals big trouble.”

“I know.”

“So, stay safe.”

“I’m on it.”

“And, darlin’, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Cindi Lou chuckled in her low, husky voice and cut the connection.

Misty walked over to the Christmas angel. She stroked a fingertip across the blond hair, down the satin gown, and pressed the button. Soon joyous music of the season filled the air.

And she felt at peace.

On Christmas Eve, Misty rode beside Trey in his pickup down Wildcat Bluff’s Main Street. Christmas in the Country was in full swing on a beautiful sunny day with bright blue skies. A horse-drawn carriage festooned with red and green ribbons and filled with a family of merrymakers clip-clopped its way along the redbrick lane. Gene Autry’s melodious voice on the outdoor sound system filled the air, along with the scent of kettle corn. A proprietor stirred sugar into popcorn in a big kettle under a bright red awning. A row of folks waited in line to get the fresh-popped kettle corn.

Misty had plenty of time to look through her open window as traffic stalled in a long line while folks found parking places. The town teemed with people wearing holiday clothes. Adelia’s Delights, Morning’s Glory, Gene’s Boot Hospital, and the Chuckwagon Café looked to be doing big business along with other establishments. A line of children waited with their parents to talk with a jolly-looking Santa Claus wearing a bright red suit and sporting a long white beard as he sat on a bench in the shade on the boardwalk.

“Guess I should’ve taken the back road,” Trey said.

“Oh, no. I wanted to see Christmas in the Country.”

“You couldn’t believe we’d get this big a turnout, could you?”

“It’s amazing.”

“And a tradition for some families. They come with their kids, grandkids, and grandparents in tow.”

“I’m so happy to be here.”

He smiled at her. “And enjoying Christmas, too.”

“Thanks to my Christmas angel.” She smiled back at him as she touched the angel on the macramé cord around her neck.

“I’m not going to have to fight you for that necklace, am I?” he teased with a twinkle in his eyes.

She grasped the horse harness hardware and gave him a cautionary look. “You brought it back to me, so that means I get it.”

He laughed. “Come to think of it, I don’t want to get on Morning Glory’s bad side, so you’d better keep it.”

“Bet she’d make you one if I asked her nicely.”

“Thanks but no thanks.” He laughed. “I’m doing fine with my usual holiday clothes.”

He looked heart-stoppingly handsome in a forest-green Western shirt, pressed jeans, and snake cowboy boots. He was wearing his big Santa Claus belt buckle on a brown leather belt. He’d set a dark brown felt cowboy hat with a snake hatband on the backseat.

She’d worn a simple short-sleeve, crimson cotton top, jeans, red boots, and a gift from Trey. He’d brought her a pin in the shape of three green Christmas trees with five dangling miniature sleigh bells that jingled every time she made a movement. Kitsch at its finest.

“Did I tell you Ruby gave me that shirt I borrowed from her?”

Trey cast Misty a sidelong glance with plenty of heat. “Maybe it wasn’t in too good a shape after we got done with it.”

She tossed him an even hotter look in return. “You mean, after you practically ripped it from my body.”

“Now you know why cowboys are partial to snap shirts.”

She ran her fingers down the pearl snap buttons on his shirt. “How fast do you think I could get this shirt off you?”

“Not fast enough.”

She felt a sizzle of heat jump from his chest to her hand. She quickly patted him, then leaned primly back in her seat. “Better get our minds on something else.”

“Nothing better.”

“Appreciate you bringing my stuff over from your place.”

“Hoped you’d come back to get it.”

“If not for Christmas in the Country, I would’ve.”

“I’d like to see your stuff all over my house,” he said in a low, husky voice that carried the promise of hot nights and satin sheets.

She felt his words go straight to her heart. She wanted to be in his big bed—and not just for a few hours. But she had to see this job through first, as well as the chili cook-off, so she decided to lighten the moment. “That’s what you say now, but I can be messy.”

“No problem. We’ll get you an apron from the Chuckwagon Café.”

She laughed at the idea. “Not bad. Those are snazzy. Slade looks mighty good in ruffles.”

Trey joined her laughter. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“I think he’s big enough to take it.”

“With a large helping of chili.”

“Reminds me.” She turned to Trey in concern. “We’d better get our minds on business.”

“Chili, yeah. But I’d hoped like all get-out that we’d catch those culprits before Christmas in the Country.”

“Me too. But there wasn’t enough time.”

“Or leads.”

“I keep thinking something’ll come to me.”

He hit the steering wheel with the flat of his palm. “Maybe all that chili tasting will set fire to our brains.”

“At the least it’ll set fire to our tongues.”

“Bet we could do that without the chili.”

She waved her hand in front of her face as if trying to cool off. “If you make me any hotter, I’ll never make it through the chili tasting.”

“We could skip it and go back to my house.”

She cast him a narrow-eyed look. “Trey Duval, just shut your mouth.”

He threw back his head and laughed hard. “Guess that puts me in my place.”

“Hope so or we’ll be in so much trouble with the other volunteers we’ll never hear the last of it.”

“True enough.”

She leaned back as he finally made it to the end of Main Street. He turned off the road and threaded his way to the school in back of Old Town.

Wildcat Bluff ISD was a collection of redbrick contemporary buildings nestled in a park-like setting. Strings of blue lights outlined the flat rooflines and filled the large oak trees. In front of a two-story building, a sign read “Go Wildcats!” in red letters on a white background. Another sign was posted in front of a smaller building and announced “Wildcat Bluff Chili Cook-Off Benefit.”

Vehicles took up much of the parking area, mainly in the section close to Old Town, but Trey slipped into a spot near the front of the school and switched off the engine of his truck.

“Great.” He pointed toward the building with the chili sign. “That’s the cafeteria, and somebody’s already got a sign up.”

“I’m impressed. We’ve gotten such huge support for the benefit.”

“That’s Wildcat Bluff.” He squeezed her hand. “Let’s go. We’ve got a benefit to put on.”

While he got out, she tugged her cell phone from a back pocket. Cindi Lou had texted “Break a Leg!” Misty chuckled at the old Broadway phrase for encouragement. She put her phone back and checked to make sure she had keys and lip gloss in her front pockets. Despite her earlier vow, she hadn’t brought a purse since she doubted there’d be a place to put it during the chili cook-off.

Trey opened her door with a big smile on his face. She stepped down into the afternoon’s hot sunshine and dry air. Country Christmas music, children’s high-pitched voices, and the rumble of vehicles drifted over from Old Town.

“All set?” He gave her a quick hug, then gestured toward the school.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

They walked hand in hand into the cafeteria, a large room filled with tables and chairs. In one corner students had decorated a Christmas tree with old-fashioned red-and-green construction paper chains, popcorn strings, and candy canes. Children’s crayon drawings on construction paper of cows wearing green wreaths, horses decked out with red-and-green holly, and wildcats pulling Santa’s sleigh piled high with colorful packages were attached to the walls.

Slade walked out of the kitchen area wearing a large white apron over ripped jeans, tie-dyed T-shirt, and black boots. He gestured them toward the back of the building.

Misty hurried forward, suddenly feeling anxious about the event. What if nobody brought chili entries or came to participate?

“Ran over after I finished up at the café,” Slade said. “Looks like you’ve got a winner on your hands.”

“Really?” She walked up to a row of tables near a wall. At least three dozen Crock- Pots in various shapes and sizes filled the tables. “Folks actually brought chili. What a relief.”

“No way would folks miss out on chili,” Trey said.

“That’s the truth.” Slade chuckled in his deep voice.

Trey cocked his head at Slade. “That Morning Glory’s work?”

Slade glanced down at the red-and-green patterns on his T-shirt. “She swears she was inspired by the Ghosts of Christmas Past. And I had to wear it to ensure the success of our benefit.”

“Pays to stay on Morning Glory’s good side,” Trey said. “She knows what she knows.”

Misty held up her pendant. “She gave this Christmas angel to me.”

“Good thing you’re wearing it,” Slade said, chuckling. “We ought to be in good shape now.”

Trey smiled and nodded in agreement.

Misty walked down the line of entries. People had handwritten or printed out their names with the titles of their entries and taped them on the front of their Crock-Pots. She read aloud from a few of the entries. “Bison Bliss. Turkey Fire. Not-for-the-Faint-of-Heart Venison. Pseudo Possum Pleasure.”

“That’s vegan,” Slade said. “Nobody in their right mind would eat possum.”

“Yep,” Trey agreed. “Nasty, greasy stuff.”

“Sounds like you’ve eaten it,” she teased.

“Word of mouth only,” Trey quickly explained.

“Good entries.” Slade gestured at the pots. “Looks like we’ve got chicken, beef, rabbit, quail, goat, and pork, too.”

“That’s amazing.” She glanced from Trey to Slade. “And we’re going to be tasting all these?”

“That’s the plan,” Trey said.

“Yum,” Slade agreed.

“J.P. Gladstone is a judge,” Misty said. “Slade, you met him at Twin Oaks, didn’t you?”

“Yep. And the fancy wife, too.”

“Hedy’s our other judge.” Misty glanced toward the front door. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

“I checked the kitchen,” Slade said. “Staff’s got minced onions, grated cheddar cheese, sour cream, chopped tomatoes, and shredded iceberg lettuce in the coolers ready to go.”

“That’s great.” Misty walked down the line of tables to the end, where a row of wooden trophies with gold trim sat waiting to be claimed by winners. She picked up one and read, “Wildcat Bluff Chili Cook-Off Winner.”

“Nice job, huh?” Hedy called as she zoomed up to the tables, letting the front door slam behind her.

“Looks wonderful.” Misty set down the trophy. “Everybody really pulled together to make this happen. I’m so appreciative.”

“That’s the way we roll in Wildcat Bluff.” Hedy laughed as she rolled back and forth in her wheelchair to make her point.

Everybody joined her laughter.

“And I’d like to announce that some special someone anonymously donated six animal oxygen kits to fire-rescue,” Hedy said.

Trey and Slade whistled while Misty clapped her hands.

“Misty, don’t guess you’d know anything about that, would you?” Hedy raised an eyebrow in question.

“Only that I’m really happy about it.”

Trey slanted a glance at Misty, and then he grinned big-time.

“Hey!” a deep male voice called as the front door opened and slammed shut. “You didn’t start the chili judging without me, did you?”

Misty waved J.P. forward. “You’re right on time. Where’s Charlene?”

“Where else? Shopping on Main Street.” He guffawed at his own joke as he joined them. He raised a lid, sniffed, and set it down again. “Smells good.”

“Guess there’s no reason not to get started judging, is there?” Misty glanced around the more experienced group.

“I’ll get plastic spoons and small cups from the kitchen,” Slade said.

“We’d better all get a bottle of water, too,” Trey added. “It’s gonna be hot.”

“I’ll get the water,” Misty said. “I want to make sure we’ve got corn chips.”

“Looks like the staff filled your list,” Slade said. “But it’s best to check yourself. There’s still time to pick up any missing items.”

As Misty started to enter the kitchen, she thought of the little kitten. While they were having fun and eating great food, he was struggling to stay alive. “Slade, I’ll be there in a moment.”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and stepped to one side. She hit speed dial for the vet’s office. When she heard Sue Ann’s voice, she spoke in a low tone. “This is Misty Reynolds. I’m checking on the injured kitten I brought in with Trey Duval.”

“Hi, Misty,” Sue Ann said in a cheerful voice. “Thought you’d be at the chili cook-off. By the way, can’t thank you enough for making this benefit possible so all the volunteers and rigs carry animal oxygen kits.”

“I’m not doing much. Fire-rescue really stepped up to the plate.”

“You’re the motivating force.”

“I’m doing my best. I’m getting ready to judge chili right now. First I wanted to check on the kitten.”

“He’s hanging in there. I think he’s going to make it.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news. I’m so relieved for him.” Misty hesitated, and then just blurted out what she wanted to know. “Do you think there’s a chance I could buy the kitten? I’d like to make him part of my life.”

“That’s so kind. I could tell you were attached to him. Tell you what, I’ll check with Slim. I doubt he’d sell—”

“Oh no.”

“But he might give you the kitten since you and Trey rescued the little tyke.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”

“Will do. You have a good event. Bye now.”

Misty put her phone back in her pocket as she glanced up. Everyone was watching her. She smiled. “I was just checking up on the kitten hurt in the house fire.”

“How’s he doing?” J.P. asked with sympathy in his voice.

“He’s getting better all the time.” Misty gave everybody a big smile before she headed for the kitchen.

She glanced back over the empty cafeteria. Soon the place would fill with folks ready to eat chili and donate to the cause. She felt a little amazed that she’d been able to do something as important as helping save the lives of animals. And yet, she felt as if her own life had been—if not saved—certainly rescued in Wildcat Bluff. She was happy to give back to the community that had been so generous to her.