Hellfire, Texas (Hellfire #1) (7 page)

“I’m so sorry.” Kinsey glanced around at everything visible in the light from the raging fire. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You can help with the drinks. When the men get too hot, they switch out. It’ll be a while before they come our way. In the meantime, if you see an ember burning on the ground, stomp it out, or soak one of these burlap sacks in water from this trough and beat it out.” She handed Kinsey a burlap sack and gave her a twisted smile. “Nothing like disaster to bring a community together, right?”

Kinsey grabbed one of the burlap sacks and soaked it in the water from a horse trough. Then the wind shifted toward them. Burning embers fell from the sky, landing on the dry grass and starting spot fires. Kinsey raced around the yard, batting at the mini-fires with the wet burlap sack or stomping them out with her boots. The wind shifted again, and Kinsey walked back to the table with the water jug, sweating, but satisfied she’d helped for the moment.

“Phillips.” Brenda glanced toward the sky, her brow puckering. “I knew some Phillips.”

Kinsey waited.

“Linda and Randy Phillips. They owned a little place near the Graysons. Good people.” She looked at Kinsey. “They had one child. A daughter. That you?”

Kinsey’s heart warmed. In Dallas, no one knew anyone unless they met at work or in church. The big city was impersonal and cold. In rural areas, the neighbors might be a mile apart, but they knew each other. She nodded. “Linda and Randy were my parents.”

“It was a sad day when they died. I wondered what happened to their daughter.” She smiled at Kinsey. “Look at you, all grown up. I don’t recall seeing you since you were in high school.” The woman hugged her.

The warm gesture was so surprising that tears sprung to Kinsey’s eyes.

Within minutes, Brenda introduced Kinsey to four other women, there as support to the men, or gearing up to pitch in and fight the fire.

So much for keeping her existence a secret in Hellfire. But Kinsey didn’t care. These people were friendly and caring, making her feel part of the community.

A loud crack sounded, and the fire leaped higher. Sparks and burning embers shot out from the top of the barn.

“Stand back!” Someone shouted. “The roof’s going!”

The men closest to the building scrambled backward, dragging the huge hose with them.

One man tripped and went down at the same time as the roof caved in, pushing the flame-engulfed walls sideways. Burning lumber crashed down on top of the firefighter, trapping him beneath.

Men shouted and ran toward the flames.

On reflex, Kinsey took several steps in that direction when a hand reached out and snagged her arm.

“Kinsey, don’t.” Brenda stood beside her. “They have the training and know what they’re doing. You’d only be in the way and possibly cause more injuries.”

Brenda was right. But standing back and watching was almost more than Kinsey could bear. What if the man beneath the rubble was Becket? Or if he was one of the firefighters racing into the blaze to save the trapped man. They could be burned severely, or suffer from smoke inhalation. Or die.

The men holding the hose trained the water on the wall of boards covering the downed man, extinguishing the flames. Men nearest raced in and lifted the still-smoldering boards while others dragged the injured firefighter from beneath.

Kinsey let go of the breath she’d been holding. But the danger wasn’t over. The fire still raged in the barn, and the man who’d been trapped wasn’t moving.

Paramedics took over. They removed the man’s helmet, checked for a pulse, slipped an oxygen mask over his face, and rolled him onto a backboard. Once secured, they lifted him into the waiting ambulance and drove out of the barnyard.

“Who was it?” Kinsey whispered, her knuckles pressed against her mouth.

“Here come some of the crew,” Brenda said. “They’ll let us know.”

A tall, broad-shouldered man tromped toward them, his face and suit covered in soot. Kinsey could tell it was Becket by the way he swaggered. She ran forward and threw her arms around him. “Becket. Oh, thank God.”

He caught her in his arms. “Hey, hey,” he chuckled. “I’m okay, but I could use a drink.”

Kinsey spun and filled one of the cups. “Who was injured?”

Becket accepted the water and swallowed it quickly. “John LaRue.”

Her heart pinched. “Little Johnny? The boy who chased me around the playground when I was in grade school?”

Handing her the cup, Becket winked. “He’s twenty-four, and a damned good firefighter now. I have to get back.” He cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes.

For a moment, Kinsey thought he might kiss her. She leaned toward him, but she caught herself before her mouth met his. Shock made her take a step backward. “Be careful.”

Becket turned and walked back to the inferno, his form silhouetted against the orange and yellow flames.

Kinsey pressed her fingers to her lips. Hell, she’d caused him enough trouble already, she didn’t have to add starry-eyed groupie to the list. She had no business kissing or flirting with any of the Grayson men. They’d all been good enough to give her a place to stay. The very least she could do was to stay out of Becket’s way and, for her own sake, refrain from kissing him.

‡

T
wo hours later,
nothing much was left of the barn but a pile of ashes and smoldering timbers. Due to the firefighters’ persistence, the house remained unscathed, and the Welsh family still had a home to sleep in, for what was left of the night.

Tired and thankful no one else was hurt, Becket stripped out of his protective gear and tossed it into the back of his truck. He still reeked of smoke, but he felt a thousand pounds lighter.

Chance, Rider, Nash, and Lily looked all done in, their shoulders drooping.

Lily waved to Becket. “I’ll ride back with Chance.”

Which left Becket alone with Kinsey in his truck. He was finding that alone with Kinsey was not a good thing. The more he was around her, the more he wanted to hold her, touch her, and kiss her pretty pink lips.

He found himself hoping she was well and truly over Massey, so Becket could have a chance with her. How long did women take to get over a bad relationship? He wasn’t sure he could put off kissing her for much longer.

Kinsey joined him at the truck after helping Mrs. Welsh and the other ladies put away the jug of water, cups, and the folding table. Knowing she was there had filled him with a bigger sense of purpose and comfort. Whenever he looked back at the ladies gathered around the table, he knew she was safe. If he’d left her behind at the ranch house, he’d have worried, thus taking his attention away from a dangerous situation.

Becket wasn’t certain how soon Dillon would be served with the restraining order. From Kinsey’s accounting of her past experiences, the man wouldn’t let her go easily. “Sorry, I smell pretty bad. Maybe you should drive while I ride in the back.”

She laughed. “I think we all smell smoky. It’s nothing a shower and laundry won’t cure.” Kinsey climbed into the truck.

Becket slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove off the Double Diamond Ranch.

“How did you join the volunteer firefighting group?” Kinsey asked.

“I told them I wanted in.” Becket shot her a glance. “Why?”

“If I stay in this area, I want in.” She smiled in his direction. “Nothing was more frustrating than to stand back and do nothing.”

“Yeah, but you’re so…small.”

She straightened her shoulders. “I might be small, but I’m stronger than you think.”

The thought of Kinsey carrying a heavy hose or charging into a burning building made Becket’s stomach clench. “It’s not easy. The PPE, personal protective equipment, we wear is heavy, even without the oxygen tanks. On top of that, the pressure from a water hose is enough to knock men as big as I am flat on my ass.”

“Lily is a volunteer, isn’t she?” Kinsey pointed out.

“Yes.”

“Surely, there’s something I could do. And I’d like to be included in the training. Every man and woman who lives in a rural community needs to know how to defend their lives, loved ones, and property from fires, don’t they?”

He nodded, a smile curling his lips. “You’re right. I shouldn’t judge the small size of the package. My father always says: where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“I have the will.” Her head jerked in a quick nod.

He liked her spunk. And to think, her ex wanted to beat it out of her. Becket’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. What he wouldn’t give to pound the bastard into the ground.

At the house, he climbed down and came around to help Kinsey out of the truck, exhaustion making his steps slower. He set her on the ground and, before he could think about what he was doing, he brushed a light kiss across her forehead. “Thank you for helping. You didn’t have to come, but I’m glad you did.”

“I couldn’t have stayed behind, wondering what was happening,” she said, her face turned up to his. She touched her hand to his chest. “I almost had kittens when I saw that wall fall on John LaRue. For a minute, I thought
you
were the one trapped.”

Becket took her hand and touched his lips to her fingertips. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

She stared up into his eyes, heart thumping against her ribs. Then she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss may have been a soft brush of her mouth against his, but it was the spark that ignited the flame.

Becket’s arms circled Kinsey’s waist and he crushed her to him, his lips coming down on hers, claiming her mouth. She gasped, her mouth opening enough for his tongue to slide inside, to twist with hers, caressing the length. He tasted smoke and a hint of minty toothpaste.

She sighed and laced her fingers around the back of his neck, dragging him closer.

What started as a simple
thank you,
exploded into something hotter, more combustible and all-consuming. The sound of a squeaky door hinge made Becket back away. He dropped his arms to his sides and stared down at her, his chest heaving.

Kinsey raised her fingers to her lips, her eyes round, her erratic breathing making her chest rise and fall rapidly.

“Becket? You out there?” Lily called from the back porch.

Thankfully, the truck blocked her view of him doing something he should never have done. “I’m here,” he responded, stepping into view. “What do you need?”

“Could you make sure the chickens are locked in the coop? I thought I saw something moving around when we came in. If it’s a coyote, I don’t want it to get to the laying hens.”

He lifted a hand in a casual wave. “Will do.”

“Thanks.” Lily reentered the house and closed the door.

“Do you need help checking on the chickens?” Kinsey asked.

Her voice was low, gravelly, and so sexy, Becket’s groin tightened. “No,” he said, firming his resolve. “You should go inside.”

Before I kiss you again.

She started to turn away, paused, and touched his arm. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Hell, yeah. But I’m not sorry it did.” He brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear. “I can’t take it back.”

“Nor can I.” Her chest rose and fell on a sigh. “But I can’t let it happen again.”

“Okay.” Though he wanted to pull her back into his embrace, he restrained himself. “You’d better take a number for the shower. I’ll be in shortly.”

He spun on his heels and headed for the barn and chicken house. Resistance wasn’t working for him. Which meant the farther away from Kinsey, the better.

Grabbing a flashlight they kept hung on the inside of the barn, Becket made a perfunctory inspection of the chicken house and yard. No sign of coyotes. He shined a beam at the ground. The only prints in the dust were human. No animal tracks. As Becket made a turn around the exterior of the barn, he had the odd feeling of being watched. Shining the flashlight beam outward, he panned the surrounding corral, pasture, and outbuildings. Nothing moved, yet the shadows took on a more sinister feel.

Becket shrugged, writing it off as exhaustion.

Tomorrow, he hoped to hear news from Natalie about the restraining order. He almost hoped Dillon would make a play for Kinsey. Becket would love a chance to show the man what being battered and thrown around like a rag doll felt like. He’d give the son of a bitch a taste of what he’d done to Kinsey.

Kinsey tossed and
turned through the night, waking with a headache and tightness in her chest. She suspected the headache was from lack of adequate sleep and inhaling too much smoke the night before. The source of the tightness in her chest had to be what kept her from sleeping. Her girlhood crush on Becket had exploded into a full-blown ache that couldn’t be satisfied with a single kiss. Though the kiss had been hot. Really hot.

Leaving her bed just after dawn, Kinsey dressed in the freshly laundered clothes she’d picked out at the thrift shop, brushed her teeth and hair, and headed for the kitchen. At the very least, she could make herself useful. By the time the Graysons entered the kitchen, she had coffee brewing, bacon, toast, and scrambled eggs cooked.