Slow Burn: A Colorado High Country Novel (22 page)

He led her to the back of the cabin, where a big electric log splitter sat beneath a tarp, firewood stacked in big, circular piles. “I’ve started getting in my wood for the winter. It gets pretty cold up here, so I’ve usually got a fire going in the woodstove.”

She liked the sound of that. “I bet it’s beautiful when it snows.”

He gave her hand a little squeeze. “Why don’t you come back and find out?”

Oh, she planned on it.

Inside, the cabin was clean and simple—and very Eric. A blocky leather sofa sat in the living room across from a flat screen TV. Magazines with titles like
Outside
,
Rock and Ice
,
Climbing
, and
Fire and Rescue
sat in neat stacks on a coffee table of polished pine around a glass vase of flowers that looked like they’d come from the wedding—sprigs of lavender, eucalyptus, purple lisianthus, and white roses.

She bent down, sniffed. “Did Lexi give you these?”

Eric looked at the flowers as if he’d never seen them. “Oh. Yeah. Nice, huh?”

There was a single bookshelf that was stacked two deep with books, DVDs, and CDs, a Bose iPod dock on the top shelf charging an old iPod classic. Photos of mountains hung in simple frames on the wall. A small wooden table sat on the far end of the room across from a small galley kitchen, its white Formica countertops sparkling clean.

“The bathroom is right there. There’s a tub and shower—the usual. The bedroom is through there. Like I said, the place is small.”

“It’s not much smaller than my condo.”

He looked surprised at this. “Really?”

The bedroom had a single four-poster bed, its handmade quilt pieced together in shades of green and brown with applique moose across the bottom.

Vic ran her hands over it. “Did your mom make this?”

“It was a Christmas present a few years back.”

“It’s amazing.”

A photo of his mother sat on a chest of drawers made of unfinished pine, the bright smile on her face and the affection in her eyes telling Vic that Eric had taken the photo himself.

“Where do you keep all your climbing gear?” She had half expected to find herself stepping over coils of rope, but so far she hadn’t seen anything.

He pushed back the sliding door of his closet. “It’s all here.”

The closet was full from floor to ceiling with neatly arranged boots, ropes, helmets, harnesses, axes, and a bunch of stuff Victoria didn’t have names for. “Wow. Okay, let me rephrase this. Where do you keep your clothes?”

He chuckled and pointed to the chest of drawers. “But, hey, no peeking at my underwear.”

“Very funny.”

“Why don’t you rest, and I’ll go get your bags.”

She put a pout on her face. “The tour is over?”

“Well, there’s nothing else to see unless you want me to show you the toilet.”

She gave him her best innocent look—and sat on his bed. “I was hoping you could show me how your bed works.”

The breath left his lungs, his brows drawing together. “Are you sure? The doctor said you need to rest.”

“What if I promise to lie on my back? I read somewhere that sex is good for headaches.”

The crease between those dark brows got deeper, but still he didn’t move. “Probably not your kind of headache.”

“Oh, come on. I haven’t had you inside me for thirty-six hours, and I’m
dying
. Isn’t it your job to save people?”

“Well, if it’s a matter of life and death ...” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, revealing that amazing torso of his. “You just lie back. I’m a professional. I’ll take care of everything.”

* * *

E
ric held
Victoria in his arms, his fingers tracing lines over the silken skin of her back, her scent filling his head. A breeze blew through his bedroom window, the heat of sex cooling into a kind of blissed-out languor, the afterglow stretching into a long, intimate silence.

Then it hit him as it hadn’t before.

He’d almost lost her. She’d come so close—
so
close—to being killed. Another couple of inches and the car’s tires would have crushed her.

He drew her closer, kissed her hair. “You scared me to death.”

She cocked her head to look up at him. “I did?”

“I saw that bastard shove you. I saw you fall in front of that car. From where I stood, it looked like it hit you. My heart just seemed to stop. I ran. I couldn’t even think. I just ran to get to you. I think I shouted to Taylor to call for help.” Eric couldn’t remember, the details blurred by adrenaline. “I was so afraid I’d lost you. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life.”

She raised herself up to look at him, her breasts pressing against his ribcage, her gaze warm. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, you have no reason to apologize. It’s not your fault. I’m the one who’s sorry. If I’d seen what was going on, if I’d gotten there sooner …”

“I’m just glad they caught the guys.”

“So am I.” He hadn’t told her that the one who’d shoved her into the street had died. He wasn’t sure what that would do to her.

“It’s so strange to hear you and Austin and Lexi talk about what happened when I don’t remember any of it. It’s almost like it happened to someone else.”

He brushed a strand of dark hair from her cheek. “I bet it is strange.”

“The doctor said I probably won’t ever remember what happened.”

Eric knew this. He’d been standing right there when the neurologist had told her, but he didn’t say so. She was worried about the short-term memory loss, and he didn’t want to upset her. “That’s common with concussion.”

“You helped save my life.”

“I didn’t do much. You would’ve survived even if no one had been there. And if you’d been hit …” There probably wouldn’t have been anything he could have done. “I don’t want to think about that.”

She smiled. “I kind of like this.”

“Like what?”

“Knowing that you got all shaken up over me.”

He tickled her side. “Oh, you do, do you? You like knowing that I almost went out of my mind?”

“No one has ever freaked out for me before.”

Trust her with your feelings.

If he was going to tell her, now was the time.

He stroked her cheek. “That’s because no one has ever loved you the way I do.”

She gaped at him, tears coming into her eyes. “Y-you mean that?”

Now that the words were out, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. “God, yes, I mean it. I’m crazy in love with you, Vicki.”

Her lips curved in a trembling smile, one tear sliding down her cheek. Then a look of worry pushed her smile aside. “How many times have you told me this?”

He laughed. “Just this once.”

“Good.” Relief brought her smile back. “That’s definitely something I would want to remember, because I love you, too.”

Then she kissed him.

T
he next few
days felt like a dream to Victoria. It was like being wrapped in a blanket of happiness. Life was so easy with Eric. She went to sleep each night in his arms and woke up beside him each morning, feeling a kind of contentment she’d never known. It wasn’t just the sex, though sex with him was freaking amazing. Eric was there for her the way no man ever had been.

“This is the closest I’ve come to paradise,” she told him one evening as she snuggled with him in one of his Adirondack chairs on the deck, watching the sunset.

“Me, too.” He kissed her hair, held her closer.

They made a trip to Food Mart each afternoon to buy ingredients for suppers that she made. It was wonderful to have so much time to play in the kitchen, and she was thrilled to see how much he enjoyed her cooking.

“If I keep eating like this, I’m going to become the fat firefighter,” he said after finishing off a meal of pot roast, garlic mashed potatoes, and arugula salad. “Will you still love me when my gut is hanging over my bunker pants?”

She still had bad headaches. She couldn’t spend more than fifteen minutes on her laptop, the light from the screen triggering dizziness and pain. When the headaches got to be too much, she rested. But even then she felt cherished. Eric came to check on her, brought her water and pain pills, sat beside her, rubbed her back.

They went on short walks when she felt up to it. He told her the names of the flowers and trees and shared stories of growing up in the mountains. She got to know the property around his cabin pretty well and saw the landlord’s house. A big two-story home with multiple decks and lots of floor-to-ceiling windows, it sat higher up the mountain in a meadow. It reminded Vic of the house at the Cimarron, though it was much smaller.

“The house, the property, the cabin—it’s all up for sale,” Eric told her. “I’m not sure the new property owner will want to rent out the cabin. Next time you come to Scarlet, I might be living somewhere else.”

“Oh, I hope not. I love this place.”

Eric left her alone only twice—once Sunday evening when he’d been toned out with the Team to rescue a hiker with a broken leg and once Tuesday afternoon when he’d responded to a planned burn on private property that had gotten out of control thanks to unexpected wind.

“This is what it’s like, you know—getting called out all the time, never being certain when I’ll be home, not being able to plan.”

She remembered what his mother had shared with her—that Eric was afraid no woman would want to put up with his schedule. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him. “That’s your job, and I love you for it.”

“Are you certain?” Doubt put a crease between his brows.

“Yes.” She kissed him.

* * *

V
ic awoke
early Thursday to a soft kiss.

Eric stood beside the bed, wearing jeans and a yellow Team T-shirt. “The Team got toned out for a rescue. It sounds pretty technical. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She caught his hand. “Be careful.”

“Always.” He gave her fingers a squeeze and was gone.

She dozed for a while, then got up and made breakfast and coffee. She ate her yogurt and fruit out on the deck, the fresh morning breeze carrying the songs of birds and the gurgling of the creek—okay, and the distant growl of a semi on the highway.

After breakfast, she tidied up the kitchen, took a shower, then went for a short walk, the land that surrounded the cabin now so familiar to her. The big boulder covered with lichens in different shades of green. The columbines that grew in the shade. The little pools in the creek. The rocky outcropping where a pine tree grew in seemingly nothing but rock. The field of golden banner down by the road.

A bittersweet ache gnawed at her breastbone. God, she was going to miss this place. She was going to miss
him
.

She’d never felt so close to anyone in her life, never felt the relaxed kind of intimacy she shared with him. The two of them fit together so well. Being away from him was going to hurt.

But she couldn’t just quit her job, tear up her roots, and move to Colorado next week. She’d be acting on emotion, setting herself up for more heartbreak, more mistakes. Before she could move here, she would have to know what came next in her life. More than that, she would have to be sure about Eric—and about herself. They’d known each other for less than two weeks, after all—not counting last summer.

It’s not that she doubted her feelings for him. She just didn’t trust herself to see the situation clearly. She needed to think things through with the logical part of her mind, and that meant going back to Chicago and facing her life there.

As much as she knew this was true, she hated it.

She made her way back to the cabin to find the driveway empty. When she got inside, she checked her cell phone. No messages. She hoped he was okay. She hoped everyone on the Team—and the person they were trying to rescue—was safe.

Worry niggled at her, sliding into her thoughts like storm clouds creeping across a sunny sky. Was Eric okay? Would anyone think to let her know if something happened to him? Whom could she call to find out what was going on?

Stop being silly.

He’d told her it was a technical rescue. He was probably just working hard, hanging upside down on a rock somewhere.

If she lived with him, this is what her life would be like all the time—spending days by herself, waiting for him to come home, wondering every time he left the house whether he’d get injured or even killed on the job.

Could she handle that?

The answer came to her without a moment’s hesitation.

Yes, she could.

If he could handle the danger and the emotional fallout that came from being a first responder, she could damn well handle loving him. Besides, he knew what he was doing. He hadn’t become fire chief or a primary Team member by shirking on safety. He knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t take unnecessary risks.

To keep her mind busy, she took out her laptop, checked her email, then looked at public-relations firms in Denver, Boulder, Fort Collins, and Colorado Springs. There were fewer than ten large companies in the entire state, and none of them had anything other than entry-level positions available at the moment. She would have kept searching, but looking at the screen made her head ache.

She’d just started making egg salad for lunch when Eric pulled into the driveway. Relieved, she met him at the front door. Immediately, she could see on his face that something was wrong. “What is it?”

He let the screen door shut behind him, took her into his arms, and held her, raw emotion surging through him. “God, it’s good to have you to come home to.”

She held him tight. “What happened?”

“It turned out to be a body recovery. A young climber fell, hit his head. There was nothing we could do.”

She could hear the strain in his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

He held her for a moment longer, his body communicating a need he couldn’t. Then he shut all the emotion away.

He stepped back, kissed her. “Joe called. He wants you to come to Knockers tonight. He hasn’t had a chance to treat you yet for the pizza lesson, and he and some of the others also want to say goodbye.”

At the word “goodbye,” her stomach sank.

Her stolen week in Scarlet Springs was almost over.

* * *

E
ric drove
down the mountain toward town, warmed by what his fellow Scarlet Springers had done to honor Victoria. She hadn’t noticed—not yet. He slowed down, wondering how long it would take her.

“Please promise me no one is going to make a big deal out of anything.”

“Like what—your protecting a defenseless person from men who outnumbered you and were bigger than you are?”

“I didn’t do anything the rest of you wouldn’t have done.”

When it became obvious that she would never notice, he slowed to a near stop and pointed. “Look.”

A square piece of plywood sat propped against the O’Connor’s mailbox, words painted on it in bright orange spray paint.

She stared. “Is that for me?”

“You know any other Victorias in Scarlet?” He sped up again.

“But why?”

She really didn’t seem to understand why people felt so grateful toward her. But then, he’d never seen her do anything for accolades or attention.

He tried to explain. “You’re not from here, but you defended one of ours. You protected a vulnerable man who can’t protect himself and were almost killed. Is it so strange that people want to thank you?”

They passed two more road signs before reaching the highway and heading into town. Another stood facing outward at Frank’s gas station.

“Gosh.” She looked over at Eric, wide-eyed. “I didn’t really
do
anything.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I guess these folks think you did.”

He passed through the roundabout, heading toward Knockers. Almost every business they passed had a homemade sign propped out front or stuck in the window. Some had smiley faces. Others had hearts. The one at the new dispensary had a marijuana leaf. But most just had words, all saying, “Thank you, Victoria.”

The parking lot at Knockers was pretty full for a Thursday night. He parked, then went around to spot Victoria, still unwilling to let her risk falling. They walked hand in hand toward the entrance.

He could
feel
her tension. “Try not to look like you’re walking to your execution.”

That made her laugh. “I just feel silly.”

He opened the door, stepped into the brewpub to find the Timberline Mudbugs on the stage, the tables full, people sitting around, waiting to be seated. He walked up to Marcia, the hostess, to get them added to the waitlist. “Two.”

Marcia smiled. “Hey, Hawke. We’ve got your table ready. Right this way.”

He followed her toward a table for four near the center of the place. “We’re getting the royal treatment tonight.”

Most of the Team was here, sitting in their spot near the climbing wall. Rose was here, too, with her latest beau—the guy with the bushy beard who ran the marijuana dispensary next door to her shop. What was that guy’s name again?

Eric and Victoria were seated for less than a minute when Rain appeared at their table, carrying glasses of ice water. “Your money’s no good in this place, Victoria. Whatever you want, it’s on us. If it were me, I’d go for the shrimp and prime rib, the whiskey—the expensive stuff.”

Victoria laughed. “Thank you, Rain. Please thank Joe for me.”

“Sure thing.”

Eric reached over, took her hands, looked into her big brown eyes. “Do you have any idea how good it feels to be the man who gets to walk in here with you?”

Her gaze went soft and warm in a way that just about killed him. “If it’s anything like the feeling I get being the woman you’re with, then it must be pretty special.”

God, he was going to miss her.

Don’t think about that.

When Rain returned, Victoria ordered the grilled chicken salad and an Italian soda. He ordered the prime rib and a beer.

He caught sight of Joe and excused himself from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

He walked over to the bar. “Hey, Joe. Victoria’s feeling pretty self-conscious about all the attention. She doesn’t think she did anything special. She doesn’t want anyone making a fuss over her.”

Joe glanced over Eric’s shoulder in her direction. “Okay. We can keep it low-key, but someone here wants to thank her.”

He pointed to a table near the kitchen.

Bear sat there, finishing his dinner, a big glass of milk next to his plate.

“Think she’ll object to that?” Joe asked.

“Nah. I think we’re good there.”

“Also, I might or might not have asked the Mudbugs to do a special cover in her honor tonight.”

“Thanks for understanding.” Eric walked back to the table.

“What was that about?” Victoria asked.

“Just trying to make sure Joe doesn’t embarrass you.”

The food arrived a few minutes later, a frown coming over Victoria’s features when she took her first bite of the chicken.