She’ll help protect his ranch...
And heal his heart
Firefighter Jade Carson needs to get the local residents out of a wildfire’s path, but Aidan Bell isn’t moving. Still grieving a tragedy, the stubborn rancher plans to stay and save his animals. Jade and Aidan battle the blaze on his property, only to feel the spark of something unexpected. Secrets are shared, hope kindles...but can they leave the past’s ashes behind and let love grow?
“I thought you’d be willing to leave with me.”
He slowed and shifted to a lower gear. He’d need it to make it to the top of the steep hill where he’d left the sheep. “I wouldn’t have come. Not without seeing my animals safe first.”
She loosened her grip on his dog and turned to face him. “Don’t you get it? There’s no safe in a fire like this. We don’t have a great chance of surviving.”
So be it. It was a voice from the darkest corner of his soul. There were plenty of days, after Colby had died, when Aidan had wished for death, too. Maybe that wish had never quite left him. Maybe it was about to come true and maybe that was okay.
Except now he had her to worry about. This strong young woman who, misguidedly, had thought he was worth saving. Which changed everything. He couldn’t die if it meant taking her with him.
Dear Reader,
If you live in California or any other state prone to long, hot, dry summers, you’ve probably had some kind of experience with a wildfire. Whether it’s breathing smoky air, or driving by a fire, or evacuating, or losing a home, wildfires affect our lives in the western United States.
I’d wanted to write a story about a wildfire for a long while, but could never quite envision what that story would be like. I knew Aidan Bell from the first book in my Heroes of Shelter Creek series, and I wanted him to have his own story. But I couldn’t figure out what would bring the love of his life out to his remote ranch in the rugged coast range of Northern California. And then it hit me. A wildfire. Something so realistic that all western ranchers have to plan for and worry about. And what a great opportunity, in a series called Heroes of Shelter Creek, to write about a brave firefighter!
I hope you enjoy Aidan and Jade’s story. Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me on social media or visit my website at clairemcewen.com. It’s always a joy to connect with readers!
Happy reading!
Claire
Rescuing the Rancher
Claire McEwen
Claire McEwen writes stories about strong heroes and heroines who take big emotional journeys to find their happily-ever-afters. She lives by the ocean in Northern California with her family and a scruffy, mischievous terrier. When she’s not writing, Claire enjoys gardening, reading and discovering flea market treasures. She loves to hear from readers! You can find her on most social media and at clairemcewen.com.
Books by Claire McEwen
Harlequin Heartwarming
Heroes of Shelter Creek
Reunited with the Cowboy
After the Rodeo
Her Surprise Cowboy
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To all the California firefighters who work so hard to keep us safe. Thank you.
Acknowledgments
When I felt like I’d taken on an impossible task with this story, my son said, “You’ll do it anyway, Mama. You always do,” and my husband made me yet another cup of tea. Their unflagging belief in me boosts me up and keeps me going. Sending much gratitude to my wonderful agent Jill Marsal and my amazing editor Johanna Raisanen, who believed in me when I said I wanted to write a story about two lonely people finding love in the middle of a wildfire. And special thanks to friend and dedicated firefighter Britten Miles, who answered my questions about wildfires and firefighting, and supplied me with books and resources. Any mistakes, inaccuracies and embellishments are all my own.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM HILL COUNTRY SECRET BY KIT HAWTHORNE
CHAPTER ONE
AIDAN BELL GRASPED at his old, straw cowboy hat, but he was too late. The wind lifted it right off his head and out of his reach. He watched in dismay as it sailed through the barn’s wide open doors. He’d just finished hosing off the barn floor and the hat landed in a murky puddle on the uneven cement.
“Darn wind,” he muttered and ran to retrieve it, shaking out the battered straw. He’d had this hat for years. Sheila had given it to him when they first bought the ranch. Said it made him a real rancher, and not just a city boy anymore. Though with everything that happened to them after that, maybe drowning by way of manure water was an appropriate ending for the dingy old thing.
He had to go into town later, maybe he could grab a new one at Coast Feed and Supply. Aidan hung the dripping, stinking hat on a nail on the barn wall and went back outside.
Instantly the wind lifted his hair on end with dry, crackling fingers. The Diablo winds only showed up in fall. Diablo meant devil in Spanish, a fitting name for a wind that sucked in heat from California’s Central Valley and blasted it out over the coastal hills. It was like standing too close to an open oven.
Most of the year, Bellweather Ranch came with its own air-conditioning—thick fog from the nearby Pacific that drifted inland at night. But every fall, when the wind shifted and the mercury rose in the thermometer, Aidan realized anew just how much he took nature’s AC for granted.
Just thinking about it made him hot. Too hot. The air was pressing in on him, stealing his breath. He grabbed the hose and turned it on himself, gasping as the icy well water sluiced over the back of his neck. Chip, his gray-and-black cattle dog, pulled himself up out of the shady patch he’d been hogging all afternoon. He put his pink tongue out and carefully lapped up some water from the hose. Then he ambled away to flop down in the shade again.
“Yeah, get some rest, buddy.” Chip had earned it. This morning they’d moved some of his sheep and cattle to an irrigated field close to the barn. Chip had run like the Diablo wind itself to get the stragglers down the hill and through the gate.
Smiling at the memory, Aidan glanced over at Payday. The big buckskin quarter horse had finished his grain and was nosing at the bucket, turning it upside down, as if that would magically produce more of the special treat. “Pay, here’s something else you’ll like.” He showed Payday the hose, then ran water over the horse’s legs and back, washing away the sweat marks from their earlier ride. Payday didn’t normally love baths, but today he nuzzled Aidan’s shoulder as if to say that he, too, appreciated the chance to cool down. Not that the relief would last long for either of them, in this hair-dryer wind.
Aidan turned the hose off and untied the horse. “You can hang out with your buddies for a few hours. No sense putting any of you in the barn until it cools down a little.” The gelding’s ears pricked forward, as if he understood. Aidan walked his horse down a grassy lane, past the pond, to the pasture where he’d turned out the rest of the horses this morning. The land here sloped down gently toward the valley bel
ow. There was a lean-to shelter that could block the wind and several big oak trees for some deep shade. Aidan opened the gate and led Payday through. Unbuckling the big guy’s halter, he gave him an affectionate swat on the rump. “Have fun out there.” Aidan watched as Payday’s black tail came up, his dark ears pricked forward and he trotted off to join the five other horses that Aidan kept on his ranch.
Six horses were a few more than one man really needed, but Aidan was a sucker for a lost cause. He’d purchased Payday from a breeder, but his other horses were adopted from various rescue groups around the area. He had the acres and the time, so why not?
A glance toward the sun, blazing overhead, told him it was just after noon. He had several hours until dark. Enough time to get cleaned up and into town, to get his errands done before feeding time. Maybe if he was quick, he’d have time to grab a bite to eat at the diner. It would be nice to have a break from his own cooking.
He closed the gate and left Payday’s halter on the post, pausing for a moment to take in the view. He’d owned this land for five years now and still couldn’t quite believe it was his. His ranch was a series of hills and valleys that rolled west toward the Pacific Ocean. His barn and sheep shed were both on one broad hilltop, and his house was up one hill higher, with a wide-open view for miles. He never got tired of it—hills upon hills, parched to a golden color for most of the year, punctuated by majestic, gnarled live oaks. In the distance, a dark band of redwood forest marked the spot where his land ended and a state park began.
Growing up on his parents’ ranch in Wyoming, Aidan’s only goal had been to get away. He’d worked hard and earned every dollar of his college scholarship. Out of college he’d thrown his weight behind an internet start-up that had, miraculously, been successful. But ranching must have gotten into his blood, like some kind of chronic disease. He’d missed it. And he’d never felt at home in the city.
Plus, he and Sheila had been tired of their overwhelming work schedules, and Aidan had already made more money than he’d ever imagined. Lured by a dream of living off the land, they’d bought this ranch and Aidan had fallen in love with it all—raising the sheep, the cattle, dealing with repairs and predators, the solitude, and all the ups and downs that came with ranching.
But that same solitude he loved so much had destroyed the person he loved the most. Or at least, that’s what Sheila had said when she left for good.
And maybe she was right. Today the dry wind, hissing in Aidan’s ears and rattling the dry grass, seemed to magnify the silence, until it filled every space, all around. It was too much, even for him. Aidan returned to the barn to collect Chip. “I’m going to town,” he told the dog, who was still lying like a discarded blanket in the shade. And right there, discussing his plans with his dog, was evidence that Aidan needed some human companionship. He knelt down to scratch behind Chip’s soft ears. “Come on, good boy, it will be cooler inside.”
Aidan jogged up the path toward the house, and Chip panted along beside him. Once inside, Chip made a beeline for his water bowl and then stretched out on the cool tile of the kitchen floor. Aidan jumped in the shower, and within twenty minutes he was back outside at his truck. The wind had slowed a little and the sky looked kind of hazy way off in the east. Good. Maybe clouds would form and the weather would shift. Rain in October was rare, but certainly not unheard of. An early storm would cool everything down.
Aidan cranked up the AC, put on a country music playlist and started the truck down the gravel lane that wound down the ridgetop until it met the road. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he might treat himself to a six-pack of beer at the grocery store. It had been a long week. He’d bred his Dorset sheep for fall lambs, so he’d been keeping a close eye on the pregnant ewes confined to his sheep shed all week. Why three of them chose to give birth right at bedtime last night he’d never know, but he hadn’t had much sleep as a result.
At the bottom of the drive, Aidan turned right on Mill Creek Road. It wound along through live oak and gangly bay trees that clung to the side of the high ridge that Aidan called home. Then it snaked north for several miles through parched open hills until it reached Willits, the closest town. Humming tunelessly along with Reba, Aidan guided the truck around a hairpin turn. The trees cleared—it was just open hillside here, with a view across the low, grassy hills to the east.
His heart lurched in his chest and he slammed on the brakes. “Oh no.” Breath unsteady, he carefully guided the truck into a graveled turnout and cut the engine. Shoving the door open, he jumped out of the cab, shaded his eyes and looked out at the hills, a band of worry tightening across his chest.
That haze he’d seen back at the house hadn’t been rain clouds forming. Smoke was billowing up from a distant ridge. A wildfire. It was still far away, but he could almost smell it. A faint charcoal essence rode on the wind, which had picked up again and was rustling the dry shrubs on the slope below.
This was bad. Really bad. The fire was in the northeast, exactly upwind. It was at least thirty miles away right now, but that wasn’t much comfort. Last summer, a wildfire out near Chico had moved so fast it had burned up the space of a football field every single second.
Stay calm. You’re prepared for this. He’d written out an evacuation plan for his ranch. Now he just had to put his plan into practice and hope the fire didn’t get this far.
Aidan pulled his phone out of his pocket, grateful he and his neighbors had agreed to have a cell tower set up out here on the ridge. He tried Nellie Lovell, his closest neighbor. She was about seventy years old and more stubborn than the mules and llamas she kept on her ranch. No answer. He’d have to get over there and warn her in person.
There was no way of telling what would happen. With any luck, fire crews would slow the blaze down, but with the Diablo winds accelerating the flames, it wasn’t that likely. Aidan’s hands shook as he scrolled through his contacts, his thoughts rushing from fast to frantic. He could lose everything. His livestock could be killed. He had to get his animals off the ranch.
They’d probably open up the fairgrounds in nearby towns for evacuated animals. Aidan lived about equal distance from the towns of Willits and Ukiah. He glanced at the smoke again. The road heading south to Ukiah was wider, a better bet when a lot of folks would be leaving the area.
But he only had one livestock trailer. Nellie only had one, as well. Aidan scrolled through his contacts, finding the number for the livestock hauling company he usually used.
“Marcie,” he said to the woman who answered. “It’s Aidan Bell. I’ve got fire coming my way. Can you guys help me out?”
He could hear her answer in her sigh. “Aidan, I’m so sorry. All of our trucks are out there already. And I called around. Every company I can think of has their trucks out picking up animals already.”
So much for his evacuation plan. He chewed his lip, willing an idea, any idea, to come into his head. “Can you tell me anything about the blaze? I was coming off my ridge to head into Willits when I spotted it.”
“It’s a good way off still. If the wind shifts a little more to the south, it might miss you altogether, but I’d try to get your animals out now, just in case. You got any friends you can call?”
Aidan stared at the smoke, racking his brain. He knew most of the ranchers in the area, but they’d all be busy trying to get their own animals to safety. “I’ll figure something out. Thanks, Marcie.”
“No problem, honey. Just stay safe out there, okay?”
“Will do. Take care.”
Aidan hung up and clicked over to his contacts list. Who could help him? His thumb stopped scrolling at the letter B. Burton. Maya Burton. The wildlife biologist. He didn’t know her too well, but she lived south, closer to Santa Rosa, in the little town of Shelter Creek. Her husband, Caleb, owned a ranch. Maybe she could bring their trailer. Plus, Maya knew pretty much every rancher in the area, so maybe she could get some of th
em to help out, too.
He called her cell phone, and to his relief, she answered on the second ring. He was lucky she wasn’t out in the field somewhere. Quickly, he explained the situation.
“Hang on, Aidan.” He could hear her breath, as if she’d started running. A moment later, she called to Caleb to hitch up the trailer. Relief loosened Aidan’s tense muscles and he put a hand on his truck to steady himself.
“Aidan, we’re on it. We’ll take whatever livestock we can haul back to our ranch,” Maya reassured him. “I’ll call some of the other local ranchers—I’m sure they’ll help, as well. Just get your stock ready. Cattle first, I’d say. If we can’t get enough trailers, your sheep will be easier to manage on the ranch.”
Aidan tried to find some humor. “Wool is fire-resistant, right?”
“That’s what they say,” Maya quipped back. “But we’ll try to get them out, too, if we can.”
“Thanks, Maya.” Probably the most heartfelt thanks he’d ever said. She just might be the miracle he needed.
“See you soon. I promise.”
Aidan hung up the phone and jumped back in his truck. This was bad, but at least help was on the way. He had more to do than he cared to think about, but first he’d better warn Nellie. Glancing over at the smoke, he was shocked to see how quickly it had thickened and expanded—it looked like a storm looming over the distant horizon. He whipped his truck in a U-turn and drove as fast as he could back up the winding road.
Nellie. She’d stood by him, held him up, in those dark months after his son Colby’s death. After Sheila left, throwing blame in her wake.
Aidan had tried to push Nellie away, wanting to be alone in his grief, resenting her determined, quiet care. She hadn’t let him scare her off, though. She’d checked on him every day, brought him food when he was too distraught to think about eating. Now she was his best friend, and he had to get her to safety.
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