Flame (Firefighters of Montana Book 5)

by Victoria Purman

  He didn’t come in to buy those, either.

  Cady shook her head, willing each and every thought about Dex McCoy to sink to the bottom of Flathead Lake.

  “Damn. Thanks, Jac.” Cady accepted the five dollar bill Jacqui slapped in her hand.

  She curled her fingers around it and allowed herself a smile. She still got a thrill out of serving customers. Her customers. One year on and she was making this thing work. One year of, admittedly, little sleep and no social life whatsoever, but she was running her own business and that was something to be damn proud of. Cady’s heart swelled with pride and then a familiar ache at the fact that her mom and gran weren’t there to share it with her.

  Jacqui quirked an eyebrow. “What’s up with you today? You wouldn’t by any chance be a little distracted by a certain smokejumper in a red truck that just drove by?”

  Cady looked down at the counter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Jacqui picked up her cupcake—red velvet with vanilla frosting. “Sure you don’t.”

  Cady took a moment to enjoy the tease in Jacqui’s voice and in her eyes. She’d come a long way since losing her husband, in the days when grief seemed to control her. Her new pixie cut really suited her, made her look more worldly than her braids had. Cady ran her fingers through her own high ponytail. Shoulder length hair was practical and hygienic because she could pull it back, but it meant her hair was neither long nor short. A bit of nothing, really.

  Cady opened the register and stacked the bill on top of the others under the clip in the tray before shoving it closed with her hip. She may as well address the elephant in the room.

  “I suppose you’re talking about Dex McCoy.”

  “Uh huh. Him. Red truck guy. The one who seems to be able to make you blush just by driving by, judging by how pink your cheeks are.”

  Cady examined the cash register. Snatched a paper napkin from the napkin holder, scrunched it up into a ball and began polishing the display on the register. “The whole town is on edge when the smokejumpers are away. You know that. I’m glad he’s back safely, is all.”

  “Of course you are.” Jacqui leaned closer, checked over each shoulder to ensure no-one else could hear what she was about to say. She waited a beat until two grey-haired women tucked their purses away and headed towards the door. “Listen, Cady. You’re a grown woman. Single. Hot. And downright available. And Dex is single and hot and also downright available. What’s stopping you two?”

  What was stopping them? Cady didn’t want to go over the feelings she’d had about Dex since high school—high school, for Pete’s sake—and especially about what had happened between them that night at The Drop Zone just before she left to go to the culinary institute in California. She didn’t want to remember the fight. Or especially the kiss. She wasn’t even sure it qualified as a kiss if he’d stood there like an old oak tree and hadn’t even kissed her back. The feelings of rejection still stung.

  “Let’s just say we’re very different people,” Cady said, brushing off Jacqui’s suggestion like it was a stray hair on her shoulder.

  Jacqui’s grin said more than her words did. “Different can be good you know, but hey, your loss. And his, too.” She turned towards the door, and then looked back. “Hey, did Miranda talk to you about the catering for the ceremony on Saturday?”

  “Yeah, she did.” Cady wiped her hands on her apron, glad for the change of conversation. “She came by yesterday and I’ve got it all sorted out.” Cady stopped. In her relief at the change of subject, she’d forgotten. Damn. How on earth could that have slipped her mind? It was a year now since Jacqui’s first husband, Captain Russ Edwards, had died doing what he loved. He was smokejumping when he was caught by a rogue wind and slammed into trees up in the mountains. His parachute hung in the fire station now, with his name and the date of his passing embroidered in the red and white, stripes. Everyone was gathering that weekend to attend the ceremony to remember, reflect, and give thanks for his life and sacrifice.

  Cady’s slapped a hand to her mouth, as if the physical act would stop more words tumbling out. “Oh, Jac, I’m sorry. I didn’t think… you okay?”

  Jacqui nodded, a sad smile on her face. “I know I will be. You’re coming, right? We don’t just want your there for your cakes, you know.”

  “Of course I’m coming.” Cady reached over the counter and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’ll be right beside you. If I can elbow Vin out of the way, that is. You two are so great together. Have I told you that?”

  “Yes. Only about a million times,” Jacqui said with a happy smile, which faded quickly into seriousness. “It’s not just me who lost Russ, Cady. The town, his friends, the crew at the fire station.” Her voice trailed off. “It was a nice thing for the new captain to do. God, Sam Gaskill has been there a year already and I still think of him as the new captain.”

  “He and Laurel are a good fit, aren’t they?”

  “They are. They’ll be at The Drop Zone tonight. You coming by?”

  Jacqui had obviously noticed the hesitation on her face. “C’mon, Cady. It’s Saturday night. I know you have the rockingest cake shop in the whole of western Montana, but you need to have a life, too.”

  “Hey! Only Western Montana?” Cady joked, propping her hands on her hips, which were covered by the pink and white striped apron which bore the logo Cady’s Cakes across her chest.

  “I’ll give you the whole damn state if you come tonight to have just one drink.”

  Cady ruminated on it. She straightened the napkins in the napkin holder. Tidied the stack of white paper bags next to it. Checked the time again.

  She sighed. “Okay. Just one.”

  Jacqui winked at her friend. “I’ll see you at seven. That early enough for you?”

  “If I start to look droopy-eyed and, worse than that, if I start to snore, poke me.”

  “It’s a deal. See you tonight!”

  Cady waved back and watched her friend head out the front door and turn left onto Main. She sighed, crossed her arms. Baker’s hours were hardly conducive to dating. She was in bed by eight o’clock every night. When other people were heading out to dinner or a beer at The Drop Zone, she was in bed trying to get through at least one chapter of the latest book everybody was reading before falling asleep.

  But she would push herself to go to The Drop Zone tonight. It had been ages since she’d been out in the dark. God, that thought made her feel like a hermit. It was the hours she worked that got in the way of her love life. That was what she liked to tell herself, anyway. So, she’d been asked out on a couple of dates since she’d been back in Glacier Creek. A few dates. There was the one guy with the beard but no moustache that had looked so strange she couldn’t help but stare at his naked upper lip all night. And not in a good way. She’d lied and gone home early, saying she had to make a wedding cake in the morning. There was the insurance guy who was in Glacier Creek to settle on the Kingsley property, after the old man had died leaving no heirs and had donated his property to the adjoining Flathead National Forest. Insurance guy had doused himself in too much aftershave and Cady spent the entire night gasping for air. And there was the wilderness tour guide who had been the most promising of the lot, but he’d spent the whole evening talking about his broken heart and his ex-wife and Cady had gone to the bathroom and slipped out through the back door of The Drop Zone.

  So yes, The Drop Zone had been the scene of many romantic disappointments.

  What was she even thinking going back there tonight?

  When a group of new moms came in, a posse of Lycra and strollers, Cady looked up, glad of the distraction, and served them all with her best smile.

  Chapter Three

  Dex McCoy ignored the pang of hunger in his stomach as he drove through Glacier Creek’s main street which hit him just about the same time Cady’s Cakes came into view. He only slowed down as he drove past for safety reasons, because there were always people coming and going on th
e street outside her shop. Families with little kids, older folks walking too slowly across Main Street, tired, old cowboys still trying to pretend they had a spring in their step. Safety. Yeah, that was the reason. He sure wasn’t slowing his speed to take a long look through the gleaming front window of Cady’s Cakes. There she was, every day except Sunday. She was there from first light to sunset. And he didn’t need to look too long to see her smile from the front seat of his truck. As wide as the Montana sky, as bright as the stars above when the sun dipped behind the mountains.

  He’d seen Cady Adams’s smile in his head every day he’d been away.

  Dex turned up the radio and a country song filled the cabin of his truck. He sang along with it, totally out of tune, until he reached the Glacier Creek service station. His base. It was a twenty-acre facility surrounded by acres of land, with a couple of airplane hangars, a helipad, and a seven-thousand square foot log cabin. Inside, were offices, a workout area, a bunk house for the crew who were on-call, and a large assembly room where the smokejumpers gathered for briefings and training. This was where he spent his time. Here and home and out at North Fork with Mitch and Sarah and Lila. And, yeah, he had to admit to a few too many nights at The Drop Zone with the crew. Dex pulled into the gravel parking lot, cut the engine, got out, and strode across the lawn to the base, the words from that country song going round in his head. Why were they always about too many beers and the girl that got away?

  He pushed open the front door and looked into the big reception area. Nothing much had changed in the three months he’d been away. It felt good to be back. Dex had returned from Missoula with more experience, some tough jobs under his belt, and the strangest sense that he’d finally earned his place here on the crew. It had been a year since he’d been back in Montana, a year since he’d begun his training. Although he’d done a lot of different jobs in the years he’d been away—he worked construction in Colorado, spent a year on an oil rig in Texas, went back to what he knew on a ranch in Wyoming—and he’d learned to skydive in New Mexico for fun—being a smokejumper was new.

  “Hey, Dex.” He looked to his left. Jacqui Edwards put down her cupcake, spilling crumbs all over the reception desk, and jumped up to throw her arms around him. There was a bark from under the desk and her dog, Muttley rounded it, sniffing Dex’s trousers, his tail sweeping from side to side.

  “Hey, Jacqui,” he said, patting her companionably on the back as she held tight. Muttley barked excitedly, dancing around Dex’s feet.

  Jacqui let go. “Oh, settle down.” She admonished and with the simple act of extending an index finger and pointing it at the hound, her dog quietened down and sat.

  “Good to have you back, Dex. How was Missoula?”

  He rubbed a hand over his hair. “Good.”

  “Were you up there for that big one on Black Mountain?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jacqui’s voice quietened. “Oh, that was bad.”

  “It was. How’s everything here?”

  “Same old. It’s been a busy summer but not as busy as you were in Missoula, by the sounds. Your name’s not on the board today. You dropping off your gear?”

  “Yeah. Better to have it here so it’s ready when I’m back on call.” Dex looked past Sam’s office to the locker room. “I hope there’s still a locker with my name on it.”

  “Of course there is,” Jacqui punched his arm and chuckled. “You’re one of the crew now, rookie. Hey, since you’re here and you’re not on duty, can I ask you for a favor?”

  “Sure.” Dex crouched down to ruffle Muttley’s ears. The dog closed his eyes and titled his head to the side, panting loudly and enjoying every scratch. “What do you need?”

  “Once you’ve unpacked your gear, could you pick up an order for me on your way back through Glacier Creek?”

  “Sure I can. Where from?”

  “Cady’s Cakes,” Jacqui said, smiling. “She’s made a whole new batch of trail mix bars for the station. I need to get them in to the ration packs and since it’s quiet now, fingers crossed, I thought I might use this quiet time to get everything ready for the search and rescue season.”

  “Sure.” Dex felt the tension in his jaw. “I’ll get my gear out of the truck, then I’ll head over.”

  Muttley whimpered when Dex stood and stopped scratching the dog’s ear.

  “Don’t leave it too long. You’ll want to get over there before closing time.”

  As he walked back out to his truck, he tried not to notice that Jacqui was stifling a grin. He had the distinct feeling he was being set up.

  *

  Cady checked her watch, saw it was almost five. Two minutes to five in fact. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying not to think about her aching feet or the tiny headache that had been pounding in her forehead for what seemed like hours. She was tired today, a little more than she usually was. Adrenalin and the business of her shop seemed to carry her though to closing most days, but not today. There was something on her mind, something that had flown in, landed there, and had been hanging on for dear life since she talked to Jacqui earlier that morning.

  As she surveyed her now empty shop, she let out a deep breath thanked the angels—and her regular customers—for another successful day in Cady’s Cakes. And as she watched the cars drive by her front window, in what passed for rush hour in Glacier Creek, her mind drifted to the commemoration ceremony for Russ Edwards one week from today. She had already planned what she was going to bake for the gathering at The Drop Zone after. Three different kinds of bars, which she could make in the days leading up, and then a range of savoury muffins and different kinds of cupcakes. As she stood in the fading afternoon light, the shadows long in the street outside, she had an idea to decorate some of them the red, white and blue of Russ’s parachute. She bent over to grab a pen from the shelf under the counter—to write herself a note so she wouldn’t forget—when she heard the close rumble of a truck.

  She looked up quickly. It was Dex. She watched while he parked right outside her shop, got out, and walked to the front door.

  Well, wasn’t this a surprise?

  For the first time since she’d opened up, Dex McCoy was coming into Cady’s Cakes. What the hell was going on? They hadn’t said a word to each other in forever. And since they’d both been back in Glacier Creek, there was maybe a sullen glance across The Drop Zone. A reluctant nod if they passed each other in the street. But not one single word for four years.

  When he pushed open the door and lifted his eyes from his boots, Cady’s chest tightened and her pulse skipped. God, he looked good. Better than ever. Back in high school, she’d thought he was dreamy, but now? He was smoking hot. Cady took in his tall, rangy frame, his long, loping stride, the deep tan of his revealed forearms and his neck, his jaw, his cheeks. His dirty blond hair, spiky and unruly. Exactly like Dex himself.

  “Hey, Cady,” he said.

  Cady lifted her chin, shoved her left hand on her right to stop the tap-tap-tapping of her pen. She found the most businesslike voice she could muster. She was Cady from Cady’s Cakes, after all. “Hello, Dex.”

  He reached the counter, stopped, and she watched him shove his big hands into the pockets of his jeans. She swallowed hard. She knew they were big hands. He’d used them once to push her away. One night, a long time ago. The no talking for four years thing was a pretty good indication he was as determined as she was to forget about what had happened.

  “How’ve you been?” She could be friendly, even if he felt like a stranger now.

  “Good.”

  “How was Missoula?”

  Dex raised an eyebrow. “How did you know I was in Missoula?”

  “This is Glacier Creek, Dex. Small towns talk, remember?” Maybe he’d forgotten about that, since he’d been away for so long.

  “Missoula was good.”

  He certainly hadn’t learned the art of conversation while he’d been away. He took a good long look around her shop, seemingly
taking in every detail. And when his gaze returned to her face, he was serious and still.

  “This place looks really great.”

  “Well… thanks.” Cady felt the familiar swell of pride and let herself enjoy it.

  “Congratulations.”

  We’ve both come a long way, Cady thought, but she didn’t say it. “I wish I could offer you something but I’ve pretty much sold out of everything, except that one lonely chocolate chip cupcake there. I’ve already cleaned the coffee machine and”—she flicked a glance at the watch on her wrist, noticing the minute hand had just ticked over past twelve—“I’m now officially closed.”

  Dex seemed to be hiding a smile, his lips pulled tight. He also had some muscle action going on in his jaw that was kind of mesmerising.

  “I’m not here for coffee or…” His eyes dipped to the display cabinet. “Or… cupcakes. Jacqui sent me. You’ve got some trail bars for the station?”

  Of course she had some trail bars for the fire station. It was a standing order at Cady’s Cakes. The energy food bars, densely packed with nuts, seeds, oats and almonds, were a staple in the food packs for the smokejumpers when they set off to fight fires. They needed calorie dense foods to keep their energy up for the sometimes days they spent in the inaccessible mountain ranges around Flathead Lake. She’d been supplying them since she’d opened up a year ago.

  “Of course. I’ll just grab them. They’re in the back.” She looked past his wide shoulders to the front door. “Would you mind keeping an eye out? I haven’t locked up.”

  “Sure.”

  Cady wiped her suddenly damp hands on her apron and went to the back of the shop to the storeroom. The bars were packed in a cardboard box, sealed in plastic ziplock bags. When she walked back to him, carrying the box with both hands, Dex’s eyes were on her, studying every step. Every sway of her hips underneath the flare of the pink apron. She hated that she noticed. She liked that he did.

  She put the box on the counter. “Here you go.”