by Barb Han
Her mother had retired to her room to read and Chelsea took a long, hot bath. She went to her room and dropped down on the bed, too tired to take her bathrobe off. Instead, she curled up under the covers and fell into a deep sleep.
In the morning, she’d half expected to walk downstairs to find Nate Kent in her kitchen. She hid her disappointment when it was her mother stirring around in there.
“I’m making pancakes,” Linda said proudly.
“Since when did you become such a great cook?” Chelsea teased. There hadn’t been many home-cooked meals growing up. Her mother had been too tired to cook after being on her feet all day working odd jobs as they’d come along.
“I take after my daughter.” Linda winked.
“I’m afraid she might be a one-trick pony.” Chelsea made her way over to the coffee machine. Fresh coffee smelled like heaven. Skylar would be up in another half hour. Chelsea cherished her morning quiet time before the day got into full swing. She poured the steaming liquid into a cup and headed for the back door.
“Rofert still snoring at Skylar’s feet?” her mother asked.
“Yep.” It was going to be hard to separate those two when the time came. She’d offer to keep him if it wouldn’t cost a month of groceries to feed him for a week.
Chelsea slipped on a pair of sneakers, unlocked the door and pushed open the screen door. She looked out onto the third-of-an-acre lot. There was room for Skylar to stretch her legs out here. Chelsea took in a deep breath and then exhaled. A rogue tear escaped at the thought this belonged to Chelsea. She could make a home for her daughter here. She could provide a stable place for her mother to live.
It was cold outside but Chelsea didn’t care. She wiped away the tear and headed to the mailbox at the end of the gravel lane.
“How’s the restaurant going?” a voice called out from her left. “I’m Gayle Swanson, by the way.”
Gayle Swanson was a woman in her late sixties to early seventies. She wore a hot-pink and black jogging suit. Her head was covered in gray hair in one of those shorter, flattering cuts. Her face was filled with smile lines.
“I’m Chelsea McGregor.” Chelsea walked to the chain-link fence and offered a handshake. The older woman had a surprisingly strong grip. She hoped this might be a friend for her mother. Linda needed more than Chelsea and Skylar. Her mother needed more to look forward to in life than helping take care of them. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You getting settled in all right?” Ms. Swanson asked. “I’m not normally nosy, but it seems like there’s been an unusual amount of excitement and I haven’t had a next-door neighbor in years.”
“We had some surprises at first, but everything is settling in all right now. Somehow a rock made it through that window.” She pointed to the east living room window. “And someone broke in, but my mother interrupted them coming home from the grocery.”
Gayle gasped. “That’s awful. I’m sure sorry that’s been happening. I saw that no-good Barstock boy around lately. I wondered if something was up. His mother and I go way back.” She gave a pensive look. “She was older than me, so I kept an eye out for her in her last years at the house. I figured something must’ve happened to her when I saw the moving truck.”
Chelsea nodded sympathetically.
“She said she had a beautiful great-niece who she would leave her home and business to one day. She must’ve been talking about you,” Gayle observed with a point of her finger.
It was nice to speak to someone who knew her great-aunt personally. Chelsea’s mother had no memories of Aunt Maddie to share. “I’m afraid I didn’t know my great-aunt very well. This has all been a pleasant surprise. Did she say why she felt I was the right person to live here?”
“Said you were honest and hard-working. She saw a lot of herself in you.”
Chelsea’s chest swelled with pride. She thanked Gayle for telling her. “Did you also say that you saw Reggie around lately?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said with a begrudging look. “I don’t know what happened to that boy. His mother was a saint for putting up with him as much as she did. She knew giving him the house and the store was out of the question. He’d sell ’em both bit by bit and blow the money gambling. He got mixed up with betting and got himself in some trouble. That’s about all I know. Maddie didn’t like talking about him. Said talk couldn’t change a person and she’d tried everything in the book to set him right.”
“I’m sorry.” Chelsea’d had it rough and so had her mother, but neither would consider doing anything illegal. Travis hadn’t technically stolen since he’d convinced her to put his name on the accounts. What he’d done was unconscionable and immoral, but not illegal.
“Well, you do what you can with your children and then you have to hope for the best,” the older woman declared.
Chelsea liked Gayle. The woman had spunk. Her no-nonsense attitude was refreshing.
“Reggie’s nothing like that Kent boy who’s been coming around. Remind me, which one is the firefighter?” Gayle asked and there was a twinkle in her eye.
“Nate,” Chelsea returned. It was impossible to hide the flush in her cheeks when she thought about him. “And, yeah, he’s been helpful. My daughter pulled something and ended up getting herself stuck in a crawl space. Luckily, she had my phone and was able to call for help.”
“She sounds smart as a whip,” Gayle declared with a girl-power-fueled fist pump.
Chelsea smiled. “Maybe a little too smart for her own good sometimes.”
“A girl can never be too smart...or too rich,” Gayle quipped.
“I wouldn’t mind more of that last part,” Chelsea joked.
“Has that Nate been coming around a lot?”
The question surprised Chelsea.
“A few days ago, when we were having some trouble, but not now.” Chelsea stuffed down her disappointment.
“He’s a catch, that one. But then, from what I’ve heard, he’s not the ‘settling down’ type. He’ll go out with this one for a week and that one the next. He’s easy on the eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with the same woman twice.” She held up a finger and wagged it. “Well, that’s not true. I’m a liar. He was going with one for a few months. She got transferred with her job and that was that.”
“Oh. Well. I better get back inside. My daughter’s due to be awake any minute and my coffee’s gone cold.” Chelsea didn’t like hearing gossip about Nate. Even worse if it was true. He’d tensed up the other day when Skylar had grabbed onto his legs for a hug. Now it made sense why. If Gayle could be believed, he never stuck around one place for long and he’d probably moved on from Chelsea in the same manner. Why did that feel like a physical blow? What Nate Kent did with his personal life was none of Chelsea’s business.
“Nice meeting you,” Gayle said. “Can’t wait for your grand opening. It’s about time we got a new place to eat in town.”
“Thanks. I look forward to seeing you at the restaurant.” Chelsea turned away to hide the embarrassment heating her cheeks. She’d been thinking about the kiss she’d shared with Nate far too much and a silly part of her thought he might actually be attracted to her. He was just being nice. Granted, that didn’t explain the kiss. Although it could’ve just been for curiosity’s sake.
She stalked in through the back door and was greeted by the warmest sight. Skylar’s arms wrapped around the Rofert’s neck. She’d thrown her leg over his back and was hopping on one foot down the hallway, coming toward the kitchen.
When Chelsea really looked, she could’ve sworn that dog was smiling, too.
“How was your walk?” her mother asked.
“Fine. Cold.” Chelsea moved to the coffeemaker and poured a second cup. She set the mug on the counter and bent down to greet her daughter. “Good morning.”
Rofert’s tail swished back and forth, nailing the fridge.
He was a beautiful animal even if he did shed like crazy. When that big face with those serious brown eyes looked up at her, she bent and kissed him on the forehead. She didn’t care about Nate Kent’s motives or lack thereof. She appreciated his kindness and that’s as far as she could let her feelings go.
The next few days were a blur of early mornings and long, productive days at the restaurant. The quiet was a welcome change from the excitement of the first few days in town. Except that Chelsea hadn’t seen or heard from Nate. Much to her surprise, she missed talking to him.
There were other, darker issues lurking. She had no idea when and if Reggie Barstock would turn up again. Travis hadn’t made himself known, either.
It was probably too much to hope the two of them would leave her alone and go about their own business. A creepy feeling that she couldn’t shake made her fear that neither would walk away so easily. It was too quiet, like the calm before a raging storm.
She pushed those unproductive thoughts aside. Life was getting back on track. Her little family of three, plus Rofert, was starting to get into a good rhythm.
The restaurant still looked like a construction site but the floors had been cleared of debris. There were no more stacks of half-broken and dirty bricks littering the space. An open concept was perfect for the restaurant and made for easier renovations. A contractor had built a wall inside with a swinging door for the cleanup area so dirty dishes wouldn’t be visible from the main cooking and dining area.
A lot of work still needed to be done, but damn if progress didn’t feel amazing. Chelsea had noticed that progress was everything. The destination was sweet, and every inch of progress toward a clear vision sometimes felt like she was already there.
Aunt Maddie had been a business owner and Chelsea felt a connection to her great-aunt through their entrepreneurial bond.
She tried not to think about the fact that it was Saturday night and she was alone working in her restaurant. She hadn’t once given a thought to working weekends. What was going on with her lately?
Nate Kent, that little voice in the back of her head pointed out.
It was an annoying little brat.
* * *
THE CALL CAME over the emergency response radio at one fifty-five in the morning.
“Fire at 2312 Main. All emergency personnel to respond.”
Nate scrambled out of bed and threw on his ready outfit of jeans and a pullover shirt that he kept draped over the chair next to his bed. He hopped on one foot trying to slip a sock on. While he was on his second sock, a bolt shot through him—2312 Main Street was the address of Chelsea’s restaurant!
It was the middle of the night. Surely she was home sleeping in her bed, he reasoned.
The dispatch continued. “A pickup with license plate BZWG 1234 is parked in front of the building. An unknown number of occupants is inside the building.”
Nate hopped into his boots, grabbed his cell and broke into a dead run toward his truck. He raked his fingers through his curls in an attempt to tame them. His truck was parked in the garage, keys in the ignition. He kept a bottle of mouthwash in the cup holder for just such occasions.
On the road, Nate took a swig of the mouthwash, rinsed and then opened the window to spit while at the four-way stop. Everything about this call was routine except that his gut was braided in a tight knot at the realization Chelsea could be in the restaurant, hurt.
He’d left her and her sweet family alone to avoid just that: anyone getting hurt. But the kiss they’d shared had burned its way into his thoughts and popped up at the most inopportune times. He’d finally returned Brenda Hunt’s call and agreed to a date to prove to himself that he could go out with someone and be fine.
The date had lasted half an hour before Brenda looked him square in the eye and asked, “Do you really want to be here?”
An honest question like that deserved a real answer. He’d spared her the “It’s me, not you” line even though in this case it was true. Brenda was an attractive brunette. There was no reason he shouldn’t have enjoyed her company. But the comparisons had crept in. All that date had told him was that he needed to spend some time alone.
The ranch had been keeping him busy and he enjoyed the long days and hard work. Calves were due to be born in a matter of weeks and keeping watch over the heifers gave him a sense of purpose.
Nate gunned the engine, pushing his truck to its limit, lights on. His rotating beacon drew circles against quiet street after quiet street. His pulse had shot through the roof and all he could think about was Chelsea.
Even in the dark, he could see the thick cloud of smoke. The flames licking toward the sky.
Fires were indiscriminate creatures that took on a life of their own.
They didn’t care about the wreckage left behind. There were no feelings in a fire. They didn’t care if they made widows and orphans.
Skylar’s sweet face popped into his thoughts.
And then Chelsea’s.
A sense of foreboding crept over him as he neared the scene. A fire truck had just arrived, based on the sound of the siren. Confirmation came on the radio a few seconds later.
Nate parked alongside the fire truck and bolted for the rig. He had his equipment on in a matter of minutes.
Details were being given over the radio but there wasn’t much other than the severity of the blaze.
A crew was working the hose, twisting off the fire hydrant cap at the corner and working quickly and efficiently to clamp on the hose. They had a steady spray going by the time Nate located his captain.
Nate already had his ax ready to go as he approached Steve Benton. “I’m ready to go in as soon as word comes.”
“What’s your rush?” Captain Benton asked.
“Chelsea McGregor is inside.” His voice was calm although he felt anything but.
“How can you be certain?” Benton asked.
“That’s her pickup. It would be just like her to pull an all-nighter to get back on schedule.”
“She might’ve gotten a ride home with someone. I’m not sending a man in there until I know it’s safe,” his captain said.
Nate blew out a sharp breath. “I know her. She’s in there. She has a daughter who needs her. If me going in means the difference between life and death for her, I’m willing to take the risk. I signed up for this job and I knew what I was doing.” Nate was emphatic.
Captain Benton studied him carefully. “As soon as I give the all-clear, you’ll be the first to go in. Right now we have a two-alarm fire and one engine to deal with it. The backdraft could take you and several others out if we tamper—”
“Like I said, I’m aware of the risks and I didn’t ask anyone to come inside with me.” Nate stood his ground. “I’m going in.”
Chapter Eleven
Chelsea heard a voice in the distance but she couldn’t move, couldn’t respond. If only she could open her eyes... Nate?
It was probably wishful thinking that had her hearing his voice. She wished he was there, wished she could see him. She’d thought about him more than she cared to admit while she’d worked. His deep timbre normally washed over her, stirring a physical reaction. This time, he sounded concerned, and her body had a different kind of reaction to him. It went on full alert.
She wanted to shout to him, to tell him where she was, to stop him from being concerned about her. There was so much noise drowning him out. Crackling and popping.
Chelsea took in a breath and choked on it. She coughed. Everything burned; her eyes, her nose, her throat. Her lungs clawed for oxygen but came up short.
Out of seemingly nowhere something was being placed on her face. Then someone’s arms lifted her like she weighed nothing. And then she took in a breath of air. She coughed like she’d just chugged water after being lost in the desert. Her lungs ached.
Time passed, Chelsea co
uldn’t be sure how much before she finally took in a real breath. She heard several male voices telling her to stay awake. All she wanted to do was to sleep. She fought the urge.
“Skylar needs you,” Nate said, his voice like a whisper in her ear.
Skylar’s image popped into Chelsea’s thoughts. She had to stay awake so she could get home to her daughter. Chelsea locked on to the thought.
By the time she could blink her eyes open, she was in the emergency room. Breathing still hurt and a headache threatened to split her head in two.
She forced her eyes to open and stay that way.
There he was, standing by her side, holding her hand.
“Nate—” Trying to speak caused a coughing jag.
“I’m here.” He bent next to her bed while a nurse called for the doctor.
“Well, hello,” the nurse said. “My name’s Willow. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”
Chelsea shook her head. She needed to get home. If word got home about the fire...damn, her restaurant had just gone up in flames. She’d cry if she could squeeze out a tear. Instead, she just felt deflated and drained of energy.
“It’ll be okay,” Nate reassured her, but he was wrong. Nothing was okay. Her livelihood had just gone up in flames. She’d been shopping around for insurance but hadn’t settled on a company yet. Her to-do list was scary long. She’d been making progress, knocking off item after item.
And now this. This.
“Don’t worry. Everything will work out.” Nate squeezed her hand, causing all kinds of inappropriate volts of electricity to rocket through her. All she could think about was her mother and Skylar. How would Chelsea support the two most important people in her life now? That little voice tried to point out that Nate felt pretty darn important. She quashed the thought before it could gather steam and fought to stay conscious. There was something else niggling away at the edge of her consciousness. What?
Working all night at the restaurant by herself to make up for lost time was a mistake. It had left her vulnerable and almost cost her life. She couldn’t imagine the fire had been an accident. If it had been set on purpose, who was to blame? This stunt went beyond trying to scare her. Her truck had been parked outside the restaurant. Was someone seriously after her? Had someone been watching her? Waiting for an opportunity?