Her Reluctant Hero: A Romantic Suspense Boxed Set

by MJ Fredrick

  She mimicked the expression. “You won’t be.”

  “All right, the reporter question.” He took a deep breath, another delaying tactic. This memory he didn’t want to revisit, but he’d started this, he’d finish it. “Why I hate reporters.”

  She drew one leg up and rested her chin on her knee. “You’re stalling.”

  He grinned. “I know.”

  “I think there’s a specific incident which caused this animosity, am I right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Pulling teeth here, Cooper.”

  “Okay.” He reached for his boxers on the floor, wanting just another moment. “Do you remember Angel Ridge?”

  “Howard told me you were there.”

  “Yeah, well, Howard has a big mouth.” This was not something he wanted to be discussing so soon after making love with her. The images—he didn’t want to sully the memory of Peyton with the memories of horrible death.

  While his reluctance was nothing new to her, she gave him a minute before pressing. “He wanted to help me understand you.”

  “So hearing this, it helps you understand me?”

  “It made you the man you are.”

  He couldn’t deny it. “All right. Anyway, Angel Ridge was a huge mess. The fire should have—could have—been put out days before. Do you know the story?”

  She nodded. “Fourteen died.”

  “The ones who escaped ran for their lives uphill. You know how it had to feel, you were there not long ago. Only they were running through brush and high grass. Shelters wouldn’t have saved them, there was no safety zone.”

  “Were you there?” she asked quietly.

  No, but he could see it, could feel their panic. Experienced firefighters, and they’d been trapped, just like he and Peyton had been. He shook his head. “Not on the mountain, not till it was over.”

  “Then you brought the bodies down.” Like he would later today.

  He rubbed his hands over his face, as if the movement could erase the memories. “That was the thing, or part of it.” He dropped his arms to his knees, letting his hands dangle, consciously keeping them loose, though the rest of his body was tense. “We couldn’t bring them down right away. We had to identify them, to reconstruct what had happened. It was grisly work. Have you ever seen a burned body?”

  “Pictures.” Her eyes hadn’t left him, but he couldn’t look at her and see her face superimposed over the images of death in his mind’s eye.

  He shook his head. “Not the same. There’s nothing left that’s human.”

  “And you knew these people?”

  The room was getting too small. He needed to get up and move, to get away from the questions that hurt too much to answer, so he pushed to his feet, walked to the window, stared out over the mist rising off the blacktop. Still, if he was the hero Peyton called him, the pain wouldn’t stop him. He reached for his shirt to occupy himself while he spoke.

  “One was a good friend of Jen’s and mine. I’d been to his house, met his family. The firefighting community isn’t very big.”

  “So you were a member of the team that reconstructed what had happened to these people you knew,” she summarized.

  “Yeah.” He glanced over, saw her hands fisted, her expression tight. She was living it with him. God, if he hadn’t already decided he could love her...but he didn’t want her there, not for any reason. He reached over and closed his hand over hers.

  “How did you get through it?” She studied him closely.

  Too closely. “One step at a time.” And even that had been too much.

  “Did reporters go up with you?” she asked when he leaned against the dresser and linked his hands behind his neck before he looked up at her, signaling he was ready to go on.

  “They were waiting at the bottom of the mountain, ready to pay for stories, pictures, anything they could get. Some of the pictures of the bodies that came out in the tabloids could only be from our investigation.” He dropped into the chair by the window.

  “Did you sell them a story?” She kept her voice carefully neutral.

  He brought his hands around, rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes. “I talked to a reporter. I didn’t take any money, but I didn’t watch what I said. My words came out twisted, and next to pictures of the bodies that devastated the families, so they assumed I’d sold the pictures, sold my story. I’d been angry when I spoke to the reporter, angry at the tragedy, at the BLM, at the Forest Service. But he took what I said and made it sound like something completely different.”

  “How did they twist it?”

  “Blame was flying all around at the time. Firefighters were blaming management, BLM was blaming the Forest Service, management was blaming firefighters. I came across as the firefighter blaming the other firefighters.”

  “Surely when you told everyone the truth—”

  He shook his head. “You of all people know how powerful the written word is, Peyton. The article cost me friends at a time when the community should have stuck together. So I don’t talk to reporters anymore.”

  “Then why do you suppose Jen assigned me to you?” she asked. “Therapy?”

  He laughed dryly. “I can’t figure it out, entirely. She doesn’t hate me, at least not anymore. Maybe to keep me out of her hair, since this is our first fire since the divorce. Or to keep you out of her hair.”

  “Did you ever make peace with your friends? The ones who turned away from you after Angel Ridge?”

  What, she thought he was that much of a loner? “Some of them. I didn’t want to have to beg them to believe me.”

  “Imagine that. You didn’t want to swallow your pride.”

  Damn, he loved her smart-aleck tone. “It’s not a good chaser to all the BS I’d swallowed.”

  It was her turn to laugh.

  “What else do you want to know?”

  She leaned back, regarding him with surprise. “Really? You’ll answer anything?”

  “Within reason.”

  “Why do you go back? After what you saw on Angel Ridge, after what almost happened to us, how can you go back? Why do you want to go up there today?”

  “Same reason I don’t think about what will happen when I can’t do this anymore.” He dug under the bed for his socks. “Because it’s bad luck.”

  “Worse luck than almost getting toasted?”

  He didn’t want to think about how close they’d come to cashing in less than forty-eight hours ago, how close he’d come to losing her. The pain of the realization stunned him for a minute, and he had to bring himself back to reality. “Hey, we were pulled out of there.”

  “By our singed bootstraps. Don’t give me anymore of those flippant answers, Cooper. I really want to know this.”

  Too close to the bone here. He needed to push her back from this topic she’d latched onto and he could think of only one way. “Because of what happened to Dan?”

  She whipped her head up. He actually watched her drag herself together before she answered. “I already told you that was the reason I was doing these articles.”

  He shifted toward her, intent to hear her answer, sick that he hadn’t seen it before. Just like Jen, she didn’t see the real him. “But is it the reason you’re sleeping with me? Am I a replacement for your dead husband, Peyton?”

  “Gabe—” She sat on her heels and gazed at him imploringly, but once spoken, the idea was too strong in his mind. How could she love him after only a few days? He had to be right about this.

  “Do you think about him when you’re with me? What about when I make love to you? Are you making love to him?”

  When she didn’t answer, only opening and closing her mouth, he sat and started pulling on his socks with brutal efficiency. “You told me you love me. I should have known. Damn it, I should have known better.”

  “What?” She grabbed his boots and holding them out of his reach.

  He tried to reach for them, then gave up. “It isn’t me you love. How could y
ou? You’ve only known me a few days.” And if Jen hadn’t been able to love him after four years...

  Now she leaned forward, her eyes dark with pain. He glanced away from it. His pain was too strong. He couldn’t deal with hers. He rolled away to get his pack together.

  “Do you really think I’m so shallow, I’d just replace one man with another?” she demanded.

  He couldn’t look at her. “I think you’re hurt and lonely. Isn’t that why you’re out here, why you’re doing these articles?” He gestured jerkily toward the door. “To fill the place Dan left behind? What better way than with a man who reminds you of him?” He reached for his boots. This time she didn’t fight him. Stopping at the door, he looked back at her.

  “It’s really too bad, Peyton. We could have been something. If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll go to the Fire Depot on my own.”

  He walked out, his throat tight, his eyes burning. His heart broken.

  Chapter Thirteen

  What the hell? Peyton stared at the door for a moment, then, grateful she’d dressed, followed him out. He stood beside the truck, patting his pockets for the keys. She ignored the asphalt biting her bare feet as she grabbed his arm, twisted him toward her.

  “Is this what you do? You open up to a woman and then push her away?”

  “Yeah, what I do.” He tossed his pack in the back of the truck and turned to face her, hands on his hips.

  “You think I didn’t know what I was saying. You think I don’t love you.” Surprise opened his expression, but she didn’t slow down. She couldn’t. “I wish to hell I didn’t, but I do. I know who you are and I love you anyway.”

  His expression closed again, his eyes drilled into hers. “Just what every man wants to hear. ‘I don’t want to love you but I do.’”

  Her mind reeling, she rocked back on her heels. “Surely you’re not ready to hear I want a happily ever after.”

  “Maybe I am.” But it was said in defiance, pure Gabe contrariness.

  She tucked her arms around herself, stepped away. “You have to understand how hard this is for me.”

  “Jesus, Peyton.” He swiped his hand over his hair, the gesture she’d seen when he was at his wits’ end. “It’s not supposed to be easy.”

  She blinked, needing to get it out in the open, something he didn’t like. Only when she understood his true feelings could she figure out what to do.

  She already knew what she wanted. “Is this something you want?”

  He stepped closer, catching her arm. His eyes cut to the open motel room door. “I don’t know what you think of me, but this is not what I do, sleeping with the women on my crew. I want something more now.”

  “I know.” She saw the truth in his eyes. “That makes it harder.”

  “Peyton.”

  He took her face in both his hands, his expression a longing matching her own, then released her and stepped back. What was he thinking? What did he want from her?

  What was she willing to give him?

  “Get your shoes on. We have to get going.”

  The Aerial Fire Depot, where the smokejumpers were based, was on the west end of the Missoula airport, long low white buildings with red roofs. Gabe’s gut clenched a moment as he remembered the time he’d spent here, before the inner ear problem had ended his jumping days.

  Maybe no one from that time was left. His emotions were tumultuous enough. Peyton had had the foresight to call them last night, and arrange this ahead of time so they didn’t have to talk their way into camp. They were expected.

  Peyton had ridden beside him in silence during the short trip. What was going through her mind? He couldn’t think about it now. Too many other things needed his attention, and they had a long trip ahead of them before he went back up the mountain.

  He parked the truck and turned to her. “Got your reporter hat on?”

  And then he saw the man who strode out of the barracks toward them. Ah, hell. Mike Gordon. He’d been an asshole as long as Gabe had known him, and time had not mellowed him.

  At least Gabe could keep him occupied as Peyton scanned the depot.

  “Gabe Cooper. Reduced to running a reporter around, huh?” When Peyton slid out on the passenger side, Gordon’s eyes widened, and he grinned. “Don’t blame you. You must be Peyton Michaels.”

  He ignored Gabe and walked around to shake Peyton’s hands, his eyes everywhere but her face. Gabe tensed, but was unwilling to give Gordon ammunition.

  “Thank you for seeing us,” Peyton said in a tone he hadn’t heard before, professional to the point of chilly. “I know with the Bounty fire you’re very busy.”

  “Someone has to keep an eye on the place while the others are playing hero. Right, Cooper?”

  Gabe didn’t answer, and Peyton didn’t react.

  “What is it I can help you with?” Gordon asked her.

  “We have some questions about Doug Sheridan.”

  “Ah.” Gordon eased back and assessed Gabe. “Now I understand why you’re here. He’s married to the honey who left you. I remember how tight the two of you were. Looking for some dirt on him, are you?”

  “Actually, just some background kind of information, how he does his job, how he gets along with other smokejumpers, what he does in his spare time,” Peyton replied, taking out the spiral she’d refused to use with Gabe. Like she needed a barrier now and hadn’t wanted one then.

  “Happy to. Want to get some coffee?”

  “Sounds good.” Peyton sent Gabe a glance. Okay, change in plans. She would keep Gordon busy and he would snoop around. He hated leaving her in Gordon’s company, but she could handle herself. Hell, she’d charmed her way into his life, hadn’t she? And he was almost as big of an asshole as Gordon.

  So he wandered. The camp was dead, most of the jumpers out on the fire, and he itched to be fighting it, too. Guilt that he wasn’t ate at him. Just a matter of hours and he’d be back.

  Bringing his friends down the mountain for the last time.

  He had to find out who set this fire, who killed those people.

  He moved from the common room, through the room where unpacked parachutes hung from the rafters, into the area where a red-haired smokejumper sat at an industrial sewing machine, repairing a chute. Gabe relaxed marginally and smiled at Kim’s brother, Kevin.

  “Hey, O’Doul.”

  The young man glanced up, brows drawn together in suspicion, but smiled when he recognized Gabe.

  “Hey, Cooper.”

  He shut off the machine and stood, reached across to shake Gabe’s hand. He wasn’t much bigger than Kim, but like her, pure muscle.

  “What are you doing here all by your lonesome? Everyone else out on a fire?”

  A grimace twisted the boy’s face, and he reached down to tug up a pants leg, showing a nasty third-degree burn. Gabe sucked his breath in through his teeth in sympathy.

  “I’m on medical leave for another week, then I can get out there and fight this monster.” “Where’d it happen?”

  “Out in California two weeks ago. Branch fell right where I was punching line. Didn’t even hear it.”

  Gabe hitched a hip on the edge of the table. “Kim didn’t say anything about it.” Of course, he hadn’t exactly been listening to her these days.

  The boy looked down. “No, I didn’t tell her, didn’t want her to worry. Don’t tell her, all right?”

  Gabe considered a moment, then nodded. Weird. Kim had a burn on her palm about the same age, not severe enough to bench her, but bad enough to blister. Burns were common enough in this line of work, even with their protective gear. Odd thing was, the Bear Claws hadn’t been on a fire at the time. She’d said it was a baking accident at her mom’s, the hot oven door or something. She’d laughed that she emerged most summers unscathed, but couldn’t survive an hour in the kitchen.

  “I’m not exactly one of her favorite people right now.”

  Kevin grunted in agreement, as if he’d heard it from the source. “She sai
d something about some reporter horning in on your crew and y’all being sidelined. Although I got the feeling she was more pissed about the reporter than the time off.”

  “You know Kim, always standing up for me.”

  “You could do worse.”

  Gabe didn’t know how well he hid his surprise at Kevin’s suggestion. “Christ, she’s young enough to be my daughter.” If he’d started very young, but still.

  Kevin leaned back, lifting a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. You both love fighting the dragon, you work well together. She’d do anything for you.”

  Okay, that was alarming. “That may sound good to young guys, but believe me. The last thing a man needs is a woman who does whatever he wants. He wants a woman who can challenge him.” His gaze drifted toward Peyton in the next room. He hadn’t realized quite how true it was.

  “Kim can be quite the challenge, believe me.” Kevin laughed.

  Gabe took advantage of the humor to laugh along, then change the subject. “We came”—he turned to indicate Peyton, still visible through the doorway to the common room—“to see what we could find out about Doug.”

  O’Doul’s face twisted in distaste. “The asshole.”

  “You think he did it?” Gabe was surprised by the vehemence. He’d expected to find support for Doug here.

  “They arrested him, didn’t they?”

  Just like a young guy to believe what he saw on the news. “They’ve arrested innocent people before, and they don’t have too much against him.”

  “No? What would they need besides what they got?”

  Gabe wove his fingers together, stretched them in front of him. “Motive. No one can figure out why he would do it.”

  “Lots of reasons. He’s a firebug, he needed the money, he wanted to get his wife in command.”

  Gabe shook his head. “None of those play for me.”

  O’Doul’s eyebrows lifted. “You hate the guy.”

  “Doesn’t mean I think he’s a killer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Four firefighters died yesterday. Whoever set this fire is a killer now.”

  O’Doul swore and looked down.