Cowboy to the Rescue

by A. J. Pine

  They’d been wrong.

  The throng of locals Oohed, snapping her back to the present. They weren’t looking at her, though. They were looking past her. So she gazed over her shoulder to find the supposed sexy redhead striding through her shop door and out onto the sidewalk, his three cohorts following close behind. While the other firefighters pushed through the crowd and headed back to the truck, Lieutenant Bowen did no such thing.

  When he saw her standing on the bench, he crossed his arms and grinned.

  “Are you gonna sing or something?” he asked. “And if so, are you taking requests?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  He thought he was so charming with those blue eyes and that one dimple that made his smile look a little crooked but at the same time really adorable.

  Again, all of the nopes. Men who played with fire were far from adorable.

  “Am I open?” she asked. Please say yes and then go away.

  “Open for business, Ms. Serrano. Though I think you’ll need to retire that pesky appliance of yours.”

  “You heard the man!” Ivy said. “We are open for business!”

  She hopped off the bench, slid back into her shoes, and held open the door, ushering much of the crowd inside.

  “So,” she said. “I was right?”

  He nodded once. “You were right. But it’s still my job to make sure.”

  “And it’s my job to sell the stuff in there, so I better head back inside,” she said. “Thank you, by the way. I know what you do is important. I just wish I could have caught the alarm before you all had to gear up and head over here.”

  He shrugged. “Beats pulling kittens from trees.”

  She laughed. He was funny. If he weren’t wearing all that gear and the uniform underneath… But he was.

  “You obviously haven’t met Mrs. Davis yet,” Ivy said. “She fosters kittens when she’s not at the bookshop. And she’s got a big old oak in front of her house. I’m sure you’ll hear from her sooner rather than later.”

  “I’ll consider myself warned.” He glanced up and down the street, then back at her. “So what do people do around here for fun?”

  Her brows furrowed. “I hear there’s a new firefighter in town who leads trail rides at the guest ranch. Maybe you can look into that.”

  He chuckled. “Checking up on me already, are you?”

  She brushed her hands off on her skirt. “Not sure how much you know about small towns, Lieutenant, but around here we don’t need to check up. Information is pretty easy to come by, especially when someone new takes up residence.”

  “Okay, then. When I’m not riding trails or saving kittens, what do you suggest? What are you doing tonight?”

  She shook her head. “Oh no. I don’t date firefighters.”

  He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “I wasn’t asking for a date, Serrano. Tonight’s my first night off since I got to town. Just figured if you were going out, it might mean you knew a thing or two about where someone might let off a little steam.”

  His warm breath tickled her ear, and a chill ran down her spine.

  “Midtown Tavern,” she said. “It’s the only place open after eight o’clock.”

  She didn’t wait for a response. Instead she headed into the safety of her shop and headed straight for the thermostat.

  It was getting hot in here.

  Chapter Two

  Even though he’d technically had a few nights off in his first week in town, as a new lieutenant—who’d beat someone on his team for the job—he wanted to hang around the station, get the lay of the land, and hopefully ingratiate himself to those who saw him as an interloper. Chief Burnett wanted to keep it under wraps who it was that lost the position to Carter. Regardless, things were tense. And it was never easy being the odd man out.

  He’d had a good job back home at the Houston Fire Department. It was the home part of the equation that made leaving so easy. There was nothing like a father who disapproved of your life choices. Carter’s solution? He left when opportunity presented itself.

  Now here he was, a stranger in a strange land who didn’t even have a place to live, which meant the firehouse bunk room was the closest thing to home for the time being.

  He checked his watch. It was six o’clock on a Saturday evening, and aside from a trail ride he was leading at the Meadow Valley Ranch tomorrow morning, he had the next forty-eight hours off.

  “Hey,” he said to Wyatt and Shane, the two guys on his team. “What’s the best place to go around here to get a burger and a beer?”

  “Midtown Tavern,” the two said in unison as they stared at the rec room television watching a baseball game that was not the Astros, so he didn’t care what it was. But it looked like the consensus was in on nightlife in Meadow Valley. He nodded his thanks to the other two men, whose gazes stayed glued to the screen.

  He shrugged, assumed the T-shirt and jeans he’d changed into was proper attire, and headed for the station’s front door.

  The sun shone over First Street like it was still high noon, which made it easy to spot his destination—right in the middle of the main block. He laughed. Midtown Tavern was quite literally mid town.

  He crossed the street and strolled past the inn. Pearl, the owner—and Carter’s great-aunt—had offered him a room when he’d first arrived in town, but he’d preferred the station. She was the reason he was here—the reason he’d learned about an opening for a new lieutenant and possibly part of the reason the chief had even considered an outsider, but both Carter and Pearl were doing their best to keep that under wraps until his one-month trial period was over.

  “Secrets don’t stay buried for too long around here,” Pearl had told him. “So make sure they all realize how good you are at doing what you do before they have a chance to claim favoritism.”

  Carter knew he was good at his job. Damn good. That was why the chief had brought him in and why he was in the running—along with the other lieutenant—to be the next captain when the chief retired in a couple of years. This was it. One false move, and he would have to start from square one again at another station. He couldn’t go back to his job in Houston. And truth be told, he needed this distance from home. Going back wasn’t an option.

  So he was bent on proving himself to everyone at the station, which meant no mistakes, no distractions, and no reason for anyone to say he got the job because of who he knew rather than because of his long list of qualifications.

  He passed the Everything Store and chuckled at the signs advertising a flash sale on vegetable peelers in one corner of the window and the release of a romance novel in the other corner.

  He sure wasn’t in Houston anymore.

  It might have looked like noon outside, but when he stepped through the doors of Meadow Valley’s Midtown Tavern, it was officially Saturday night.

  He grinned at the dark wooden tables and booths that framed a square bar in the center of the space. This was what he needed. A place to unwind and mix with the residents of what he hoped to be his new hometown.

  He grabbed an empty stool at the bar and cleared his throat to get the attention of the woman behind it. Her back was to him as she typed something into a cash register, so all he could see was the dark ponytail that swished across the back of a black T-shirt that said MIDTOWN SLUGGERS in a baseball-style yellow font. The pockets of her jeans were painted with what looked like pink lily flowers. Not that he was paying special attention to the pocket area of her clothing. The vibrant art simply drew his eyes.

  His eyes widened when she turned to face him, a receipt and a few bills in her hand.

  “Serrano,” he said. “And here I thought you owned a clothing store.”

  She smiled, not at him but at the older man on the stool next to him. “Here’s your change, Lonny.”

  The man waved her off. “Keep it, Ivy. Put it toward repairing the damage from the fire.” He shook his head. “Such a shame something like that had to happen on opening day.”


  Ivy leaned over the bar. “Nothing happened, Lonny. The shop opened. I sold a bunch of stuff. There’s nothing to repair, but I will accept your tip because I was an excellent server.”

  She brushed off her hands and turned her attention to Carter.

  “Evening, Lieutenant. Yes, I do own a clothing store. But sometimes I help out around here.”

  “You got a thing for flowers?” he asked, remembering the dress she was wearing earlier that day, the straps made of daisies. Or maybe it was she who stood out in his mind’s eye, and the memory of what she wore simply followed.

  Another woman sidled up to Ivy before she could answer, nudging her out of the way with her hip so she could get to the beer tap. “This is the new guy?” she said to Ivy while looking straight at Carter.

  “Sure is,” Ivy said.

  “You’re right,” the other woman said, blowing blue-streaked bangs out of her eyes. “Totally not as sexy as everyone keeps saying.”

  Ivy backhanded the other woman on the shoulder. “Casey!”

  Casey laughed. “Thanks for covering for me while I took that call. I’m good here, so you can—you know—punch out or whatever.”

  “You don’t pay me,” Ivy said, rolling her eyes.

  Casey finished pouring the beer and winked. “Yeah, but I let you drink for free. And I’ll add a bonus. You can take Dreamboat’s order.” Then she disappeared around the corner to deliver the drink to a patron on the other side of the bar.

  Ivy’s jaw tightened, and then she smiled what Carter guessed was her patented customer-service smile. “Yes, I like flowers,” she said matter-of-factly. “What can I get for you, Lieutenant?”

  “I’m off duty,” he said. “You can call me Carter.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Now, what can I get you, Lieutenant?”

  He laughed. She sure was determined not to like him, which was fine by him. It didn’t matter that he’d been attracted to her the second he’d hopped out of the truck in front of her store. He could have a drink, blow off a little steam, but that was it. No other distractions.

  “I’ll have whatever’s on tap,” he said. “How about you choose?”

  She grabbed a beer and filled it with a dark wheat beer, then slid it across the bar to him.

  “I didn’t call you a dreamboat,” she said. “Just for the record.”

  He nodded. “But there was talk of my sexiness, or I guess lack thereof?”

  She shook her head and gave him a haughty lift of her chin. “No. I mean, I just don’t get what all the fuss is about. So you’re cute in a uniform and can supposedly hold your own on a horse. It’s not like it’s newsworthy.” She looked around the bar and rolled her eyes. “Although not much happens in Meadow Valley, so I guess around here it is.”

  She poured another beer, then took a sip before setting it down. She glanced down each side of the bar, pursing her lips at the occupied stools.

  Carter cleared his throat. “There’s an empty stool right here.” He nodded to the vacant seat on his left. They could sit next to each other and have an innocent beer, right?

  She blew out a breath. “Yeah, I know, but—”

  “But there’s an empty stool. You obviously need a place to sit. You don’t even have to talk to me.” He took another pull of his beer. “I’m perfectly happy to drink alone.”

  Ivy groaned, set her beer down next to his, then disappeared the same way Casey had gone. A few seconds later she appeared next to him, hopped on the stool, and took a good long swig from her own mug as she stared straight ahead, not sparing him a glance.

  “This is good,” she said more to herself than anyone else. “Drinking alone, just me and my thoughts.” She sighed. “Me and myself.”

  Carter stifled a laugh. “You don’t do alone, do you?” he asked.

  She finally shifted her gaze to him. “I do alone just fine. Quiet, though. Quiet isn’t my thing.”

  He laughed out loud this time. “You’re in a noisy tavern.”

  She threw up her hands. “I’m a talker, okay? An extrovert. I get energized by being around others, by interacting with them. If I were sitting over there?” She pointed to the side of the bar on Carter’s right. “Lonny and his fishing buddies would be telling me all about what they caught today, and I’d tell them how the highlight of my day was not, in fact, the fire but the grand opening of my very own store.” She directed him to the row of patrons on the side to their left, a group of women who looked to be about the same age as his mom. “If I were hanging with the knitting guild, we could talk design and what kind of pieces I’m thinking of making for the store when the colder months roll in.”

  “But instead you’re stuck next to me,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Exactly.” She gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  But she did, didn’t she? And he should be relieved she wanted nothing to do with him, but instead he was—disappointed.

  “So you think I’m cute in my uniform?” he asked, brow raised. What was he doing? He wasn’t sure, but the urge to flirt with her just sort of took over.

  “Of course not,” she insisted.

  “Like, kitten-hanging-from-a-branch-in-Mrs. Davis’s-tree cute?” he added.

  “No one is that cute.” She snorted and took another sip of her beer. “By the way, I’m simply enjoying a drink after a long day. I know you weren’t asking me out earlier. This doesn’t mean anything. You just happen to be sitting next to the only free seat. So let’s just forget whatever this is.” She motioned between them.

  So they were in agreement. There was something between them. Something neither of them wanted, but something nonetheless.

  He laughed. “Wow. And here I thought your sunny disposition meant you were a people person.” He threw back the rest of his drink.

  “I am sunny…with the right company.”

  She buried her face in her mug, catching up with him.

  “Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “About as sunny as a box of kittens.”

  “You really have a thing for kittens, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Actually, I’m allergic. You were saying?”

  “I wasn’t saying anything, just that this isn’t anything more than two locals drinking a beer at a pub. My opinion of you in your uniform is irrelevant, as is what you think of me. Not that I’m assuming you think anything of me at all or that you’re any more or less attracted to me than I am to you. I’m not—by the way—attracted to you.” She rolled her eyes, but it seemed more at herself than at him.

  “Oh, I’m attracted to you, Ivy Serrano,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to date you.”

  Her mouth fell open, but she didn’t get a chance to respond. A second later, Casey appeared from around the corner carrying a liquor bottle and three shot glasses.

  “You know if I comply with your request, I’m enabling you, right?” Casey said.

  Ivy nodded. “But a fire on grand opening day. Of all things. It destroyed more than my fridge. Got my latest sketches too.”

  “The ones with the—”

  Ivy interrupted Casey’s question with another nod. The two women had a language all their own—an immediate understanding between two people who knew each other better than anyone else. He’d had a friend like that once. He also knew loss not unlike Ivy’s. How similar they were. If they’d met under any other circumstances… But they hadn’t. There was also the issue of her not exactly supporting his career. That was an automatic deal breaker no matter how attractive she was.

  Casey blew out a breath, lined up the three shot glasses, and filled them all with a light brown liquid.

  Carter lifted his glass and sniffed. “That is not whiskey.”

  Casey shook her head. “No, Lieutenant, it is not. It’s Ivy’s favorite, apple pie liqueur.” She groaned, then stared at her friend. “You know it actually pains me to say liqueur instead of liquor, right?”

  Ivy smiled. “I know. But it’s also how I know
you love me.” She lifted her glass, her big brown eyes softening as they fixed on Carter’s. “You know who my family is, which means you also know I have nothing but respect and admiration for what you and everyone else in that firehouse does. You save kittens and you save lives, and that’s a really big thing. But you also risk your own lives, and I’ve already lost enough for this lifetime.”

  Casey grimaced at her shot glass. “She, Charlie, and I used to sneak this crap from her parents’ liquor cabinet when we were teens. My tastes matured. Hers have not.”

  “To Charlie,” Ivy said, and Carter guessed her brother was exactly the reason why she still drank the stuff he couldn’t believe he was about to drink. Despite bad timing and the surety that nothing could happen between him and Ivy Serrano, he couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread through him at being included in such an intimate act—toasting a loved one who’d been lost in the line of duty.

  “To Charlie,” he and Casey said together. Then all three of them drank.

  The gravity of the moment was quickly lost once his taste buds caught on to what was happening.

  “That was terrible,” Carter said.

  “I know,” Casey replied.

  “One more!” Ivy exclaimed.

  Casey shook her head but poured her friend another. Ivy quickly threw back the shot, narrowed her eyes at the almost-empty bottle, then snatched it from her friend.

  “Serrano…” Casey said with brows raised.

  Ivy looked at her imploringly, her brown eyes wide and her lips pressed together in an exaggerated frown.

  Casey relented, and Ivy poured and drank the remaining shot.

  “Something stronger for you?” Casey asked him. “She doesn’t usually drink like this,” she whisper-shouted with one hand covering her mouth.

  “I don’t usually drink like this,” Ivy parroted, her eyes narrowed at her friend. “But today kinda caught me off guard.” She turned her attention to Carter. “Anyway, three is good luck, right?”