by Christa Wick
“Nothing, Mama.” He shoved the phone into his jacket pocket, then straightened his sleeve. “Can’t a man check sports scores every now and then?”
“Not in the middle of the day on a Thursday, he can’t,” she huffed, bypassing the couch he sat on to turn on the television tucked in the corner of the room.
“Beef futures?” he drawled.
“Nice try,” Sage said, coming through the dining room doors. “Leah’s eating in the kitchen, so let me know if I need to take her to the playroom.”
The little girl was still in the process of getting past her mother and grandfather’s death. According to Siobhan, the toddler had been an emotional wreck while Barrett was gone during the fire season after Dawn’s death.
Lindy muted the volume as soon as the television turned on. She punched in a channel number by memory. The words Quinn had been dreading the last four days appeared at the bottom of the screen in blocky white letters.
FIREFIGHTER INJURED IN BLAZE WEST OF PIONEER JUNCTION
“I’m taking Leah to the playroom.” Sage nodded at Siobhan, “Text me what’s going on.”
Quinn didn’t need to ask if Pioneer Junction was close to where Barrett and his team were positioned. Siobhan had named the location just that morning. They were up on a series of ridges just outside the town, trying to keep the fire that had started in Kootenai National Forest from reaching any more population centers.
Lindy brought the volume up to a whisper, Quinn already standing by the woman’s side.
A petite, bubbly blonde provided the news update, her tone no different than if she was talking about the annual Elk Festival.
A member of a local smokejumping team was injured this afternoon…Hospital staff report he is in surgery with multiple fractures to his ribcage…Name withheld while authorities contact the man’s family…we go now to a conference with Chief Melpow, who reports that the fire has been contained. Most fire teams are being told they can go home.
Quinn pressed her palm to the wall, the rest of her body swaying.
Next to her, Sutton was busy holding his mother up.
Surgery…fractures to his ribcage…
Quinn didn’t need to ask if such injuries could be deadly. Images of a pierced heart or aorta clouded her vision. The better question was whether such injuries were not always fatal.
“Let’s get them to the couch,” Siobhan suggested, her voice taking on the same calm, professional tone she used at her dispatch job at the sheriff’s office.
She grabbed Quinn’s arm and coaxed her away from the television.
“There’s more than one team out there, Mama,” Sutton reminded Lindy as he settled her onto the couch. “And more than one man on Barrett’s team.”
Quinn clutched at Siobhan’s arm. “Where was that coverage from? Where is their ‘local’?”
“Butte,” Sutton answered. “There are teams from all the west coast states at Kootenai right now. Local could mean anywhere in Montana and just over the border in Idaho.”
Quinn turned a pleading gaze on Siobhan.
“Let me call dispatch,” the young woman scratched out.
“No need, Monkey Butt,” a rough voice called from the entry hall. “It isn’t my team on the news.”
Quinn stared at the hulking black form covered in sooty grime and dirt. Only the towering physique and voice were recognizable as belonging to Barrett.
“Didn’t hear a vehicle,” Sutton said, leaving his mother’s side to take his brother’s heavy duffel and help remove his fire jacket.
“Walked from the main gate. Winston felt a powerful need to get home and his driving showed it.”
Quinn stared, her body immobile. She wanted to run over and throw her arms around him, but the fear that had paralyzed her limbs earlier wouldn’t relinquish its iron grip. She could barely breathe, just stare and blink as Barrett eyed her with a wary gaze.
“That’s a ten-minute walk,” Lindy scolded. “Longer with the state you’re in. A call up to the house…”
“Battery’s dead, Mama.” Approaching the seating area, he stopped at the edge of the carpet.
“Barrett!” Leah squealed, arms out and her torso wiggling against the bear hug Sage had her wrapped in.
“You can squeeze him and kiss him all you want once he’s had a shower,” Sage said, carefully skirting her brother-in-law so he remained out of Leah’s reach. “In the meantime, he’s ready to eat a horse, so let’s go fix him one.”
“Not a real horse,” Leah admonished as Sage carried her toward the kitchen.
Following after Sage, Siobhan stopped just long enough to clear a grimy patch of Barrett’s cheek and plant a kiss.
“I’ll message Walker and Adler, then set the table,” she volunteered. “You should have just about enough time to wash all that stink off you.”
Muscles still frozen, Quinn watched the exchange.
She blinked, tears hitting her cheeks.
“Mama,” Barrett asked. “You’re not going to make me dirty up your rug, are you?”
Quinn’s fingertips bounced against her thighs as Lindy got up from the other couch and grabbed her son by the ears. “You boys, you’ve been going at this too long.”
“We always keep the Devil behind us, Mama.”
She shook her head, but stood on tiptoe and kissed the spot Siobhan had already cleaned. Turning to Sutton, she waved him over, hooked his arm and had him walk her to the kitchen.
“Quinn?” Barrett whispered.
She managed to bring her hand to her mouth, stifling the sob that would have had everyone running back into the room.
“I told dispatch to make sure Siobhan got a message each day and Siobhan knew to relay that message.”
“I got it,” she croaked around the shaky hand still covering her mouth.
They stayed silent. She didn’t know how to tell Barrett that her heart had cleaved in two not knowing if he was the injured man in the news report.
“Can you give me a hand?” he asked at last. “This stuff isn’t easy to get off the walls and I need a fresh change of clothes from my old room.”
With weak knees, she stood up, walked past him and headed down the hall. Stopping by the bathroom nearest his old bedroom, she opened the door all the way, turned on the sink faucet then left for his bedroom.
All of Lindy’s sons kept a room at their mother’s house. Sage and Adler lived there and Walker’s was redecorated to reflect the fact that it was now shared with Ashley when they stayed overnight. But Barrett’s bedroom still looked like it was lived in by a man a decade younger. She opened the closet door, an Army Airborne poster on its front, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Opening the top dresser drawer, she selected a pair of briefs and socks.
Even though they’d been showering in the same house for weeks, she had only seen him in his skivvies the one time when he stood outside his truck stripping down to put on the protective layer that went under the jumpsuit. Quinn hadn’t been blind to the contours of his body that day. She just hadn’t known how much the man would come to mean to her.
Everything, she thought with a rough swallow. Barrett was her whole world.
Returning to the bathroom, she found him in front of the sink, stripped to the waist, his face and hands mostly clean from all the scrubbing he had managed while she grabbed fresh clothes.
“There are some big trash bags under the sink. Can you get me one?”
He stepped out of the way and she pulled out a large black bag and held it open while he put the clothes he had already taken off into the bag.
“Close your eyes,” he teased.
She shook her head. “I’ve already seen you in just your chonies.”
He cocked a brow.
“Underwear,” she clarified. “It’s an L.A. thing. You jumped out of my truck, completely forgot I was there, and began to strip.”
His mouth puckered. “I couldn’t possibly have forgotten you were there.”
; It was Quinn’s turn to cock a brow. “So you were intentionally putting on a show?”
“Not really,” he grinned, the light over the vanity reflecting in his eyes. “Just that there’s no place for modesty in a fire emergency.”
“Fine,” she huffed and closed her eyes, her ears feeding her details as she heard the rustle of the bottom half of his suit coming off then the staticky wrinkling of the bag as he shoved the pants inside.
He took the bag away, tossing it behind him if she could trust the room’s sounds. His hands curled along her jaw and tilted her head up.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered.
Obeying, she stared into the verdant gaze, the color so deep she felt like she was looking into a never-ending forest, one she had gotten lost in at first and now wanted to claim as her home.
“I always come back, Quinn.”
Was that a promise? It was hubris if so. Barrett was a risk taker and a brave man. One day, probably to save someone else, he was going to pay a heavy price.
When that day came, Quinn would be dead inside.
“Always, Quinn,” he insisted, his mouth closing in on hers.
Her eyes swept shut as their lips made contact. Her hands landed on his bare waist, trailed lower to find more skin stripped free of its barriers to her touch. Her thumbs stretched to claim the prominence of his hipbones.
He teased her lips open. She wanted to lean into him, but his grip on her head kept her pushed back just a little. She wanted to open her eyes, to soak in the contours of his lean, rugged body, but the kiss was a drug.
His tongue swept in, slow, deliberate, teasing a whimper from her throat.
“Next time,” he murmured, ending the kiss. “Don’t stay on the couch. Every time I had room to stop and think, you were all that was on my mind, Quinn.”
“You were all I thought about, too,” she confessed, meeting his gaze and praying he could see the truth, see the things she was afraid to say for fear he might not truly feel the same.
“Good,” he smiled. “Now close your eyes, turn around and go so I can hop in the shower, eat a little supper and take you home.”
She really, really didn’t want to close her eyes. He planted kisses on each until they were heavy with need all over again. Then he turned her himself, put a hand on each side of her bottom, and propelled her out of the bathroom.
Floating on air down the hall, Quinn headed for the kitchen.
Chapter Fifteen
“Oh, my,” Siobhan cackled as soon as she turned from taking a large casserole pan out of the oven and her gaze landed on Quinn.
“To the sink with you,” Sage whispered, cupping Quinn’s elbow and guiding her away from Siobhan.
“What?” Quinn asked.
Saying nothing, just smiling, Sage wet a paper towel then scrubbed at Quinn’s jawline. Pulling the towel away, she showed Quinn the sooty marks before tearing off another sheet and repeating the entire process.
“Apparently his tongue wasn’t sooty when he kissed you,” Siobhan teased with a whisper. “Or he kept it in his mouth.”
Heat fanned across Quinn’s cheeks.
Sage winked at her. “Don’t worry, someday Siobhan’s going to be head over heels for some guy and we can be merciless with her then.”
“I wish,” the young woman pouted. “The men around Willow Gap are either dull, related to me, or my boss. It’s really imperative that you get that Viking doctor out here for the clinic or Emerson brings me some hunky FBI agent instead of Madigan on his next trip.”
“Whatever it is,” Sutton said, coming in to claim the casserole Siobhan had just taken from the oven. “Leave Madigan out of it.”
“Talk about head over heels,” Sage whispered as she softly bumped Quinn’s shoulder.
“Nothing’s wrong with my hearing, dear sister.”
Quinn smiled at the exchange. Sutton, Walker, and Barrett called Sage “sister,” and not just when they were taking her to task over teasing them. It was the same way with how the family treated Walker’s wife. She heard brotherly love every time they said it and when Lindy called the two women “daughter.”
Without fail, witnessing the affection these women had found with their husbands’ family made Quinn want to tear up.
Siobhan waited for Sutton to leave the room before she sidled up to Quinn. “He’s met the woman like once—”
“A little more than once,” Sage corrected. “He saw her at my wedding and Ashley’s. There was the time they both helped Ashley with her poaching investigation. And he visits Emerson in Billings.”
“You mean he visits Madigan by showing up at Emerson’s office,” Siobhan snickered then seized Quinn’s shoulders. “Now, let’s see if there’s any other evidence of just how much—”
Another timer went off, sparing Quinn further inspection or embarrassment. Sage asked her to get the milk pitcher while Sage grabbed the fresh-baked dinner rolls from the oven and, together, they headed into the dining room.
A few seconds later, Barrett followed, freshly showered and dressed in the clothes Quinn had retrieved from his room. Adler called from the entry hall that he was back.
With everyone gathered, Barrett pulled Quinn’s chair out, Sutton doing the same for his mother and cousin while Adler attended Leah and then Sage, sweetly kissing his wife’s neck before he slid into his chair at the head of the table.
As they did at every meal, they held hands, Lindy leading grace, thanking the Lord for the safety of her family. Barrett squeezed Quinn’s hand, his grip soft and warm. The simple contact made her chest swell and she squeezed back.
“Amen!” Leah called before her grandmother could reach the end of the prayer. Sweeping her legs under her, she rose up and stretched across the table for a roll.
“Leah,” Adler corrected. “I’m not having your daddy come back from Texas to see you’ve lost all your manners.”
Settling back in her booster seat, she folded her hands in her lap, her little mouth a pucker of sorry-not-sorry contrition.
With a wink at his oldest brother, Sutton picked up the plate full of rolls, dropped one on his plate then passed it to Sage, who let Leah pick one.
Pinching the bread, she pulled off a bite and popped it into her mouth. Her little face melted with a warm, doughy pleasure.
Quinn looked from the little girl to Barrett. His gaze locked on Quinn’s, Barrett slid his hand under the table to rest on her leg, the heat of his touch penetrating her jeans.
Siobhan clucked like an irritating hen just as the front doorbell rang.
Adler rose from the table. “I’ll get it.”
Barrett teased Quinn with a parting squeeze then grabbed his fork.
Sneaking another roll, Leah began to hum as she plucked it apart.
“Quinn…” Adler called, just his head and part of his shoulder sticking through the doorway.
His gaze slid to Barrett. “Both of you.”
Quinn stood up and left the dining room with Barrett. Worry lines etched her forehead as she tried to figure out who would show up at the ranch needing to talk to her—her and Barrett.
“Chief Finley,” Barrett said as they reached the hall to find a man somewhere in his fifties. He wore a white shirt with a black tie, a red patch over the right shirt pocket identifying him as being part of the county fire department.
“What can I do you for?” Barrett asked.
Quinn didn’t like the man’s gaze. It wasn’t that it was judgmental or hostile or anything like that.
It was regret, Quinn realized as his mouth flattened into a thin line, his head offering a nod in her direction.
“Needed to make sure everyone who might be out at Jasper’s was accounted for. Adler said your brother Sutton’s here, too. I guess I need to speak with him, as well.”
“I don’t understand,” Quinn said despite the awful certainty building in her stomach, a certainty that only grew heavier when Barrett wrapped an arm around her shoulder in an attempt to brace her against wha
tever the fire chief was about to say.
“We got a report of smoke up on the ridge…”
He shook his head, his face bunching up.
“You’re Leland’s father,” she said, matching the outlines of his face with those of one of the young ranch hands who had helped put on her new roof.
“Yes, ma’am. He was real proud of the work he did up there.”
Barrett’s arm tightened around Quinn’s shoulder. “How bad is it?”
“Completely torched. The house, a car with plates registered to Sutton, some kind of little trailer…even the outhouse.”
Sutton had come into the hall, quietly listening as the fire chief recounted the destruction they had found.
Quinn shook her head. “How could it spread like that? The trees are gone, the outhouse is fifty feet away, the trailer…”
The pace of her breathing accelerated as she spoke until she was panting. Barrett steered her over to a bench in the hall and sat her down.
“Lower your head,” he coaxed, his hand moving between her knees to separate them.
Sutton spit out the word that had already taken shape inside Quinn’s mind.
“Arson?”
“Looks that way,” the chief answered. “Definitely looks like an accelerant was used. Got a fire line running from the cabin to the car, another to the trailer. Probably gasoline.”
Quinn looked at Barrett for explanation.
“They were probably sloppy carrying the gas can,” he explained. “Or they intentionally let the liquid drip as they walked from the house to the car. Either way, the fuel burned a line where the gas was spilled.”
The chief shoved his hands into the pockets of black slacks.
“Either of you have an idea of who would do something this? Ex-boyfriend or girlfriend might not like how much time you two have been spending together?”
The sound that left Quinn was more bark than laugh.
“My dance card was empty when I left L.A.”
She kept shaking her head, her mind working to bury the possibility that this had anything to do with her life in California. She’d been so careful not to let anyone know where she was going or why.