12-Alarm Cowboys
Page 1
12-Alarm Cowboys
A Twelve Novella Box Set
Cora Seton | Becky McGraw | Cynthia D’Alba | Delilah Devlin | Beth Williamson | Donna Michaels | Lexi Post | Elle James | Paige Tyler | Sable Hunter | Randi Alexander | Sabrina York
12-Alarm Cowboys
After the Fire
Copyright © 2015 Cora Seton
Where There’s Smoke
Copyright © 2015 Becky McGraw
Saddles & Soot
Copyright © 2015 Cynthia D’Alba
Controlled Burn
Copyright © 2015 Delilah Devlin
His Firefly Cowgirl
Copyright © 2015 Beth Williamson
Her Volunteer Cowboy
Copyright © 2015 Donna Michaels
Cowboy’s Match
Copyright © 2015 Lexi Post
Hellfire, Texas
Copyright © 2015 Elle James
Rekindled
Copyright © 2015 Paige Tyler
Texas Wildfire
Copyright © 2015 Sable Hunter
Hot in the Saddle
Copyright © 2015 Randi Alexander
Come Hell or High Water
Copyright © 2015 Sabrina York
EPUB Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Box Set Contents
After the Fire by Cora Seton
Where There’s Smoke by Becky McGraw
Saddles & Soot by Cynthia D’Alba
Controlled Burn by Delilah Devlin
His Firefly Cowgirl by Beth Williamson
Her Volunteer Cowboy by Donna Michaels
Cowboy’s Match by Lexi Post
Hellfire, Texas by Elle James
Rekindled by Paige Tyler
Texas Wildfire by Sable Hunter
Hot in the Saddle by Randi Alexander
Come Hell or High Water by Sabrina York
After the Fire
Cora Seton
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After the Fire
Copyright © 2015 Cora Seton
Published by One Acre Press
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Author’s Note
After the Fire is a stand-alone novella set in the fictional town of Chance Creek, Montana. If you like After the Fire, you’ll love my other works set in Chance Creek.
Other works by Cora Seton
The Cowboys of Chance Creek Series
The Cowboy Inherits a Bride (Volume 0)
The Cowboy’s E-mail Order Bride (Volume 1)
The Cowboy Wins a Bride (Volume 2)
The Cowboy Imports a Bride (Volume 3)
The Cowgirl Ropes a Billionaire (Volume 4)
The Sheriff Catches a Bride (Volume 5)
The Cowboy Lassos a Bride (Volume 6)
The Cowboy Rescues a Bride (Volume 7)
The Cowboy Earns a Bride (Volume 8)
The Heroes of Chance Creek Series
The Navy SEAL’s E-mail Order Bride (Volume 1)
The Soldier’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 2)
The Marine’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 3)
The Navy SEAL’s Christmas Bride (Volume 4)
The Airman’s E-Mail Order Bride (Volume 5)
The SEALs of Chance Creek Series
A SEAL’s Oath
A SEAL’s Vow
A SEAL’s Pledge
A SEAL’s Consent
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Chapter One
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“It was just a grease fire! You all didn’t need to come out here.”
Adam Carter flipped up the plastic shield of his firefighting helmet and stared down at the pretty blonde who stared back up at him angrily. The rest of his response team milled around them, making sure they’d fully extinguished the fire in Brynn Price’s kitchen.
Brynn was as feisty as she’d ever been in high school, back when she’d been Brynn Nelson. As beautiful, too. She’d grown into her blue eyes, pert nose and shapely body. Her legs had always seemed a mile long. That hadn’t changed.
Dressed in cut-off jean shorts, a strappy t-shirt and slate-blue cowboy boots, she could be Miss July on a feed-store calendar. But Brynn was smart as a whip too, which is why he didn’t know why she stuck with Chris Price, the orneriest two-timing cheat there ever was in Chance Creek. Or why she still worked at the grocery store in town instead of going to college and getting ahead in the world. He’d stayed in town, too, of course—working on the ranch with the rest of his family like he’d always known he would. Firefighting provided all the excitement he needed and he loved Montana too much to move away.
“Any time your neighbors report smoke pouring from your windows, I’ll be here. You can count on that.” It was his job to put out fires in Chance Creek, after all—a job he took even more seriously than ranching. He’d always taken Brynn’s safety seriously, too. Ever since she’d gone on exactly one date with him back in their school days and recounted all the accidents she’d ever been in.
Her list was long. Too long, although several of the accidents sounded more like negligence on the part of her parents than true bad luck. He knew Lorenna and James Nelson. They worked hard and attended the same church his parents did, but Lorenna liked her wine a little too much, James liked his whiskey—and loved flooring the gas pedal on his old Chevy. Brynn had the scars to prove it. So had her sister, Netta, before she left town five years ago and never came back.
On that one and only date he’d kissed the scar on Brynn’s hairline where she’d hit the windshield one winter night in eighth grade. Her family’s story was that a deer had bounded in front of the family truck, but Brynn confided there’d been no deer, just James driving too fast and losing control.
He’d kissed the scar on her wrist from when her mother stormed out of the living room during a fight with James, pushed Brynn out of the way and Brynn had tripped, putting her hand through the glass coffee table. And the one on her knee from when a guest dropped a steak knife on her at a rowdy Fourth of July backyard barbeque.
“Stick with me and I’ll keep you safe,” he’d promised her and kissed her on the mouth with all the passion and sophistication of a sixteen year old, hating the idea that she’d been hurt so many times. She’d kissed him back and his heart had beat double-time. He’d thought he’d finally come into his own: he was going to be Brynn Nelson’s boyfriend. The boyfriend of the prettiest, smartest girl in town.
“No one can keep me safe,” she’d said when they finally pulled apart. “Don’t bother trying.”
She’d never gone out with him again. And he’d asked her plenty of times.
He came back to the present and looked around the smoky room. Despite the fan belts sitting on the counter and a pair of Chris’s dirty coveralls thrown over a chair, the place was spotless. Brynn liked things clean—always had. He suspected it was the way she’d kept her family’s chaotic drama at bay. A calendar hung on the wall, open to June, the current month. The upper half featured a tractor. On the lower half, someone had drawn an X through each day that had passed. He narrowed his eyes when he took in the blank
days ahead. The following Thursday stood out because there was a blue splotch on it—someone had begun to write something in, then crossed it out with a ballpoint pen. An appointment? A birthday?
Not Brynn’s. Hers was September twenty-fifth.
“Well, you’ve done your boy scout duty.” She scowled at him. “Run along, now.” Behind her, Chris wandered into the kitchen. He was long and lean, his muscles cut from time in the gym and—Adam suspected—steroids, but his gut was beginning to bulge in a way that hinted at the beer belly to come. Adam assumed alcohol and steroids weren’t the only substances Chris used on a regular basis. Chris was mixed up in all kinds of things Adam didn’t condone.
Adam didn’t budge. He wasn’t sixteen years old anymore. Back then he’d been too much in awe of pretty Brynn Nelson to contradict her. He would have given all he had to try to protect her, but in the end she’d been right; no one could keep her safe because she was her own worst enemy. Instead of choosing to be with a man who would cherish her, she’d left her parents’ rough and tumble household to marry Chris, who drank, took drugs, played the field and didn’t lift a finger to help pay the bills. Brynn didn’t belong with Chris, but she thought she did. She thought Chris was all she deserved.
She thought wrong.
“I’m afraid I have to ask you a few questions. Just like last time.”
“I’ll answer the questions.” Chris elbowed Brynn out of the way and looked Adam up and down belligerently.
Adam wrinkled his nose. “How much have you had to drink, Chris?”
Chris pulled a flask of whiskey out of his back pocket and took a swig. Held it out to Adam. “A lot.”
Brynn made a disgusted sound. “Put that away, Chris.”
“I can’t drink on duty,” Adam said. “Another time.”
“Your loss. Fire away with those questions.” Chris laughed at his own joke. “Fire away…that’s a good one.”
“Yeah, that’s funny.” Brynn turned to go.
“Brynn, you stay a minute. I need to talk to you, too.”
She folded her arms over her chest and waited. Adam knew that behind her anger was shame. He’d seen her act the same way when her parents attended school events already well into their cups. Fiercely loyal to her family, she wouldn’t say a word as they stumbled into the school auditorium late, laughed too loud, and embarrassed her in front of her friends. Now she was re-enacting the pattern with Chris. Adam burned to take her away from all of this. Why had she only given him one chance when she was content to give Chris a hundred?
“What was going on when the fire started?”
“It was a grease fire! What do you think was going on?” When Adam merely cocked an eyebrow, Brynn went on. She spoke slowly, as if he was too idiotic to follow her words. “We were cooking dinner. Bacon. For BLT’s.”
“Were you watching the stove?”
Brynn looked away. Adam narrowed his eyes. Now they were getting somewhere. Brynn tended to be as careful as the people around her were reckless. She wouldn’t leave a hot stove without a reason.
“Did something distract you?”
Two spots of color blazed high in her cheeks. Chris began to chuckle, an unpleasant sound. “Tell the man, darling. What distracted you?”
Adam suddenly wished he hadn’t questioned them together. Something was going on here. Something not right.
Chris moved behind Brynn and wrapped his arms around her possessively, his hands resting on her waist. “You were showing me a good time, weren’t you honey?” His fingers splayed over her hips and he pulled her back against him. “She’s a lousy cook,” he said to Adam, then let her go and slapped her hard on the ass. “But she’s good where it counts. Real good.” He stepped back. “I think we’re done with those questions. You boys have a nice night.”
If Brynn hadn’t been standing there, imploring him with her eyes not to react, he would have decked Chris and kept on punching him until the man was nothing but pulp. He knew that would only make things worse for Brynn, though. As it was, her color was high, her eyes bright with shame. His fingers clenched but he knew this wasn’t the way to help her.
He was going to help her, though. Whether she wanted him to or not.
Jacob Monk cleared his throat behind him and Adam remembered he and Brynn weren’t the only ones in the room. Chris had humiliated his wife in front of everyone, the bastard. “We’re all set here.”
“Good. I need another drink.” Chris ambled back into the living room.
“I’ll be out in a minute. You all go ahead,” Adam said to Jacob and turned back to Brynn. “Are you going to be okay?”
She put her hands on her hips in a show of bravado. “What’s it to you? Don’t you have your own woman to worry about?”
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
Something flared in her eye. Something like… relief. Adam frowned.
“Well, go on, get out of here—your buddies are waiting.” She nodded to the door.
“Brynn—you don’t have to stay with—”
Her brows lowered and suddenly she was furious. “Get out, Adam. Now.”
Brynn watched the fire truck pull away from her driveway and wind on back toward town. Adam was just as handsome as he’d ever been—and entirely off limits. Brynn had first noticed him in fifth grade when he still cared far more about sports than girls. His best friend at the time had been Steve Hill, a small, bookish boy who tended to wince when a baseball came within three yards of him. All through that spring the boys at Chance Creek Elementary played ball at recess, and every single day Adam said the same thing. “If you pick me, you pick Steve.” Since Adam hit more home runs than the rest of the boys combined, Steve played a lot.
Brynn had envied Steve his protector. If only someone would stick up for her and Netta at home like that, maybe her parents would stop drinking so much and there’d be money for music lessons or new clothes. Maybe they would stop throwing so many parties and she and Netta wouldn’t have to barricade themselves in their bedrooms or risk strangers waking them up in the wee hours “just to chat.”
Maybe she’d feel worthy to date a boy like Adam.
By the time he noticed her back she’d been far too ashamed of her family to say yes when he asked her out. She’d made a plan and meant to stick to it. She’d graduate with honors, get a scholarship to college, leave Chance Creek and her parents behind her and start over again far away.
But Adam was tenacious and she’d finally given in and gone on a date with him.
Just one, though.
Up close he’d been even more handsome. Away from their friends they’d found lots to talk about, and in the space of dinner, a walk down Main Street, the wait before the movie started, and the drive home, they covered everything from their favorite bands and television shows to their hopes and aspirations—and their deepest secrets.
“I love Chance Creek. I’m going to stay right here,” he confessed. “I’ll ranch with my folks, but I’m going to fight fires, too.”
Her heart had throbbed with pain. That was that. If Adam planned to stay in Chance Creek, she could never go out with him again. Her heart breaking, she told him about all the accidents and hoped Adam would understand why she had to leave. He’d kissed her everywhere she’d been hurt as if that could cancel out the pain. It almost had. When he kissed her on the mouth she’d nearly lost her resolve. His touch electrified her but no matter what he said or did, Brynn knew she couldn’t be with him. She’d made herself pull away finally and she’d stayed away from him ever since, but Brynn still ached for Adam.
And she still couldn’t be with him.
“He’s as stuck on you as he was in high school,” Chris said from behind her, bringing her back to the present. “Pathetic.” He crossed the room and opened the fridge to grab a beer. “Better get another case tomorrow. We’re low.”
“Write it on the list.”
“Like hell I will. That’s your job.”
What’s your job? she wanted to sa
y. Instead she glanced at the calendar on the wall. Seven more days. Seven more god-awful days of living with Chris. Of wearing his name like a chain around her neck. Then she’d be free.
But she had to make it through those seven days without Chris knowing that anything was going to change. “Fine. What do you want for dinner? This bacon is done for.”
“Well, since dinner’s going to be late, it had better be extra good. And don’t think I’ve forgotten what we were doing when we were so rudely interrupted. You’re going to finish what you started.”
Brynn didn’t answer that. She’d never slept with Chris Price. Not even once. He’d tried to make that part of the bargain up front, but she’d let him know that was where she drew the line. She’d support him on her lousy grocery clerk salary. She’d cook and clean and wash his clothes. She’d be a wife to him in everything—except between the sheets. Chris found his fun elsewhere and enjoyed his work-free, lazy-ass lifestyle.
Until now.
She wasn’t sure what had changed. Had someone figured out their unusual deal and made fun of him? Did he think she’d spilled the beans about their lack of relations to a friend?
Or did he know his time was running out?
She prayed to God it wasn’t the latter. If it was, she was in trouble. So was Netta. She hadn’t seen or spoken to her sister in nearly five years. Not since the night of the fire, when she’d scooped Netta up off the street in front of the old Chance Creek Five and Dime, shoved her in the family’s GMC truck and driven her to Billings. She’d dropped Netta off at the Greyhound station, given her seven hundred and fifty dollars—every penny she’d saved—and told her to run like hell and never come back.
Netta never had.