by Liz Isaacson
“When did you let him out?”
“A few hours ago. Then we started a movie, and I forgot about him.”
Brennan sighed, though he wasn’t really too upset. “I’ll be right over, Gramps. Maybe get out some cheese and sit on the front steps. Maybe he’ll come back when he smells the treat.”
He hung up and shoved his phone in his back pocket before looking back at Sybil. “I’m headed over to find Pops. Want to come?”
Sybil didn’t even open her eyes, which Brennan took for a no, thank you, I’m snoozing right now. He chuckled and headed out to his truck. The sun had gone down an hour ago, leaving the temperatures to cool a bit.
He arrived at his paternal grandparent’s house to find Gramps sitting on the front steps, whistling for Pops and waving around a bit of cheese to no avail.
“Nothing?” Brennan asked, though he hadn’t really thought his suggested method would bring back the little dog.
“I can hear ‘im barking,” Gramps said. “But he doesn’t come.”
Brennan cocked his head to listen. “Whistle him again.”
Gramps’s weathered whistle lifted into the night air, and sure enough Pops’s equally hoarse bark sounded…somewhere.
Brennan twisted back to the house. “Gramps, he’s inside.” He got up and helped his grandpa stand. He held the screen door open while Gramps stepped inside, the barking becoming a bit louder.
“Grams?” he called.
“Oh, she went to bed,” Gramps said, shuffling forward. “I think she’s secretly hoping Pops will wander off and that’ll be the end of him.” He continued to mutter as he went into the kitchen.
Brennan headed downstairs to the basement, where his grandparents didn’t go anymore in their advanced age. As a boy, Brennan had loved coming to sleep over at his grandparent’s house. They knew his name. They remembered his favorite foods, and asked him about his science classes. Gramps had never missed a science decathalon competition, and Brennan had grown up believing that while he was constantly overshadowed in his core family, he was Gramps and Grams’s favorite grandchild.
“Pops!” he called, stepping onto carpet at the bottom of the stairs that hadn’t experienced a footprint in a while. The dog yapped and scratching came from behind the door to Brennan’s right. He used to sneak down here in the summer, right into this storage room, where Grams kept popsicles in stock.
He pushed open the door and almost got plowed over by Pops. “What’re you doin’ down here?” He scooped the schnauzer into his arms. The fifteen-pound dog quivered, but Brennan went into the storage room and opened the freezer.
Several cartons of ice cream sat there, as well as three bags of popsicles. A grin popped onto his face, his plans to stop by every day for a treat blooming fully in his mind.
But he’d eaten enough at the karaoke bar to put a small pony out of commission for a while, so he simply closed the freezer, closed the door behind him, and took Pops upstairs.
“Here he is.” He handed the dog to Gramps, who fed him the bite of cheese as he reprimanded him for wandering off.
Brennan exhaled as he sat at the bar. “So, Gramps, I met a woman today.”
Gramps looked at him, his eyes bright and blue and boring right into Brennan. “Oh? I thought you said Brush Creek was a…what did you say?” He pretended to think and Brennan simply waited, his lips twitching the slightest bit.
“Oh, I remember. A barren wasteland when it came to women.”
“It is. I don’t want to go out with someone I grew up with.” He was way past that stage. Most people who’d grown up together in Brush Creek had already gotten together. He wasn’t suddenly going to be interested in Mindy Lee just because they were both still single.
“So who is she?”
“Her name’s Cora. She’s a firefighter. Been in town about a year.”
“And you’re just now meetin’ her?”
“Yep. At the karaoke bar.” Brennan spent most of his time with mowers and blowers, so yeah, he’d missed her arrival in town. In the fifteen seconds he’d had to ask Kent about her, he’d learned she’d been in town for a year and was interested in anyone who wasn’t a fellow firefighter.
He fit the bill, and he was sure his obsessive staring had been enough to show his interest in her.
“I don’t like the karaoke bar,” Gramps said, his frown creating deep lines in his wrinkled face.
Brennan chuckled. “I know, Gramps. I know.”
His phone vibrated and then sounded, and he pulled it out to look at it. “Unknown.” He frowned, wondering if he’d look like Gramps in fifty years. He glanced up to find the old man watching him. “Should I answer it?”
“Could be Cora,” Gramps said, but Brennan shook his head.
“It won’t be Cora.” She wasn’t the type to give out her number and then call him. She’d make him come to her. Brennan made a quick decision and swiped open the call. “Hello?”
“Is this Brennan Fuller?” a woman asked. Music played in the background, almost like she was still at the karaoke bar.
“Cora?”
“Yeah.” She giggled, an intoxicating sound that sent Brennan’s pulse into a tailspin. “I was wondering if you could get together sooner rather than later. We probably need to go over a few things if you’re to be my boyfriend next weekend.”
Brennan shot to his feet. “Boyfriend?” He wished his voice wasn’t quite so high and squeaky. Turning away from Gramps’s curious gaze, he hissed, “No one said anything about me being your boyfriend.”
Chapter Three
“Why do you think I’m calling?” Cora asked, pacing away from the karaoke bar. For the first time since she’d moved to Brush Creek, she wanted to go back inside. But the texts with Helene had intensified, and then Charlie had taken her phone and sent a few messages without her consent.
Before she knew it, Helene thought the man she was bringing to the family anniversary party was her boyfriend. A very serious boyfriend. A boyfriend who had mentioned diamonds.
Cora pressed her eyes closed and wished with everything in her that she hadn’t let her stupid firemen friends take over her phone. But she was in too deep now, and Kent had given her Brennan’s number.
Brennan was so silent for so long, she wasn’t sure if he was still on the call. “Well?” she asked. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?”
“Uh, my sister hasn’t texted me yet. But I’ll probably be at the rec center.”
“You get your schedule from your sister?”
“Yeah, my family runs a handyman business. We do housecleaning, landscaping, painting, whatever you need. It’s called A Jack of All Trades, and Wren manages the schedule for all of us.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m usually free in the evenings.”
Cora couldn’t wait until evening. She had to prep this man she barely knew to meet her very inquisitive mother and sister, and she only had seven days to do it. Seven days. Panic clogged her throat. She might as well give up now. There was no way she could spend enough time with Brennan to make her family believe she’d been dating him long enough to be talking marriage.
The idea was laughable anyway, something she’d very sternly pointed out to Charlie. He’d laughed and said, “Oh, come on, Cora. You’ll settle down eventually, won’t you?”
She hadn’t answered, instead, grabbing her phone and stalking out to the parking lot to make this call.
No, she didn’t want to settle down. Brush Creek wasn’t a permanent stop for her. It was an outlying town in a huge fire zone. It was a place she could get the experience she needed to put on her hotshot application. Though she wasn’t particularly religious, she’d found herself praying for big wildfires in the wilderness surrounding Brush Creek, just so she could have some experience beyond a small ditch fire or a backyard barbeque gone awry.
“What about lunch?” she asked, opening her eyes and looking up to the stars. “I could just hang out with you while you work. I can mow a lawn or move dirt or whateve
r you’re doing.”
“Oh.” The surprise in his tone wasn’t hard to find. “I—I—”
“Maybe you can text me where you’ll be, and when, and we can…talk.” Her stomach coiled like a snake ready to strike. She wanted to believe she could get by at the party by disclosing to Brennan her favorite foods and colors, but she knew she’d have to tell him more than that.
Her throat felt like someone had poured acid down it. She’d have to tell him about Brandt.
“Uh, yeah, okay,” Brennan said. “I’ll text you.”
“Great.” Cora took a deep breath. “Things have gotten…a little out of hand with my family. It’s just one party. Next Saturday. It’ll probably take your whole day.” If he was working tomorrow, maybe he wouldn’t be able to come next weekend.
“I can get it off,” he assured her. “I can do one party.”
“I’ll give you all the details tomorrow,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I was willing to go with you before, and that hasn’t changed.”
Cora nodded and said, “Great, see you tomorrow,” before hanging up as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to blurt out that they’d have to hold hands and possibly kiss at the party. He probably wouldn’t want to come then.
She sighed and turned back to the entrance to the karaoke bar. Although…. She relived the moment they’d looked at each other, and she couldn’t believe that tether had only been present for her. He’d felt something too. Something strong enough to get up while she was singing and go talk to his old pal Kent.
Cora had said she’d be right back, but she headed for her bike instead. No text needed. Kent and Charlie had done enough for one night anyway. Maybe it would do them some good to think they’d caused her enough distress to run her off.
She swung her leg over her motorcycle and stuck the key in the ignition. Summer provided such freedom for Cora, and she fastened the strap of her helmet under her chin and set the bike north up the hills toward the strawberry fields instead of south toward her apartment down by the high school.
The cool darkness swept past her, pulling at her ponytail and releasing all of her pent-up anxiety. She’d moved to Brush Creek the weekend following the family anniversary last year, and she’d only been back to Vernal a few times over the past twelve months. Enough to show her family she still loved them. But not often enough to cause her mental distress.
The awkwardness she could expect to feel with her happily married sister and her equally blissful older brother crept upon her again. She simply didn’t fit now that she was divorced and fully focused on getting a coveted and respected spot on an interagency hotshot crew.
There were only twenty spots per crew, and Cora desperately wanted one. She’d put in an application two years ago—the last time the open applications were being taken—and she’d been passed over time and time again. She’d relocate if she had to. Heck, she’d do anything if it meant she could get a spot on a hotshot crew.
She tipped her head back, increasing her speed until the headlamp on her motorcycle could barely show her what was coming before it came. With the speed, and the cold air, and sheer thrill of darkness surrounding her, her mind finally quieted.
By the time she returned to her apartment, she was ready to focus on her next problem: Brennan Fuller. As she bent to pick up her two American shorthair cats, Queenie and Cornelius, she wondered if they’d even be compatible enough to make it through a five-hour party.
Pippa, her great dane, bellowed a bark at her. “I know,” she said. “I’m in real trouble.” After all, she could barely make it through a five-hour party, and it was her own family. No way Brennan could survive that.
She filled food bowls and refreshed water, ignoring the sloppy way Pippa lapped like it was her first time drinking, and retreated to her bedroom. Her mind revolved through conversation topics for tomorrow, with facts she’d need to know about him for when her mom and sister pulled him away from her and began questioning her mercilessly.
A moan pulled through her throat, and she laid awake for a long time, wondering what she’d gotten herself into.
Cora woke to three texts from Brennan. He was indeed going to be at the recreation center for most of the day, weeding flower beds, trimming bushes, and barking “everything that isn’t grass.”
Cora didn’t bother showering. Wasn’t worth her time or effort if she was going to be spending the day outside with shears and wheelbarrows.
And a handsome man.
Fine, Brennan was pretty fine to look at. He’d seemed nice enough, and Kent had had nothing but good things to say about him. Apparently they’d grown up in Brush Creek together.
Cora arrived at the rec center at eight o’clock sharp, wondering which truck in this cowboy town belonged to Brennan. Doing landscaping and yard work as he did, he’d surely own a truck. She eyed a huge silver thing with wheels almost as tall as her as she crossed the lot toward the main entrance. Didn’t seem like a truck Brennan would own, but how would she know?
She bypassed the front doors, spotting four bags of bark lying in the grass near some shrubs. Definitely on the right track to finding the man whose life she needed to memorize as quickly as possible.
Rounding the corner, she ran smack dab into something solid and covered with denim and gray cotton.
“Oof,” Brennan said, catching her around the waist before she could rebound off his body.
“Sorry.” She hastily backed up, smoothing down her own simple T-shirt. She couldn’t help scanning him. With the brown leather work boots and the long, jean-clad legs, and that T-shirt that clung to his chest and arms….
Everything around her went soft.
His mouth moved, but she couldn’t hear him through the pounding of blood in her ears. Finally, she licked her lips and looked away.
“Hey, are you okay?” He touched her arm, quickly pulling back when she looked at his fingers on her skin. Could he feel that same electric pulse now jump-starting her heart? Did a tingle start in his throat and shoot through his stomach too?
“So my stupid coworkers told my sister that I was bringing my boyfriend to the family anniversary party.” She flicked her eyes in his direction again and found him staring at her. “I tried explaining, but my sister, Helene, well.” She blew out her breath. “She can be a real piece of work. I could tell her the truth, and she wouldn’t believe me at this point.”
“I think I can handle it. Believe it or not, I’ve been someone’s boyfriend before.”
Cora smiled. “I’m sure you have.” She cocked her hip and looked fully at him, struck again by his straight nose and those brilliant white teeth and wow, did he have stars in his eyes?
She cleared her throat, reminding herself that she hadn’t gotten up and done fifty pushups for fun. Or to impress Brennan Fuller.
“I’m sure you normally learn things about a woman one at a time,” she said.
“Normally, yes.”
Core pulled in a deep breath. “Well, this isn’t going to be normal, then.”
He let his eyes travel from the top of her head to her own booted feet. “I don’t think much about you is normal, Cora.” His face immediately reddened, and he ducked his head.
Ah, so he’d felt the current between them. Did time seem to swell and stop when he looked at her the way it did for her?
“We’ll have to fast-track some things.”
He put a ball cap on his head, making his jaw seem slightly squarer than before. “Can you talk and work at the same time?”
“Sure thing.”
He nodded toward the parking lot. “I’ve got loads more bags of bark in my truck. An extra pair of shears. Stuff like that.”
She positioned herself at his side, glad when he led her to a normal-sized truck the color of his dark jeans. He lowered the tailgate and lifted three bags of bark with the words, “You can grab the shears and that bucket.”
Cora waited until he’d turned from the truck
and then she heaved three bags of bark into her arms too. As she stood a few inches shorter than Brennan, it was quite the stretch to get her arms around the bags, but she hipped them into place and started after him.
When he flung his bags on the ground beside the ones she’d already seen and then turned, his eyes widened. He stumbled forward. “Cora, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
She let him take a bag of bark, saying, “It’s bark. It doesn’t weigh that much.” Besides she lifted weights every day. The fire equipment the hotshots carried could weigh up to one hundred pounds, and she had to take it with her everywhere.
“How long have you been a firefighter?” he asked, swiping one hand under his hat.
“Nine years.” She continued with her story, telling him about her job at Fire House Four in Vernal and her desire to be a hotshot on a national crew.
As she talked, the truck got unloaded, and Brennan finally slipped on a pair of work gloves and clapped his hands.
“So you like fighting fires. Been doing it for a while. You’ve been here a year, and you want to be a hotshot.” He lifted his eyebrows, as if to check to see if he’d gotten it right.
Cora grinned at him, gesturing for him to continue as he handed her a pair of gloves as well.
“Family’s in Vernal. Sister named Helene. Her husband is Matt. They have two kids, a boy and a girl. I can’t remember their names.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Cora said, impressed he’d remembered as much as he had.
“An older brother named Edgar. He’s married to…uh….”
“Dani,” Cora supplied.
“Dani, right.” He pulled a bucket down to the corner and started pulling microscopic weeds from around the bushes. “They have three kids. All girls.”
“Those are the basics, yes.” She joined him, starting down about ten feet and intending to work toward him. “So what do I need to know about you? Siblings? Parents still married?”
Brennan sent a booming laugh into the sky, but Cora didn’t understand why. She waited for him to quiet, then met his eye with unspoken questions between them.