by Leigh Bale
An abrasive laugh slipped from Megan’s throat. “It’s not safe no matter what you say, but I guess the fire camp should be harmless enough.”
“That’s right,” Connie said. “And now that I’ve convinced you on this one thing, maybe you’ll also listen to me regarding your love life. It’s time to start dating again. You need a night out for a change.”
“Ha! I own the only restaurant in town and there’s no movie theater. So what am I going to do on a date? Drive out and look at the lake?” Megan pursed her lips.
“It sounds kind of romantic to me. Cuddling up to a handsome man who has eyes just for you,” Connie said.
Megan didn’t agree. Going on a date was as appealing to her as a case of the measles.
The bell over the door tinkled as a man and woman came inside. Connie hurried to wait on them, calling over her shoulder. “Think it over. Tim said he knows someone he’d like to set you up with. He told me to ask you about it.”
“Who is it?” Megan asked.
Connie shrugged as she pulled her notepad out of the pocket in her apron. “Beats me. Tim just said he’s a nice, steady guy.”
Great. Steady and boring. But that was what Megan needed in her life. No more excitement. No more wildfires to make her anxious at night when she should be sleeping.
Connie provided their customers with menus and two glasses of ice water. In her heart, Megan knew dating another man wouldn’t work. She didn’t want to jump into another relationship. Not as long as she had June and Caleb to think about.
Still, she did consider the possibilities. A lot, in fact. As she served food and closed up the diner later that night, her thoughts trailed back to Jared Marshall. His smile alone was enough to make her heart beat faster.
After locking the front door, Frank walked with her and the sleepy children out to the parking lot and said goodbye. Standing beneath the dim glow of a streetlight, Megan let the frigid night air cool her work-flushed face. A heavy doubt blanketed her. A constant companion she couldn’t seem to banish from her heart and mind.
As she buckled her two kids into their seats and closed the door, a chilling breeze smelling of rain swirled around her. She walked to the driver’s side, thinking that the catering job wouldn’t be too bad. It would be a lot of hard work, but that never frightened her. Loving and then losing someone to a wildfire was a different matter entirely. It absolutely terrified her. And she couldn’t go through that again. No, not ever.
* * *
The microwave buzzed, letting Jared know his dinner was ready. Having just gotten home after a long day at work, he changed into his old blue jeans and a worn T-shirt. Switching off the light in his bedroom, he padded barefoot through the dark living room to the cheery lights of the kitchen. Reaching for a hot pad, he opened the microwave and slid his dinner onto the kitchen table. A frozen spaghetti- and-meatballs concoction from a cardboard container. Nothing fancy, and nothing like the meal he’d had at Megan’s diner the day before, but it’d fill up his rumbling stomach.
The doorbell rang and he jerked his head around. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine twenty-eight. Who could be calling at this late hour?
Walking into the living room, he clicked on the porch light. Opening the door, he looked out. Megan Rocklin stood in front of him, wearing a light jacket and a worried frown.
“Mrs. Rocklin! Come in,” he said.
A whoosh of air rushed out of his lungs, and his senses kicked into overdrive. Wow! This was unexpected. Even with a mountain of work, he couldn’t stop thinking about her throughout the day. He’d planned on going back to her restaurant, to ask her about the catering job one more time, but decided to let it drop. Now he was beyond startled to find her on his doorstep. In a town this size, he wasn’t surprised that she knew where he lived, but what was she doing here?
“No, I can’t.” She tossed a desperate look toward the street, as if she wanted to escape.
Beneath the glimmer of the porch light, she fidgeted, looking anxious. He caught sight of her old pickup truck parked in front of his house. Through the windows, he could just make out the tops of her two children’s heads, snuggled together in sleep. A sweet feeling rushed over him. He liked these kids and their mother.
“Did you just get off work at the restaurant?” he asked.
“Yeah, we’re on our way home now.”
He gazed at her face, delicate and pale in the dim night air. Lines of fatigue circled her expressive brown eyes. And in that moment, he realized how difficult life must be for her, running a business and raising two young children on her own.
“What can I do for you?” he asked. If only she’d agree to cater meals to the firefighters, he could bring her some lucrative work that might allow her to hire some more help.
She looked casual in faded jeans. Her blue tennis shoes matched the neck of her soft sweater almost exactly. In the restaurant, she’d worn her reddish-blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Just now, it lay in flowing waves across her shoulders, and he thought she must have pulled it loose and brushed it out before leaving work.
“I’m sorry to bother you at home so late at night, but this is the first chance I’ve had to get away from the diner,” she said, her face flushing a delightful shade of pink.
He caught her fragrant scent and took several deep inhales. He couldn’t help contrasting her relaxed attire to the formal dress suits his ex-wife had worn all the time. After college, Sharon had wanted him to go into banking, like her father. Jared had almost done it, too. After all, his parents had died and he’d wanted to please his new wife and her family. But wearing uncomfortable suits and sitting in an office all day long didn’t appeal to Jared. He loved his forestry work and being outdoors. Too late, he had realized that he and his wife had wanted different things from life.
“It’s no problem. What can I help you with?” He smiled, genuinely pleased to see her again.
She glanced at the dark street, then ducked her head, clenching her delicate hands together like a lifeline. She cleared her voice and swallowed before speaking. “I was just wondering if the catering job is still available.”
He released a silent breath of relief, more than glad that he had put off going into Reno to ask another business to do the job. “Yes, it is. Are you interested?”
She hesitated several moments. “Yes, I think I am.”
He stepped forward, his fingers tightening around the doorknob. “Great. I’m glad to hear that.”
“But first, I’ve got a few questions.”
He lifted a hand in the air. “Of course. Ask anything. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll find out the information for you.”
She took a deep breath, as though she were about to plunge headfirst into an icy pool of water. “How much notice will I get when you need me to feed the fire crews?”
“About twenty-four hours. Is that enough?”
She nodded. “Yes, I think so. How many people will I need to plan on feeding?”
“Around four hundred. Some big fires require feeding two thousand people, but if we get to that point, I’ll bring in some additional caterers. Although you’ll also need to feed about fifty people at the spike camps. Those are remote camps which are mostly for smoke jumpers and hotshot crews. You won’t need to go into the spike camp to serve the meals but rather prepare the food so we can fly it in by helicopter.”
Another nod. “Yes, I know what a spike camp is.”
His mouth dropped open. “That’s right. Your husband was a firefighter, too.”
“Yes.”
He barely caught the word, she spoke so quietly.
“Would you be able to feed that many people?” he asked.
“Yes, I think I can manage that number just fine.”
“Good. I’ve got a watering trough we can fill with ice and then jus
t dump the cans of soda pop and bottled water into it for people to grab and run. But you’ll need to keep a large coffeepot hot and ready twenty-four hours a day,” he said.
“That sounds fine. I’ve got several giant coffee pots we can use. Will you need me to provide the ice?”
He nodded. “Yes, please. And I suggest you hire two or three more cooks to help you prepare the food. Will that be a problem?”
She finally met his eyes. “No, I’m planning to speak with some people I know tomorrow afternoon. Since it’s seasonal work and only if we get a fire nearby, I think they’ll come out of retirement to help me. I also know of two school cooks who are out of work for the summer. I think they’ll jump at the chance for this kind of job. I’ll alternate their schedules, so they don’t get too worn out with the long hours. And then, I’m hoping to make a trip into Reno next week, to buy some additional equipment. Once I’ve got everything ready, I thought you could come over to check it out.”
Impressive. He much preferred hiring an experienced caterer like Megan. She obviously knew what she was doing, but yes, he would want to check it out. “That would be fine. It sounds like you’ve already thought this through.”
“I have. But—” she swallowed again “—I just want to make sure my food crew won’t be anywhere near the forest fire.”
He hesitated. Obviously, he wouldn’t put her or her people in harm’s way. And yet, she seemed to be overly worried about it. And for some odd reason, he felt a protective impulse come over him. To reassure her. To keep her safe.
“No, you won’t be working close to the fire. The camps are usually situated in a safe zone. I’ll ensure your protection. I can promise you that.”
She released an audible breath, and it finally dawned on him that though most people would want to be assured of the same thing, Megan’s reasons stemmed from having her husband die in a fire. And he couldn’t blame her.
“Mrs. Rocklin, I can assure you that no harm will come to you or your people. Safety comes first with me. We can replace buildings and trees, but no one should ever be injured or die in a forest fire.” And he meant what he said. Deep inside, he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep his word.
A slight smile curved her lips, and she stepped back on the front porch. “I’m glad to hear that. And please, call me Megan.”
He smiled too, beyond relieved to have a caterer set in place. This was his first assignment as an FMO, and he wanted to do a good job. Contracting people to provide food, bulldozers, drop planes and pumper trucks was a large part of his work. He felt better having this item settled.
They discussed her fee and a few other details. As she stepped down off the porch and headed toward the sidewalk, he accompanied her to her truck.
“I can bring the contract by your restaurant in a day or two for you to sign,” he said.
Zipping her jacket up to her throat, she met his gaze. “That would be fine. And thank you. I won’t let you down.”
He smiled. “I have no doubt that’s true.”
She opened the door to her truck. And as he watched her climb inside, flip on the headlights and drive away, he felt surprisingly happy inside. A strange notion that made him question why. And though he hated to admit it, he knew the answer. He wanted to see more of Megan Rocklin. And that knowledge left him feeling both a little frightened and excited all at once.
Chapter Three
“Mommy, that man’s here.”
Megan looked up. Caleb stood in the doorway of the laundry room in their house.
“What man?” Down on her hands and knees, Megan wrung out a dripping rag into the mop bucket. She blew a long tendril of hair out of her face and glanced toward the threshold again. Jared Marshall stood there, tall and imposing. Little Caleb stared up at the man, a look of hero worship filling his eyes.
“Oh!” Megan’s mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. She almost groaned out loud, thinking this day couldn’t get much worse. Why did this gorgeous man have to catch her mopping up a mess from the leaky washing machine?
Dressed in his Forest Service uniform, Jared held several white papers in his big hands. In a rush, Megan sat back with a thump, taking in the bronze shield pinned to the left front pocket of his drab olive green shirt. He looked so official. So imposing.
Bracing her hands against the floor, she pushed herself to her feet, a knot of tension tightening at the back of her neck.
“Hi, Jared. I didn’t expect to see you today.” She dropped the rag into the bucket, noticing that her wet fingers were wrinkled like prunes.
His gaze swept across the room. He observed the washing machine pulled away from the wall, the tools resting on top of the dryer and the sheen of water still covering the damp floor.
She felt nervous and out of sorts having this man in her home. Her house wasn’t fancy, but it was normally clean and comfortable. So, why did he have to show up just now, when everything was in a mess? And why did she care what Jared Marshall thought about where she lived anyway?
He chuckled, the low sound sending a shiver up her spine. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I guess we keep surprising each other.”
“Yeah, we sure do. You caught me at a bad time. The washing machine sprang a leak.” Her voice sounded unnaturally high to her ears.
She turned and moved the bucket out of the middle of the floor. Facing him, she lifted her chin, trying to retain a bit of dignity.
Pretending not to notice her predicament, Jared waved the papers in the air. “I brought over the contract for you to sign. I took it over to the restaurant, but they told me it was your day off. I figured you wouldn’t mind if I stopped by.”
Her breath whooshed from her lungs. “Of course not. I only go into the diner on Mondays if they get swamped by customers. It’s usually our slow day. I was trying to catch up on some laundry, but it didn’t work out quite as I’d planned.”
She took a step, her tennis shoes squeaking against the tile floor.
She indicated the towels and a load of soggy clothes still sitting inside the washing machine drum, half-filled with water. They were waiting for a spin cycle that wouldn’t come, and Megan dreaded rinsing the clothes before wringing them out by hand. With everything else she had to do today, she didn’t need this problem to cope with. She wanted her laundry clean and put away.
“Jared can fix the washer, Mommy,” Caleb said with confidence.
Both Jared and Megan snapped their heads in the boy’s direction, looking surprised. Jared closed his mouth and his gaze zeroed in on the washing machine. June joined Caleb, watching the scene with wary eyes.
“I pulled it out away from the wall, so I could get at the problem,” Megan said.
But the truth was, she didn’t have any idea how to fix the machine. Megan had used the wrench to shut off the water, but not before she’d been doused by the spray. She pushed a limp strand of hair back behind her ear, highly conscious that she must look horrible. No makeup. Her hair a mess. Dressed in worn blue jeans and a ratty sweatshirt.
“I have no idea how to fix the leak,” she confessed.
And the drowsy little town of Minoa didn’t include a plumber. Folks usually dealt with problems like this on their own. It was expensive to bring an expert in from out of town. Blaine had always handled these situations for them, which was just one more reason she missed him. She’d been about ready to call Tim Wixler, to see if he might be able to come over after he got off work. Now she didn’t want to ask for Jared’s help, but she sure could use it.
“Looks like the washing machine made quite a mess,” Jared said.
“It did. Water was all over the place. Huh, Mommy?” Caleb scrunched up his nose as he gestured at the walls and floor.
Megan dried her hands on an old towel and heaved a disgruntled sigh. “Yes, I was just cleaning it up.”
“My dad always fixed the washer,” June said in a slightly defensive tone.
Jared quirked one brow in an endearing smile. “He did, huh? I’ll bet he was very handy at fixing things. Do you mind if I take a look?”
June didn’t respond. She just studied him, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Please do. And thank you.” Megan stepped back to let him through, tugging on her children’s arms to get them out of the way.
Right now, she didn’t care that Jared was a wildfire fighter. She’d be grateful just to have her washing machine back in commission. Besides the added expense of buying a new machine, she didn’t have time to drive into Reno to shop for one right now. If necessary, she could do it when she went into the city to buy the extra equipment she needed to cater meals to the firefighters, but that wasn’t her preference. Her budget was stretched too tight already.
“Why don’t you read through this while I see what I can do?” Jared handed her the contract and scrunched his tall frame into the narrow alcove behind the washer so he could inspect the hoses connecting the machine to the faucet.
Megan took her kids into the kitchen, where they all sat at the table and she pored over the contract. There were two copies, and she assumed one was for her. She’d just signed on the bottom line when Jared came in wiping his damp hands on a towel.
Caleb popped out of his seat and stood wriggling with anticipation. June folded her arms and scowled at the man.
“You don’t happen to have any hose washers, by chance?” Jared asked.
Megan cocked her head to one side. “What do you mean?”
He held out his hand. On his calloused palm rested a little black washer that was split in two. “This kind of washer. It seals the connection between the faucet and the hose. This one is split, which is what I believe caused your leak.”
She crinkled her nose in a grimace. “It was more like a geyser. And yes, I use those kinds of washers on my garden hoses.”
He nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Do you have any extras lying around?”