True Love's Fire: A Red Hot Valentine Story (Hell Yeah!)

by Hunter, Sable

  TRUE LOVE’S FIRE

  Only once in a life time

  Is what we’re told

  True love is rarer

  Than silver or gold

  SABLE HUNTER

  Continuing the Hell Yeah! Series with book 12

  While vacationing at a cabin in the Ozarks, Scott Walker - Austin neurobiologist, gets snowed-in and has to be rescued by local, Lia Houston. She brings him food, helps him fix his heat and tries to get his car on the road. A monster storm has paralyzed the mountain and as she’s trying to chain his car to her truck, a huge ice-covered limb falls, crushing the front of her pick-up and almost flattening Scott. If she hadn’t moved fast, he’d be a memory – but the brave action on her part comes with a price, she’s injured and stuck with Mr. Know-It-All until the weather abates. Scott doesn’t believe in love, much less love at First Sight. So when he meets Lia, he welcomes the attraction, but fights the tenderness with every breath in his body. Join Sable Hunter as she chronicles their journey from lust to love with a lot of fireworks in between. They meet at the dawn of the New Year, and by Valentine’s Day the fires of True Love are burning bright.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright ©2014 Sable Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  www.sablehunter.com

  Published by Beau Coup Publishing http://beaucoupllc.com

  Cover and Technical Assistance by Added Touches

  http://addedtouches.com

  Six brothers. One Dynasty—

  TEBOW RANCH.

  Meet the McCoy brothers and their friends— men who love as hard as they play.

  Texas Cowboys – nothing hotter.

  HELL YEAH!

  Take a moment to check out Sable’s current and upcoming projects.

  Visit her on:

  Website: http://www.sablehunter.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorsablehunter

  Email: sablehunter@rocketmail.com

  Check out all of Sable’s books on Amazon

  http://www.amazon.com/author/sablehunter

  Cover and Technical Advising by Barb Caruso

  http://www.addedtouchesllc.blogspot.com

  PROLOGUE

  Where do I belong?

  My heart cries

  How can I go on?

  My heart cries

  There’s nowhere to call home

  My heart cries

  Until I met you

  Lia learns a hard lesson:

  “Mama, what does white trash mean?” Lia soothed down her skirt over her skinny legs. The raw place on her knee from where she’d slid on the gravel stung like heck. “Reggie called me no-count white trash, and he pushed me down.”

  Analia Houston wanted to cry. Her little girl was so innocent, so tender. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. At eleven years old, she shouldn’t have to defend herself against prejudice and small town gossip. “Don’t pay any attention to him, baby. He’s just jealous because you can sing so pretty.”

  “I don’t think so.” Lia swiped a strand of her dark hair from her cheek. “Reggie says we’re poor ‘cause I don’t have a daddy. He says you and Grandma are sluts, and I’m gonna be one when I grow up.” She watched her mother’s face fall. “Don’t cry, Mama. It’s all right. I just walk away.” Lia didn’t know how to fight back against something she didn’t understand.

  “I’m not going to cry. Why don’t you go sit with your grandmother and read to her while I fix supper. The practice will do you good. I checked out two Sharyn McCrumb novels about mountain people, you’ll enjoy them.” She kissed her daughter. “You’re so smart. Not many girls your age have such a big vocabulary.” Analia handed her the book and led her daughter to the straight back chair by the hospital bed.

  Sally, Analia’s mother, lay there staring at the ceiling. For all extents and purposes, she was a vegetable. A stroke had robbed her of speech and movement. Only once in six years had she reacted, and that was when Lia accidentally knocked a red hot iron off the ironing board. The youngster acted on reflex, catching the iron in her palms. Her screams of agony had roused the comatose woman and caused her to scream her daughter’s name. “Analia! Check the baby!”

  “Hello, Grandma.” Lia kissed Sally’s cheek. Her grandmother did not respond. Analia thought Sally understood them, but was just locked away inside herself. At fifty-three, she was too young to be in this sad shape. Once she’d heard her mother speaking to Sally, telling her she knew the stroke had been brought on by the way the town’s people treated them. She’d said one could only endure so much pressure, and they should stay on their mountain, ignoring the people of Adah.

  As Lia hunted her place in The Rosewood Casket, she let her mind wander. No one would play with her at school. Every day she dreaded facing the other kids. Although her mom hadn’t answered her, she knew the kids thought she was worthless. That was what white trash meant.

  There was something she didn’t have, something Lia was missing. She wished she knew what it could be. She tried to be a good person, her grandmother had taught her to be kind. But whatever she was lacking must be very important. Because the girls turned their noses up at her and the boys giggled behind her back.

  Analia watched her daughter and her mother. History was repeating itself. Sally Houston’s life was over. Yet what had her life been like? She’d fallen in love with a man who had come to town on a job. He’d courted Sally, got her pregnant, and then walked away, leaving her high and dry. Analia had been born in 1975. She never knew her father’s name, for Sally never breathed it. People can be cruel. They condemn a person for one mistake, for being different, or for being vulnerable. So Analia had borne the stigma of being illegitimate in a small hamlet where everyone knew everybody’s business. The local boys assumed she was like her mother, or what they assumed her mother to be like. So they baited her, came on to her, but none of them ever asked her out. When Randall Roberts was sent to do the geological mapping studies of the Buffalo River area, his attention toward Analia seemed heaven-sent. But he too had left, moved on, never knowing he’d fathered a child. Analia had been too used to rejection to try to find him. If he didn’t want her, she wouldn’t force herself or her child on him.

  The circle of life turned, and Lia’s birth fueled the fires of the gossip mill, cementing the reputation of the Houston women as trashy. No one took the time to learn that Sally and Analia had no other lovers. They weren’t loose, they were victims. Lia inherited the legacy, doing nothing to earn it, but just being born. Adah, their hometown, was not a sanctuary. Only their mountain, Ladygrey, was a haven. Only here were they safe.

  As Lia began to read, the fire danced in the hearth, soup bubbled on the stove and the hearts of three women all yearned for one thing—to belong.

  The day Scott stopped believing in love…

  “I’m sorry, Scott, but I can’t marry you.”

  Scott Walker turned to stone. He was on one knee with a ring in his hand, a ring he’d purchased with the last of his savings. His mouth felt dry. His heart was hammering in his chest. “Renee, I love you.” Looking up into her classically beautiful face, he searched her eyes for an explanation. “Is it because of the money? I have an offer of a fellows
hip back in Austin. We won’t be rich, but we’ll be comfortable.”

  The woman he’d built his world around rose quickly from where she’d been seated, almost pushing him down in her effort to get away. “It’s not just the money. I don’t want to leave California. I don’t want to move to Texas.”

  He stood slowly, rising to his feet. Turning to her, he watched her gaze out the window. The view from his apartment wasn’t that great, but all he could see was her. She was his life. So gorgeous she made his heart ache. “Okay, we won’t go.” Scott held out his hand, beseechingly. “It’s Christmas Eve. I was planning on taking you home to introduce you to my family on New Year’s. The folks wanted me to come home for Christmas, but I stayed to propose to you.” He watched her face, trying to read her expression. “I’ll find a position here, if not in Palo Alto, surely in Los Angeles or San Francisco. I only want to make you happy, Renee.”

  With a slight laugh, she faced him. He really was gorgeous. Six foot five, muscled physique, Hollywood face—all of her girlfriends were envious of his looks. But he was rough, unsophisticated, smart, but not in her league socially. Even the hours of mind-blowing sex weren’t enough to weigh against the talk and her parents disapproval. “I’m afraid you can’t make me happy, Scott. I’m sorry.”

  Her tone was dismissive. His tone was incredulous. “How did I misread this? I thought you loved me?” He let his gaze rake over the stunning image she made—svelte, elegant, a waterfall of silky blonde hair. “Tell me what to do, how to change, and I’ll do it.” Scott Walker never thought he’d resort to begging, but his heart was breaking. “Please, Renee…”

  “Let’s not drag this out.” She picked up her wrap from the back of the couch and moved toward him, stopping to kiss him on his cheek. “Enjoy your life in Texas, Dr. Walker. Thanks for the memories.”

  As he watched her leave, Scott felt himself change. His heart hardened. His spirit became cold. His mind-set morphed—there was no such thing as love. His studies set forth those hypotheses, but he’d assumed they were dry academic drivel. Dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, the role of the limbic system—all of these things he’d learned, but dismissed because he was in love. As she closed the door behind her, he placed the ring in the box and flung it against the wall. “No more.” He would spend the rest of his life becoming the kind of man a woman like Renee could want, yet he vowed to never, ever love again.

  The day Lia stopped believing in love…

  Lia Houston strummed the guitar, putting the finishing touches on a new song, His Smile.

  Then he smiled

  And the sun warmed my heart

  And I knew

  I would never be happy apart from His smile

  His smile is the breath of spring

  His smile is my everything

  I live to see, I live to love

  His smile

  “There, that’s got it.” As she jotted down one more grace note, the phone rang. Laying down her instrument, she pounced on the phone, eager to hear his voice. Oh, they weren’t officially a couple, not really. But if she were granted her dearest wish, they would be soon.

  “Hello.” She was breathless, and it was just because his voice would be the next sound she would hear. His Smile was about him, Dylan Green.

  “Hey, Lia, can you talk?”

  “Oh yes, of course.” She settled in the corner of the couch, ready to hang on his every word. From the day Lia met him at the Bluegrass Festival in Eureka Springs, he’d been her best friend. Before Dylan, she’d been alone with her music, her mountain and her memories. Since her mother and grandmother had passed, Lia had been on her own. Three generations of ostracism in her small community had guaranteed she had few friends. So when Dylan walked up to her and told her he wanted to put her song on everybody’s lips, she’d fallen for him hook, line and sinker. He had taken her under his wing and nothing would ever be the same.

  “How’s the tune coming for Sela Duncan?”

  “I just finished the song a moment ago. I’m calling it His Smile.”

  “Catchy. I like it.” He cleared his throat. “There’s another singer who would like to talk to you. His name is Cabe Allen. I’m not sure you two would be the best fit. He sings ballads. But he likes the rhythm and flow of your words, or so he says.”

  “Sure, whatever you think, Dylan. When can I meet him? Would you like for me to come to Nashville?” Please ask me to come, please ask me to come. She didn’t get to see him nearly often enough. He came to Adah about once a month and she drove to Nashville as often as he invited her. But they skyped and texted constantly, going over contracts or royalties. And sometime during the process, Lia had fallen in love with the handsome, blue-eyed man. The last time he’d come, one thing had led to another and she’d made love with him. It was her first time. Even she knew it hadn’t been perfect, but Lia was ready to learn how to please him. All he needed to do was teach her how. She’d do anything for Dylan.

  “Actually I want to handle this one myself, and maybe after we iron a few things out, you can talk to him on the phone.”

  “Really?” She was disappointed. “Why don’t you want me to meet Cabe like I did Sela and the others?” Dylan had flown Sela Duncan to Little Rock when they’d first begun negotiations for Private Message. The light-hearted love song had been a hit for Sela, staying in the Top 40 for twenty-nine weeks and in the top 10 for eighty-four days.

  A loud sigh came from Dylan. “Well, Lia. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you don’t come across too well in person.” What? She almost stopped breathing. “We almost lost Sela because she was put-off by the way you look and dress.”

  “She was?” What did he mean? “What did I do wrong?” Lia’s hands were shaking. She slipped the one not holding the phone under her leg, just to keep it still.

  “You write great music. And you’re a sweet kid. The best.” He cleared his throat. “But you’re from Hicksville. When these big-time singers meet you, I’m always afraid you’re going to turn them off. I know how talented you are, so I can overlook your unsophisticated country ways. As long as we can keep you back in the hills, writing these beautiful songs, it doesn’t matter what you look like or how back-woodsy you are.”

  Every word he said was like a nail being hammered in her heart. “You’re ashamed of me? What about us?” Lia tried to keep the pain and tears from her voice, but Dylan heard them.

  “Now, don’t get upset. I wouldn’t say ashamed, exactly. I just know how best to showcase my clients and your work is what shines. As long as I can sell your songs, we can keep the real you hidden behind the scenes.”

  Hidden behind the scenes. He was speaking plainly, Lia didn’t know why she had to push it, but she needed to be absolutely sure she understood him. “If I wanted to come to Nashville and spend some time with you and meet Cabe over dinner, would that be okay?”

  Silence. Cough. “Let’s not do that, Lia. You don’t really have what it takes to go one-on-one with these stars. I’d rather Charlotte and I go out with Cabe. You’ll be the main topic of conversation, I promise. Charlotte is sexy and she’ll be able to charm him in no time. I’ll fax you the contract and you’ll never have to leave Hooterville.”

  “I don’t live in Hooterville,” she whispered. “Wait. Who is Charlotte?”

  “She’s my fiancé.” Pride was obvious in his voice. “We became engaged a few weeks ago. I swear she looks just like a Hollywood starlet. In fact, she’s a former Miss Tennessee.”

  “Why would you make love with me knowing you were about to ask someone else to marry you?” Her heart was breaking. Everything had been a lie. Dylan was just using her.

  She listened to him take a breath or two, before he said anything. “We were lonely. You understand, it didn’t mean anything.”

  “I’m a good person.” Why she was bothering to defend h
erself, she didn’t know.

  “Of course you are.” She could hear him sigh. “Look, I don’t want you to be unhappy about any of this. We just need you to focus on your music. Not every person has your ability and what you can do is far more valuable than a pretty face or a voluptuous figure.”

  As he tried to explain, she touched her face and pulled her legs up close to her body, hiding her slight build. That this man whom she liked and admired so much felt this way about her killed something inside. “I see.” Reaching out she turned over the sheet music pages, hiding the score sheet of His Smile from her gaze.

  “You keep penning those beautiful songs, and we’ll both make a lot of money.”

  “Goodbye, Dylan.” They were through. He just didn’t know it yet. At least she hadn’t gotten pregnant. Lia didn’t ever intend to fall in love again, and she certainly wasn’t going to write about it.

  Scott learns a hard lesson…

  He stared at the television, unaware of what was playing. Some Christmas movie, he couldn’t remember the name of. Swallowing hard, he let Renee’s words play over and over in his head. The phone rang, but he let it go to the machine. “Scott, it’s your Mother. We missed you today. Christmas isn’t the same without you boys here.” He heard her swallow some tears. “I know, I know, you have to grow up and have a family of your own. This girl of yours, we can’t wait to meet her.” Another pregnant pause. “I just want to see you.”