Slow Burn: A Colorado High Country Novel

by Pamela Clare

  As much as she knew this was true, she hated it.

  She made her way back to the cabin to find the driveway empty. When she got inside, she checked her cell phone. No messages. She hoped he was okay. She hoped everyone on the Team—and the person they were trying to rescue—was safe.

  Worry niggled at her, sliding into her thoughts like storm clouds creeping across a sunny sky. Was Eric okay? Would anyone think to let her know if something happened to him? Whom could she call to find out what was going on?

  Stop being silly.

  He’d told her it was a technical rescue. He was probably just working hard, hanging upside down on a rock somewhere.

  If she lived with him, this is what her life would be like all the time—spending days by herself, waiting for him to come home, wondering every time he left the house whether he’d get injured or even killed on the job.

  Could she handle that?

  The answer came to her without a moment’s hesitation.

  Yes, she could.

  If he could handle the danger and the emotional fallout that came from being a first responder, she could damn well handle loving him. Besides, he knew what he was doing. He hadn’t become fire chief or a primary Team member by shirking on safety. He knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t take unnecessary risks.

  To keep her mind busy, she took out her laptop, checked her email, then looked at public-relations firms in Denver, Boulder, Fort Collins, and Colorado Springs. There were fewer than ten large companies in the entire state, and none of them had anything other than entry-level positions available at the moment. She would have kept searching, but looking at the screen made her head ache.

  She’d just started making egg salad for lunch when Eric pulled into the driveway. Relieved, she met him at the front door. Immediately, she could see on his face that something was wrong. “What is it?”

  He let the screen door shut behind him, took her into his arms, and held her, raw emotion surging through him. “God, it’s good to have you to come home to.”

  She held him tight. “What happened?”

  “It turned out to be a body recovery. A young climber fell, hit his head. There was nothing we could do.”

  She could hear the strain in his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

  He held her for a moment longer, his body communicating a need he couldn’t. Then he shut all the emotion away.

  He stepped back, kissed her. “Joe called. He wants you to come to Knockers tonight. He hasn’t had a chance to treat you yet for the pizza lesson, and he and some of the others also want to say goodbye.”

  At the word “goodbye,” her stomach sank.

  Her stolen week in Scarlet Springs was almost over.

  Eric drove down the mountain toward town, warmed by what his fellow Scarlet Springers had done to honor Victoria. She hadn’t noticed—not yet. He slowed down, wondering how long it would take her.

  “Please promise me no one is going to make a big deal out of anything.”

  “Like what—your protecting a defenseless person from men who outnumbered you and were bigger than you are?”

  “I didn’t do anything the rest of you wouldn’t have done.”

  When it became obvious that she would never notice, he slowed to a near stop and pointed. “Look.”

  A square piece of plywood sat propped against the O’Connor’s mailbox, words painted on it in bright orange spray paint.

  THANK YOU, VICTORIA.

  She stared. “Is that for me?”

  “You know any other Victorias in Scarlet?” He sped up again.

  “But why?”

  She really didn’t seem to understand why people felt so grateful toward her. But then, he’d never seen her do anything for accolades or attention.

  He tried to explain. “You’re not from here, but you defended one of ours. You protected a vulnerable man who can’t protect himself and were almost killed. Is it so strange that people want to thank you?”

  They passed two more road signs before reaching the highway and heading into town. Another stood facing outward at Frank’s gas station.

  “Gosh.” She looked over at Eric, wide-eyed. “I didn’t really do anything.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I guess these folks think you did.”

  He passed through the roundabout, heading toward Knockers. Almost every business they passed had a homemade sign propped out front or stuck in the window. Some had smiley faces. Others had hearts. The one at the new dispensary had a marijuana leaf. But most just had words, all saying, “Thank you, Victoria.”

  The parking lot at Knockers was pretty full for a Thursday night. He parked, then went around to spot Victoria, still unwilling to let her risk falling. They walked hand in hand toward the entrance.

  He could feel her tension. “Try not to look like you’re walking to your execution.”

  That made her laugh. “I just feel silly.”

  He opened the door, stepped into the brewpub to find the Timberline Mudbugs on the stage, the tables full, people sitting around, waiting to be seated. He walked up to Marcia, the hostess, to get them added to the waitlist. “Two.”

  Marcia smiled. “Hey, Hawke. We’ve got your table ready. Right this way.”

  He followed her toward a table for four near the center of the place. “We’re getting the royal treatment tonight.”

  Most of the Team was here, sitting in their spot near the climbing wall. Rose was here, too, with her latest beau—the guy with the bushy beard who ran the marijuana dispensary next door to her shop. What was that guy’s name again?

  Eric and Victoria were seated for less than a minute when Rain appeared at their table, carrying glasses of ice water. “Your money’s no good in this place, Victoria. Whatever you want, it’s on us. If it were me, I’d go for the shrimp and prime rib, the whiskey—the expensive stuff.”

  Victoria laughed. “Thank you, Rain. Please thank Joe for me.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Eric reached over, took her hands, looked into her big brown eyes. “Do you have any idea how good it feels to be the man who gets to walk in here with you?”

  Her gaze went soft and warm in a way that just about killed him. “If it’s anything like the feeling I get being the woman you’re with, then it must be pretty special.”

  God, he was going to miss her.

  Don’t think about that.

  When Rain returned, Victoria ordered the grilled chicken salad and an Italian soda. He ordered the prime rib and a beer.

  He caught sight of Joe and excused himself from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

  He walked over to the bar. “Hey, Joe. Victoria’s feeling pretty self-conscious about all the attention. She doesn’t think she did anything special. She doesn’t want anyone making a fuss over her.”

  Joe glanced over Eric’s shoulder in her direction. “Okay. We can keep it low-key, but someone here wants to thank her.”

  He pointed to a table near the kitchen.

  Bear sat there, finishing his dinner, a big glass of milk next to his plate.

  “Think she’ll object to that?” Joe asked.

  “Nah. I think we’re good there.”

  “Also, I might or might not have asked the Mudbugs to do a special cover in her honor tonight.”

  “Thanks for understanding.” Eric walked back to the table.

  “What was that about?” Victoria asked.

  “Just trying to make sure Joe doesn’t embarrass you.”

  The food arrived a few minutes later, a frown coming over Victoria’s features when she took her first bite of the chicken.

  “Don’t tell me you don’t like this either.”

  “No, it’s fantastic. I wonder what they use as a marinade. It tastes like …”

  “Margarita mix.” Joe stood there, a bottle of champagne and three glasses in his hands. “I’m glad you like it. Mind if I join you?”

  Joe rarely stepped out from behind the bar during business hours, and h
e almost never sat with patrons. So when he pulled out the chair and sat, people gawked.

  He set a champagne glass before each of them, opened the bottle, and poured. They made small talk while Eric and Victoria ate, discussing the wedding, the weather, and Rico’s ongoing effort to get Chicago-style deep-dish pizza on the menu.

  “I’m going to miss this place,” Victoria said, looking around her. “There’s no place like Knockers in Chicago.”

  “I was serious about that job offer,” Joe said.

  That seemed to fluster her. “My degree is in public relations, not cooking.”

  Joe shrugged. “I have a master’s of science in mining engineering.”

  Eric could have tongue-kissed the man. Not that he really expected Victoria to leave her life behind to work in a restaurant, but he could hope…

  When they finished their meals, Joe got to the point. “I understand from Hawke that you don’t want us making a fuss about what you did. I get that. I really do. But Bear is important to us. It goes against the grain in this town not to honor our heroes.”

  “I’m not a hero.” There was a dark frustration in her eyes. “You all keep saying I did something really brave, but I can’t even remember it.”

  So that was the problem.

  “I know someone who remembers it all—every bit of it.” Joe motioned to Rain, who walked over to Bear’s table.

  Some of the tension left Victoria’s face when she saw him. He shuffled over, hat in his hand, his head bowed, his long hair in tangles.

  Joe got to his feet, pulled out the fourth chair. “Have a seat, Bear. You’ve got something you want to say to Victoria, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir.” Bear sat, lifting his gaze to Victoria at last. “Hello, Victoria.”

  “Hi, Bear. How are you?”

  The question seemed to confuse him, or maybe he was just nervous. “Thank you,” he said after a moment.

  She gave him a soft smile that made Eric’s heart ache. “You’re welcome.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She reached over, touched her hand to his arm. “I’m fine.”

  His face crumpled. “I thought … I thought you were dead. That man shoved you into the street. You fell hard, and the car …”

  Eric tried to reassure him. “She was knocked out, but she’s fine, buddy.”

  “Truly, I’m okay.”

  Some of the distress left Bear’s face.

  “How did it make you feel when Victoria came to help you?” Joe asked Bear.

  Bear looked into Victoria’s eyes. “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

  Joe looked over to Victoria. “Do you still think you did nothing?”

  Victoria blinked back tears. “I guess not.”

  Joe picked up his champagne. “Are you sure you don’t want any, Bear?”

  Bear frowned, shook his head. “Demon’s drink.”

  The band was just finishing a song, so Joe waited till the applause faded, then stood. “Can I have everyone’s attention?”

  Silence fell over the place.

  “Last week, a visitor to our town came close to being killed while trying to defend one of our own—Bear—from a group of bullies. That visitor, Victoria Woodley, doesn’t want us to make a big deal out of what she did. That’s just the kind of person she is. She doesn’t even remember what happened. Let’s all raise our glasses in thanks. Victoria, you’ll always have a place here in Scarlet. To Victoria!”

  Shouts rang out through the pub.

  “To Victoria!”

  Eric raised his glass. “To you, my angel.”

  Tears ran down Victoria’s cheeks now. “Thanks. You’re all so sweet.”

  Joe turned toward the band. “Hit it!”

  The Mudbugs’ lead singer spoke into his mic. “This is for you, Victoria.”

  Then the band broke into a Cajun rendition of Sam & Dave’s “I Thank You.” Those who knew the song laughed and began to sing along.

  “Dance with me?” Eric asked.

  “I would love to.” She stood, gave Bear a hug, then followed him onto the dance floor, her hand in his.

  As he took her into his arms and started leading, Eric would have given anything to freeze time and make the night last forever.

  Vic ran her hands over Eric’s bare chest, his arms bracketing her on the bed, his body raised up above hers. “I like it this way the best.”

  “Really?” He thrust into her again, slow and deep. “Why?”

  She tried to find the words, distracted by the hard feel of him inside her. “I like to see your body move. I like to feel your strength. I like to feel overpowered by you.”

  She wasn’t sure she was making sense. She could barely talk.

  “Yeah?” He took hold of her wrists one at a time and stretched her arms over her head, pinning her to the bed, using just enough strength to make it feel real. “Does my sweet Vicki like a little domination?”

  A dark thrill ran through her to feel herself restrained by him. “Yes.”

  There was no need for words after that, as he drove into her hard, pleasure carrying both of them away.

  Eric held her afterward. “We have to talk about it sooner or later.”

  For a moment, she said nothing, her fingers tracing lines across his chest.

  “I don’t want to leave you, but I have to go back. I need to think it all through. I love you, Eric, and I’m happier with you than I’ve ever been. But we’ve only really known each other for a couple of weeks, and moving here would be a huge change. If I’m going to do this, I have to do it the right way. I can’t just uproot my life and my career based on emotions. I have to make sure it’s what we both really want.”

  He understood why she was saying this, but part of him wanted to object. Of course it was what he wanted, but that wasn’t really the issue. She was having trouble trusting herself to make a decision, and that was a problem she had to resolve.

  He kissed her temple. “You have to do what’s right for you. I understand that. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

  All he could do now was wait and hope.

  Chapter 22

  Eight weeks later

  Vic walked back to her office, set her files on her desk, and sank into her chair, relieved that the presentation was over. She’d worked tirelessly on this campaign since getting home two months ago. It was wonderful to have it behind her.

  The executives from Merced Capital had been impressed and pleased with her work, particularly her situational analysis, which had dared to challenge their view of their niche as a company. Vic had suggested nothing less than an audacious rebranding. Abigail had been nervous about that, afraid they would reject the idea. But she’d left the conference room beaming and was now on her way to lunch with Merced’s CEO.

  Vic didn’t care that she hadn’t been invited. She didn’t feel much like schmoozing. She booted up her computer and typed in her password, hoping to catch up on work emails before lunch, her fingers drawn to the diamond pendant Eric had given her on their last morning together. A half-carat princess cut diamond set in white gold, it was the most precious thing she owned because it had come from him.

  “It’s nothing fancy, but I hope you’ll like it.”

  “Oh, Eric! It’s beautiful. I love it.”

  There’d been such vulnerability in his eyes when he’d handed her the small wrapped box. She’d had to fight not to cry.

  It had been only two months, but it felt like a hundred years since they’d stood there together in DIA and said goodbye.

  She willed herself to focus on answering her email, setting aside for the moment the persistent unanswered question of what to do with her life. She had almost finished when her cell phone buzzed, making her pulse skip. She drew it out of her purse.

  A text from Eric.

  She opened it, smiled to herself, warmth blossoming in her chest. It was a selfie of him with a sexy smile on his face and a blue Post-It note
stuck to his forehead that read, “I love you.”

  The Post-It was one of about a hundred Vic had scribbled on and hidden all around his cabin that last Friday when he’d been toned out on an EMS call. It had been her way of leaving a bit of herself with him. Every time he found one, he let her know, and she could see that it made him happy.

  He sent another message, this one just text.

  FOUND THIS ONE IN MY UNDERWEAR DRAWER. YOU SAW MY UNDERWEAR! LOVE YOU TOO.

  That made her laugh.

  She studied the photo, saw that his hair was sweaty and he was wearing his Scarlet Springs Fire Department T-shirt. He must have just finished a shift. She could almost smell him—the salt of his skin, the spice of his shaving cream.

  How was she possibly going to make it to December?

  She planned to spend the holidays with him and had already bought her plane tickets. But Christmas was four whole months away.

  It felt like an eternity.

  She saved the photo to her phone. She would download it to her laptop later and put it with the others he’d sent—photos of the aspens at his cabin starting to change, of Austin and Lexi on their deck, of a black bear that had wandered into his yard. Every photo was precious to her, a link to a place—and a man—she loved.

  There came a knock at her door, and Jeff poked his head in. “Word is Merced is over the moon. Congratulations. I thought you’d want to know that I heard Abigail talking in the elevator. It looks like you’ve got that promotion on lockdown. I hope it comes with a hefty raise.”

  Jeff had done so much to help her through her first weeks back, when headaches and short-term memory problems had made it hard for her to work.

  “Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you, and I’m going to make sure Abigail knows that.”

  “Hey, we’re a team, right?”

  As he disappeared down the hallway, Vic wondered why this news about the promotion had left her feeling … nothing.