Wild Fire

by Tiffinie Helmer

  Wild Fire

  (Alaska Wild Nights Book 3)

  Tiffinie Helmer

  Copyright © 2018 by Tiffinie Helmer

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Adam Mclain of amclain.com

  Cover design by Kelli Ann Morgan of Inspire Creative Services

  Created with Vellum

  For my amazing and talented sister, Triena Manning. Happy 50th birthday, sis! Love you.

  Acknowledgments

  My heartfelt thanks goes out to firefighter EMT and fellow Barnes & Noble Bookseller, Eric Gile. He was extremely helpful with all the technical stuff and didn’t mind me peppering him with questions every time I say him. Thanks so much, Eric, for putting up we me.

  Also, many thanks go out to my Facebook Street Team, Tiff’s Wild Readers, for their help in suggesting business names for my fictional town of Heartbreak, Alaska.

  Special mention goes to the following: Tina Edge Van’t Sant and Conny Toste for helping name Gideon’s medical clinic and Heartbreaks gossip line.

  You guys ROCK!

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Preview of Wild Card (Alaska Wild Nights Book 4)

  About the Author

  Also by Tiffinie Helmer

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Jack Wilde arrived to meet Pete Rasmussen at the Pump House, high from his latest matchmaking success.

  Two daughters engaged. Two more to go, then he’d start working on the boys. They needed to season a bit anyway.

  Actually, settling Zoe down—his Wild Card and youngest child—might be his hardest challenge. He’d have to find a man with a strong enough character to stand up to her so that she didn’t walk all over him. The girl had a way with wrapping men around her little finger, even at such a young age. Lord knows, he’d been under her spell since she’d come screaming into the world nineteen years ago.

  Where did the time go?

  He glanced around the Pump House, and Pete waved from a corner booth.

  “Hey ya, Pete.” He sat down. “How’s the sporting goods business?”

  “Couldn’t be better. I already ordered you a beer. I’m excited to figure out how we’re going to get our kids matched up.” He rubbed his hands together.

  “I have some questions first.” He’d learned a valuable lesson with Wild Cat. Seeing her crying and heartbroken had almost set him off his mission of matchmaking, but then everything had turned out better than he’d planned. Avery and Cat were so in love it made his heart swell every time he saw them together.

  He needed more information on what kind of man Gideon was now. He remembered him as a boy, palling around with Ash and Avery. He wasn’t about to throw just anyone at Kennadee—even if Gideon was a doctor.

  “I need some information about Gideon first. Why did he return to practice medicine here?”

  “He missed Alaska, and I want him settled with a hometown girl born and bred here so he’ll stay in town and not take off to Anchorage or Fairbanks. I’ve missed my boy.”

  Jack understood that well enough. His son Brey was off in Nashville and Jack missed him horribly. Talking on the phone once a week didn’t fill the void.

  “I remember Gideon as somewhat of a rebel. Is he still pushing the limits?”

  “Medical school helped focus him. He was bored here. School didn’t offer him the challenges he needed. Medicine challenges him every day. I’ve never seen him happier.”

  “He didn’t hook up with anyone while in the lower forty-eight?”

  “No one serious. He would have told me. He’s primed to be gob smacked by a woman, and I believe that woman is Kennadee. He had a crush on her in high school. They went to prom together.”

  “If I remember right, they only had the one date.”

  “That had more to do with Kennadee than Gideon.”

  “That’s right, she refused to date anyone more than once.” Jack laughed. “I’d forgotten about that quirk of hers. She was adamant that she wouldn’t fall for the first guy like Sorene had with Ash Bleu. She wanted to experience life and not be tied down. Now, if I could get her to settle down a bit, I wouldn’t worry so much about her. She’s off running into burning buildings with her job, jumping out of planes, smoke jumping. Just last week she dislocated her shoulder falling from a ladder while fighting a house fire. Every gray hair I’ve got has her name on it. But if she fell in love and had a few kids?

  “You’d be able to sleep at night and not worry that you’ll get one of those late-night phone calls.”

  “Exactly.”

  “All right, how do we do this? You’ve succeeded twice now, I’m new to the game.” Pete asked.

  Avery Dawson, owner of the bar and Wild Cat’s fiancé, showed up with their drinks. He regarded them with suspicion. “What are two up to?”

  “Just two old friends sharing a beer,” Jack said quickly, but he couldn’t meet Avery’s pointed gaze.

  “Right. Looks pretty conspiratorial with you two. Who are you matchmaking now? Gideon and…ah, it’s got to be Kennadee since Gideon was sweet on her in high school.” Avery threw his head back and laughed. “I hope your life insurance is up to date. You’re both dead men when she finds out.”

  “Are you going to tell her?” Jack asked.

  “Hell, no. I’m too much in love to ruin it for someone else. Just be careful,” Avery cautioned. “Wild Fire has an explosive temper.”

  Didn’t he know it.

  Chapter 1

  Kennadee Wilde drove the windy road back to Heartbreak, Alaska. She’d just seen the doctor in Fairbanks for a check up on her dislocated shoulder. While he’d told her, she could lose the sling, he hadn’t okayed her return to work, which pissed her off. Granted, being a firefighter required that she be in top physical shape. The rational part of her understood the need to take it easy and give her body time to heal, but the other part of her dreaded the upcoming weeks of doing nothing. She wasn’t good at having too much time on her hands. She liked to work, needed to stay busy or she was bound to get into trouble.

  Break Up—the Alaskan term for spring—had arrived in a violent mood of rivers rushing, waterfall snow melts and buds bursting free on the birch trees. The warmer temperatures and longer days had her itching to be out in it, celebrating the coming of summer. Summer was her busiest time of year, as she spent most of it smoke jumping all over the state fighting wildfires. So, it was spring that really enchanted her. She could take time to enjoy the short season, more so this year than she’d planned, unfortunately.

  She steered around a wicked bend in the road, automatically slowing down. A Tahoe in the oncoming lane suddenly swerved to avoid a bear and her two cubs moseying across the blacktop. The Tahoe swerved, lost control, hitting the soft shoulder, and rolled down the embankment.

  Kennadee hit her brakes.

  Screeching to a stop, she grabbed her phone and dialed 911 while she bolted across the road, hoping the noise of the accident had scared off m
amma bear so she wouldn’t have to deal with her and her cubs along with whoever was in the Tahoe.

  “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” a woman answered, her voice calm and comforting.

  “This is off-duty firefighter Kennadee Wilde from Heartbreak. There’s a roll off near mile marker thirty-three,” she relayed, scrambling down the embankment to assess the condition of the driver. “Send an ambulance.”

  She didn’t bother staying on the line, pocketing her phone. Mile marker thirty-three was roughly halfway between Fairbanks and Heartbreak. An ambulance would be twenty to thirty minutes away at best.

  A copse of black spruce had brought the rolling Tahoe to a stop, where it perched precariously. The roots of the trees weren’t anchored deep in the permafrost ground and wouldn’t hold the weight of the Tahoe for long. Once they gave, the SUV would continue its downhill cartwheel into the rushing river below.

  If she didn’t get the occupant or occupants out of the vehicle before then, they wouldn’t survive the icy water swollen with the spring runoff.

  Brush and branches tore at her clothes and the exposed skin of her arms and face. She’d taken off her coat as it was too warm with the sun shining through the windshield of her old beater pickup.

  Sliding down the torn underbrush and soggy ground, she reached the vehicle. The door was bashed in, the windshield shattered, and the airbag deployed. A man lay back against the seat, held there by the airbag and steering wheel, blood seeping from a head wound. She scanned the rest of the vehicle, grateful to find only the driver inside. Thank God, there were no kids in the backseat. She tried the door, but it was crushed in from the roll and wouldn’t budge.

  She knocked on the window. No response. Searching at her feet for a pointy rock, she found one and busted the window behind the driver’s door. “Sir, can you hear me?” She reached in and unlocked and opened the door, crawling into the backseat. She felt the pulse at his neck, relieved to find it strong and steady. Good.

  A tree trunk snapped, and the Tahoe lurched forward. She grabbed the back of his seat to steady herself.

  Shit, she had to get him free before the SUV tumbled the rest of the way down the slope. She’d prefer to wait for the ambulance since she didn’t want to injure the man more by moving him. But time was against them both.

  He moaned and lifted his head.

  “Sir, can you tell me your name?”

  “Gideon,” he rasped out. “My name’s Gideon.”

  “Can you move your legs, Gideon?”

  “I-I think so.”

  “We need to get out of the car.” She reached around him and unclicked his seatbelt. He hollered as her hand brushed his side. “Can you tell me where you hurt?”

  “Everywhere.” He wiped at his eyes, the side of his face that she could see from the backseat showed powder burns from the airbag. “I-I can’t see. Why can’t I see?” The question ended on a high pitch.

  “Don’t panic. I need you to stay calm. An ambulance is on the way, but we need to get out of the car now.” The Tahoe shifted again, and another spruce splintered.

  He turned toward her. Blood trailed down his face from a cut on his forehead that would require stitches, and he looked as if he had a possible broken nose.

  “Take my hand,” she ordered. He felt around for her, and she grasped his hand in hers. “Your door is caved in. I need you to climb into the backseat. Can you do that for me?” She prayed he could or she didn’t know how she’d get him out before the Tahoe gave up its perch.

  He shifted slowly in his seat, feeling his way with his other hand, and inched toward her. “Keep talking. I can’t see anything.”

  “I’ve never had a good-looking man ask me to keep talking,” she said, trying to keep the mood light and calm. “Most men usually want to shut me up.” As he got closer, she grabbed his other arm and pulled him toward her, finally getting him into the backseat.

  “You have a smoky voice,” he said, breathing hard. “Reminds me of this girl I once dated, but yours is deeper. I like it. Very sexy.”

  “You can’t be hurt that bad if you’re handing out compliments.” She stepped out of the vehicle still holding his hand. The Tahoe slid and she refused to let him go, pulling him free. He fell on top of her in the mud. She lay there under him, trying to catch her breath. Relief hitting her hard enough to cause her to feel dizzy. Damn, that had been close.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, rising above her on his elbows.

  “I need to be asking you that question.” She smiled. He was indeed a very good-looking man even in his injured state. He was tall with thick hair the color of hazelnuts. He had a strong, square jaw, and the warmest brown eyes she’d ever seen. They blinked unseeingly at her, causing her to worry. “Let’s take a look at you.”

  She needed to assess his condition and then climb back up to the road so the ambulance could find them. Just having her truck parked alongside the road wouldn’t be enough of a signal. Trucks were always parked along the roadside in Alaska by fishermen, hunters, and hikers.

  “I need my bag.” He rolled off her, grimacing in pain, and tried to stand.

  He wasn’t going to try and get back in the Tahoe, was he? What was he thinking?

  “Nothing inside the car is worth your life.” She gently forced him to lay on the ground. “You need to lay here and let me look at you.”

  “You don’t understand. I have test samples in my bag.” He started to get agitated, and she laid her hands on his shoulders, trying to calm him. “I need the bag,” he stressed again.

  “I need you to breathe for me and stay calm. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, but I need that bag.”

  She glanced back to the deathtrap, not believing she was going back in there for a damn thing. “Where did you last see it?” She winced, knowing she shouldn’t have reminded him that he couldn’t see anything.

  “It was on the passenger seat.”

  “Promise me that you will stay right here and not move.” The last thing she needed was for him to stumble around and hurt himself worse. She took a deep breath, facing down the Tahoe. It was no worse than running into a burning building, she told herself.

  Standing on the running boards, she looked inside the Tahoe, not seeing the bag.

  “It’s a medical bag. Big and black,” Gideon said from behind her.

  “Should be easy to find then.” And helpful in their situation. She had a basic first aid kit in the truck. She really needed to upgrade that. Climbing into the SUV, she inched toward the front. There on the floorboards on the passenger side next to the door lay the bag. Getting to it would be tricky. Her added weight on that side of the vehicle could be what pushed it over the embankment.

  “Here goes nothing,” she muttered, climbing onto the console and reaching down for the leather handle. Another tree splintered sounding like a gunshot. The noise nearly had her tumbling forward headfirst.

  Grabbing one of the handles with her fingertips, and straining her sore shoulder further, she pulled the bag toward her, already moving back toward the door. She cleared the vehicle just as it gave up its perch and plummeted to the rushing river below, the crunch of crushing metal and glass deafening as it echoed around the valley, followed by a huge splash. It rocked once, twice, and then sunk. Only the two feet of the top showed as it anchored near a dam of fallen trees.

  Gideon hollered for her. She turned to find him on his feet, his arms reaching out in front of him.

  “I’m fine. I can’t believe you talked me into going back in there. And I have your damn bag.” Why the hell had she’d actually gone in after it? Dying in a car crash was not how she planned to go out of this world.

  He slumped to the ground with obvious relief, his hand holding his side. “I’m sorry I made you do that. But thank you.”

  “What’s so important about this bag?” She needed to know why she’d risked her life for a piece of leather. Risking her life for another person went with the job, and she got off on sa
ving lives, but risking it for a material possession was a first for her.

  “Test samples from a little girl. I was driving them to the lab in Fairbanks. I didn’t want her to suffer me having to take them again, if I could have helped it, but I never should have asked you to do that. I’m sorry, I’m not thinking straight.” He reached up and rubbed at his eyes again.

  “Are you a doctor?” Her heart melted at his story. Not wanting to cause a little girl more suffering elevated him from not only good-looking, but to a man with good character too. She appreciated both in the men she casually dated.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. We could use one about now. Let’s get you checked out then. Lay down for me.”

  “I think I’m okay, other than the head injury and not being able to see, most likely due from the powder of the air bag. Though I have this pain in my side. Maybe a broken rib?” He said all of this matter-of-factly, but Kennadee heard the underlying panic in his voice.

  “For now, you’re my patient. I’ll be the judge of that.”

  “And, pray tell, what is your training?” he asked skeptically.

  “You have been lucky enough to have been saved by not only a firefighter but also a recently licensed EMT.”

  “My lucky day, indeed,” he smirked. “You forgot to mention your sexy voice.”

  “Save your flirting for the nurses.” She pushed aside his suit jacket and went to work on unbuttoning his moss-green dress shirt. “Good thing you were wearing your seatbelt.” His chest already showed bruising from the force of the belt keeping him in his seat. The bruising was intense, but more worrying was the discoloration spreading under the skin, indicating that he might have internal bleeding. She tenderly felt around his ribs, stopping when he gasped. They needed to get him to a hospital—fast. She turned her attention to the cut on his forehead. The bleeding had slowed, but like all head wounds, it had bled enough to make Gideon look like he’d been in a horror film.