Playing With Fire

by Alison Bliss

  I’d given up on finding love. Not that I’d ever done much in the way of searching for it. With love, came loss. And I wasn’t willing to lose—or readily give—another piece of myself to anyone. I’d seen for myself what kind of damage a man could do to a woman’s mind, body, and soul. Much less a girl’s heart.

  A half hour went by before an elderly lady from the Genealogy Society approached my desk to schedule their monthly meetings for the Rotary Room. I smiled at her, then spotted Cowboy leering at me from ten feet away. Somehow, I had unknowingly blipped back onto his radar. My stomach twisted with nervousness as my trembling fingers wrote down the meeting dates the woman gave me.

  After she walked away, I busied myself by filing forms into the bottom cabinet. Okay, so maybe I was ducking to keep him from looking at me. Whatever.

  A few wispy strands of my hair slipped free from the clip on the back of my head and hung down in my face while I worked. As I pushed one back, I remembered the way Cowboy’s fingers had grazed my cheek the night before and shivered. His slight touch had left me with a pleasant feeling, but it wasn’t something I could allow myself to indulge in. Part of why I was steering clear of him and coming off downright antisocial like an ungrateful shrew. It was easier that way.

  As heavy footsteps approached, I straightened in my chair, bumping my head on the desk. I winced and gave it a quick rub, glancing over to see if anyone else—basically Cowboy—had noticed. He tipped back in his chair, an amused grin playing on his perfectly stupid lips. The prick.

  Ignoring his smug look, I smiled sweetly to the gentleman standing at my desk and offered my assistance. He was one of our regular card-holders and I’d seen him almost daily since I’d started there. Once I finished helping him check out a crime novel he’d reserved, the kind old man gave me a quick pat on my hand to thank me and moved along.

  I glanced back to Cowboy and caught an odd look on his confused face. It was a what-the-hell expression, if I’d ever seen one. Setting his teeth, he rose from his seat, picked up his book, and headed in my direction.

  My gaze immediately darted back to my computer screen.

  “Mind if I pester you for a minute?” he asked.

  “Did you have a question…about the book?” I kept my eyes forward and my tone polite and professional.

  “I have a lot of questions, actually, but none are book-related.”

  “Then I’m busy,” I replied, not showing even marginal interest in him.

  “Anna…?” When I didn’t answer him, he reached across the desk and brushed my arm, sending my nervous system into overdrive. I jolted out of my chair, which made his mouth contort into a perplexed frown. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, I just…don’t want you to touch me.” Jeez. When did I become such a liar? “Now if you’ll excuse me…” I walked away from the counter and headed down one of the aisles before he had a chance to follow me. I weaved through the maze of bookshelves until I came to a dead end in the back corner of the library.

  Breathing heavily, I hid behind a bookcase, monitoring him discreetly through the shelves as he combed the aisles searching for me. I knew it was silly to hide. Like a child, really. But I needed a moment to calm my nerves and build some much needed courage, which only made me feel more foolish.

  It was the same reaction I’d had at eighteen when I’d spent two weeks working as an activities coordinator at a nearby summer camp. Bobbie Jo had been a counselor, as well as one of my bunkmates, and the two of us had hit it off.

  That’s where I’d met Cowboy.

  The guys’ quarters sat on the opposite end of camp, but first chance Bobbie Jo had, she introduced me to “her boys,” as she called them. Jake had been her boyfriend at the time, but the others—Ox, Judd, and Cowboy—were her best friends. It wasn’t until later I found out she’d roped them all into applying as a counselor so they could spend their last two weeks together before Jake left for college.

  Upon meeting them, all of them were nice, of course. But Cowboy had been the one who stuck out in my mind all these years.

  Right after I’d stammered my way through the mortifying introductions, one of the other female volunteers had stopped by with a camera and asked us all to smile for a group photo. Without hesitation, Cowboy had winked at me, slung his heavy arm over my shoulders, pulled me close into his warm body, and grinned devilishly for the camera. That was the moment I’d fallen for Prince Charming himself.

  After the photo, when he tried to disengage his arm, his gold watch had caught on my shirt sleeve, lifting it slightly and revealing a small patch of red skin on the inside of my arm. With heated cheeks, I’d quickly yanked my sleeve down and tried to hide it by fidgeting with my clothes. It was too late.

  Cowboy had noticed and said, “What’s wrong with your arm? You get into some poison sumac or something?”

  When I didn’t respond, he shrugged it off and flirted with the cute blonde behind the camera. I’d wanted to talk to him, make him see me, but hated the idea of drawing attention to myself. So I said nothing.

  After that incident, I’d clammed up whenever he was near, which had only been a few more times. I decided avoiding him altogether would be my best option if I wanted to form coherent sentences for the duration of my stay. But that didn’t stop me from spending the next two weeks stealing glances at him from the shadows of my cabin window while every girl at camp threw themselves in his direction.

  When camp had come to an end, I’d exchanged information with my new friend, Bobbie Jo, and over the years we’d kept in touch, sending pictures and letters back and forth. That’s how I’d received my own copy of that very photo—the same picture that had sat on my nightstand in a wooden frame for the last ten years.

  Ridiculous, I know.

  I’d told myself I kept it out where I could see it because it was the only picture I had of Bobbie Jo and I together. But in it, I’d gazed up at Cowboy with wide, admiring eyes and a full-on smile, while he looked straight ahead, unaware of the pitiful, lonely girl at his side. God, I’m pathetic. The arm slung over my shoulders in the photo had meant nothing to him.

  Forcing out a deep breath, I slouched against the shelves and shook my head. So what if I felt foolish. Maybe I was a fool. After all, what woman in her right mind would still get butterflies in her stomach from just being near a man she’d had a crush on ten years earlier? Especially when the same man all but accused her of arson.

  I sighed. Me, that’s who.

  “Do I have bad breath or something?”

  I jumped, flailing my arms, then clutched my heaving chest. I wheeled around to see Cowboy leaning lazily against the shelf as he eyed me curiously. “Good Lord. Don’t scare me like that!”

  A triumphant grin played on his lips as he stepped closer. In an evasive maneuver, I tried to hurry past him, hoping to escape with my dignity somewhat intact, but he stepped in my path. “Anna, wait. I just want to talk to you for a minute.”

  I stopped, but refused to look him in the eye. “What do you want?”

  “Well, to start off, I’d like to know what I did to deserve the cold shoulder from you. If I upset you by calling you Sparky last night—”

  “No,” I said, glancing down at my feet. “It has nothing to do with that.”

  It wasn’t like Cowboy even knew the significance behind the camp nickname the other counselors had teased me with. He hadn’t been there to witness my freak-out the night of the bonfire. Thank goodness.

  Instead, he’d been sucking face with Kelly Deter in the woods. With both hands up her skirt, according to her testimony the next day. Bobbie Jo hadn’t been at the bonfire, either. Probably because she’d been doing the same thing with Jake.

  “If I offended you last night by asking you to come down to the station…”

  I shook my head. “I wasn’t offended. I just found the whole thing unnecessary. I didn’t start the fire.”

  “Never said you did.”

  “No, but you insinuated I could
have, which was close enough. I have no idea why you’d even think that, anyway. Do I look like the kind of person who goes around starting fires?”

  He held up his hand, showing me the book on household fire accelerants. “You knew exactly where this book was located. The exact location.”

  “It’s my job to—”

  “I also remembered where else I’ve seen you,” he interrupted, crossing his arms. “Last week, you were at the big brush fire we had out on County Road 320.”

  I sighed. I hadn’t realized he’d spotted me. “I was driving past when I saw the smoke. I hardly think that’s a crime, though. Lots of other people were stopping to take a look as well.”

  “Yeah, but you’re the only one who climbed on the hood of her car with a pair of binoculars. Let’s just say you stood out in the crowd.”

  I mentally cringed, but kept my face even. “So what? I was just curious. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Well, add all of those things in with you dodging my questions and refusing to come down to the station, only to have me find you at the cemetery visiting a grave of a man you supposedly didn’t know—one who happened to be my chief—and I think you can see why anyone would be a little suspicious.”

  “I didn’t know him!” I whispered loudly.

  He shrugged. “Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. But since you’re avoiding my questions, it’s not like I would know that, now would I?”

  My eyes narrowed. “Fine. You want to ask me something? Then do it.”

  “Anything?”

  I couldn’t stop the irritation from leaching into my voice. “Yes, anything.”

  Cowboy didn’t hesitate. “Why would you visit a dead man you don’t know?” He lifted a brow, waiting for my answer.

  My heart pounded furiously against my rib cage, as if it were sounding an alarm to alert my brain to Cowboy’s underlying motive. He was obviously trying to make a connection between me and the chief. As suspicious as he already was, I’d be an idiot to give him any ammunition to use against me.

  But I had said I would answer, and if anything, I was a woman of my word. Here goes nothing. “I—”

  A loud siren suddenly pierced the air, rendering me silent. It was coming from the black pager on his belt loop. Thank heavens. His cell phone chirped three times in a row, and Cowboy glanced at the information on the screen. He cursed under his breath and handed me the book he held. “There’s a bad accident out on the highway. We’ll finish our conversation later.”

  He turned and, not looking back, hurried for the exit. As I watched him disappear from sight, only one thought entered my mind.

  God, I hoped not.

  Chapter Four

  “Thanks again for inviting me to the chili cook-off,” I said as I climbed into the passenger seat of Bobbie Jo’s tan Ford truck.

  “No problem. I thought it would be nice for the new girl in town to meet some of the other locals.” She pulled out of the driveway and cruised down the dark narrow back roads, lined with thick red oaks and barbed wire fences.

  Coming from the opposite direction, a car’s headlights shined directly into the truck’s cab. I glanced into the empty backseat and frowned. “You didn’t bring Austin with you?”

  “No, I was afraid the noise and lights might be too much for him, so my mom is keeping an eye on him. When I get back, I’m sure he’ll be sleeping soundly in her arms. She hardly ever puts him down. Spoils him rotten.”

  “That’s sweet she helps you with him.”

  Bobbie Jo nodded. “I don’t know what I’d do without her. I mean, I guess I’d figure it out, but I’m glad I don’t have to. If only Jeremy would…”

  “Jeremy would what? Come around more, share the responsibilities, support his child, or maybe grow up and be a man?”

  She grinned. “All of the above.”

  Up ahead, the bustling fairgrounds came into view and my eyes widened. Bright and colorful carnival lights flashed as swarms of people milled around beneath them. Bobbie Jo slowed the truck to turn left into the parking area where a man wearing a fluorescent orange vest directed traffic with a yellow cone-shaped wand. With a sly wink, he waved us straight ahead where there was a closer parking space. Bobbie Jo gave him a friendly smile.

  Being raised in the anonymity of larger cities, I found it fascinating that the people recognized and knew each other so well in this close-knit town. From my understanding, most had lived their whole lives there, growing up together, then raising their families alongside one another. As new residents moved in, they were taken under the locals’ wings and treated as one of their own.

  I should know. I’d only been the librarian for two weeks, and I’d already been brought more home-baked goods than I could stand to eat. All the older women had formed their own unofficial welcoming party. Such a lovely gesture of the inherent kindness and goodness of the people in Liberty County.

  Too bad I’d have to leave it behind in a few months.

  Bobbie Jo maneuvered her pickup into a tight space where we both had to squeeze out just to ensure we didn’t hit the truck doors on the vehicles on either side. We met at the tailgate. “Not much room to park,” she said with a laugh. “These things are always so packed.”

  “You were lucky your secret admirer over there reserved you a closer spot,” I said, motioning to the guy directing the traffic.

  “Fred? Nah, he’s just a friend from school.” She wrinkled her nose. “I can’t bring myself to date a guy I grew up with. It’d be like dating my cousin or something. Gross.”

  I laughed and glanced toward the entrance.

  Even from the parking area, the loud music vibrated inside my chest and something sinfully sweet permeated the air. My mouth watered. “I’ve never been to anything like this before.”

  “Ever?”

  I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure my stepfather was allergic to anything fun. I…” I hesitated, not sure if I should say anything more.

  Years ago, I’d vaguely mentioned to Bobbie Jo how I’d lost both of my parents in a tragic accident, yet I’d never gone into specifics about my strained relationship with my stepfather. But I didn’t want to hold back too much. She was the first person I’d ever felt close to…and would also be the last.

  “I went to the library for hours after school every day just to avoid going home. I never admitted to him that I enjoyed my time at the library because I was afraid he’d put a stop to it.” Her eyes widened, and I realized how it must’ve sounded. “He didn’t abuse me or anything,” I quickly added. “My stepfather was just a lost, lonely man who lived every day of his dull life in a dismal state.”

  “God, that’s terrible. He sounds like a miserable guy.” Bobbie Jo paused thoughtfully. “Almost makes me wonder why he let you work at the camp all those years ago. I guess he thought it was all work and no play.”

  “Actually, I was eighteen and living on my own by then. He didn’t have a say in what I did.”

  “You were living on your own…at eighteen? Jesus, Anna. I didn’t know that. We were roomies and you never said a word.”

  I shrugged nonchalantly. “I wasn’t going to burden you with my problems. Besides, it was fine. I was better off on my own. It may have been a little lonely for me at times, but meeting you at camp was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  Then I remembered that our time together, as well as our friendship, was going to be coming to an end soon and my heart sank. My vision blurred slightly from the building tears threatening to fall.

  Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. Bobbie Jo’s glistening eyes shone brightly in the blinking lights. “Now stop that before you make me cry.”

  I blinked back the moisture pooling in my eyes and offered her a sincere smile. Bobbie Jo was the only true friend I’d ever really had…even though I’d never shared my secrets with her. She had no clue our friendship would be ending, without warning, in just a few short months when I dropped off the face of the plane
t and moved to a place no one would ever find me. But it wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter.

  She giggled gleefully as she looped her arm through mine and dragged me toward the entrance. “Come on, you’re going to love this.”

  We strolled into the fairgrounds as Bobbie Jo explained all about how a chili cook-off worked. The contestants were composed of teams from various local clubs and organizations. They gave themselves fun, clever names and even dressed the part. For example, the ladies of the Genealogy Society were dressed as sexy saloon girls and called themselves the “Red Hot Ladies,” while the men from the Moose Lodge were dressed as meat market butchers and called themselves the “Blazin’ Butts.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Since it was Friday night, the early start gave each group a chance to perfect their homemade dish before judgment day because each team’s chili would be judged by a panel of pre-selected officials in a blind taste test on Saturday afternoon. I had to work the next day, so I wouldn’t be able to attend, but it didn’t matter. Throughout the entire weekend, they sold samples to the masses to earn money for their local club’s individual fundraisers. Which meant we could be unofficial taste-testers while donating money to great local causes.

  We started at the first chili vendor and worked our way down the line, purchasing small sample cups from each and comparing one’s flavor, texture, and heat level to the next. The degrees in temperature ranged from sweet to spicy to holy-crap-I-think-they-slipped-me-a-habanero, and they all tasted amazingly different. Who knew there were so many different ways to make chili?

  As we reached the last vendor, I froze in my tracks. Apparently, the firefighters had a booth and their long line brimmed with an overabundance of female customers. The firemen’s team name was “Too Hot To Handle” and they were serving chili in their bunker gear. While they wore pants, suspenders, boots, and even their helmets, the brawny men all seemed to be conveniently missing their shirts. And the ladies didn’t seem to mind.