by Jane Jamison
They were both part of the Garner Volunteer Fire Department. The department had very little gear and no fire engine. The best they could do was to get the occasional cat out of a tree and hope they could get people out of a house before they were injured or worse. So far, the only call they’d gone on was to watch an old barn hit by lightning burn to the ground. They couldn’t stop the fire, but they did a damn good job of keeping the flames from jumping from the barn to the wheat field next to it.
“How can we sleep at night if we don’t buy the smoke alarms?” Mitch sat on the arm of the couch. “If one of their houses goes up and someone gets hurt or worse, then the money part of it won’t matter any longer.”
“I know. You’re right. We need to be there to stop that damn Norman Hitcher from nixing the idea. He’s so tight he has the first nickel he ever earned.”
“We can’t go.” Mitch was surprised Wy hadn’t beaten him to the punch. “At least not both of us. One of us needs to stay here with Chey.”
It was almost comical to see realization wash over his cousin’s face, then watch his mind start churning. “You’re right. Fine then. You’re better at this kind of thing. You go.”
“The hell I am. You’re the one with the gift of gab. You should go.”
“But everyone likes you better than they do me.”
Mitch chuckled. “Bullshit. Besides, I went to the last one.”
“That wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t help it when Mrs. Tantlen cornered me at the market. I was in DEFCON 1 mode, trying to get out of taking her granddaughter Mildred to the county fair. The last thing I was thinking of was the meeting.”
He had his cousin backed into a corner, and they both knew it. “Doesn’t matter. You missed the meeting and I didn’t. It’s your turn.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing, Wy. Besides, you’ve already gotten a kiss from her. Add the fact that she’s had her hands on you twice now and it’s a done deal. You’re going.”
Wy tunneled a hand through his hair, desperation oozing from him. “You can’t count her examining me in the hospital as putting her hands on me.”
“I can and I do. Hell, she had me wishing I was the one who’d gotten kicked. Now get going.”
Wy took another look at the top of the stairs. “Damn it.”
Mitch smothered back a smile. Wy knew when he was beaten. It just took a minute more for him to admit it.
“Fine. I’ll go. But when I get back, we’re going to talk.”
“About what?” As if he didn’t know.
“As if you don’t know. About her being the one.”
“Yeah?”
“I think it’s a good bet she is.”
“Seriously? You’re thinking along those lines already? We just met her, cuz.” As if he hadn’t gone down the same path. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
He’d weighed all the reasons why they should slow down and give themselves time to get to know her. And yet, no matter how many cons he found against the idea, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Chey was special enough to be their woman.
“When you know, you just know.”
“Yeah. Your father knew.” To admit what he was feeling to himself was hard enough. To say it out loud was even harder. But Wy’s father had known as soon as he’d met his mate. And so had his.
Wy snatched up his pickup keys from the small stand by the front door. “Fine. I’m going.” He pointed at his cousin. “You just make sure you keep her safe.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered. Now get out of here.”
“Safe means safe from you, too.”
Mitch got on his feet and pushed his cousin out the door. “Look who’s talking.”
* * * *
“Where’s Wy?” Chey had just come down the back stairs and into the kitchen to find Mitch stirring up a pot of chili.
“Hey.” The stirring stopped as his attention settled on her.
She wasn’t the type to blush, but his frank perusal had her heating up all over, including her cheeks.
“You look great.” Another moment passed before he started stirring again.
It pleased her to think he noticed her extra effort in getting ready. Her shorts hugged her bottom enticingly, and the silk blouse she wore dipped just far enough in the front to catch a man’s eye.
“Thanks.” She took the last two steps then headed for the table.
“Wy went to a meeting of the volunteer fire department.”
“So you’re not only ranchers and bronc riders, but volunteer firemen, too?”
He dipped the ladle into the pot then spooned chili into first one large bowl then another. “Yeah, well, people often have several jobs in a small town. Helping out with fires and such doesn’t take a lot of time. Fortunately, we don’t have many fires around here. And, by the way, we do more than ride broncs. We also rope calves, and every once in a while we’ll get a wild hair up our butt and try our hand at riding a bull.”
She sat down and crossed her legs. Once again, he followed her movement. The admiration in his eyes could make any woman feel like a million bucks. “Why do you do it? You ride bulls and fight fires. Do you have a death wish or something? Or are you two adrenaline junkies?”
He brought the bowls to the table. “Help yourself to the cheese and crackers. As for the other? We know it’s dangerous, but it’s also a lot of fun. What’s life without a little excitement?”
“I’d rather get my excitement sitting on a beach with a fancy umbrella drink in my hand.”
“An umbrella drink?”
“Yeah. One of those drinks where they put a tiny umbrella in it.”
“Oh, sure.” He began eating, scooping up the chili in heaping spoonfuls.
“Chili in the summer, huh?”
He sat back. “Sorry. Did you want a cold meal instead? I’m a chili fiend.”
“No, no. This is fine. In fact, it’s delicious.” She took another bite to prove it.
Would he ask her about her kissing Wy? Or had the men talked about it? Although she was dying to ask him about sharing a woman, she didn’t want to give him any ideas.
Maybe it was due to the long ride to the ranch. Or maybe it was simply their way of growing comfortable with each other. Whatever the reason, they concentrated on eating, and before long, the chili was gone.
One question had stuck with her since leaving the hospital. “How long am I going to stay? I can’t just forget about my work and my patients. Who knows if George will even try to hurt me?”
“George? So you’re on a first name basis with him now?”
“I guess so. It’s strange, but, yeah. I used to call him Mr. Glasson, but in some weird way, he’s become George in my mind.”
“You told me a little back at the hospital, but what happened with him anyway?”
She hated to think about the night George’s wife had come into the ER. Hated even more to talk about it. But Mitch deserved to know all of it. “He had a car accident and she died. The official report says she had a heart attack. She was already dead by the time I saw her. But I had to try to revive her.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”
“What?” Did he think she could accept death so easily?
“If you knew she was already gone, then by trying to help her, you gave him false hope. And helping her made him think she was still alive until you lost her.”
“I see your point, but I had to try.” She pushed her bowl away. “I just had to.”
“I get it. But I don’t think he did.”
“So how long do you think I need to hide out?”
“The way your security guy Al and we figure it, the man needs more time to get over his loss. Al’s talking to the hospital to see if they can help him in any way. A support group or therapy. Anything to get him over his anger. Once he’s calmed down, then it’ll be okay for you to go back to San Antonio.”
“But who knows how long that’ll take? He might need t
herapy for months, even years. I’m not stopping my life because of him.” She’d agreed to come along with Mitch and Wy because she’d been shaken up by the gunshot. But now that time had passed, she could think with a clearer head.
“You won’t have to. Once George can see reason, he’ll back off. I bet it’s not the first time a grieving person has hurled threats at a doctor.”
“No, it’s not.” It didn’t happen often, but it did happen. Usually, within hours, the loved one had settled down. Or contacted a lawyer to file a lawsuit. Why had she gotten the one person who wanted to put a bullet in her head instead of suing her?
“Besides, doc, we don’t know for sure it was George who shot at you. Or even if the shooter was aiming for you.”
“Yes to both.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s not the kind of thing we get often. Trust me. My gut says it was him.” She let out a long, hard breath. “So I’m here until Al says it’s safe to come home. Fine. Can we talk about something else now?”
“Sure thing. Shoot. I forgot the wine.”
She patted the napkin to her mouth and, again, caught him watching her. “How about we take a glass out to the porch? I don’t get to see many stars in San Antonio because of the city lights. I’ll bet they’re really bright out here.”
“You mean, in the middle of nowhere? Yeah, they are.” Mitch took her dish along with his to rinse them out in the sink. “You grab the wine glasses on the counter there and I’ll get the wine opened then join you on the porch.”
“Sounds good.”
She chose the rocking chair in the middle of the set of four then placed the glasses on the small table to her right. Mitch came out and took the chair next to her, then filled both glasses before putting the bottle down.
She took a sip of the fragrant wine and did her best not to make a face. Although she wasn’t an expert of wines, she knew when she liked one and when she didn’t.
“It sucks, right?” He swirled the red liquid around in his glass.
“I’m sorry. I tried not to let it show. But if you like it, then go ahead. Don’t worry about me.”
He set his glass down. “Naw, you’re right. It tastes like rotten feet. But it was the only wine we had in the house. I’d planned on offering it to you while we ate the chili and counting on the chili covering up some of its flavor. Or the other way round.”
“No, the chili was good. But this wine? Not so much.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I could get us a couple of cold beers. Do you drink beer?”
“Sure. Or did you think because I’m a doctor that I only drink the expensive stuff?”
“Yeah, well, doctors can afford good wine. We can’t. We’d rather drink beer anyway.” He moved toward the door. “I’ll be back in a sec with the beers.”
He was quick, returning in only a few minutes. She took the cold bottle then drank a long sip.
“Did you want a glass?”
“Mitch, what I want is for you to sit down and relax. I’m fine with a bottle.” Having him wait on her was kind of pleasant and a nice change from her lonely apartment. “The stars are beautiful.”
“Yeah, they are.” He took his seat then rested the heel of his boots on the porch railing. “I don’t think I could ever live in a city with all those people and cars. Plus, not being able to see the stars would make me sadder than a bee without a flower.”
“I’ve never heard that saying before. It’s almost poetic.”
He sputtered on his next sip. “Don’t let Wy hear you. He’d never let me live it down.”
“Is it so bad for a man to say nice things?” His legs traveled on forever. As it had been for most of the day, his cowboy hat was tipped back on his head. He was a man completely in his element, a king of all he surveyed.
“No. I guess it’s okay. As long as you don’t think I’m getting in touch with my feminine side too much.”
She smiled as the bottle pressed against her lips. “Sweet I can see. But feminine? Mitch, you are in no way feminine.”
He lifted his beer in gratitude. “Thanks. For a minute I thought I was going to have to wrestle a bear to get my Man Card back.”
She enjoyed sitting on the porch with him. The only way the night could’ve been made better was if Wy would’ve been sitting on the other side of her.
“Do you have family in the area?” Her question was one anyone might’ve asked, but without warning, it meant more to her than idle conversation. She wanted to know as much about Mitch and Wy as she could.
“Nope. Just Wy and me.”
“So you like living out on your own? Without any family nearby?”
She’d give anything to have a large family with siblings who weren’t in and out of trouble. Holidays and celebrations would include aunts and uncles, parents who doted on their offspring, and lots and lots of children. Her siblings rarely spoke to each other and only contacted her whenever they needed money. To her way of thinking, they weren’t a real family any longer.
“Maybe we don’t have folks in Garner, but we’ve got a lot of friends. Men I’m proud to call friends and brothers, even if we’re not related. People we can count on to be there when things get rough. They’d do anything for us and we’d do the same for them. They’re our family.”
“Men like Jarrod and Seth Hill?” She didn’t need to know them to realize they were good guys. Guys people could trust and rely on. If the Wilson cousins thought highly of them, then so could she.
“Yeah. And plenty of others, too.”
“What about children?” She’d almost started to ask him if what Wy had said was true. Did he want to share a woman, too? But then her mouth had gotten ahead of her brain.
He studied her as though sensing she hadn’t thought the question through. Or did he sense that it needed more than a simple answer?
“Wy and I want a ton of kids. We’d have enough for our own baseball team.”
Both of them. So does that mean he does want to share?
Not that she wasn’t going to probe further. “Each of you? I don’t know how many players are on a team, but it has to be more than four or five. You’re talking about a lot of kids. And all boys?”
“Naw. Not for the both of us. Between us and our woman.”
There it is. Between them and their woman. One woman for the both of them.
She took a sip to hide her excitement.
He set his boots on the floor then shifted toward her. “There’s at least seven on a team, depending on how many are sitting on bench. And no, I’m not talking about all boys. Wy and I aren’t sexist.”
Think. Keep talking. Ask another question.
“And would you want your kids to break broncs and ride bulls?” He’d leaned in even closer. Had the night suddenly gotten hotter?
“If they want. Although I’d like our girls to stick to barrel racing and stay away from the bulls. Human and otherwise.”
Our girls.
He had to be talking about him and Wy. He couldn’t be including her. And yet, the idea that he might be lit her up inside.
When he got onto his feet and moved in front of her, he morphed the heat into a raging fire. She dragged another sip of her beer, first to give her something to do as he grew closer. Hopefully, the cold drink would cool her down. She’d barely taken the bottle from her lips when he pulled it away and set it on the table.
“What do you want, Chey?” He pressed a finger to her lips, cutting off her answer. “Other than being a doctor. What do you want in your private life? A husband? Babies?”
She swallowed, her throat dry even after drinking. His eyes locked to hers, making it even more difficult to think. What did she want? Her life had consisted of only school and work for so long, she’d forgotten that anything other than those two things existed in the world.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? How can you not know? You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”
“I do
n’t remember if I have.” Could he tell she was lying? Maybe she’d forgotten about a world outside of medicine, but her dreams hadn’t. Now that he’d made her think about it, she could remember them. Dreams where she had the large family she’d yearned for all through childhood. The ones where a man would stand beside her, supporting her and taking some of the weight of the world off her shoulders.
“You’re kidding. I thought all girls dream about getting married and having babies.”
The cocoon of passion he’d started dissolved. “Because that’s what women are supposed to do?” Pushing out of the chair, she forced him to straighten up. “I thought you weren’t sexist?”
“I’m not. But—”
She poked her finger against his chest. His oh-so-hard chest. Yet it was safer to go on the defensive than it was to let the dreams take over. “But nothing. Not every little girl dreams of a knight in shining armor.”
He shoved her shoulder, not hard, but hard enough to plop her back onto her chair. “But I bet you did. Naw, Chey, don’t try to deny it. I saw the yearning in your eyes when we were talking about kids. You’re a strong, independent woman, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want what we all want. Kids. A family.”
She wanted to tell him she was a professional who’d never given having a family any thought. How many times had she told the same thing to other men? But with Mitch, she couldn’t.
His gaze dropped to her lips. “You kissed Wy.”
Was it a statement or an accusation? “Yes.”
“Did you like it?”
“What?” What kind of a man asked about his friend’s kiss?
Yet since he wanted the truth, she’d keep on giving it to him. “Yes.”
“Good. But you’re going to like mine even better.” Taking his hat off, he tossed it away.
Unlike Wy’s kiss, Mitch’s kiss was rough, demanding. He pushed her back, her head against the wood of the rocker as he gripped her hair and held her to him. The urgency, the out-and-out passion of his kiss overwhelmed her, leaving her surprised and unable to react. His tongue swept into her mouth, teasing hers, then was gone. Nibbles and tugs on her lips brought a moan from somewhere deep inside her.