by Kelly Moran
Residual Burn
Redwood Ridge 4
Kelly Moran
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
© COPYRIGHT 2019 by Kelly Moran
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Content Warning: Not intended for persons under the age of 18.
Cover Art Design by: Kelly Moran
Photo Credit: Adobe Images
ISBN: 9780463072561
Smashwords eBook Edition
Published in the United States of America
Praise for Kelly Moran’s Books:
“Breathes life into an appealing story.”
Publishers Weekly
“Readers will fall in love.”
Romantic Times
“Great escape reading.”
Library Journal
“Touching & gratifying.”
Kirkus Reviews
“Sexy, heart-tugging fun.”
USA Today HEA
“Emotional & totally engaging.”
Carla Neggers
“A gem of a writer.”
Sharon Sala
“I read in one sitting.”
Carly Phillips
“Compelling characters.”
Roxanne St. Claire
“A sexy, emotional romance.”
Kim Karr
“An emotionally raw story. A compelling read.”
Katie Ashley
“I devoured the book!”
Laura Kaye
For Kevin, who not only pushed me (ad nauseum) to start writing again after taking a year hiatus, but encouraged me time and time again by reminding me an author is who I am. You are my hero in so very many ways. Thank you for loving me. For his wonderful mother, Barbara, who is the funniest, sweetest, and one of the strongest people I’ve met. My character Jason’s mama was inspired by you. I wanna be you when I grow up. Also, thanks to our cat, Biscuit, who gave me material for the “Dear Jason” texts. Yes, pretty kitty, you’re adorable and you rule the roost. All hail the queen.
I would like to extend a huge thank you to my German translation editor, Anne, for believing in me and this series. Without her patience and understanding, these continuation books in Redwood wouldn’t be possible. And a huge thanks to my German readers who boosted me during some very dark times by all the wonderful things they said about the stories. You guys are the best!
Chapter 1
"You cannot be serious." Hands on his hips, Jason Burkwell glanced up and shook his head, then looked around, expecting to be Punk'd. Maybe they were reincarnating the show just for his benefit.
No cameras. No laughing crowds of hyenas as if he were the butt of an infamous joke.
Sunlight filtered through the budding trees onto the sidewalk and adjacent asphalt street. A soft spring breeze drifted, bringing a hint of snow and pine from the Klamath Mountains in the distance. Other than a couple guys from his unit, there were a few stragglers coming out of their homes to catch the action. All in all, though, it was same ole, same ole in their quaint little postage stamp town.
"I'm always serious." Lou crossed his beefy arms above his paunch, gray mustache twitching. The rustle of his tan and yellow turnout gear crackled over that of the rig's dying siren as he faced Jason. "A call's a call."
Uh, yeah. Ten years as a firefighter at Redwood Ridge's sole station, three of those being a lieutenant, countless emergencies from wildfires to pedestrians in trapped cars, but not once had Jason responded to...
"That's a cat in a tree, Lou." He peeked up at the white ball of fur cowering on a branch. The thing was tiny and maybe a few weeks old. How the hell did it get up there? "This is so cliché, it's a crime."
The two other jugheads in full gear laughed from their positions against the truck.
"Well, aren't you going to get it down?" Mrs. Fieldstone, two-hundred years young if she was a day, frowned at him through coke-bottle glasses. "Quit pussy-footing around."
The jugheads laughed harder at her unintentional quip.
He whipped them a shut-it-or-die glare and faced his former elementary school principal. All four-feet, ninety pounds of her was just as frightening now as she'd been when he'd sat in her office as a boy countless times for whatever he'd done wrong. "Of course. One of us will get right on it."
"It's your turn," Lou grumbled. "I took the last call."
Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, come on. Name any occasion where we've responded to a 911 dispatch about..." He waved his hand at one of the many maples lining the suburban street, barely biting back the retort he would've rather said had scary Mrs. Fieldstone not been standing beside him. "An animal in need."
"Last week." Lou sniffed. "The Sundry's cocker spaniel dug up Gertrude Miller's prize-winning rose bushes. Again. I had to listen to her yammer for thirty minutes. I repeat, it's your turn."
Okay, fine. Yes, most of his job involved non-emergent cases. Fifteen-hundred residents in idealistic small town Oregon, it wasn't like he expected to diffuse bombs. Half the time, he spent his shift playing poker at the station or putting out kitchen fires gone awry. But, dude. A cat in a tree? This was embarrassing.
Parker Maloney pulled up in a PD-issued blue Charger and climbed out of the vehicle. As the sheriff, he didn't wear a custom uniform. Instead, he had on a white tee, open leather jacket, and jeans. Habit put his hand on the holster at his waist while he stepped onto the curb beside Jason.
"What's going on?" Parker removed his sunglasses, exposing green eyes that rarely missed a thing, and shoved his fingers through his black hair. "Everybody okay?"
Jason snorted and bumped his chin toward the branch above their heads.
Up went Parker's brows, lips twitching. "If that's not the most cliché thing I've seen, I'll eat my handcuffs." He leaned closer to whisper out the side of his mouth. "There's a pussy joke in here somewhere."
What a comedian. Jason narrowed his eyes on his best friend since the age of potty training, not surprised he'd thought the same thing moments ago. "Wayne, fetch me the short ladder, would you? Let's get this done." He had a beer with his name on it at Shooters. Hopefully, with a hot woman as a chaser.
"Sure thing, boss."
"Mrs. Fieldstone, you're looking pretty as always." Parker leaned around Jason and winked.
"Pah." She waved her hand and blushed. "Such a sweet boy. Why you still hang around with this hellion is beyond me." She jerked a thumb at Jason and scowled. "Trouble with a capital T."
"That he is, ma'am. I've got an eye on him."
"Keep it up, and I'll tell her who really stole the mascot costume and strung it up the flagpole in seventh grade." Jason ran his tongue over his teeth and accepted the ladder from Wayne.
Positioning it against the tree, he climbed several rungs until he was at shoulder-height with the branch. The white furball trembled and stared at him through big blue saucers. All right. It was kinda cute. He went to reach for it, but it cowered and scooted farther away.
Mew.
"I don't know what you're complaining about. You're not the one losing his man card and self-respect in front of an audience." Unbuttoning his outer gear, he slipped the coat from his shoulders and dropped it on the ground.
A catcall whistled from across the street. "Take it all off, Jason!"
"See?" he murmured to the furbal
l and turned his head. "Now, now, Mrs. Rutherland. What would your husband say?"
Mew.
"I'm comin', I'm comin'." He stretched his arm across the branch, then held his hand still for the cat to sniff. After a beat, the furball eased closer and rubbed against his fingers. "There you go." Gently, he plucked the thing from where it had its claws dug into the bark and set it against his chest. It burrowed into his tee and kneaded, promptly falling asleep. "You're welcome."
As he climbed down, cradling the purring kitten, cheers rang out like he'd saved a group of children from a nitroglycerin factory or something. He rolled his eyes and took a bow while Wayne secured the ladder to the truck.
"That's all, folks." Lou lumbered behind the wheel of the rig, the jugheads jumping in back. "Have a good weekend," Lou called out the window.
"Hold it." Jason ground his jaw. "Where do you think you're going? You're not leaving me here."
"It's officially," Lou glanced at his wrist, where no watch was present, "off-duty o'clock. That fuzzball's not getting in my truck. Parker will drive you back to the station after you figure out where to go with your new girlfriend."
Seething, Jason watched the rig disappear around the corner, then glared at the cat. "Don't get too attached. I don't do relationships." Neighbors began to disperse into their homes and he faced Mrs. Fieldstone. "Here you go. One rescued kitten."
"That's not mine." She lifted her cane in a move Luke Skywalker would've been proud of and shook her head. "You think because I'm an old woman and live alone I have a hoard of felines skulking around? Well, I don't. I hate cats." She looked at Parker. "Arrest him for stereotyping." With that, she did an about-face and hobbled up her front walk.
Jason stood a good five seconds after her door slammed, staring. "Doesn't matter how old I get, she's still a scary broad."
Parker chuckled, the jerk. "You have the right to remain silent. Not sure stereotyping is an actual crime, though. I'll have to check ordinances."
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up." Jason sighed and glanced down. Furball had made itself right at home between his pecs and was vibrating his ribcage. "Now what?"
"Come on. I'll drive you over to the Animal Instincts clinic. The O'Grady boys will know what to do." Parker snatched Jason's coat from the ground and strode to the car. He tossed the jacket in the backseat and held the rear door open for Jason. "Offenders sit in the back."
Narrowing his eyes, Jason dropped in the front seat and finagled the belt. "Explain why I put up with you again," he said as Parker got behind the wheel.
"To wheedle out of speeding tickets?"
Good point.
They were silent as they drove out of the subdivision and onto Main Street. Passing lampposts and storefronts with awnings, Parker slowed to a snail's pace in case one of the many townsfolk crossed without paying attention--a common occurrence. A dense pocket of fog hovered in the distance, near the cliffs hugging the Pacific, and brine hung heavy in the air. Spring fever ran rampant and pastel eggs hung from oak trees lining the cobblestone road.
Jason would’ve rather slept through the season, if it was all the same to him. Easter baskets and jellybeans reminded him of the day his dad died, forever left an itch under his skin and an ache in his chest. Going on twenty years, and it still felt like yesterday Lou had shown up on his mom's doorstep, covered in soot and a haunted look in his eyes.
Maybe it was time to take a weekend trip. Jason was due for another one of his adventures from reality.
Parker turned into the veterinary clinic's lot and cut the engine. Though Jason knew the three O'Grady brothers and their wives, had grown up with them, he hadn't been in the office since he was a boy and their father had run the place.
Together, he and Parker exited the car and headed inside. Animal fur and Lysol blended for an interesting mix of scents. To the left, the waiting room was empty and decorated with a cheerful mural of dogs and cats doing human things. To the right was the front desk, where two women were bent over a chart. A large cage containing a cockatoo sat off to the side and a cat glared balefully from atop the printer.
Avery, Cade's wife, glanced up and smiled. "Hey, guys. We were just closing, but come in." She brushed her wavy brown strands from her face and rocked an infant seat on the counter with her other hand. "What brings you by?"
"Jason got himself a new pet." Parker leaned across the desk and grinned at the newborn sleeping in the carrier. "He's gotten bigger in the couple weeks since I've seen him. May I?"
Since babies made him twitchy, Jason stayed put. Parker was a natural with kids and the family thing, despite not having a wife and little ones of his own. Jason, not so much. He'd rather gnaw off his dominant arm than settle down.
"Oh, sure." She unclasped the harness fit for mountain climbing and passed the bundle to Parker. "Watch it, though. Ovaries will clench all over the Ridge if they see you holding a baby."
A laugh, and Parker shook his head. "I'll risk it. Handsome guy. Good thing he takes after you and not Cade."
"I heard that." Wearing blue scrubs, the youngest O'Grady came out of the back room and kissed his wife's cheek. "Can't disagree, however."
Gabby, Flynn's ball and chain, flicked her blonde ponytail off her shoulder and dropped her gaze to Jason's chest. "Is this the cat you rescued from the tree?"
"Damn. It's been, what? Twenty minutes?" Gossip pretending to be news traveled fast in these parts, but even that was record speed. Jason stroked the kitten's head. "It didn't have any tags."
"Let's take a peek." She came around the desk, rubbing her very pregnant belly. She attempted to take the furball from him, but it let out an angry mewl and clung to his tee, so she withdrew. "Aw, she's already attached. Definitely a girl. Why don't you follow me? Flynn can do a quick exam. He'll be glad to get out of a meeting with the Battleaxes, anyway."
Jason froze. "They're here? As we speak?"
Terror struck his midsection. The Battleaxes, as Cade had once named his mother and two aunts, were meddling busybodies who ruled the town with an iron fist, oatmeal cookies, and a side of matchmaking. They'd set up countless couples over the years and didn't compute the meaning of the word no. Jason had done his level best to stay off their radar.
"Yep." Gabby smiled, turning her head as another brunette entered the room.
Ah, Zoe. He'd always had a soft spot for her. They'd grown up together and their formal communication had primarily been flirtation, even though they'd never hooked up. There were very few women he liked too much to sleep with, and Zoe was numero uno. Besides, she was married to Drake now, the oldest vet brother.
"You can't be that desperate for some action." She grinned and erased the distance, offering an awkward hug with the furball between them. "This chick's not even your species." She petted the kitten.
"Zoe, baby, are you jealous?" He drew her to his side with his free arm and... Hold the phone. Was that a baby bump she was sporting? Had to be. With her waifish body type, it was hard to miss. "Man, not you, too. Is there something in the water? When are you due?"
"September." She pulled a sonogram image from her scrubs pocket. "Meet the newest O'Grady fetus."
"Hell," he grumbled, smiling at the black and white blob. "Grats to you both. But if you were interested in being knocked up, why not call me first?" Not that he was serious. No way, no how. He'd spoil the crap out of Parker's offspring instead if his best buddy ever found his mate.
"Next time."
"I've got an event committee meeting." Avery slung a purse over her shoulder and faced Parker. "Just pass the baby off to Cade when you're tired of holding him." She kissed her husband and the infant's cheek, then rushed out the door.
Speaking of. If the Battleaxes were in the building, Jason needed to bolt also. "Gabby, want to take the furball so I can leave?"
"If Flynn's going to examine her, you'll have to stay and take her home afterward."
"Uh, the cat's not mine. Can't you guys find her a family? You do that, don't you?" His apa
rtment didn't allow pets, even if he did suddenly want the responsibility. Which he didn't.
"Our boarding room is full." She shrugged in a sorry-not-sorry gesture.
Well, crap. He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again when Drake and Flynn emerged, followed by a middle-aged blonde, brunette, and redhead. The breath stalled in Jason’s lungs while his brain screamed abort.
"Parker, Jason, lovely to see you." Marie, town mayor and eldest Battleaxe, puffed her brown bob and clasped her hands. "Jason, how convenient we should bump into you. I was about to head to the station to ask you a favor."
He shot a panicked look at Zoe, but her I-dunno expression was of no help.
If they wanted a favor, one of two things were about to happen. Either they were going to swallow his soul, leaving him indebted to them, or they were attempting to set him up with whoever they thought was his perfect match. There went his ten-year streak of avoiding them. It had been a good run, he supposed.
"Oh, don't look so afraid." Rosa, middle Battleaxe and unnatural redhead, smoothed her cheetah-printed shirt. "It's just a teensy-weensy little thing."
He doubted it and focused on Parker, handing the newborn to Cade, while he thought of an exit strategy. Screaming and running probably wouldn't work. They'd chase him. Or would get their flying monkeys to do it. Flynn was flipping through a chart, and Drake, after covering the bird's cage, picked up the cat off the printer and was halfway down the hall. The guys were of zero assistance.
"We appreciate all you do for our town." Gayle, youngest Battleaxe and the boys' mom, smiled serenely at Jason. Her champagne hair was two shades lighter than Cade's and less strawberry than Flynn's. She was the calmest of the three, but shouldn't be discredited as part of the Cupid Cult, angelic appearance aside. "We thank you for doing your part in keeping us all safe."