His Only Wife. Cathy Mcdavid

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СКАЧАТЬ been low on his list of priorities.”

      As it had yesterday on the porch with Gage and her grandmother, reminiscing made Aubrey fidgety. “Tell me about your children,” she said. “Do you have any pictures?”

      Trust a mother’s pride in her offspring. To Aubrey’s vast relief, Eleanor immediately switched gears and for the next several minutes they enjoyed an amiable conversation. One that didn’t twist Aubrey’s stomach into knots.

      “I’ve really enjoyed visiting, but I need to get back to work,” Eleanor said with reluctance. “I’m on duty until seven.”

      “It’s been great. I hope we can do it again while I’m here.”

      “Oh.” Eleanor’s eyebrows lifted. “You aren’t staying for good?”

      “No. Only until my grandmother recovers.”

      If she did recover. The chances of an elderly person leading a fully independent life after breaking a hip weren’t good. But Aubrey refused to dwell on statistics. Rather, she and her grandmother would take it one step at a time.

      After a goodbye hug, Aubrey and Eleanor parted company. The TV blared in the background as Aubrey headed down the center of the large room. Men still slept in the cots, some of them snoring soundly.

      She was about ten feet from the front door when it swung open and another group of Hotshots entered. These firefighters were wearing navy blue T-shirts, as opposed to black, she noted, and included a woman among their ranks. Knowing they must be tired and hungry, Aubrey stepped aside to let them pass, smiling at their nods and hellos, until the last man stepped through the door.

      Upon seeing him, her smile froze.

      Like the other Hotshots, he was dirty and grimy and smelled of smoke. Black smears covered his face and arms. Sweat plastered his short black hair to his head. A combination of sun, heat and wind had turned his tanned complexion dark and ruddy. Bits of debris clung to his clothing, and there was a jagged tear in the knee of his pants.

      He looked tough and rugged and strong enough to hammer nails with his bare knuckles. He also looked sexy as hell.

      The fluttering thing started again in Aubrey’s middle. Only today it resembled propellers on a twin-engine plane rather than butterfly wings.

      “Aubrey! What are you doing here?”

      “Hi. I…uh…brought some food.”

      As a boy, he’d been cute. As a teenager, handsome. But Gage Raintree as a man fully grown was utterly breathtaking.

      “Are you leaving already?” he asked.

      “Actually, I’ve been here a while. And yes, I am leaving.”

      The other Hotshots had moved on ahead, leaving the two of them as alone as they could be in a large room full of people.

      Gage took a step back and pushed open the door with one hand, the corded muscles of his arm standing out. “Here. I’ll walk you to your car.”

      Oh, no, thought Aubrey. What now? Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The problem was, after getting one look at him, she really didn’t want to do either of those things.

      GAGE ENTERTAINED no doubts he would somehow get Aubrey alone and harbored no qualms about doing whatever was necessary to accomplish that end. He didn’t blame her for her obvious reluctance; they had a lot of unresolved stuff still hanging over their heads. And just because he was ready and willing to tackle some of that unresolved stuff didn’t mean she felt the same.

      A sense of satisfaction filled him when she finally relented and agreed to let him accompany her outside. As a result, he now had the enjoyment of following her to her SUV. And it was definitely enjoyable.

      She wore jeans today. Low-riders. And a snug little blouse that revealed a modest band of creamy flesh. When she moved just right, he could see her belly button. A definite plus. Her short, bouncy hair had been pulled off her face with a headband, but several tendrils escaped, falling into her eyes.

      Eyes that watched his every move.

      Since running into Aubrey, Gage had dwelled on little else except her. Even the fire had taken a mental backseat, which was unusual for him. He tended to throw himself into firefighting to the exclusion of everything else, which caused a significant number of rifts with his family. To say his father disapproved of Gage being a firefighter was the understatement of the century.

      When he and Aubrey reached her SUV, she reached for the driver-side door handle. Anticipating just such a move, he blocked her with his body.

      “Sorry about leaving everything a mess yesterday,” he said, leaning against the door. “When I get called, I have to report immediately.”

      “It’s no problem.” She dug impatiently through her purse for her car keys. “I moved what I could into the garage, if that’s all right.”

      “I’ll call Hannah. Have her stop by and pick it up.”

      “Don’t bother. It’s not hurting anything.”

      “Thanks. That’ll save me making a second trip between the ranch and the house.”

      “How’s the fire? I saw on the news it’s only five percent contained.”

      A question. Good. Maybe she wasn’t as skittish as she appeared. “We had a lucky break today with the weather, which is encouraging. But you can never predict for sure when it comes to fires, so I’m not packing my gear just yet.”

      “I admit I was a little surprised to learn you’re a wilderness firefighter. When did that happen?”

      “About four years ago. My friend Marty recruited me. I told you about him. He’s with the Pineville radio station. We met when the old Hunt Museum and General Store burned down, and he came out to do a live broadcast.”

      “I took it for granted you ran the ranch with your dad.” She gave a little shrug. “Since that was, well, that was always…”

      “My plan. Yeah, well, it’s still my dad’s plan.”

      “He doesn’t like you being a firefighter?” Her eyebrows knitted, then lifted. “I think he’d be proud.”

      Gage expelled a long breath. “It’s not that he doesn’t like me being a firefighter, just not now. Between his gout attacks and Hannah commuting back and forth during the week to the agricultural college in Pineville, running the ranch falls mostly to me.”

      “And firefighting has a tendency to cut into your chores.”

      “In a big way. It’s a forty-hour-a-week job during the season. Double that when we’re at a fire.”

      “What do you do when you’re not fighting fire?”

      “Clear roads of hazards, burn control fires, training. It’s never-ending.”

      “You’ve taken on quite a load,” she observed.

      “More so now that we’re participating in the СКАЧАТЬ