Born to Be a Cowboy Page 33

  Casey shook her head. “You really think it was Shane? I mean, the guy carries around resentment like no one’s business, but that seems a little over the top even for him.”

  Ivy winced. “I don’t know. He and Carter have been butting heads since the day Carter stepped foot in the station. We were just as shocked when Shane ended up in jail. Maybe this isn’t out of character at all.”

  Carter took another long, slow pull of his beer. “At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who it is if I can’t win over the trust of my company.”

  There was a finality in his voice that made the hair on the back of Ivy’s neck stand up.

  “So, what does this mean?” she asked.

  “It means I’m on leave for the weekend. Captain’s taking over my crew. And by the end of next week, I may be out of a job. Leaving Houston for Meadow Valley made sense not simply for the job but also because I had family here. I could find another station in a different city or state, but at my age, a résumé that shows me having already left two stations? That doesn’t give me a very reliable track record. If I haven’t burned a bridge, I could ask for my job back in Houston. But if they say no…” He let out a bitter laugh. “There’s always my father’s auto shop. I bet he’d love me coming home with my tail between my legs, begging for what I told him I didn’t want anymore.” He finished his beer in one final gulp, then slapped some bills on the bar.

  “Oh you don’t—” Casey started, but Carter interrupted.

  “It’s way less than what I owe you since I got here, but I don’t want to fuel the notion that I take handouts. Thanks, anyway,” he said. He turned to Ivy. “I’m not gonna be good company tonight.” Then he kissed her, his lips lingering on hers even after the kiss ended. “But I sure am happy I got to do that,” he finally added. “I’m glad you texted.”

  Then he stood, pivoted toward the door, and left.

  Ivy sat there, dumbfounded, staring at the door for several long moments after it closed behind him. She’d been so scared to lose Carter in the worst way possible that she never had considered him having to leave town.

  “You okay?” Casey asked, breaking the silence.

  “No,” she said, turning to face her friend. “Case, what if he leaves?”

  Casey nodded. “What if you go out there and tell him how you feel and see if that makes a difference? Maybe if you let him know you’re willing to fight for him, he’ll fight for a way to stay. All I know is not telling him how you feel will make you always wonder what would have happened if you did.”

  Ivy’s eyes widened. “Are we still talking about me and Carter, or does this have something to do with Boone Murphy’s recent engagement?” Ivy had been so wrapped up in everything Carter that she’d forgotten Casey’s high school sweetheart was marrying someone else.

  Casey rolled her eyes. “You’re deflecting, Ives. What this is about is not regretting a missed opportunity. If you love the guy, tell him. It’s as simple as that.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. Casey was right. She loved Carter, and he loved her. Once they said it aloud for real, everything would be different, wouldn’t it? They could figure this job thing out together.

  “I said I was going to tell him, which means I have to go tell him.”

  Casey nudged her shoulder. “Then get off your ass and go do the thing instead of talking about doing the thing.”

  She glanced down at Carter’s cash on the counter, then back at her friend. “You’re okay if I don’t make a similar monetary gesture, right? I’ll cover your next closing shift for free.”

  Casey raised her brows. “Yeah, you will. Now go!”

  Ivy hopped off her stool and bounded toward the door just as she started to smell smoke. She pushed the tavern door open to the blaring sound of sirens filling the street. Along with it came the ringing of the firehouse bell, which meant only one thing.

  For the first time in years, there was a real fire in Meadow Valley. And even though he was off duty, amid the ensuing chaos she saw Carter Bowen running across the street, straight toward the firehouse.

  Chapter Ten

  This was bad. He could already smell the smoke, and the air had taken on the type of haze that meant whatever was burning was feeding a fire that was growing.

  “Carter!” he heard from behind him, and spun to see Ivy running toward him.

  “I have to go, Ivy!” he called back.

  She was out of breath when she stopped in front of him. “But you don’t,” she insisted. “You’re—you’re off duty. Lieutenant Heinz and his team will take care of whatever’s happening.”

  “Ivy. You don’t have to be a firefighter to know that whatever’s happening probably needs more than one crew. Even when I’m off duty, I’m still on call. And I’m answering the damn call.”

  She pressed her hands to his chest as the first emergency vehicle pulled out of the station. The engine would be next, which meant he needed to hurry.

  “Please,” she said, her brown eyes shining. He wasn’t sure if it was the threat of tears or because of the smoke in the air.

  “Are you asking me not to do my job? Because I thought we were past this. I thought you were okay with what I did.” Yet he didn’t really trust her, did he? Or he’d have said how he felt to her face rather than when she was still asleep.

  “And I thought you were done trying to prove yourself. You just told me you were on leave for the weekend, which means you don’t have to go. I can’t—” She swiped underneath one eye. “When you said you might have to go back to Houston, I knew right then that I’d beg you to stay, that I couldn’t lose you. And now?” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I can’t do it, Carter. I can’t watch you run head on into a life-threatening situation when there are plenty of others who are prepared to do so. It’s selfish of me to ask, and I have no right to do so, but I am begging you, Carter—begging you to stay safe.”

  The chief’s voice sounded on his radio. “All available crews report. I repeat, all available crews report.”

  “I have to go, Ivy,” he said firmly. “And you’re wrong. I do need to prove that I’m what this company needs, that I’m capable of leading my crew into any situation and bringing them all home—safe, myself included. This is what I do. We’re not tying up horses on the top of a hill and acting like what’s down here doesn’t exist. I can’t pretend for you anymore.”

  “I love you,” she said. It wasn’t another plea or a last-ditch effort to get him to stay. He could hear the sincerity in the tremor of her voice. And, God, he knew what she’d already lost and how she’d never quite be over it. It was the same for him with Mason. But this was who he was. This was what he did. He couldn’t be what she needed if that meant sitting on the sidelines when there were lives at stake.

  “I love you, too,” he finally said face-to-face, like he should have all along. “And I understand that this is too much for you. But I need you to understand that it’s what I’m meant to do.”

  He kissed her, tasting the salt of her tears on her lips.

  “Maybe, after you’ve had more time, and they haven’t shipped me back to Texas…”

  She said nothing after his pause, and he wouldn’t finish the rest. Because even though he was done pretending for her, maybe he could do it for himself. Maybe he could pretend for tonight that they hadn’t said those three words and then followed it up with a kiss that meant good-bye.

  He pivoted toward the firehouse and strode up the walkway and inside to where he was met with the type of organized chaos he was meant to control. The chief saw him and nodded, so Carter started barking orders as he jogged into the engine room and suited up just in time to hop on.

  All he had to prove was that he was bringing everyone on this crew home safe tonight. Then she’d see.

  * * *

  The street was filled with people by the time Ivy woke from her daze and turned around.

  Patrons spilled out of Midtown Tavern, and she started to cross
back that way. But then the engine’s siren roared as the truck pulled out of the firehouse, around the corner, and onto First Street, causing her to jump back onto the curb. She stared at Wyatt in the driver’s seat, then past him to where a pair of bright blue eyes stared back. Carter sat in the passenger seat, his jaw set and determined.

  Her stomach roiled, and she thought she might be sick.

  When the engine passed, she saw Casey coming toward her, her face pale.

  “It’s Mrs. Davis’s house,” she said. “The whole thing is up in flames.”

  “Oh my God,” Ivy said. “Is she still inside?”

  Casey shook her head, and for a second Ivy was relieved. But then Casey said, “I don’t know. A neighbor called 911, not her.” She sniffled. “Jessie called. She’s on paramedic duty and said she’ll give us an update as soon as she can. This is really bad, Ives.”

  Ivy hugged her friend. Mrs. Davis lived up the hill from Ivy’s childhood home. She was like a second mother to her and Casey. As far as they knew, the woman had never married. At least she never said she had. But she was always adopting rescues from Dr. Murphy, the vet just outside of town, which meant she was never really alone. Today that would mean three cats, two dogs, and a cockatoo.

  “I told him not to go,” Ivy said, squeezing her friend tighter. “I told him I loved him and that he didn’t have to go.”

  Casey stepped back, her hands still on Ivy’s shoulders. “Charlie was in an office building whose roof collapsed. This isn’t the same thing. It’s Meadow Valley. Tragedies don’t happen in Meadow Valley.”

  “It’s a fire, Case. A fire brought that roof down and trapped my brother. Houses have roofs, too.” She was arguing like a petulant child. She knew she was. But Casey didn’t get it. No one seemed to get it. “He was my best friend, and he left us. Me, my parents, Allison, and the baby. He left us, and for what?”

  Casey swiped her thumbs under Ivy’s eyes, then crossed her arms. “My sister’s on the scene of that very same fire. Am I scared? Hell yes, I’m scared. But there’s a reason Jessie’s there instead of me. She’s trained for this, and because of her training and Carter’s and the whole company’s, Mrs. Davis and her home have their best chance.”

  Ivy swallowed. “I’m sorry. I’m the worst. I know you’re worried about Jessie, and—”

  “How many people lived that day because Charlie did his job?” Casey interrupted.

  Ivy shook her head.

  “How many, Ives?”

  Ivy squeezed her eyes shut. She’d thought leaving Boston and coming home to start fresh would mean that her grief stayed out east. But it followed her back to Meadow Valley and reared its ugly head without so much as a warning. And it made her forget how good Charlie was at his job—how safe his company was under Charlie’s leadership. How even when he lost his own life, he saved so many others.

  “Seven,” Ivy finally said. “Seven civilians lived because Charlie was an expert firefighter.” But even experts can’t plan for every contingency. Charlie’s company got him out in time so that he didn’t have to die alone. His closest buddies rode with him in the ambulance and stayed with him at the hospital until the end. It was the one piece of the story she and her family held on to like a life raft. Charlie wasn’t alone.

  The sound of sirens clamored in the air once more. This time it was the ambulance coming back from the opposite direction. It whizzed by them at a speed not normally seen on their quiet little street; then it rounded the corner in the direction of the highway and likely the hospital.

  Ivy’s stomach sank.

  “It’s probably Mrs. Davis in there with my sister, but Jessie hasn’t sent any updates,” Casey said, and for the first time Ivy detected a note of panic in her friend’s voice. “There’s no way to really get any answers unless…”

  “Unless we get as close as we can to Mrs. Davis’s house.”

  Ivy didn’t think she had it in her to see the danger into which Carter had walked. But the not knowing felt even worse.

  “Let’s go,” Ivy said.

  They headed down the street, following the throng of curious folks who were likely trying to get close enough to marvel at the spectacle. One person who wasn’t following the herd, though, was the older woman standing on the front porch of the inn.

  Pearl.

  She locked eyes with Ivy and gave her a reassuring nod. “I wouldn’t have brought my nephew here if I didn’t know he was damned good at his job.” She stared wistfully down the street, and Ivy suddenly remembered about Pearl and the chief. Pearl had already lost one great love of her life. There was no way the universe would let that happen again or be so cruel as to take her nephew, too. That’s what Ivy hoped and what she guessed gave Pearl her stoic strength.

  “I’ll text you when we get word about any of them,” Ivy said.

  Pearl nodded again, and Ivy and Casey kept on.

  Ivy’s heart thudded in time with the rhythm of her feet pounding the concrete. But all she could think about was what Carter had said about life-and-death situations and needing the trust of your team.

  Maybe he was good at his job, but who had his back when there was a list of signatures who wanted to send him packing? And how could she let him go, thinking that he couldn’t rely on her?

  She started walking faster until she was in a slow jog and then close to a sprint.

  She had Carter Bowen’s back. If no one else did, it had to be her. Because though she was terrified for him, she also loved him. He needed to know he wasn’t alone in this. She would be there. No matter what.

  It was only minutes before she reached the blockade in front of Mrs. Davis’s house, but it felt like hours.

  “Hey!” Casey called. And Ivy turned around to see her friend halfway up the hill, her hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath. “What the hell was that, Flo Jo?” She lumbered the rest of the way until she made it to Ivy’s side. Casey slung her hand over Ivy’s shoulders and held up a finger while she tried to get her breathing in check. “Seriously,” she finally said. “We run bases, not long-distance uphill.”

  An earsplitting crack followed by a crash cut their conversation short. Both startled and pivoted toward the sound. Half the town stood in front of them, so they could barely see over everyone’s head. But they could feel the heat, the evidence that not too far away, Mrs. Davis’s house burned.

  “Screw it,” Ivy said and grabbed Casey’s hand, tugging her forward. “Excuse us!” she said as she pushed through the crowd. “Coming through! Sorry!” she cried as she stepped on someone’s toes. But she wasn’t stopping. Not until she made it to the barricade and got some answers. All the while, she held tight to Casey’s hand, and Casey did the same with hers.

  “Oh my God,” Casey said when they got to the front.

  Ivy couldn’t speak. Her hand flew over her mouth, but no sound escaped.

  Mrs. Davis’s bright blue bungalow stood there at the top of her driveway like it always had. The front porch—decorated with potted plants and flowers, looked exactly the same. If you only stared at the porch and didn’t look up, it was the same house Ivy had known for almost thirty years.

  But they did look up, and out of the white-trimmed attic window poured livid orange flames. The place was burning from the top down.

  Two firefighters controlled the front of the hose. Actually, one manned the hose while the other held him or her steady by the shoulders. She realized that she’d never seen her father or brother in action, had never truly understood what it meant to work as a team the way they did.

  The chief rounded the back of the engine and spoke into his radio. When he finished his conversation, Ivy waved wildly, hoping to get his attention.

  “Chief Burnett! Over here!” she cried. She’d known the chief most of her life. He and her father were rookies together. If anyone could ease her mind about what was going on inside Mrs. Davis’s house, it was him.

  Casey grabbed her arm and yanked it down. “I know how badly
you want some information, but I think he’s a little busy, Ives.”

  The chief looked up, though, and strode toward the barricade.

  “Who was in the ambulance?” Ivy blurted. “Is Mrs. Davis okay? Is—are all your firefighters safe?”

  He scratched the back of his neck.

  “Mrs. Davis is being treated for smoke inhalation and some minor burns. Looks like she was going through some old boxes in her attic and dozed off while a scented candle was lit. We’re guessing one of the animals knocked it over, and once the drapes caught—”

  “The animals!” Ivy said. “Are they out?”

  The chief blew out a breath. “It may not look like it, but we have the blaze contained. It’s gonna be a while before it’s out, though. Lieutenant Bowen and a small team are inside, trying to round up the animals.”

  Ivy had joked about Carter having to rescue one of Mrs. Davis’s cats from a tree. The irony of this situation, though, was far from amusing. It was as dangerous as anything Meadow Valley had ever been.

  She nodded and tried to swallow the knot in her throat. “What—what was that sound? Is the structure stable enough for them to be inside?”

  “One of the ceiling beams in the attic was torn free.” He glanced back toward the house. “We’ve got every available man and woman on the job. Got another engine from Quincy running a hose with some of our crew from the back and a second and third ambulance at the ready in front of our truck. We assess the situation as best we can, making predictions on what we know about the fire and how we believe it will behave. But there’s always risk.”

  Casey squeezed Ivy’s hand and pointed toward the house. “Look!”