A Cowboy Firefighter for Christmas (Smokin’ Hot Cowboys #1)

“Yeah right.”

“We saved a kitten.” Misty decided to change the direction of the conversation that appeared headed downhill, even though she could’ve listened to their good-natured bickering all day. Trey had talked the same easy way with Kent. Even Ruby. What she wouldn’t give to have that type of big, close-knit family and friends. An unshakable love had to be at the base of all their interactions. Of course, she had love and friendship, but not in so much abundance. She still missed Aunt Camilla every day, but now she enjoyed other friends and her BFF Cindi Lou, too.

“You saved a kitten?” Slade nodded at Misty before he gave Trey a questioning look.

“One of Slim’s barn cat litters. We left the little tyke at the clinic.”

Slade cocked his head at Misty. “Oh, now I get it. You’re our Christmas angel.”

“Trey’s idea, not mine.”

“In that case, bet the kitten makes it.”

“I hope so.”

“Now, darlin’, if this cowboy gives you any trouble, feel free to call me. I may have a hitch in my get-a-long, but most bull riders do. We’ve never let it stop us—not for long anyway.”

“There’s always a first time.” Trey gave Slade a warning stare.

“I’d better get you two some food before Trey gets the grouchies.”

Misty watched as Slade limped away, feeling sympathy for the cowboy. “He’s hurting, isn’t he?”

“Took a big dive off a bad bull.”

“And he cooks?”

“We all cook. We grew up helping out here.” Trey chuckled. “Granny believes a man in the kitchen is worth two in the bedroom.”

“And that means?”

“Guess they wanted us to have something to fall back on after rodeo and well—whatever.” Trey cocked his head to one side, appearing thoughtful. “Nothing lasts forever.”

She sighed, knowing too well what he meant. “But you’ve got a ranch, don’t you?”

“Family ranch. And I rodeo.”

“Bulls?”

“I’m not a glutton for that kind of punishment. I’ve been known to throw a leg over a horse or two. Rope steers, too.” He slowly licked his lower lip as he looked at her. “I’ve got a special touch with leather lassos.”

She caught her breath, unable to say a word. He looked very much as if he’d like to rope her, tie her up, and have his way with her. She felt liquid fire run through her body.

He cleared his throat. “Christmas in the Country is this Saturday. I wonder if—”

“Here you go.” Slade plopped down two iced teas and silverware wrapped in napkins. “Food’ll be right out.”

“Thanks,” Misty said, picking up her cold glass of tea.

“Trey, you hear any more from Texas Timber?” Slade took a wide-legged, defensive stance, and put his hands on his hips.

Misty almost dropped her glass. She turned a sharp look on Trey, hoping against hope he didn’t turn out to be on the wrong end of her investigation.





Chapter 16


“Texas Timber.” Trey groaned as he clenched his jaws so as not to say something he’d regret later, but just hearing the name made his gut burn with frustration and irritation.

“I just wondered if they were still pestering you,” Slade said.

“When don’t I hear from that company?”

“Aren’t they the Christmas tree folks?” Misty leaned forward with an interested look on her face.

Trey stopped his thoughts and gazed at her. He’d fast come to expect to see her blond hair, green eyes, and pink lips. Felt right, too. When push came to shove, she wasn’t part of the community, much less his own family. Not to mention, there was still the matter of what she was holding back. He hadn’t forgotten it, even if he’d been trying hard at every turn to reason it away. Not that his body gave a hoot about anything except getting close to her.

“Yes, they are.” Slade nodded at Misty in agreement. “Texas Timber wants to buy Wildcat Ranch’s old-growth section of the Cross Timbers. But Trey and his folks put paid to that idea.”

“We’re trying to,” Trey added. “Just wish we could get them to listen to reason.”

“I can’t imagine that tangled mess would make good Christmas trees.” Misty quirked her eyebrows in confusion.

“Native exotic wood.” Trey didn’t want to get into it, but there was no stopping Slade once he’d set off down a trail like a bloodhound.

“Worth its weight in gold, I guess,” Slade said. “It’s supposed to be used for all sorts of inlay on furniture and the like.”

“Trey, you don’t want to sell?” Misty asked. “Couldn’t you use the extra funds to enlarge cattle or buffalo herds? That type of thing.”

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