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

Next she hit speed dial for Cindi Lou, who quickly picked up.

“Tell me you’ve got him tied to his bedposts and you’re just taking a break to spill all,” Cindi Lou said in a sultry voice.

Despite the situation, Misty couldn’t help but chuckle. “I wish.”

“Shoot. What gives?”

“We’ve got a fire on the Texas Timber Christmas tree farm across from Wildcat Ranch.”

“How bad?”

“There’ll be loss but not total. Fire trucks are on their way.”

“The hunk?”

“He’s there now with a couple of fire extinguishers.” Misty felt renewed urgency to return to the fires.

“That’s like whistling in the wind.”

“I’ve got to get back to him.”

“Misty, you two take care. Hear now?”

“I hear you. Later.” She broke the connection.

Misty had done her civic duty. Help was on its way. She could go back to Twin Oaks and nobody would blame her. But Wildcat Bluff was personal now, as well as professional. And now Trey was her trusted friend, as well as so much more. She wouldn’t rest easy till he was safe.

She turned the truck around and headed back to the fire. She gunned the engine and heard the pickup respond with a deep growl. Reminded her of Trey. If he thought she’d run to safety and leave him to face danger alone, he didn’t know her very well.

In the distance, smoke billowed up into the sky over the Christmas tree farm. It looked much worse than when she’d left a short time ago. Drought, heat, and a slight breeze were fanning the flames. She could smell burning cedar. Panic started to well up, but she batted it down. She wouldn’t allow old feelings to overwhelm her. Not when Trey needed her.

As she turned off Wildcat Road, she slowed and reached behind the seat to grab Trey’s firefighter parka. Between the parka and her boots, she’d have some protection when she helped him.

In her mind’s eye, she saw a lone man in a firefighter jacket, desperately fighting to save lives and land. He was a larger-than-life hero.

Her hero.





Chapter 25


Trey’s temper was hotter than a Fourth of July firecracker. He was sweating under the sun—part heat, part fury—as he sprayed pressurized water from the extinguisher along the far edge of the blaze. He had to get out ahead of the flames before they leaped the fence and raced toward a herd of Angus in the bone-dry pasture of Wildcat Ranch.

If he could get his hands on the culprits who were trying to burn down his family’s ranch, there’d be hell to pay. Bad enough they’d tried to torch the ranch again, but they’d targeted virgin acres of the nearby Texas Timber Christmas tree farm, too. Made him mad as a Comanche who’d had a string of horses stolen in the dark of night. There was no going back. Just like the warrior who’d hunt down those thieves to the ends of the Earth to get back his prize herd, Trey would stalk these arsonists till he made sure they were brought to justice.

After the side-by-side fires and the heart-to-heart with Misty, he had to wonder if he’d been wearing his thinking cap backward. What if Misty was here to help, not hurt? What if Texas Timber wasn’t trying to burn him out so he’d sell to them? What if some folks—or a single person—he’d never considered before were the culprits?

Trust was a fragile thing, but once it took hold, trust was strong and tenacious as barbwire. Misty was earning his trust in a big way. He might be a tad slow, but once he got the bit between his teeth he was hot on the trail. Now he was looking at the arsonists and their motives in a whole new way.

He could hear the crack and pop of cedar oil as fire spread through the trees behind him. A breeze caught the smoke from burning trees and blew it over him in a gray fog. He coughed to clear his lungs. If that wind got any stronger, his ranch would be vulnerable to fire jumping the road. But he didn’t have the time or means to deal with both blazes, not with only two fire extinguishers. The tree farm had to wait for the rigs while he did what he could to control the flames licking toward his ranch’s fence line on this side of the road.

As luck would have it, the culprits had been too lazy, or too stupid, to cross the barbwire fence and start the fire where it could do real damage fast. They’d focused on the shoulder of the road where the grass was short, sparse, and filled with gravel. Trey could smell gasoline and see an oily residue where liquid had been dumped on the ground. If he hadn’t been here, the blaze would’ve taken hold and spread fast with the added accelerant and drought conditions. He hated to think about the destruction that would have happened on Wildcat Ranch.

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