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

Between the water extinguisher and the ABC dry chemical extinguisher, he hoped he had enough power in the cans to put out the fire before it broke loose. Cattle were vulnerable, but wild animals, too. Plus all the small ground critters like toads and snakes that could easily get caught in a fast-moving fire and not be able to escape.

Still, he was lucky. He’d arrived in the nick of time and the available fuel was limited so the burn was slower. Once more, Misty had proven herself to be his Christmas angel. If she hadn’t wanted to see the ranch, they wouldn’t have been on this road at this time of day. And they wouldn’t have seen the fires.

As he sprayed with water, a flame escaped, blazed, and tried to claw its way up his leg. He stomped on the fire with his thick leather boot sole and drove the blaze into the ground. He stopped spraying while he beat back the flames near him with his tough cowboy boots.

If the fire managed to jump this fence, he had another plus in his favor. He’d baled hay last summer, although there was precious little good grass with the heat and drought this year. He’d even had to buy hay to make sure his cattle had enough food to last through the winter. Short, dry grass wouldn’t provide as much fuel, so it’d burn fast but not as hot.

He continued to spray around the edges of the fire, wetting down an outer area of containment. He let the gasoline-soaked center burn as he moved inward with a wide spray that extinguished flames. Heat buffeted him. Smoke stung his nose and burned his eyes, but he ignored the sensations as he continued to douse the fire.

He aimed at another spot, but nothing came out of the extinguisher. He tried to coax a little more from the can, but he’d emptied his first fire extinguisher. He set it down on the road and picked up the can he’d saved for the gasoline-soaked area. He only had a limited amount of chemical, so he had to be smart about its use. He sprayed fine yellow powder over the center of the containment area to put out the remaining red-orange flames now surrounded by a blackened area.

He had the fire on the run, but it kept clawing back. He hit the blazes with chemical and snuffed them out with his boots till finally the last of the fire fizzled and went out, leaving an area of blackened grass highlighted with yellow powder. He sighed in relief. He’d had just enough in the two cans to handle the blaze. For now, Wildcat Ranch was safe.

But he could feel heat from the tree fire behind him. He turned to survey the other side of the road. Not good. White smoke billowed upward from the burning saplings. Crackling and spitting sounds filled the air. If the fire hadn’t been so deadly, it’d look beautiful. The fire jumped from one cedar to another to create a patchwork quilt of blazing bonfires across the tree farm.

Trey’s jacket was made to repel heat and wick away inside moisture, but he was still sweating from the fire and exertion. He hoped the rigs got there soon. They had to stop that blaze fast before it spread out into the county or across the road to his ranch.

When he heard the deep growl of a truck, he grinned. Help had arrived just in time. He hung the fire extinguisher from a strap over one shoulder, then walked over and picked up the other empty can and slung it by the strap over his other shoulder.

He glanced down the road and felt his gut flip-flop. Misty had come back. He didn’t want her anywhere near this danger. Even worse, she’d stopped in the middle of the road. She needed to either get out or get his pickup off the lane so apparatus could move in close to the fire.

He jogged toward her, pointing toward the ditch by the side of the road. His truck had enough clearance so it’d be no problem, but did she realize that? He kept gesturing as he neared her, looking toward Wildcat Road as he ran. If the rigs came barreling down the road, Misty would be planted smack-dab in the way. Last thing they needed was a crash or an impediment to stopping the fire in its tracks.

Finally, he saw her nod in understanding. She steered off the road, bounced over the ditch, and took out a line of saplings before she came to a stop. She turned off the engine, stepped down from the truck, and ran toward him.

He stopped, transfixed by the sight. She’d pulled on his yellow and orange Hi-Vis parka. As she ran, his jacket flared out around her like the wings of an angel—his Christmas angel.

Even so, he still wished she wasn’t here. Sap in the cedars was exploding and sending out sparks as the blaze raced toward the bigger trees. Dense smoke was spiraling up and spreading out from where it covered the ground. He coughed to clear his lungs.

When she reached him, Trey wrapped an arm around her, not feeling much of her body because of their firefighter gear. Still, she was safe.

“I got hold of Hedy. Kent and Sydney are on their way.”

“Great.” He gestured toward his ranch. “Got that fire put out, but the other is—”

“Huge!” She stepped away from him, walked toward the tree farm, and then turned back, shaking her head. “That’s dangerous.”

“With the right equipment, it’s containable.”

“Good. How can I help?”

“Volunteers will be here soon. We’ll get it under control. You can go on back to Twin Oaks.”

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