Page 5 of Flare (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters #17)
A Trip Down Memory Lane
Edward “ Ward” Swanson stepped back and admired the gleam of the newly refinished oak staircase in the old Victorian house.
The warm chestnut stain he ’ d chosen matched the house ’ s original wainscoting and doorframes perfectly, and the satin polyurethane topcoat had brought out the wood ’ s character without making it look too shiny or new.
Six months ago, he ’ d answered an alert on his first responder app to find smoke pouring from the windows, choking the winter air with the stench of smoke.
Old knob-and-tube wiring had sparked in the attic, setting fire to one of Bearpaw Ridge ’ s oldest houses. It had taken him and the other Bearpaw Ridge volunteer firefighters nearly an hour to knock down the flames engulfing the attic.
Luckily, no one had been hurt or killed in the fire. The Petersons had moved out a couple of weeks earlier and put their house up for sale.
Once the fire marshal ’ s investigation was complete, and the insurance claims settled, Swanson Construction, owned by Dad ’ s cousin Tyler, had won a contract for repairs and restoration.
Though the fire hadn ’ t reached the first floor, smoke and soot had infiltrated the rest of the house through every crack. And the fire hoses used to save the house had flooded and damaged the unburned rooms.
Ward had been the first firefighter on the scene that night. Now, he was the last worker out of the newly restored home. It felt good. Like he ’ d come full circle.
He pulled a soft rag from his back pocket and ran it over the gleaming handrail and carved newel post one last time.
Then, Ward texted a photo of the completed staircase to Tyler before he closed the front door behind him.
It was a beautiful spring afternoon, the air mild and scented with smoking meat from the Wildcat Springs Texas BBQ restaurant just a couple of blocks away.
Tossing his tool belt onto the passenger seat of his pickup, Ward looked back at the house with satisfaction curling in his chest.
Time to celebrate with a pastry and one of those fancy coffee drinks at Cinnamon + Sugar.
Ward had grown up eating treats from Annabeth Swanson ’ s bakery-café on Main Street. Now that Uncle Dane and Aunt Annabeth were mostly retired, his favorite cousin Maggie was running the place.
Sure enough, she was behind the counter when he walked in.
The interior of Cinnamon + Sugar was decorated in a retro style, with black-and-white floor tiles, marble-topped tables, and framed posters of vintage advertisements for chocolate, baking powder, and other baking-related items. A long row of glass bakery cases, usually filled with all kinds of cookies, pastries, and fancy sandwiches, stretched on either side of a marble counter that held the cash register and a coffee station.
Alerted by the tinkling bell fixed over the door, Maggie looked up from fiddling with the large, chrome-plated Italian espresso machine.
“ Hey, Eddie! You ’ re off work early today,” she greeted him with a wide grin.
His family members were the only ones who still called him “ Eddie.”
Everyone else had switched to calling him Ward after he joined the BPRFD, to avoid confusion with the two other Eddies already in the department. “ I finished up at the Peterson house, Mags. Do you have any of those almond croissants left?”
She pointed theatrically at the mostly empty display case. “ You ’ re in luck, cuz. You get the last one.”
“ Great,” Ward said. “ And I ’ ll take one of those chocolate-dipped coconut things, too. I earned it.”
His stomach growled.
Maggie ’ s dark brows rose, and her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. “ Someone ’ s bear sounds hungry. How about a sandwich? There ’ s one ham, Fontina, and kale pesto left.”
Kale pesto? Despite his doubts, Ward shrugged. “ Sure, why not?”
“ Give me a sec and I ’ ll heat it up.” Maggie scooped the sandwich out of the case and turned to the big panini press standing behind her.
Care packages from Cinnamon + Sugar had basically saved Ward ’ s life during his first semester at tech school in Boise. The dining hall had been a rude shock to someone raised on his family ’ s delicious cooking. And there was only so much fast food a guy could take.
Maggie ’ s overnighted boxes of cookies, cakes, and pastries had been the envy of Ward ’ s entire dorm.
While his sandwich heated, she propped her hip against the counter. “ So, you gonna tell me how it went?”
“ How what went?” Ward asked warily. Had “ Matchmaker Maggie” heard about his latest dating debacle yet?
She grimaced. “ Rob ’ s concert. I ’ m amazed you drove all the way to Spokane just to see his band.”
Ward shrugged, glad that Maggie hadn ’ t heard about the real reason for his trip… a ShiftMatch date that had fizzled out before they ’ d even ordered drinks. “ I was in the mood for a road trip. Figured Rob could use a familiar face in the audience.”
“ Other than his mate and all his dedicated fans?” Maggie teased. “ Heard a rumor he fell off the stage. Did he?”
“ He didn ’ t fall, but it was a close call,” Ward said, fighting a smile. “ He tried to crowd-surf, but tripped on his amp cord. Rob ’ s normally really light on his feet, so it was pretty funny watching him flail around for a couple of seconds before he recovered his balance.”
Maggie whooped. “ You ’ re gonna get so much mileage out of that story. You talk to him after?”
“ We grabbed burgers. He and Natalie are doing great. They ’ re thinking about coming back home for Grandma Elle ’ s big Fourth of July barbecue if the band doesn ’ t score that gig at the Cascade Jam Summer Music Festival.”
“ It ’ s so great he finally found the right person. But what about you, Eddie?” she said, switching to her matchmaker voice. “ You ever gonna bring a girl home, or do I have to set you up myself?”
He rolled his eyes, but it was mostly an act. “ Like there ’ s any single girl around here that I haven ’ t already dated. Besides, I signed up on ShiftMatch.”
“ And you ’ ve been on how many dates now?” She shook her head. “ Your bear is picky.”
“ Don ’ t I know it.” Ward rolled his eyes. “ At least I ’ m trying. Maybe you should worry about Ellie. All she does is work at Dad ’ s law office.”
His older sister had always been shy and a little socially awkward, but Ward knew she had a good heart and a wicked sense of humor once she warmed up around new people.
Maggie grinned. “ I ’ m working on it.” Then her expression sobered. She dropped her voice, even though they were the only ones in the cafe. “ Hey, do you remember Emily Clarke?”
Ward ’ s chest gave a little squeeze at the mention of her name.
He ’ d deny it to his dying breath, but the truth was he ’ d never forgotten Emily. Not for a minute.
Back in his high school days, she ’ d been the popular senior when he was a nobody junior and so far out of his league it hadn ’ t been funny. Curly blonde hair that looked incredibly soft, lips that he ’ d dreamed about kissing, and lush curves that would ’ ve fit perfectly in his arms.
With an effort, he kept his expression bland. “ Sure. You guys were friends, right? Didn ’ t she move away after graduation?”
He ’ d been devastated when she and her mom abruptly left Bearpaw Ridge right after her high school graduation, but he ’ d never tell his cousin that.
Maggie nodded. “ Yeah. She ’ s been living in Spokane.”
He ’ d been just a few miles away from Emily and hadn ’ t known it.
The panini press beeped, and Maggie turned to retrieve his sandwich. She put it on a plate and slid it across the counter to him.
He ’ d just taken his first bite when Maggie dropped a bombshell. “ I tried connecting you guys last week, just in case you wanted to meet up before or after Rob ’ s concert.”
His chest squeezed again, but he kept chewing. “ What did she say?”
“ She blew me off,” Maggie said, to his surprise. “ Sent the coldest text I ’ ve ever gotten. I wonder what I did to piss her off.”
Ward grunted. “ Maybe she ’ s just busy.” He tore off another mouthful of the sandwich. Who knew something with an off-putting name like “ kale pesto” could be so tasty?
Maggie shot him a look. “ That ’ s what I thought until I got another text from her about an hour ago.”
Ward could sense the capital-D Drama about to emerge. “ And?” He tried not to sound too eager.
“ She said she ’ s in trouble. And she ’ s on her way back to Bearpaw Ridge right now.” Maggie shot him a significant glance.
Someone hurt Emily? Ward ’ s inner bear stirred with sudden angry protectiveness. It had always had a soft spot for her. “ What kind of trouble?”
“ She said it was a nasty breakup. And I think her ex might ’ ve been the one who answered my text last week. It didn ’ t sound like her at all.”
“ And she ’ s coming here?” And she ’ s single again? He tried to squash his sudden upwelling of hope, but it lingered stubbornly.
Maggie nodded. “ I told her she could stay at the ranch.”
“ Good. If her ex tries to come after her, he ’ ll have to deal with you.” Ward allowed himself to smile at his cousin. “ Beware of a pissed-off Swanson.”
Including us , his bear said. Ward wholeheartedly agreed.
If some jerk had hurt Emily, he ’ d do his damnedest to ensure it never happened again.
“ That was the idea,” Maggie said.
Ward finished his sandwich, started in on the pastries, and tried not to dwell on the way his heart beat faster at the idea of seeing Emily again.
Maggie returned to cleaning the caf é’ s espresso machine. The sharp scent of coffee and milk cleaner filled the air, mingling with the ever-present fragrances of vanilla, butter, cinnamon, chocolate, and yeast.
Ward watched his cousin work as he polished off the almond croissant and the macaroon.
Maggie had inherited her mom ’ s gift for making the tastiest treats, and everyone in town was happy to see the bakery ’ s famous cinnamon rolls still being baked, even after Aunt Annabeth ’ s retirement.
Like most of the Swanson kids, he ’ d spent time behind the counter at Cinnamon + Sugar during his high school years. He remembered dealing with this end-of-day cleaning task for an earlier incarnation of the espresso machine.
These days, he ran his own business as a qualified journeyman carpenter, earning a good living dividing his time between restoration projects and working as a subcontractor to Dad ’ s cousin Tyler, who owned Swanson Construction.
Ward could out-drink, outwork, and out-wrestle pretty much any guy in Lemhi County, human or shifter. But even with all that, he still hadn ’ t found a girl that made his bear sit up and take notice.
Except for Emily.
She ’ s finally coming home! He tried to tamp down his excitement, but his bear wouldn ’ t let him.