Page 8 of Smokin’ Situation (Masked Men of Sage Springs #3)
Tristan
While she still looked exhausted, the color had returned to Rhey’s cheeks, and she seemed in better spirits than before the medic had given her the IV.
Baker had wanted to call her sister, who was apparently an ER nurse at the hospital, but I had a feeling the independent woman currently fidgeting with the hem of her shorts in the passenger seat of her truck would not have been on board with that.
She didn’t seem like the type who wanted to draw a lot of attention to herself.
And I could relate to not wanting to have younger siblings in your business.
Jayden had graciously let me stay in his guest room instead of being stuck in the purgatory that would have been living in my childhood bedroom under my mother’s care for months on end.
He’d mostly just checked in on me to see if I needed anything, but I’d hated that feeling of being under a microscope.
As soon as I’d found out from Marty West, the owner of the ranch I now helped manage, that a small, dated cabin came with the position, I’d been ready to check it out the next day.
It’d been a few weeks since I took possession, but now that the cobwebs were cleared out—and hopefully most of my arachnid friends—it was feeling like home.
And I didn’t have to worry about cramping my brother’s style anymore.
He hadn’t brought a single woman back to his place in the four months I’d lived there, and I had a hard time believing he went that long between partners.
My baby brother had been a total slut in high school even as a freshman while I was a senior, so I doubted that’d changed much in the last twenty years.
“Do you need me to tell you where to go?” Rhey’s quiet voice cut through the silence in the truck cab, and I glanced at her briefly as I took the turn that’d take me up the mountain pass that separated Butterfly Ridge from Sage Springs.
“While you’re welcome to boss me around,” I teased, returning my eyes to the road and pressing the gas, the engine of the oversized Ram purring. “I know where I’m going.”
“Just wanted to make sure since you said it’d been a long time since you lived here.”
“I could come back in another twenty years, and it’d probably still be mostly the same,” I commented, resisting the urge to watch her because I needed to focus on the road.
“Isn’t that the beauty of small towns?” she asked, but her tone was melancholy. Almost like she didn’t exactly feel like she was a part of things, just an outside observer.
“Or the curse. Didn’t you notice all the people watching us when I came to help earlier?”
“Um, I was kinda passed out when you took me to the med tent, so no, wasn’t exactly aware of people watching that. Although it’d be normal anywhere to be a little curious when a big strapping firefighter is carrying an unconscious woman through a crowd.”
“I meant before you passed out while I was just helping you get the line down,” I chuckled, although carrying her through the crowd had been a memorable moment.
But I’d been more focused on her than the crowd parting to let us through.
“It was the same when I was in high school, everybody in everybody else’s business.
I’m sure there will be some rumors circulating tomorrow. ”
“Well, coming inside for your gourmet meal of fried bar food will surely get the tongues wagging.”
Instead of the panic I thought I’d feel at being the subject of additional scrutiny from the members of the small community we lived in, I kind of wanted to double down and give them something to really talk about.
It wouldn’t have been the first time considering how I had returned to town after over a decade of being on my own.
When I woke up this morning, trying to quell the panic that usually came after the nightmares that had plagued me for months—breathing through the chaos—I hadn’t expected my day to end on a vaguely enjoyable note.
Was I happy that my passenger had passed out from heat exhaustion?
Hell no, but I wasn’t sad about the fact that I got to be the one to feel useful for the first time in months and come to her rescue.
And making sure she got back to the bar safely where she’d invited me to eat with her was better than the alternative of heating a can of soup on the outdated appliances I needed to update in my new home.
“Let them talk. I have nothing to hide.”
She let out a labored breath in response, leaning her head against the window in the passenger side door. I suddenly wondered if maybe she had something to hide. But I left her secrets alone, carefully navigating the dark roads while she drifted off in the passenger seat.
Hudson, the owner of the bar, was waiting at the back door, leaning against the brick wall with his arms crossed, as I pulled Rhey’s truck into the alley behind the building.
I could see my boss’ daughter—not so little anymore—Charley West, standing beside him inside the doorway, bouncing on her toes as I downshifted and engaged the parking brake.
Rhey didn’t budge as I pulled the keys out of the ignition on the late model Ram, reaching over to drop them inside her open purse on the seat between us .
“Wake up, pretty girl,” I whispered, squeezing her kneecap lightly.
When she didn’t budge, I figured our plans for the evening were going to have to be put on hold.
I’d never been so disappointed to miss out on tater tots before.
But hopefully since we lived in the same small town, and I knew where she worked, we’d see each other again.
Sighing, I unbuckled my seatbelt, slipping out of the driver’s seat and locking the manual lock on my side before I walked around the front of the behemoth and carefully opened the passenger side door.
“You want me to take her?” Hudson offered as he stepped forward, holding his hand out to take her purse from me.
“Nah, I got her.” Stepping onto the running board and leaning across her sleeping form, I unbuckled the seatbelt, her soft breaths tickling my neck as I pulled back.
She was completely asleep as I lifted her out of the truck.
Instead of hanging limply in my arms like she had before, she tucked her face into my neck and grabbed a fistful of my shirt.
“I’ll show you where you can lay her down,” Charley whispered before she led the way up a back staircase to a modest apartment above the bar, holding the door open for me before she flicked on the living room light.
I followed her down a small hallway and into a sparsely decorated room, laying Rhey down after she pulled the covers out of the way.
Charley and I worked to remove her boots and get her tucked in. She only stirred briefly as I tugged off her hat. I had to fight off the sudden urge to kiss her on the forehead before I pulled the covers up to her shoulders.
Watching how exhausted she was, I had a feeling it had more to do with her stubborn refusal to do everything on her own than just a simple case of heat exhaustion.
It endeared her to me even more, because until I got hurt, I’d also been a stubborn asshole who didn’t like to ask for help.
Maybe that was just another thing we had in common .
“Thank you for driving her back here, Tripp,” Charley whispered after she led me out of the apartment and down the stairs to where Hudson was waiting for us in the back hallway of the bar.
“Thanks, man,” Hudson echoed as he joined us, pulling me in for a half hug and back slap that had me fighting off a wince.
“Did Baker stop by yet?” I asked, knowing I probably needed to get back to the ranch and get some sleep before I needed to be up at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow.
Hudson dropped my keys into my hand, tilting his head toward the front of the door. “Drinks are on me if you’ve got time.”
Shaking my head, I pocketed my keys. “Maybe another time, I’ve got an early morning. But someone told me I’ll need to stop by for some tater tots sometime.”
He chuckled, thankfully letting me off the hook. “Tots on the house then next time. I’m sure my fainting bartender who works Thursdays and Saturdays would love to help you out with those.”
“Real subtle, ding dong, why don’t you close out the bar so we can get out of here,” Charley laughed, flicking his arm and shaking her head.
Hudson shrugged, nodding at me before he took off down a side hallway.
“Sorry, he’s kind of oblivious sometimes.
But for real, I’m sure Annie is thankful you were there.
Hazel told me you went all white knight and carried her halfway across the town square with everyone watching. ”
“Annie?”
“Did she not tell you her name?” she asked, looking confused.
“Her name isn’t Rhey?”
Charley shook her head. “Well, I guess it kind of is. Her name is Rheyanne, but everyone around here calls her Annie. Wonder why she told you Rhey?”
And now I was wondering the same as well.
She hadn’t corrected me when I’d called her that all day, and I kind of liked that she wanted me to call her something different from everyone else.
I hadn’t exactly been honest with her about my name, either.
I had told the guys around the fire station to call me Tripp because that was what I’d gone by for years when I wasn’t back in Colorado .
“Can I give you my number to give to her when she wakes up?”
“Gimme your phone and I can put hers in there for you.” Her smile widened, her eyebrows dancing as she held out her hand. Passing over my phone, I watched as she pulled open a new text message filled with a local number and then handed it back to me.
“Thanks, I guess I’ll see you around.”
She nodded and shot me a grin before she turned to follow Hudson to the front of the bar, leaving me to let myself out the back door. The sun had finally set, but the wind had picked up, rustling the trees in a way that almost sounded ominous.
While the winters in Wyoming could be a little more brutal, I was used to the weather changes in the mountains. But as I drove back to the ranch, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to shift.
A blaring sound from my phone at 4:30 in the morning, when my alarm was already set for 5:15, was not the ideal way to be woken up from a nightmare.
My already frazzled nerves were on edge when it went off again moments later, which sent me scrambling for it on the nightstand.
Pulling open the notification app the fire station used, my stomach dropped as I read the push alert that had been sent to my phone.
Active fire alert for Eastern Chaffee County. County roads north of US Hwy 50 east of Monarch Pass are closed to thru traffic. All on call officers need to report to checkpoint to help set up detours and alert affected residents.
Adrenaline kicked in as I threw off the covers, pulling out a clean class B uniform and getting dressed while I tried to run through the list of protocol that I’d studied last week during my onboarding with the fire department.
I needed to notify Marty I wouldn’t be around the ranch this morning, but we’d discussed the logistics around me being a volunteer firefighter before he’d hired me. He knew I might need to take off at a moment’s notice, I just hadn’t expected it to be this soon.
Tristan: Being called in, I’ll send you an update once I know more.
Marty: We have things covered here, let me know if there is anything we can do to help.
Hesitating, I pulled up Baker’s number, firing off a text before I shoved my utility knife in my pocket and clipped my gloves to my belt.
Everything else I’d need, like my turnout gear and my breathing SCBA, were locked in a chest in my truck bed.
Typically, if there was an active blaze I’d be reporting in full turnout, but since I was still a probationary officer, I knew the Chief wouldn’t let me suit up.
Tripp: You already on site?
Baker was typically assigned to search and rescue, so I knew he likely wouldn’t be a frontline report to the actual fire. Not unless they really needed him.
Baker: You on your way? Chief just told us he sent out the volunteer alert. I’ve been up on the ridge for the last two hours directing traffic like a fucking meter maid.
Tripp: Meter maids don’t direct traffic, they write tickets, dipshit. We get that much traffic through the pass in the middle of the night?
Baker: No, but I’m bored as fuck and want to feel useful. You better get your ass up here so you can direct traffic, probie.
Tripp: Fuck off. Thanks for reminding me how low I am in the ranks.
Baker: No problem. Now get your ass in gear, bitch boy.
Choosing not to react, I finished getting myself ready, hopping into my truck and pulling up the location pin that had been sent to my phone before I took the access road from the back side of the ranch to the highway.
Heading north of town, the roads were quiet; the sun hovering low behind the trees, an ominous orange haze hovering across the pavement.
The wind had picked up overnight, rustling the trees and making the windows in my truck vibrate in the frame.
While it’d helped bring down the uncharacteristic sweltering temperatures we’d had lately, it was only going to make containing this fire more difficult.
Under normal circumstances it was a bad time of year for wildfire, but with the lack of rain, higher than normal temperatures, and now the wind gusts that were strong enough to shake my truck while I was driving, I did not have a good feeling about this.
There were certain instincts you honed as a specialty firefighter, and reading the environmental conditions was something I’d learned a long time ago.
Things were about to get very real about my new assignment.