Wildfire (11 page)

“This drought isn't helping any,” another rancher added.
“People are selling off their livestock to keep from seeing them starve.”

The man’s wife leaned in, wide-eyed. “Then there’s the fires
burning up all of Paradise Valley.” A low murmur of agreement rounded the
table.

“The only thing holding a breath of hope now are those city
developers interested in the land around here,” Kate said. “Some of their offers
are mighty tempting.”

“It's a laugh.” Tavistock waved a hand as if shooing a fly.
“They aim to section off the land into little ranchettes and sell them to city
folk, who want to play cowboys.” Nervous glances flickered left and right.

Kate sipped her wine and shrugged. “Times are changing and
we have to change with them or be wiped out.” People shifted uneasily in their
seats, some nodded.

Jack couldn't stay quiet any longer. “Just to be a devil’s
advocate. What about water? We already have a water shortage here. The
ranchettes will bring more people in, which will further strain the water
supply.”

Elsie beamed and Tavistock clapped. “Good point, Callaghan.”

“But,” Karl Humberg, a local attorney, cut in. “I think Kate
may be right. I've heard these ranchettes are high-end development. So it's
people with money who'll be buying them, people who will add to the tax base.”

Mrs. Humberg nodded at her husband. “As for water, Abilene's
developing a pipeline, and there's T. Boone Pickens ready to sell his water to
whoever wants it. If we have the money here, the water will come.”

Jack almost gaped. What faith in the mighty dollar. “It's
not just about money,” he said. “It's also about management of our resources.”

The faces around the table stared at him. Aged, grim faces.
“A time may come when it won't matter how large our tax base is, if we don't
have any water to meet essential needs,” Jack said.

Elsie’s reedy voice followed his, “When water is as rare as
the blooms of a Century Plant, the resources will go to the highest bidder and
it may not be us.”

Tavistock shook his head, playing with his gold wedding
band. “We're losing a way of life.”

A twinge of jealousy passed through Jack. While everything
else might be lost, Tavistock would always have Elsie.

“Maybe I am being simplistic, but I don't think progress is
a dirty word,” Kate said, her voice a calming purr. “I think if we work with
the developers, we can make it work for us. The key is management, don't you
agree, Jack?”

He sat up straighter and met Kate's steady gaze. “Depends on
who’s running the show.”

His cell phone vibrated. Excusing himself, Jack found a
quiet corner and answered it. Jen’s voice —rough and panicky— came across the
line. “Jack, we have an emergency.”

Jack stiffened. “What’s up?”

“Um, there’s a broken water pipe and we don’t know what to
do,” she replied. “Can you please come? We’re drowning here.”

“I'm on my way.” He snapped the phone shut and glanced at
his watch. Nine thirty. Not too bad. He’d spent a decent amount of time at the
event. Jack strode back to the table in a lighter mood. He whispered to Kate
that an emergency had come up and they had to leave. She stood and started
saying her goodbyes. Couldn’t she hurry it up? Jack shook hands and nodded at
everyone, feeling like a bobble-headed doll. He relaxed once he breathed the
night air.

In the car, Jack filled Kate in on Jen's situation. She
nodded sympathetically. “It's hard to be a single woman at times. Jen's lucky
to have such a helpful landlord.”

Who did Kate call for her plumbing problems? Actually, that
was none of his business. Jack drummed his fingers on the center console during
most of the drive, wanting to be at Jen’s and fixing things. When they arrived
at Kate's house, Jack jumped out. He apologized again for cutting her evening
short.

“Tell you what, I'll let you take me out some other evening
to make up for this.” Kate leaned forward. Her sweet, flowery perfume tickled
his nose, making him dizzy and nauseous. Too close for comfort.

“Ah, sure,” Jack said, taking a step back. “I better go
before my rent house goes underwater.”

“Good luck,” she called to his retreating back.

“Good night,” Jack answered, without turning around. He
didn't slow down until he reached the pickup and climbed into the driver's
seat. What just happened? Had Kate wanted him to kiss her? Talk about
surprises.

He started the pickup and got the hell out of Dodge.

Chapter
10

What a disaster. Lynn kneeled in cold
ankle deep water and peered at the pipes under Jen's kitchen sink. She could do
this
.
Just stay calm
.

A spray of water from the broken pipe splattered her face.
She turned away, coughing, and blindly grasped the pipe until her hands covered
most of the hole. The water pulsed and fizzed against her skin, sneaking out
wherever it could. Nope, this wouldn't work. Taking a deep breath, she let go.
Water sprayed everywhere. She grimaced and swallowed the curses dancing on the
tip of her tongue. What the hell had made her think she could do this?

In the beginning, it seemed so manageable. She'd volunteered
to do the dishes and left Jen, who had a cold, tucked on the couch. Soon
afterwards, cold water licked her toes. Even with the faucet turned off, water
still streamed out.

Jen had hovered in the doorway. “Anything I can do to help?”

"You want to get pneumonia? I’ve got this
covered." Lynn wished she felt half as confident as she’d sounded. “Go back
to your couch.”

"I think I should call Jack."

“No!” Lynn had rolled her eyes. Jack to the rescue yet again?
No way. "I can handle this."

Yeah, right. She had handled it all right. Handled it with
as much finesse as only a clumsy dragon could. Lynn had tried unsuccessfully to
find the water meter and the turn-off valve. Next, assuming that the pipe was
leaking from a loose joint, she tackled it with a pair of pliers.

A stomach-wrenching noise later, the rusty pipe had
developed a jagged, yawning hole. Water sprayed her. Lynn shot away from the
pipe, slid and landed with a significant splash on her bottom.

Jen dialed Jack.

"Traitor," Lynn grumbled, half-listening to the
one-sided conversation as she came up with her next strategy— duct tape. Her
butt hurt and her pride hurt even worse. Jack must think she was a chronic
damsel-in-distress. So much for great impressions.

An image of him taking off his fire helmet and smiling at
her came to mind. What a smile. The memory of their tangled gazes steamed
through her. Lynn started at the feather-soft melting inside her. Guilt tapped
at her conscience. Here to hunt for duct tape, remember? Focus on the problem.
She found the duct tape in the same drawer as Jen’s gift wrapping paper and
scissors. The girl needed serious help.

Grabbing the purple tape, Lynn ran back to the sink. She
needed to get the problem fixed before Jack showed up. Water pelted her as she
struggled to wrap duct tape around the offending crack. She worked quickly and
wove lengths and lengths of tape about the pipe, her arms moving up, down, and
sideways. Finally, out of tape, she sat back on her haunches and grinned. She’d
tamed the beast! The water was down to a trickle and a few half-hearted spits.
Temporary fix, but not bad.

She grabbed a mop and shoved it back and forth across the
wet floor.
On a roll now
. The water would be gone before Mr. Callaghan
showed. After a few minutes, Lynn stopped and leaned against the handle. Oh,
her muscles ached. A massage would be heaven. Of course, she instantly recalled
his fingers work their magic on her foot. She closed her eyes. In her mind,
Jack smiled and placed his big hands on her back. His hands moved, spread
warmth and tingles. They inched up and under her shirt, to the front and up, up
until they reached and cupped her breasts—

He’s a suspect
. Her eyes flew open and she vigorously
mopped a patch of floor until it winked back squeaky clean and shiny.

A loud
knock, followed by
the hum of conversation. Jack. She headed for the door, before coming to a
standstill. What was she, a teenager? No, that was the dragon in her. Lynn blew
out a breath and grasped the mop for support. Remember the difference. She
counted backwards to slow down her heart to regular speed.

Jack appeared in the doorway, dressed in some sort of formal
wear. Every muscle in her body quivered. She almost expected him to say “Bond.
James Bond”. Lynn licked her lips and stared at him. Okay, roll tongue back up
and close mouth. She took a deep breath. “Wow, you, um…You really cleaned up.”

Jack leaned against the doorframe and grinned as Lynn gaped
at him and nervously licked her lips. Oh yeah. For once he wasn't the mess. “I
put this on just for you.”

Her answering grin sparked a fierce desire to kiss her. He
shifted to shove his hands in his pockets and hide the sudden bulge in his
pants. His eyebrows inched up as he whistled. “Your new look suits you.”

Maybe he should have his head examined because he actually
meant the compliment. She did look cute and sexy.

A barefoot Lynn, wearing cut off jeans and a faded gray
t-shirt, glared at him while clutching a mop. Her hair, twisted and held up by
a clip, ended in a fountain of spikes. She scowled. “You like the water-logged
monster look?”

He grinned. Lynn, the wet and wild punk-rocker maid. His
eyes drifted back to the dripping wet t-shirt. Hmm, maybe he wasn’t so crazy
after all. Nothing cute and harmless about her curves. With an effort of will
he turned toward the problem he’d come to fix.

A massive ball of duct tape hung from the pipe under the
sink, looking like a very weird, very malignant growth. What on earth? He
squatted and peered at the purple mass.

"What
are
you wearing?"

"It's a tux," Jack said, standing. "Haven't
you ever seen one before?"

"Not like this one," Lynn replied, taking a few
steps toward him. "You're wearing jeans, for Pete's sake."

Jack stood and did a turn, the way he imagined a model
would. "You are looking at a Western tux. Note the long coat with tails, a
string bolo tie instead of a stupid bow tie, the jeans and boots. I’m all
decked out."

Another step closer. She reached out and touched the brim of
his hat. “And yes, a black cowboy hat.” Lynn’s dark eyes glittered. “It should
be white, you know? Heroes always wear the white hat.”

She didn’t know the Callaghans. A bitter taste filled his
mouth. Jack looked away from her, at the hissing pipe. Heard her stumble, felt
cool air between them.

“So what are you going to do about this?”

Jack couldn’t resist. He looked down at his clothes, then
her. “Nothing. I think you have it under control.”

Her beautiful eyes widened. “What?”

“Just joking,” Jack chuckled. “So why didn't you turn off
the water to the house?”

Lynn mumbled something.

“Didn't catch that.”

“I couldn't find the meter,” she said, biting out each word.
Her lips pushed out in a sexy pout.

Something growled within him. A wild urge to grab her, nip
those pink lips, and taste her gripped him. Jack took a deep breath as he
rocked on the edge of control.
Down boy, down.
“You’re such a city
girl.” He grinned to hide the turmoil inside him. “There's no meter because we
use well water out here. There's a valve by the well.”

Jack hurried out the door. He liked having fun, but these
emotions were new, different.

After about half an hour, and after getting completely
drenched, he’d fixed the leak and helped clean up the kitchen. By the end of
all that, when Lynn offered him a dry towel and a cold beer, Jack figured he'd
definitely earned the reward.

Jack threw the towel onto the seat and sank into the
recliner. He took a drink, and let out a deep sigh. "It's been a long
day."

"Sorry about spoiling a nice evening for you," Jen
said.

"Thanks for the rescue," Lynn said in a tiny
voice.

Jack grimaced and shrugged. He filled them in on the
shindig, minus Kate and her surprises.
"The
fundraiser’s for a good cause, but it was kind of stiff and I was ready to get
out," he said. "So in a way, you rescued me too."

Jen sneezed and Lynn jumped to get her more ginger-infused
tea.

"Talking of rescue," Jen croaked. "Rescue me
from this over-zealous nurse, will you?"

"Stop complaining," Lynn said, going into the
kitchen. "I'm just doing what needs to be done."

Jen shook her head. "This is your vacation, I can't let
you spend it playing nurse." She leaned towards Jack and whispered,
"She's driving me nuts. Do something."

"Why should I? You ragged me about my tux."

"I'll buy you a case of beer. Shiner Bock, your
favorite." She cast a desperate look towards the kitchen. "That
ginger tea is vile."

"I'll see what I can do," he replied. When Lynn
returned with the tea, Jack offered to take her sightseeing the next day.

"Oh, I can't leave Jen, as sick as she is." Lynn
shook her head at both of them.

"Yes, you can," Jen said. "It's settled. Pick
her up at nine!"

Lynn blushed again. "Jen, behave," she said.
"I can't impose on Jack."

This time Jack shook his head. "I really don't have
much going on tomorrow. The machine parts still haven't come in," he said.
"Besides, it'll be my pleasure." He’d enjoy showing her around,
getting to know her, exploring all possibilities. He pushed to the edge of the
recliner hoping she’d agree.

Jen added further endorsements. "He grew up here, so
you'll have an authentic, native tour guide. He'll take you off the beaten
path."

Jack grinned wickedly. "Wear comfortable shoes, darlin’."