Her Firefighter Hero. Leigh Bale
needed in her life. No more excitement. No more wildfires to make her anxious at night when she should be sleeping.
Connie provided their customers with menus and two glasses of ice water. In her heart, Megan knew dating another man wouldn’t work. She didn’t want to jump into another relationship. Not as long as she had June and Caleb to think about.
Still, she did consider the possibilities. A lot, in fact. As she served food and closed up the diner later that night, her thoughts trailed back to Jared Marshall. His smile alone was enough to make her heart beat faster.
After locking the front door, Frank walked with her and the sleepy children out to the parking lot and said goodbye. Standing beneath the dim glow of a streetlight, Megan let the frigid night air cool her work-flushed face. A heavy doubt blanketed her. A constant companion she couldn’t seem to banish from her heart and mind.
As she buckled her two kids into their seats and closed the door, a chilling breeze smelling of rain swirled around her. She walked to the driver’s side, thinking that the catering job wouldn’t be too bad. It would be a lot of hard work, but that never frightened her. Loving and then losing someone to a wildfire was a different matter entirely. It absolutely terrified her. And she couldn’t go through that again. No, not ever.
* * *
The microwave buzzed, letting Jared know his dinner was ready. Having just gotten home after a long day at work, he changed into his old blue jeans and a worn T-shirt. Switching off the light in his bedroom, he padded barefoot through the dark living room to the cheery lights of the kitchen. Reaching for a hot pad, he opened the microwave and slid his dinner onto the kitchen table. A frozen spaghetti- and-meatballs concoction from a cardboard container. Nothing fancy, and nothing like the meal he’d had at Megan’s diner the day before, but it’d fill up his rumbling stomach.
The doorbell rang and he jerked his head around. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine twenty-eight. Who could be calling at this late hour?
Walking into the living room, he clicked on the porch light. Opening the door, he looked out. Megan Rocklin stood in front of him, wearing a light jacket and a worried frown.
“Mrs. Rocklin! Come in,” he said.
A whoosh of air rushed out of his lungs, and his senses kicked into overdrive. Wow! This was unexpected. Even with a mountain of work, he couldn’t stop thinking about her throughout the day. He’d planned on going back to her restaurant, to ask her about the catering job one more time, but decided to let it drop. Now he was beyond startled to find her on his doorstep. In a town this size, he wasn’t surprised that she knew where he lived, but what was she doing here?
“No, I can’t.” She tossed a desperate look toward the street, as if she wanted to escape.
Beneath the glimmer of the porch light, she fidgeted, looking anxious. He caught sight of her old pickup truck parked in front of his house. Through the windows, he could just make out the tops of her two children’s heads, snuggled together in sleep. A sweet feeling rushed over him. He liked these kids and their mother.
“Did you just get off work at the restaurant?” he asked.
“Yeah, we’re on our way home now.”
He gazed at her face, delicate and pale in the dim night air. Lines of fatigue circled her expressive brown eyes. And in that moment, he realized how difficult life must be for her, running a business and raising two young children on her own.
“What can I do for you?” he asked. If only she’d agree to cater meals to the firefighters, he could bring her some lucrative work that might allow her to hire some more help.
She looked casual in faded jeans. Her blue tennis shoes matched the neck of her soft sweater almost exactly. In the restaurant, she’d worn her reddish-blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Just now, it lay in flowing waves across her shoulders, and he thought she must have pulled it loose and brushed it out before leaving work.
“I’m sorry to bother you at home so late at night, but this is the first chance I’ve had to get away from the diner,” she said, her face flushing a delightful shade of pink.
He caught her fragrant scent and took several deep inhales. He couldn’t help contrasting her relaxed attire to the formal dress suits his ex-wife had worn all the time. After college, Sharon had wanted him to go into banking, like her father. Jared had almost done it, too. After all, his parents had died and he’d wanted to please his new wife and her family. But wearing uncomfortable suits and sitting in an office all day long didn’t appeal to Jared. He loved his forestry work and being outdoors. Too late, he had realized that he and his wife had wanted different things from life.
“It’s no problem. What can I help you with?” He smiled, genuinely pleased to see her again.
She glanced at the dark street, then ducked her head, clenching her delicate hands together like a lifeline. She cleared her voice and swallowed before speaking. “I was just wondering if the catering job is still available.”
He released a silent breath of relief, more than glad that he had put off going into Reno to ask another business to do the job. “Yes, it is. Are you interested?”
She hesitated several moments. “Yes, I think I am.”
He stepped forward, his fingers tightening around the doorknob. “Great. I’m glad to hear that.”
“But first, I’ve got a few questions.”
He lifted a hand in the air. “Of course. Ask anything. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll find out the information for you.”
She took a deep breath, as though she were about to plunge headfirst into an icy pool of water. “How much notice will I get when you need me to feed the fire crews?”
“About twenty-four hours. Is that enough?”
She nodded. “Yes, I think so. How many people will I need to plan on feeding?”
“Around four hundred. Some big fires require feeding two thousand people, but if we get to that point, I’ll bring in some additional caterers. Although you’ll also need to feed about fifty people at the spike camps. Those are remote camps which are mostly for smoke jumpers and hotshot crews. You won’t need to go into the spike camp to serve the meals but rather prepare the food so we can fly it in by helicopter.”
Another nod. “Yes, I know what a spike camp is.”
His mouth dropped open. “That’s right. Your husband was a firefighter, too.”
“Yes.”
He barely caught the word, she spoke so quietly.
“Would you be able to feed that many people?” he asked.
“Yes, I think I can manage that number just fine.”
“Good. I’ve got a watering trough we can fill with ice and then just dump the cans of soda pop and bottled water into it for people to grab and run. But you’ll need to keep a large coffeepot hot and ready twenty-four hours a day,” he said.
“That sounds fine. I’ve got several giant coffee pots we can use. Will you need me to provide the ice?”
He nodded. “Yes, please. And I suggest you hire two or three more cooks to help you prepare the food. Will that be a problem?”
She finally met his eyes. “No, I’m planning to speak with some people I know tomorrow afternoon. Since it’s seasonal work and only if we get a fire nearby, I think they’ll come out of retirement to help me. I also know of two school cooks who are out of work for the summer. I think they’ll jump at the chance for this kind of job. I’ll alternate their schedules, so they don’t get too worn out with the long hours. And then, I’m hoping to make a trip into Reno next week, to buy some additional equipment. Once I’ve got everything ready, I thought you could come over to check it out.”
Impressive. He much preferred hiring an experienced caterer like Megan. She obviously knew what