White Heat Read online

  His stomach dropped. His gear was at his feet, he was ready to go. As ready as he got, anyway. He figured Lyndie wasn’t the type to linger over hair or makeup or whatever other mysteries women engaged themselves in every morning. She’d be in a hurry to get back up the hill and see what was happening.

  He should be in a hurry as well, but he couldn’t deny that he wished he was sitting on a beach in San Diego, with his biggest concern being the rising tide.

  The porch of the inn was wide and cool, and he leaned back against a post. Once upon a time he’d loved this early hour.

  Now he typically slept it away.

  Tallulah wandered out of the woods toward him, her little legs slowly carrying her. She whined, and when she finally came close enough, he could see why. She was sporting a two-inch gash alongside her nose, just beneath her left eye.

  “What did you put your nose into, dog?”

  Looking pathetic, she sat at his feet and whined again.

  With a sigh, he went into his pack for his first aid kit. “Come here, then.”

  Trustingly, she moved closer and a drop of blood fell at his feet. “Poor baby,” he said, and scooped her into his lap to clean her up, which she let him do with only an occasional whimper.

  He’d just set her back down again when his open backpack rang. Odd, as he didn’t have a cell phone. He went through the red bag he’d have sworn he’d searched thoroughly by now, and pulled a cell out of an inside pocket.

  His brother’s. He lifted a shoulder at Tallulah, who looked as surprised as he, and punched the answer button. “Hello?”

  “You okay?” Brody asked.

  “This is a new low, even for you, planting your cell phone on me.”

  His brother laughed softly. “I was wondering if you’d even know what a ringing phone sounded like, seeing as you’ve been avoiding one for a year now.”

  “Don’t you have something more important to do? Say, take a nap? Or maybe find a lake to toss a line into?”

  “Nah. I’ve got plenty of time for both later. So…” All humor disappeared from Brody’s voice. “How’s it going? I didn’t sleep last night worrying about you, wondering if I’d pushed you too far too fast.”

  “Well, you did. I hope that keeps you up tonight, too. Make that every night.”

  “Damn, Grif…It’s that bad?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah. That helps a lot.”

  “I just thought if I tossed you in, you’d swim, you know? I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Chest uncomfortably tight at the anguish in his brother’s voice, Griffin squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I was perfectly happy sitting on that beach—”

  “Alone.”

  “I didn’t need this—”

  “Yes, you did. You needed that kick in the ass.”

  “It feels like a kick in the heart.”

  “Look, we’ve been through all this. Just promise me you’ll use the phone, okay? Call Mom and Dad—”

  “I’ve got to go.” Griffin clicked off and resisted the urge to toss the thing into the bush. He purposely blanked his mind, petting Tallulah, listening to the birds…and he managed, too, until unbidden came the lovely image of Lyndie and how she’d looked in the shower, all wet and shiny and alluring.

  That worked, too.

  Hard to believe that in all this time, another woman hadn’t turned his head, not once. And yet Lyndie turned his head plenty. Hell, she turned him completely around. Almost as scary as what he had to do today.

  Fight a fire.

  He’d dreamed last night; long, haunting, terrifying dreams, reliving everything that had happened a year ago, and had woken breathless, with the names of the fallen on his lips and tears on his cheeks.

  And he had to go back to that hell today. Now he had Brody’s words in his head as well.

  Call Mom and Dad…

  Damn it. He hadn’t spoken to them in so long…too long.

  He’d lost his way back.

  Brody wanted to help him. The surprise of that—of his wild, irresponsible baby brother coming through for him instead of the other way around—would have been far more potent if he wasn’t here in this very spot facing his nightmares because of Brody.

  He hadn’t called home, and there was great shame in that, but he knew the pain of hearing his parents’ voices would break him. They’d want to talk about what had happened, and he just couldn’t go there, not even for them. Couldn’t relive the incident that had led to so many deaths, not unlike the fire he had to face today—

  Footsteps sounded behind him. The denim-covered legs that appeared in his peripheral were tight and toned. “Well, look at that, you’re so eager you’re waiting outside for me.” Lyndie came down the stairs so that she stood right in front of him. “Or maybe you just want to get it over with?”

  Her hair was still damp, the fiery auburn strands cut in those short chunky layers that framed her small heart-shaped face. She smelled like strawberries today.

  He loved strawberries. “Take your pick.”

  “The latter,” she decided. “You definitely have the look of a man who needs out of here.”

  The front door slammed again. Rosa came out on the porch wearing a gauzy skirt and blouse as bright as yesterday’s, and carried a tinfoil-covered plate. “You,” she said, and jerked her chin at Griffin. “You are in trouble with me.”

  He craned his neck to look around, but nope, she had to be talking to him.

  “You did not eat.” She thrust out the plate, which he took rather than see it tip into his lap. Then, standing right in front of him, she put her hands on her hips and waited.

  He glanced at Lyndie, who only lifted a shoulder. “She’s the boss,” she said. “I’d do what she says.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not that hungry—”

  “Tallulah!” Rosa had caught sight of her dog, and dropped to her knees in the dirt, opening her arms. “Mi querida, what happened to you?” She touched the white bandage beneath the dog’s eye.

  “I think she put her nose where it didn’t belong,” he said. “I cleaned it up so it wouldn’t get infected.”

  Rosa kissed Tallulah, then looked at Griffin. “You are a doctor?”

  “Paramedic training, that’s all.”

  “And a true hero.” Rosa gave him a big hug, and Tallulah—still in her arms—licked his face from chin to forehead. “Heroe mio. No way are you going to work all day long without a good solid base.” Rosa pointed to the plate. “That is a good solid base, I cook it myself.”

  “Thank you—”

  “So eat. And you—” Rosa pointed at Lyndie, whose strawberried lips went from smug to surprise. “I double load that plate. Sit your pretty little butt down next to him and dig in.”

  Lyndie shook her head. “I grabbed a few tortillas off the counter. We have to go.”

  “It’s not quite six. You’re early enough, the sun just barely coming up.”

  Lyndie opened her mouth, probably to give another argument, but Rosa merely pointed her finger to the spot next to Griffin. With a roll of the eyes, Lyndie sat.

  He opened the foil. Eggs, beans, fresh tortillas…the delicious scent wafted up and tickled his nose, coaxing his stomach to rumble hopefully. “Rosa, you’re amazing.”

  Lyndie let out a snort but scooted her “pretty little butt” closer and grabbed a chorizo, a spicy Mexican sausage.

  The door slammed again, and out came Tom, who eyed the plate with interest.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Rosa said and held him back. “I just fed you.”

  Tom patted his flat belly. “Can never get enough of your cooking, Rosa.”

  Rosa patted his flat belly too, and smiled fondly. “Is that right?”

  Tom smiled at her for a long moment, then turned to Lyndie. “You be careful up there today with your asthma, you hear me?”

  “I’m always