Playing With Fire: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 2) (29 page)

Pete said nothing.

Conner rolled down the window, letting the cool, bracing air keep him awake, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

“So, now you have a girlfriend, huh?” Pete asked out of the blue.

Conner glanced at him.

“Just summing up that last conversation. Why don’t you just cut to the chase and marry her, dude?”

Marry. The word settled over him, through him. Marry her.

He must have made a sound of dissent, because Pete shook his head.

“Jed told me about your brother, Justin. About how he died working undercover and how you never found his killer.”

He’d have to thank Jed personally for revealing that tidbit of information. Conner’s mouth tightened into a knot of disapproval.

“You probably don’t know this, but my dad died when I was fifteen—a skiing accident. He was skiing with me, something my brother, Sam, can’t forgive me for.” Pete said it loosely, with a half shrug.

“The thing is about my dad was that he was this great Christian, and while I believe in God, well, I’m nowhere near who my dad was. But you are. I overheard you and Jed talking a couple of weeks ago. You said something about faith, and how it believes that God is on our side, every time, all the time, and that He’ll show up. And I want to believe that.”

Conner looked at him and Pete sighed.

“I think after this summer I’m headed back home to Mercy Falls,” Pete said. “My mom got diagnosed with cancer about a year ago, and I spent the winter there—working at the family lumber company. But I made a lot of mistakes in Mercy Falls, and it’s not without the memories, you know? So I guess I need to know—is it true? Does God really forgive us, fix our messes, love us anyway? Or is that a fairy tale? Because I’m thinking if it’s up to me to fix my mistakes, I’m in trouble.”

Pete made a face that, for the first time, seemed devoid of any Pete-Brooks-Charm, something authentic. “But seriously—do you really believe that, or are you just saying it? Because you always look like you have everything together. But if you don’t believe in happy endings, there’s not much hope for me.”

Conner stared ahead at the shiny black tar, sorting his reply.

He
did
have it all together—at least to the guys. But if he were to take a good look, he preferred to have faith in what he could hold onto, control. And yes, while he believed his words to Jed, maybe he hadn’t exactly embraced them for himself.

Liza’s words thundered into his head.
I don’t need promises. I just need you, showing up every day to love me.

And that was the point, wasn’t it? In order to trust God, he had to trust God’s goodwill toward him, His desire to show up every day to save him.

After all, hadn’t He already proved it?

“If God is for us, who can be against us?” Conner said quietly into the night.

A slow smile slid across Pete’s face. “There he is. The Reverend Young.”

“It’s true for you, Pete. And me. Because that’s what God does—shows up to save us. Shows up to love us, every day. Nothing can separate us from his love. And that’s the hope we need that everything will work out. And yeah, I believe in happy endings, because God says so.”

And he would start living like it, too.

The lights of Kalispell turned the night sky to amber as he turned east, headed for the medical center. He topped the hill, found the sprawling complex, and pulled into the front lot.

CJ roused, and Skye lifted her head, sat up.

“So,” said Pete. “What’s the plan on getting Conner in without him getting arrested?”

“No plan,” Conner said. “We’re just going to walk in there, and I’m going to make them a deal. I’ll surrender myself, my drone plans, and all my information as long as they let me say good-bye to my girl.”

“But—” Skye started.

“It’ll all work out,” Conner said, reaching for the door handle. “I promise.”

#

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go in there.”

The words, in a voice she didn’t recognize, roused Liza from the cottony darkness into the dim light of the hospital room. A cannula filtered oxygen into her nose, and fluid burned into her veins from the IV in her hand.

She didn’t hurt—much—the woozy, ethereal sense of pain meds turning the room wobbly.

And then—Conner?
Not
wobbly, but smiling down at her, his face grimy with dirt and sweat, a two-day grizzle framing his soft, albeit worried smile, his devastating blue eyes holding hers.

“Hey there, Donut Girl,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He met her eyes again with a shake of his head. “Stay away from you? R
eally?
Hardly.”

Liza wanted to shrug, but it hurt so she just nodded. “I didn’t want to get you into trouble.”

“I can get in trouble all on my own, baby. I don’t need your help.”

Night pressed against the windows in the private room, the smell of antiseptic and cotton mingling with his woodsy, sweaty, manly aura.

She wanted to leap from the bed and climb into his arms.

More voices outside, shouts, and then again, “Really, but no, sir, I can’t allow you to go in there. He’ll be out in a minute.”

Yep, Pete’s voice, and now she frowned, trying to catch up. “Wait—are the Feds really out there?”

“Yeah, Pete and CJ are having a discussion with them right now. We thought it would be best if I ducked in here first and said good-bye.”

He winced a little when he said it, and she wanted to reach up, touch his face, ease the frown away.

“You didn’t find the drone, did you?”

He shook his head. “And it was my last one—but I do have my blueprints...” He offered a feeble smile. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Liza. But I do know that—whatever does—”

“I’ll be here, Conner.” She said it fast, before he could offer up anything brave or even stupid. “I love you, and I don’t have to know what tomorrow will bring in order to say that or to promise that I’ll wait for you.”

He had her hand and now brought it to his lips and kissed it. “I know this is incredibly selfish and that I should probably be saying good-bye, pushing you out of my life—”

“What—?”

“Shh...for your own good. Because on the crazy, wild chance that they find me guilty of something I didn’t do, then, yeah, you’ll be spending your Saturdays being strip-searched and visiting me on the other side of the glass. But I’m trying to put action to my faith, and I’m believing that somehow God’s going to bail us out of this mess. That He’s got a future and that it includes me and you, together. Living
happily ever after
. So even though Pete is probably right outside that door wrestling a man named Tex, who’s intent on hauling me away in cuffs, here I am on my proverbial knee asking you to—”

“You’d better say
marry me
.”

He stopped. Swallowed. Nodded. “I know it’s not all that romantic—and I promise you romance and sunrises and a ring—but until then, I just need you to know that I’m all in. Forever. And if you promise not to run, I promise to, well...start making promises.”

“I told you that you don’t have to make me promises.” She let a soft smile tip her lips, added warmth to her eyes.

“I know. But, babe, you deserve a promise—not because you’re afraid that I’ll walk out on you but because that’s what people do. They commit their good will, their loyalty to each other. Promise to keep showing up and keep that promise every day.”

He brought her hand to his lips. “So,” he said softly, “I promise. Everything. All of it. If you’ll just—”

“Deal,” she said quietly. “I’ll marry you.”

His blue eyes shone. Then he leaned down and kissed her. Sweetly, the ruff of his whiskers brushing her chin, his lips soft on hers. He lingered there, just settling in, the promise of their future in his touch.

And when he leaned up, met her gaze with his, she saw it there, too.

The door banged open behind them, and Conner jerked around to see Pete backing into the room, his hand on the chest of a man who looked, indeed, like a Tex. Tall, wide shoulders, wearing a Stetson and a get-’er-done expression, he dwarfed Pete by a good two inches.

CJ came tumbling in after them. “Sorry, Conner! He said time’s up.”

And the look of resolve that tightened in Conner’s expression said it was. He squeezed Liza’s hand, then lifted his hands in surrender. “It’s okay, boys.” He turned to Pete. “Thanks.”

Tex grabbed him by the shoulder, and Liza wanted to weep when Tex turned Conner, pulling his hands down behind him, cuffing him. “You’re not under arrest, but I can’t have you running away. This would have been a lot easier if you’d simply come in for questioning two days ago.”

But Conner had his gaze on Liza, a smile on his face. “My girl needed me,” he said.

Tears burned her eyes.

Tex manhandled him back around, when the door banged open again.

And behold, in the frame stood a big man, sooty from head to steel-toed boots, wearing a ash-streaked yellow shirt, grimy green pants, reverse raccoon eyes, and a crazy white grin. “I found your girlfriend!”

Huh?

Liza scanned her gaze from the man to Conner, then back.

Conner started to laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Hauled her in from the Razor Creek fire while you were out playing Superman.” The fireman was holding something blackened and mangled, a twisted plastic body, warped tail, wings curled in on themselves. He produced it like it might be an award for Conner.

A burned drone.

“You can barely make out the orange number four on the tail. Wasn’t that the one you were looking for a couple of days ago, when you nearly made us dance around the buffalo?”

For the first time, Liza noticed the man’s expression, something of disbelief. Conner nodded. “Yeah. It went down in the Browning’s field.”

“I know. So it’s got us wondering how it could have ended up twenty miles to the north of town at the head of the tiny two acre wannabe conflagration off of Razor Creek.”

The man set the drone on the table at the foot of Liza’s bed. Then he glanced at her. “Howdy, ma’am. Reuben Marshall. I work with Conner.”

A big man with buffalo shoulders, unruly dark brown, nearly black hair—although that could be the soot—he had the bearings of a guy who stood by his friends.

And right behind him stood another man, one she thought she recognized.

“Jed Ransom?” Liza asked, grinning at the Jude County Smokejumpers crew boss. He looked as fire drenched as Reuben. “Are you jumping fires?”

“Hey there, Donut Girl.” Jed came over, touched her toes, tented under the blanket. “I heard you wrestled a grizzly.” He winked at her. “And won.”

“I had help,” she said and shot a look at Conner.

“Yeah, well, when Reuben picked up the drone, I figured we needed to track Conner down.” His smile was warm. “Should have figured he’d be here with you. It’s about time.”

“How about uncuffing the poor guy?” A woman’s voice—she came in and stood behind Jed, hooked her grimy arm through his. Tall and sturdy, she wore her auburn hair pulled back, her face looking freshly washed, although soot clung to her ears, her nose, her neck. “He clearly isn’t going to run, and you have your drone.”

“Kate Burns—this is Liza Beaumont. My
real
girlfriend,” Conner said, casting a gimlet look at Reuben, who shrugged.

Tex was working off the cuffs. “We need to have a long and detailed conversation. Tonight.”

Conner rubbed his wrists. “Of course.” He reached out to pick up his melted drone, turning it over, a sadness in his expression. “If the drones are being refitted with something flammable, then we have a real problem.”

Jed came over to inspect the drone. “Right. Because that means someone else has their hands on them and is trying to set you up as an arsonist.”

“No,” Pete said. “The
real
problem is the fact there is someone setting fires around Ember, knowing we’ll jump them.”

“In faulty parachutes,” Kate added. “We found damaged chutes at the beginning of the season,” she said as an aside to Tex. “Which means this is personal. Someone is out to get the Jude County Smokejumpers.”

The words settled over them a long moment before Jed finally nodded, then addressed the federal agent. “Listen. Our team is grimy, tired, and hungry. We’re hunkering down in a nearby hotel tonight. How about you come with us, and we’ll tell you what we know about the fires, where the drones went down, and which of the fires might have been arson. Conner will swing by when he’s done tucking in his gal.”

He shot Liza another smile.

“I’ll meet you for breakfast tomorrow,” Conner said, amending Jed’s plan. Clearly the man had no intention of hunkering down anywhere but at her bedside.

He came over, took her hand.

Skye had come in with CJ and now sidled over to Liza’s bed as the team exited into the hall. She leaned close to her ear. “You were right.”