Sweet Montana Christmas (4 page)

God, Reed was a jerk. How did Sue Anne put up with him?

“How much do I owe you?” She pulled her wallet from her purse hanging on a hook behind the counter.

“Forget about it, Sue Anne.” He took a few steps toward her. “You're my girl, aren't you?”

Zach tensed his muscles but held his position.

Sue Anne looked at him, then guided Reed to the shelves on the far wall, their backs turned toward him.

It wasn't far enough. He could still hear her.

“I'll get your fudge ready.” Julie headed to the back room.

He didn't want to stand there listening, but he wanted to protect Sue Anne if she needed it.

So he stayed where he was.

“I think it's best if you and I take a breather, Reed.” She held out some bills to him. “This should cover it. Now can I have my keys?”

“You dumping me for this guy?” Reed jerked a thumb at Zach. His voice carried loud and clear.

“We're not dating. My keys?”

“You don't really want to do this, do you, Sue Anne?” Reed's voice turned wheedling, like a two-year-old denied what he wanted. “We're good together. We had fun.” Another step. He grabbed her upper arm.

This time Zach moved.

“The lady said she wanted her keys.”

“Back off, buddy.” Reed glared at Zach but toned down the expression after Zach gave him his best cop eyes.

“Can't we have this discussion without other people around?” he asked Sue Anne.

“This is a business. If you wanted privacy, you should have met me somewhere else, like I asked you to. Besides, there's nothing to discuss. I've got work to do. Keys.” She held out her hand.

With another glance at Zach, Reed dug into his pocket and tossed her a key ring with two keys on it.

Sue Anne grimaced as the metal slammed into her palm but didn't say anything. She slid them into her purse.

“What about the shop?” Reed asked. “I was going to help you out with that, remember?” His jaw clenched.

“I think Julie and I will be fine by ourselves,” she said.

“Is that what Julie thinks, too?” Reed asked.

“It's my shop,” Sue Anne said. “I make the decisions. And I've decided we're fine.”

“What about him?”

“What
about
him?”

“Is he going to help out?”

“He's our taste tester.” Sue Anne smiled at Zach, an expression that lit up her eyes in an intriguing way, almost as if there were prisms in the depths of her pupils.

Reed cleared his throat. “I can't believe you're throwing away what we have, Sue Anne, but if that's what you want, I'll get out of your way. For now.”

When he slammed the door behind him, the doorbell sounded a warning alarm.

• • •

Zach grinned when he saw the other guys dig into the sweet-smelling box that evening during his shift. Operation chocolate was a success.

“Wow, man, these are good.” Tony looked like his eyes were about to roll back into his head.

“Let me at them,” Jim, one of the older men on the squad, good-naturedly elbowed his fellow officer out of the way.

Zach's insides relaxed a little more. These were good guys. Maybe he'd be okay.

Unlike Denver.

“What's all the ruckus?” Pat asked, stepping into the squad room.

“Zach brought chocolate.”

“Any nuts in it?”

“I think so,” Zach said.

“Too bad.” Pat shook his head. “Can't take the chance. I'm allergic to nuts.”

Zach bit back a remark. They were the two newest guys on the squad, and they both had to prove themselves, but Pat was ahead of him the moment he walked in the door. Rumors about Zach's stupid mistake in Denver, a mistake that meant they had to retest the drill for a third time, had accompanied him to Missoula.

If only Erin had understood the importance of his job to him. But his ex-girlfriend never understood him at all. He was just a cog in her game plan of marriage, house, and babies. Not that he had any objection to any of that. He'd needed someone to support him and his career goals, too.

F-ing traditional. Ultimately what he wanted, too, but it had gone wrong the moment he'd screwed up. If he were being truthful about everything, he'd have to admit it hadn't all been Erin's fault, but he wasn't ready to let go of the hard knot of anger lodged below his sternum.

“Where did you got these?” Jim asked. “My wife would die for them.” Jim had been married to his wife for close to twenty years, but still seemed besotted by her.

That's what I want.

“New chocolate shop. In fact, it hasn't even opened.”

“How'd you rate, then?” Tony asked.

“Remember the girl who couldn't find her car right after New Year's?”

“The good-looking girl with the curly hair?” Tony's eyes widened. “She was
hot.
You scored with her? You lucky SOB.”

Anger tightened his shoulder muscles.

“No, I didn't ‘score.' She left her lipstick in the car. I returned it, and she asked me to try some samples, that's all. Then she gave me some to share with you jokers.”

“Hey.” Jim gave an easy smile. “No need to get roiled. Tony was just joshin'.”

“It was a nice thing to do,” Pat said. “I'd love to try some. Without nuts, that is.”

Not only was Pat free of black marks, he got along with the squad better than Zach did.

Zach just couldn't free himself of the feeling that the guys were judging him, waiting for him to let them down, like he'd done to his team in Denver. Fortunately, it had only been a drill. If lives had been on the line, the guilt would have clawed out his gut.

“I'll ask next time I see her.” He forced a smile.

The buzzer sounded. “Emergency on West Broadway. Single car accident. Driver trapped inside.”

Zach grabbed his gear and headed toward the ambulance, adrenaline kicking up his pulse. He leapt into the passenger side of the rig and strapped in, his hands tense with anticipation. He called dispatch to tell them they were on the way.

“Fire station number two is on its way, too,” the dispatcher said. “Let me know when you have an assessment of the situation.”

Jim pulled out of the garage, sirens going. Within minutes, they pulled by the wreck, a small white sedan that looked like it had spun out of control, hit a snowbank on the edge of the road, and rolled. Zach struggled through the knee-high snow, packed down from cycles of higher temperatures during the day and freezing ones at night.

He didn't feel the cold as he tested all the doors.

None would budge.

“Can you break a window?” he asked Jim. “Looks like she's bleeding pretty bad. Got to get it stopped quickly. Looks like she's unconscious, too.”

“On it.”

Zach inspected the area for leaking gas and didn't find any, but it didn't mean the danger wasn't there. The engine, in spite of the impact, was still running. He needed to get it shut off.

The smash of glass resounded in the cold night air, followed by the snap of shards from the back window.

“I'll get a blanket on the bottom,” Jim said.

Zach eyed the window and shrugged off his jacket. The air would chill him, but there was no way he was fitting through that window otherwise. As it was, he had to torque his shoulders to squeeze through.

“Kit,” he said to Jim.

“Ma'am? Can you hear me?” He touched her shoulder.

She moaned but didn't respond.

Her body was held in with the seat belt, and they wouldn't be able to get her out until the fire department got there with their hydraulic rescue equipment.

Apparently, she'd been getting fireplace gear. The poker had slid from the box on the passenger side, no doubt released by the impact. During the accident, it had continued its trajectory and pierced the woman's side.

Fortunately, the iron rod hadn't gone in too far. Just enough to cause blood to stream out steadily.

He squirmed around, trying to get to the keys without touching her. Seconds later, the motor was off.

“Hang in there. I'm going apply pressure. I'm not going to lie to you. It's gonna hurt.” He didn't know whether or not the woman was conscious enough to hear him, but he figured it would be better if she knew what was happening.

Straining in his cramped position, Zach applied pressure with the hemostatic gauze he'd readied.

Now all he had to do was hold the bandage where it was and wait. It took both hands, which meant he was unable to check her blood pressure.

“Stay still. That will be the best way to keep comfortable. The fire truck is on its way. I can hear it.”

A barely perceptible nod told him she'd heard him.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No.” She tried to shake her head but moaned in pain.

“Don't move. We'll find out if there's anything else wrong when we get out of here.”

Where was that fire truck?

“It's treacherous driving out here.” He kept talking, hoping she'd hang on to the thread of consciousness until the doctors could examine her. “Reminds me a lot of working in Denver. The airport's out by the start of the plains, and when that wind blows, everything gets icy, just like here, but worse. There's nothing to stop it.”

Memories of the peaks of the airport terminals framed against a blue Colorado sky flitted through his mind.

“I thought I was going to stay there forever. Even had a girlfriend I was thinking about marrying. You married?” He glanced at the woman's hands. No ring. “Doesn't look like it. My parents have been together more than forty years. They've got a good, strong marriage. Kind I wanted. But Erin, she...”

A rap on the window interrupted his babble.

“We're ready.” The fireman was bulked up by his heavy clothes and gear. “Got to use the hydraulic equipment. Makes a lot of noise, so hang on.”

“Got it.” Zach braced himself as best he could and put more pressure on the wound. He hooked his other arm around the woman to hold her as still as possible. “Going to be a lot of noise, and the car's going to shake a bit, but we're going to get you out of here. Just keep breathing steady and stay still.”

This time, there was no response. He looked at the pad, soaked through with blood that was seeping onto his gloved hand.

She was losing ground. The firefighters were moving as fast as they could. He prayed it would be in time.

The operation was quick and noisy, followed by a flurry of activity as they got the woman, poker still in her side, onto a stretcher and loaded into the fire ambulance for the trip to St. Patrick's, minutes down Broadway.

“Do you think she'll make it?” Jim asked as they loaded their equipment back into their own ambulance.

“Hope so. She lost a lot of blood, but she was still semiconscious for most of the time. That's a good sign.”

“You did a good job,” Jim said. “If she has a chance, it's because of you.”

“Thanks, man.”

As Zach slid into the passenger side of the vehicle, pressure eased from his heart. Maybe these guys weren't like the squad in Denver. Maybe they'd accept him as one of their own. If that happened, how could he move on when the time came?

Nope. He'd do what he had to do to be a team player but wouldn't get so sucked in that when the time came, he'd be stuck.

Sue Anne lugged the heavy box from her living quarters to the kitchen area of the shop, Sugar showing her enthusiasm for the project by sniffing the box and putting her paws on the top of it.

“You're not helping, Sugar,” Sue Anne said. “This isn't a toy for you. And you can't stay here while I open it. The health department would have a fit.”

They probably wouldn't be happy with an animal anywhere near the place, but she figured if she wasn't cooking, it wouldn't do any harm.

Once she got the box where she wanted it, she returned to her apartment at the back of the shop. Too much was still in boxes, but she'd made inroads. She'd hung up her photos, always one of the first things she did when she moved into a new place.

Her father's black and white portrait hung over a rolltop desk she'd gotten at a garage sale. An old-fashioned touch but one that reminded her of him. He would have been proud of her dream. She used to beg him to let her go with him. Pipelines traversing the desert were far more intriguing than her mother's emphasis on manners and grooming. Her mind wanted to explore the world, not spend her time with endless social visits.

But her father told her the danger was too great and the area unsettled.

He'd been right. A bomb had blown one early morning and taken him with it.

“I'm going to make you proud,” she said to the picture and imagined her father's smile and nod of approval.

If only her mother was enthusiastic about her new venture.

She filled the dog dishes, and Sugar snuffled her approval, her whole butt wagging.

“You're such a good girl,” Sue Anne patted the dog on the head. “You're the best buddy I could have. When Sweets Montana hits the big time, I'm going to get you lots of cute outfits and spoil you silly.”

Sugar ignored her, concentrating on the kibbles in her bowl.

Locking the door behind her, Sue Anne returned to the box on the floor. This was the first major piece of equipment they'd gotten in, a tempering machine, the heart of her operation. She'd bought the best she could afford, a several-thousand-dollar purchase.

Bending her knees to protect her back as she'd seen in the numerous OSHA videos she'd watched, she hoisted the machine to the counter. The square metal object wasn't heavy, just awkward. Then she pulled the paperwork from the box, set aside the registration and warranty to go back in the office, and began to read the instructions.

This process was one of the more temperamental in the business. A shock to the chocolate could produce some unwelcome results. Her old boss had refused to make chocolate when a thunderstorm was anticipated. He swore it damaged the chocolate every time.