Ash (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 6) Page 2

  And his work as one of Bearpaw Ridge's volunteer firefighters had earned him the respect of his family's friends and neighbors. They treated him like a grown man now, instead of "Elle's youngest boy."

  There was just one small problem. He was a bear shifter who couldn't shift.

  For a long time now, he and the rest of his family had been hoping that Ash might just be a late bloomer. He had hoped so, too, especially since he occasionally felt the stirring of something other, deep inside him.

  Most shifters experienced their first shift by the time they hit high school, and lot of them shifted while they were still little kids. Ash's little nephew Matthew had shifted at the age of three, and his cousin Patrick's daughter Olivia had shifted before she could even walk.

  Ash was well into his twenties now, and no matter how hard he tried to bring the other up to the surface so that he could shift into bear-shape, nothing ever happened. He'd stopped trying to shift a while ago.

  He tried to tell himself that he was okay with that. He still had a bear shifter's enhanced senses and preternatural strength, after all.

  After he graduated from college, Ash had continued to work from his headquarters at the Swanson family ranch, employing a staff of remote software engineers and testers located all over the country. Things ran pretty smoothly via email, IM, Skype, and conference calls, with the occasional company-wide face-to-face meeting held in Seattle, Silicon Valley, or Las Vegas.

  And then there was his wonderful, talented sister-in-law Steffi, an alum from Silicon Valley's Copper Shark Systems, who had quit her lucrative telecommuting gig with CSS to take on the role of Marketing Director for Grizzly Creek Games. Steffi had used her huge network of contacts to find and hire a large staff of social media experts, and with her help, Ash had propelled Hunter's Blood into the gaming stratosphere.

  Last summer, he had spent a lot of his free time house-hunting online for properties in the Seattle area. Nika was coming up to her final year at UW's med school, so they'd been planning to live in Seattle while she finished up her schooling and did her residency.

  Then he had found out the hard way that no shifter woman wanted a shifter mate who couldn't actually shift.

  These days, Ash only left his house to do his chores around the ranch. He buried himself in work on a major and completely revised version of Hunter's Blood.

  A lot of people's jobs and well-being relied on him these days, and he didn't want to let them down.

  He had successfully faked his way through all the family holiday gatherings. Between his rambunctious niece and nephew, Justin's proposal to Mom at Thanksgiving, and their Christmas wedding, it had been easy for Ash, who was naturally soft-spoken, to fade into the background and avoid uncomfortable questions from his family about his mated-but-alone status.

  His mom actually seemed to be in comfortable denial about the situation, occasionally encouraging Ash to reactivate his ShiftMatch online account.

  The only time Ash really felt alive was when his smartphone sounded the first responder app alert, and he was headed out on a call for the BPRFD.

  Like right now, as he and Justin were racing from the ranch to a house fire reported on the outskirts of town.

  It was a bleak winter day, with a strong storm sweeping straight down out of Canada, driving thick snowflakes against the pickup's windshield. The wipers and defrosters were all working at full power and only barely winning the battle against the steady drift of white.

  As they drove. Ash's blood pounded through his body. The familiar adrenaline spike of impending danger sharpened all his senses, leaving the taste of steel across his tongue. He felt completely awake and alert.

  This mattered. Saving the lives of his family's friends and neighbors mattered, even if his own life was mostly gray and useless now.

  The last of the short afternoon's light had faded into a gloomy twilight when they pulled off the highway and into the Ornelas Organic Dairy's long gravel drive.

  The wind had picked up since they’d left the Grizzly Creek Ranch, and the smoke streaming from the farmhouse's windows was a flat dark banner parallel to the snowy ground.

  As they rolled up the dairy farm's long drive, Ash looked around for the tanker truck and realized that he and Justin were first on the scene.

  "Shit," he said, twisting around to grab his fireman's coat and helmet from behind the seats.

  He and Justin had brought their turnout gear and SCBA—self-contained breathing apparatus—gear, but they wouldn't be able to do much without the BPRFD's trucks, hoses, and ladders. "Where is everyone?"

  "Right behind us, son," Justin answered calmly as he reached for his own gear.

  He had apparently caught sight of the fire engine's flashing lights speeding down the highway an instant before Ash saw them too.

  Ash let out a breath of relief.

  His older brothers Mark, Evan, and Dane were also volunteer firefighters for the BPRFD. Mark and Dane had had been bunking at the town's small firehouse this week, so they could drive the fire engines out to calls if needed.

  His other brother Evan lived in town with Steffi, and Ash knew that Evan would have made a dash for the firehouse, located three blocks away from his apartment, when the alert sounded.

  As Ash stepped out of the warmth of the pickup into a blast of wind and flying snow that slashed him in the face and down the open front of his firefighter's jacket like a sword made of ice, he saw Ernesto "Ernie" Ornelas, his wife Teresa, and their three teenagers huddling in the shelter of the large barn that stood about twenty-five yards from their house.

  The Ornelas family had all made it out of the house, thank God.

  They were in their pajamas and wrapped in an assortment of quilts and blankets. All of them looked half-frozen and utterly miserable, but uninjured.

  The ladder truck's flashing red strobe light illuminated the house's white siding like some hellish rock concert as it rolled up the driveway and came to a stop behind the pickup truck. Right behind the ladder truck, Ash saw the tanker truck coming up the Ornelas' driveway, with his second-oldest brother Mark behind the wheel.

  And trailing behind the fire engines came the BPRFD's brand-new paramedic van, driven by Fred Barker, the fire department's long-time EMT.

  Within moments, all six volunteer firefighters had donned their protective gear. Fred immediately went over to the Ornelas family with an armful of shiny silver thermal blankets and his suitcase-sized first aid kit.

  "Is anyone else inside?" Fred asked them urgently.

  That was the most important question. It would direct the firefighters' plan of attack.

  Ernie Ornelas shook his head. He and Teresa both looked blank-faced with shock. Teresa was clutching a stack of photo albums in her arms like a baby.

  "I'll take the roof," Ash said quickly as his oldest brother Dane began to raise the fire engine's ladder and maneuver it into place.

  Ash's offer earned him a sharp look from Justin, but Bearpaw Ridge's newest volunteer firefighter didn't protest. They all knew that it was standard firefighting procedure to try to cut a hole in the roof of a burning house as soon as possible.

  The ventilation provided by a well-placed hole gave the firefighters their best chance of controlling the fire by drawing the flames and keeping them confined to a single spot inside the structure.

  The hole would also serve as a chimney, allowing the smoke, heat, and toxic fumes inside the structure to vent and improving visibility and conditions inside the burning building once the firefighters made their way inside.

  "I'm goin' too," Justin said.

  Justin thinks I'm suicidal. But I'm just trying to protect them.

  It was the same equation that Ash performed on every call before volunteering for the most dangerous job. If something happens to one of the others, how many mates, children, parents, and other loved ones will they be leaving behind?

  And the answer was the same as always: too many. As a childless man abandoned by his mate, Ash w
as the most expendable member of the BPRFD, and he knew it.

  If he didn't have a mate or children to protect, then Ash was determined to protect his fellow firefighters, who not had only children, but in Fred's case, grandchildren too.

  Ash slipped his arms though the shoulder straps of the backpack frame that held his air tank and settled the wide plastic SCBA mask over his face.

  After graduating from university, Ash had taken a vacation in Cozumel that had included scuba-diving lessons. He remembered how weird it had felt to put on a diving mask and breathe from a regulator without donning the rest of his turnout gear…and to move around without a single trace of smoke visible, just colorful fish darting through the clear turquoise waters over a coral reef.

  Ash drew a deep breath, assured himself that everything was working fine, picked up a pair of axes, and headed for the ladder.

  Someone clapped him on the shoulder as he grabbed for the short ladder built into the side of the truck.

  "Take care, y'hear!" Justin shouted. "Or your mama's gonna have me skinned!"

  His voice was barely audible over the steady roar of the fire engine's motor and the mechanical whine of the ladder hoisting into place.

  Ash couldn't help grinning at the sudden mental image of a sabertooth cat rug in his mother's Victorian parlor, and he gave Justin the thumbs-up before beginning his climb.

  As Ash began to ascend the engine's main ladder, he saw that Mark and Evan were busily unrolling hose from the tanker truck. Good. They needed to be ready to begin spraying as soon as he'd ventilated the building.

  Justin began climbing up the ladder behind Ash.

  Ash reached the top of the ladder and surveyed the roof for the best place to cut the ventilation hold. The dairy's farmhouse was over a hundred years old, and the roof was covered with asphalt shingles, maybe several layers of them.

  Up here, high above the ground, it was easy to believe that he was all alone in a wilderness of wind that drove freezing needles through every tiny gap in his gear. Ash's hearing was muffled by the Darth Vader-like sound of his respirator, and his peripheral vision and sense of smell were both blocked by the face mask of his SCBA gear.

  He located the spot he needed and stepped off onto the roof. It was wet and slippery beneath his boots.

  Ash lifted his heavy axe and swung downwards with all his shifter-enhanced strength.

  Justin arrived and moved into position to help Ash open a triangular ventilation hole.

  Ash was just raising his axe for the next blow when he saw the roof shingles beneath Justin's boots suddenly sink under the sabertooth shifter's weight.

  Shit!

  Ash knew what was about to happen, but his bulky, half-frozen coat and bunker pants slowed him down. It felt like slow motion as he dropped his axe and lunged forward to push Justin out of danger.

  His stepfather went down, pinned on his back like an upended turtle by his heavy air tank. He slid perilously down the slope of the wet roof.

  Ash heard Justin shout something, but the words were hopelessly muffled by his respirator mask.

  An instant later, the section of roof beneath Ash collapsed with a loud groan of overstressed timber.

  As he plummeted down into thick smoke, Ash's only feeling was relief that Justin was going to be okay. It would be too cruel if his mother were widowed a second time.

  Something hit Ash hard across his midsection—probably one of the attic joists—and knocked the wind out of him. A stabbing pain lanced through his chest and side.

  Broken ribs, he thought. He realized that there was a pretty good chance he wouldn't survive this.

  As he fell, Ash tried desperately to hold onto his SCBA mask and the life-giving air it represented. But then the unwieldy tank on his back caught on something. For an instant, he dangled helplessly in a dark, smoke-filled space. He flung out his arms, frantically groping for something to hold onto. But there was nothing.

  All his struggles did was dislodge him from his precarious perch.

  Ash began to plunge into the smoke again. The mask ripped away from his face, and something hit his helmet hard enough to rattle his teeth and make him bite his tongue.

  The last thing he remembered was someone yelling his name from somewhere far above him.

  Then he hit the floor head-first, and everything disappeared.

  Chapter 2 – Cold Reception

  As the Greyhound bus pulled away, leaving her standing on a deserted, snowy sidewalk, Nika realized three important things.

  One: February in Bearpaw Ridge was much, much colder than February in Seattle. Or New York City. Her face ached after being slapped by the first blast of subzero wind howling down Main Street, and she realized that her hiking jacket and jeans weren't going to cut it here. As for her thin leather gloves…well, she shouldn't even have bothered.

  Two: Bearpaw Ridge was a small town. A really small town. She looked up and down the short length of Main Street, which was lined with century-old brick storefronts, and spied a couple of modestly sized neighborhoods tucked away in the side streets.

  Three: There weren't any ride-sharing services available in Bearpaw Ridge, according to what she was seeing on her smartphone screen. No Uber, no Lyft. Nothing. Not even a taxi.

  How the hell am I going to get out to Grizzly Creek Ranch? Nika thought in despair. She was a city girl, born and bred, and it hadn't even occurred to her that Ash's hometown wouldn't have any of the basic services found in Seattle or her native New York City.

  She tapped her Google Maps app, and it confirmed what she already knew. The ranch was a twenty-minute drive out of town…probably longer, in this weather.

  I guess I'll have to take a chance and call him. It's either that or turn into an icicle.

  Because even if it was true that Mama was having Nika's phone calls traced, now that Nika was in Bearpaw Ridge, she could warn Ash about the danger he was in before her parents could spring into action.

  Or so she hoped.

  Nika fumbled for Ash's contact details with rapidly numbing fingers and tapped the Call icon. Her heart pounding, she waited for him to pick up. After three rings, the call went to voicemail.

  Hey, this is Ash Swanson. Sorry to miss your call! If it's important, please leave me a message or text me. I promise I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

  Even recorded like this, his deep, warm voice had the power to kindle a spark of heat deep inside her, in a place that had been numb and dead for the past seven months.

  I've missed you so much, she thought, feeling a wave of dizzy longing sweep over her. She tried to crush it. She'd had a lot of practice pushing down her emotions, but this time, the spark refused to die.

  The beep of the voicemail prompt brought her back to the present.

  "Uh, hi, Ash," she began awkwardly, struggling under a crushing weight of guilt and desperation. "It's Nika. I know you must be wondering why I'm calling you after all this time, but it's important. Really important." She took a deep breath. Focus. "I'm in Bearpaw Ridge, and I have to see you. Please call me or text me as soon as you can. Please. You're in danger, and it's all my fault. I'm really sorry. I—"

  A beep on the other end of the line interrupted her, and an automated female voice said, "If you are satisfied with your message, press the pound key. If you want to record a new message, press one and begin speaking after the beep."

  She jabbed at the # icon on her phone screen with a finger that was quickly going numb.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize that command." the automated voice said. "If you are satisfied with your message, press the pound key. If you want to record a new message, press one and begin speaking after the beep," it repeated.

  This time, Nika kept tapping the # icon until the voice finally said, "Voicemail message saved. Thank you."

  Her teeth began to chatter as she searched for the nearest car rental agency. It was located in Salmon, a good thirty-five-minute drive away.

  Nika wanted to cry with frustration.<
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  She couldn't be this close to her goal and stranded just out of reach!

  Is the universe really that cruel?

  Nika squinted down the length of the street, hoping against hope that there was a hotel somewhere in sight, but no luck. She saw a bar, a BBQ restaurant, and a bakery, along with a bunch of clothing and sporting goods stores. But no hotel, which seemed strange for a town that lived on tourism.

  What she did see, directly across the street, was a large vacant lot with a big billboard sign announcing, Coming Soon! The Schlumbacher Hotel and Conference Center…a modern event center for all your needs!

  Back to her phone to look for hotels, motels, and Airbnb…only to find most of the lodgings were closed for the winter, and the closest available Airbnb rental was a cabin located miles away on the fringes of a nearby national park.

  Meanwhile, she was getting colder and colder. Her toes were already numb inside her fashionable boots, and her hands were stiff and clumsy, making her smartphone hard to use. Her teeth were chattering nonstop now, and she was shivering so hard that she was shaking.

  She had to find a restaurant or some other warm place to recoup and figure out her next step. And she had to try phoning and texting Ash again and hope to hell that he didn't block her number before he received her warning.

  Her phone's low battery alarm went off. She stared down at it in horror. But it was at 30% charge when I got off the bus!

  Then she remembered that extreme cold drained a smartphone's batteries much faster.

  What am I going to do now?

  A flash of movement caught her eye. She looked to see a big white pickup truck driving slowly down the street, its wipers working furiously.

  As it pulled up next to her, she saw the silhouette of a bear painted on the driver's side door, with the words Grizzly Creek Ranch, est. 1871 inside the bear's outline.

  Her heart squeezed with sudden wild hope as she saw the profile of a dark-haired man wearing a cowboy hat inside the pickup.

  The truck came to a stop, and the passenger side window rolled down.