Fighting For Carly, Page 2

  “Oh, you do not,” Bobby Foscoe, the jailer, said when Carly stepped inside, practically dragging Torvis with her.

  “Oh, yeah, I do. Driving that damn lawnmower down the middle of the highway again. I wish Judge Crider would send him to rehab. And every damn time, they call me. I mean, really. What’s that about?”

  “You know what that’s about,” Bobby answered, gazing up at her from under his brows. “It’s about Eric.”

  Sheriff Charles Anderson and Bandera County’s county attorney, Eric Cross. Two peas in a pod. Womanizing, loud-mouthed, cheating, lying, no good sumbitches. She wasn’t sure why they didn’t just kiss and get married. Assholes sure as hell deserved each other. Everything had been fine until she and Eric had divorced, and Anderson had started treating her like shit. Just what she needed. Get rid of one man treating her like shit and get another one. But Eric had always treated her like shit. Anderson? That was not only a new thing, but a thing that really rattled her. Because of it, any promotion in the department that she could’ve had … Well, she was pretty sure that was down the toilet. “Yeah, I know,” she told Bobby as she filled out the paperwork on Torvis. “Don’t know anything I can do about it.”

  Bobby shook his head. “Confront him! Tell him you’re tired of it.”

  “Oh, yeah. That would go over great. Why don’t I just fire myself and get it over with?”

  “Carly, you’re a talented, skilled deputy. Why don’t you just go over to the Kerr County or Kendall County sheriff’s departments and apply? Or even in Uvalde County? Sheriff Jiménez would be glad to have you.”

  “But am I going to let him run me off? I mean, all my family is here. This is my community. They’d want me to move there, and I really don’t want to do that.”

  “I dunno. Sounds like you’re painted into a corner. Your options are limited here.”

  “They sure are.” She laid the clipboard on his counter and dropped the pen on top of it. “I’ll do my report online in the morning, but there’s what you need for right now.”

  “Got it. Thanks, Carly. You about to go off shift?”

  “Yeah. Think I’ll go over and see Tank for a couple of minutes before I go home. Take care.”

  “You too, hon.” Coming from anybody else, that would’ve been grounds for a sexual harassment complaint. Coming from Bobby Foscoe, it was like her grandpa talking to her. Bobby was like that, and she appreciated it. She might not actually work with him, but she knew if she needed anything, he’d break his neck to get to her.

  She left her copy of the paperwork in her slot at the sheriff’s office, then logged out and headed to Tank’s place. It was late, but she knew there’d be some soup there for her, or a sandwich, or something simple. And there’d be somebody who understood her.

  Sure enough, he was sitting on the front porch when she pulled up in the drive. “I can’t believe you wait up like this on my work nights.”

  “Wouldn’t miss a chance to see my little sis. Here ya go.”

  He handed her a covered plate and Carly was shocked. Pulled pork, baked beans, coleslaw, and a roll. “Wow! This is some spread!”

  “Yeah. Had plenty. How’d your shift go?”

  “Well, Torvis is back in jail, and I guess I’ll have to find somebody to tow that damn lawn tractor to impound tomorrow.”

  Tank let out a low chuckle. “Riding while intoxicated again?”

  “Yep. The things that pass for entertainment here,” she said as she covered up the plate.

  “Aren’t you going to eat it?”

  “I will, but I’m gonna take it home. I’m exhausted.” She knew he could see the bags under her eyes, and she was a little surprised he didn’t make some comment. “I figure I’ll eat it, wash your plate, and bring it back tomorrow night if you’ll promise to refill it.”

  He snickered. “I’ll refill it every night if it means you’ll stop by.”

  She leaned over and rested her cheek against his shoulder. “I’ll stop by even if you don’t feed me. Honest to god, I’m about to drop. I’ve gotta go home. But thanks. I love you.”

  Instead of echoing her sentiment, he said, “I bet you say that to all the brothers.”

  “Only the nice ones.” Then she gave a little laugh. “Helps that I only have one!”

  “Yeah. I guess that’s right. Well,” he said as he stood, “see you tomorrow night.” Then he reached a hand down and helped her to her feet. “And be careful out there.”

  “I will. I promise. Night, big brother.”

  “Night, cricket. Text me when you get home so I know you’re inside and safe.”

  “Will do.” She gave him a weak wave and headed back to her cruiser. As she pulled away, she could see him, still standing on the porch and watching her go.

  Her big brother was a helluva guy. It was a shame she couldn’t find somebody just like him. But she had a feeling he was one in a million.

  At least it seemed that way by the looks of all the ones she’d found.

  She’d no more than walked through the door when her phone rang. Asshole Eric. “Fuck. Why tonight?” she muttered as she hit the ACCEPT button. “Yeah?”

  “Carly?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Eric.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake, I know who you are! she wanted to scream. “Yes, Eric. I’m aware it’s you. I have you in my contacts. When your ringtone plays, your name pops up on the screen.”

  A little chuckle came through the speaker. “What’s my ringtone?”

  “Seriously? Taylor Swift. ‘We Are Never Getting Back Together.’ Isn’t that appropriate?”

  The next sound he made was a little sigh. “Seriously, Carly. Do you think I’d want to?”

  “Cut the crap, Eric. What do you want? You didn’t call me to chat about baseball scores.”

  “I was just wondering if you’d found my snorkel and flippers? Because I’m going to―”

  “Need them for the trip to the Bahamas. Yes, I know you’re taking her to the Bahamas. It’s not necessary to call me up and remind me. I’ve heard all about it from Chuck. He made sure to let me know. Thanks for telling him to tell me.”

  “I didn’t tell him to―”

  “Whatever. If I find your snorkel and flippers, I’ll put them on the front porch and send you a text. How’s that?”

  “That’s fine. I wish you weren’t so bitter and―”

  “Goodbye, Eric.” With that, she hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed. As soon as it hit the comforter, it pinged.

  You okay?

  Shit. Tank. She’d forgotten to text him. Yeah. I’m fine. Walked in the door and Eric called.

  What did that dick want?

  To be a dick. He’s handled. Night, brother.

  Night, sis. Sweet dreams.

  Sweet dreams. Yeah, if Eric was the last voice she heard before she closed her eyes for the night, she was sure she’d have nightmares.

  Chapter 2

  “What the hell possessed you to do that?” Clive asked as he rolled another smoke. Ross detested smoking, but his cousin on his mother’s side puffed out black soot when he coughed. Every time he hacked, Ross was sure a hunk of lung was going to come flying out of his throat. As a professional firefighter, it seemed bizarre to him that people would run from smoke and flames but turn around, light a stick of tobacco, and suck it into their bodies.

  “I dunno. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time.”

  “But jump out of a perfectly good plane? That’s just stupid, cuz!” Clive bellowed loudly and laughed.

  “It was something I’d always wanted to do, and I got the opportunity.” There was no way Ross could explain to Clive the thrill of jumping out of that plane with that parachute strapped to his back, or the jerk of the lines on the harness as he pulled the ripcord and the canopy opened above him. He’d felt more alive in those few minutes than he had in years.

  “I can’t even imagine. How did it feel to know that you were going to die if that thing―”
A sound interrupted Clive’s words. “Uh-oh.”

  “Is that the fire siren?” Ross asked as he sat straight up on the sofa.

  “Yep. Something’s going on.”

  “I’m going,” Ross announced and jumped up.

  Clive shook his head. “You can’t go. You’re injured. Not just that, but they can’t let you use their equipment or anything because of the liability. You’re not one of their guys.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Surely I can help with something. I’ll be back.” Ross was already on the run, as much of a run as he could manage with his injury. Clive was yelling something behind him as he went, and he didn’t care. If he could help, he had to.

  His rental pickup truck squalled to a stop in front of the Tarpley Volunteer Fire Department building and Ross peeled out of the cab to see Michael running into the station. “What’s going on?”

  “Fire out in the state natural area. We’re close, so we’re going.”

  “If you’ve got an extra―”

  “No! You stay here!”

  Ross couldn’t believe it. They’d turn down help? “But I can―”

  “No! I don’t have time to argue with you! You can’t come! Stay here! I dunno,” Michael yelled, “clean up the kitchen or something! That’ll help us!” In seconds, he was on board the big truck as it pulled out of the firehouse and was gone.

  Ross stood there and watched them go, a ball of misery in the pit of his stomach. There was a fire, and he couldn’t go. It was all he’d ever wanted, and he couldn’t do it. There was something so unfair about it, and yet he knew it was only temporary. His doctor had promised him he’d make a full recovery if he’d follow orders, and he was trying, but the urge to follow them was overwhelming.

  Instead, he turned back to his truck and climbed in slowly. He contemplated going back to Clive’s, but instead decided he’d just go to Michael’s and wait.

  Sitting there watching TV was torture. The nearest TV station didn’t have a report on the fire, and Michael didn’t have a scanner, a thing Ross found strange. He was a firefighter and he didn’t have a scanner? His cousin had been kind to let him stay there and visit. He’d be deserving of a nice Christmas gift, and Ross knew just the thing.

  It was almost dark when he heard the sound of a truck in the driveway and looked out the window to see Michael pulling up. His cousin barely cleared the door before Ross asked, “What was going on out there?”

  Michael dropped into a recliner, tipped his head back, and sighed loudly as his eyes closed. “Fire in Hill Country State Natural Area. Got it contained.”

  Ross could only guess. “Lightning strike?”

  Shaking his head side to side, Michael said, “Nope. Deliberately set.”

  “What? What the hell?”

  “By a woman who was running from a crazy man with a crossbow.”

  Ross didn’t have anything to say to that. He couldn’t think of a thing to say. All he managed was, “Whaaaaa?”

  “Yeah. Long story. And now, I need a shower and food.”

  In a split second, Ross came to his senses. “Go shower. I’ll order pizza so it’ll be here when you get out.”

  Michael grinned as he stood. “Thanks, cuz. I knew there was a reason I let you stay here!”

  “You’re welcome. Mega super supreme?”

  “Yep. That’s what I want. Be done in a bit.”

  Ross placed the order and sat down. He was waiting for the pizza, but what he was really waiting for was to hear the rest of the story when Michael got out of the shower. And he could barely wait.

  “Oh, come on, Dub-step! Be a good sport! You said you wanted to help, so help,” Tank reminded him. They were all laughing, and he was pretty sure any more argument would be useless. They’d already decided.

  He’d be the guy in the dunking tank for the first part of the day. Oh, lord, I can barely wait, his brain groused. “Okay, but you remember this come the holidays. I want cookie and fruit trays sent to my station house, you hear me?” Even though he was trying to sound stern, he was laughing. It was the least he could do. They’d all been super welcoming and kind to him since he’d been there.

  The community had decided to put on a huge all-day appreciation party for law enforcement, firefighters, first responders, and EMTs in the county, and the volunteer fire department was cooperating in every way they were asked. Since he wasn’t a member of any of their organizations, he’d volunteered to help, and somehow they’d decided the dunking booth would be a good fit for him. It was a shame he’d taken a shower that morning. If he’d known he was going to spend the afternoon soaked, he would’ve saved the time it had taken, not to mention shampoo. Why couldn’t they put him over in the food area, flipping burgers or dishing out barbecue? Nope. Dunking tank it would be.

  The party started at ten on Saturday morning, and Ross climbed onto the platform in the tank dressed in a pair of swim trunks one of the guys had loaned him. For the first two hours, people walked by and grinned, and women whistled and cat-called. That was a wake-up call for him. Women had never behaved that way toward him, and he wasn’t really sure how to deal with it. Worse yet, he was dry as a bone. Several people had bought balls and tried to dunk him, but it just hadn’t happened.

  Lunchtime was rolling around and he knew he’d be relieved from sitting there on his perch while people with zero coordination lobbed balls at a target they’d never hit in a million years. It would’ve been nice if somebody else had offered to sit up here, he told himself. He was getting ready to climb down when a woman walked up. She was gorgeous in a classy kind of way, very shapely, and with the most amazing, glossy, chocolate-colored hair he’d ever seen. And those eyes … If that old saying about brown eyes being bedroom eyes was true, she could drag him into the nearest motel and strip him off for all he cared. Those kissable lips beckoned to him, and he was lost in the sight of her when a jarring reality crossed his mind.

  She was wearing a deputy’s uniform. Oh, holy shit, that’s fucking hot as hell! his brain screamed. As he watched, she bought three balls. And then he noticed something else.

  The people around him had gone silent. No one was saying a word, but they were all grinning, and he found that odd. One glance to his right and he caught the eye of the commander of the volunteer fire department. When he saw Ross looking his way, Pops gave him a huge grin and said quietly, “Boy, you’re royally fucked now.”

  “Why?”

  “She played softball for eight years. Their high school team won the state championship every year off this girl. She’s a pitcher like you wouldn’t believe. All-star every year. You’re going down, Dub-step. The splash is imminent.”

  He turned back to look at the woman again and she gave him a wicked smile, one that set his heart thumping and made his dick harden at the same time. What the hell? She looked like she was going to fillet him and make him happy about it too. All she said to him as she rolled the ball in her palm was, “I hope you like water.”

  Without warning, she let a ball fly and in seconds, Ross felt the platform give way and he plunged into the water. Holy fucking hell, it was ice cold! At least she’d gotten that over with. Lucky pitch. She’d never manage to do it again.

  Resetting the platform, Ross climbed back up and sat down. She looked up at him again and grinned. All she said was, “Get ready.”

  Ross held his arms out emphatically and crowed, “Go ahead, sweetheart! You’ll never do that twice in a row. There’s no―”

  She let loose with a pitch and he felt himself plummet downward again, the splash almost taking his breath. Damn, he couldn’t believe it! That time, he took his time resetting the platform before climbing back up and sitting down. When he did, she grinned up at him again. “Wanna tell me how I’ll never be able to do it three times in a row?” she barked.

  “No, ma’am. I’m not about to do that. I mean, it would be unusual, that’s for sure, but I’m not gonna say you can’t―”

  She didn’t even let him finish before s
he sent him straight down into the water again. Ross’s first thought as he popped to the surface and wiped his eyes was that she’d used up her three balls. That was it. He reset the booth and when he climbed back up, he noticed she was back at the table. Dear god, it looked like she was buying more balls! “Hey! Hey, hey, hey! No! You!” Ross yelled at Dirty-D as he manned the cash box. “Don’t sell her any more balls!”

  “It’s for charity!” Dirty-D yelled back at him.

  “Okay, okay! Tell ya what. Don’t sell her any more balls and I’ll donate a hundred dollars to the event!”

  “A hundred?” Dirty-D asked, one eyebrow cocked.

  The deputy turned and glared at Ross. “Spoil sport,” she muttered and opened her wallet again.

  “Okay, okay! Two hundred and fifty! How’s that? Good enough?” He really didn’t want to be plunged into that tank again, and that was the only way he could come up with to make it stop.

  One of her eyebrows popped up and she glared up at him from under her brow. “Seriously?”

  “Okay, five hundred dollars! Please? Don’t give her any balls, okay? She’s going to drown me,” Ross begged the guy with the cash box.

  “Too late,” somebody in the crowd yelled. “I think she already has balls!”

  The woman stood there, one hip cocked and arms folded across her chest, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re serious. You really want to stay out of the water that badly?”

  “You’re not in here. It’s freezing cold,” he answered.

  She mocked him with, “What’s wrong? Shrinkage scaring you?”

  Wow. She’s got a mouth on her! Ross thought. “Nope. I don’t have to worry about that.” With that comment, people started laughing and egging him on, and he grinned. “Wanna frisk me, officer?”

  Her eyes flew open wide. “I can’t believe you just went there.”

  He glared at her. “You started it.”