LITMIR.BIZ

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suffering. Norm meant everything to Wade. He’d endured a childhood filled with death and rejection, especially when his father went to prison. Norm was one of the few who’d cared about the abandoned boy. She had been another.

      “Listen, Wade. I’m really sorry about Norm.” She reached out to touch his arm but the hard set of his jaw warned her off. She dropped her hand to her side.

      Wade had never wanted her sympathy, never even allowed her close—except for that night at the river. But if the boy had been adept at hiding emotions, this man had become an expert.

      “I’ll need you to sign the register,” she said, taking refuge in a safer topic. She crossed the foyer to the hutch, opened a drawer and pulled out a clipboard and pen. “You can pay by the night or the week, which is a little cheaper. Breakfast is included with the room, but you can have full board if you want, although truthfully, lunch is just leftovers or sandwiches since I’m gone during the day.”

      When he strode toward her, she noticed his limp. No surprise there. Anyone who made a living jumping out of airplanes was bound to get injured. And Wade always had taken more risks than most.

      He reached for the clipboard and she saw scars on his hands. “The rates are at the bottom,” she said as he scanned it. “But you get a ten percent discount since you’re a friend.”

      “I don’t care about the cost.” He scribbled his name on the paper and handed it back.

      “Fine.” She set the clipboard back in the drawer. “The kitchen is just down the hall.” Of course, he would remember that. “We’re eating now. If you’re hungry, you’re welcome to join us.”

      “No, thanks. I’d rather sleep.”

      She nodded and started up the curving staircase. “Well, if you get hungry later, help yourself to any leftovers you find in the fridge. You can heat them up in the microwave. My grandmother sleeps in the room off the kitchen, but she doesn’t hear well anymore, so don’t worry about bothering her. I’m up here, just down the hall from you.”

      She glanced back to make sure he was following. Despite the limp, he climbed the stairs quickly and she was struck again by his strength. She’d never quite believed Norm’s renditions of Wade’s smokejumping escapades—lugging a hundred-pound pack over steep mountains, carrying an injured buddy to safety. But judging by the width of those shoulders, she fully believed Norm now.

      At the landing she crossed to the master bedroom, then waited inside for him to catch up. She’d always loved this room with its original, random-width flooring, the gorgeous fireplace mantel and bay windows overlooking the river.

      But Wade wasn’t here to admire the scenery.

      He dropped his bag on the braided rug, pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it on the bed. Her gaze traveled from his heavily corded arms to his flat stomach, up his wide, muscled chest to his face. When he pinched the space between his eyebrows, her heart rolled. The man was clearly exhausted.

      “The bathroom’s straight through there.” She pointed past the armoire. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

      When he didn’t answer, she turned to leave. She grabbed the door to close it behind her, hesitated and glanced back. “I might not be here when you get up in the morning, so help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen. The coffee should be on. I usually leave the front door unlocked since Lottie’s here with Grandma, but I’ll set an extra key for you on the hutch.”

      She shut the door behind her and walked to the stairs, then stopped and clutched the railing. Her pulse heaved in her ears. Her knees trembled and threatened to buckle. Oh, Lord. As a teen, she’d adored Wade Winslow—his wild and reckless ways, his raw masculinity, the tough attitude that hid his soft heart. But this man…

      She sucked in a reedy breath. The adult Wade Winslow rattled her completely.

      And she had to be brutally honest. No matter how many years had passed, he still affected her. Always had and probably always would. But the grown man didn’t want her sympathy or love any more than the boy had. Maybe less.

      Sighing deeply, she headed down the stairs. Wade had built barriers around his heart, all right, formidable ones that she’d never breach. Not that it mattered. Once Norm died, he’d leave, the same as he did before. Only this time, he’d never return.

      Wade braced his hands on the shower wall and angled his head so the hot water pummeled his shoulders. He groaned as the heat seeped into his muscles and eased the stiffness and pain. After twelve hours of sleep and a shower, he felt almost human.

      Not that feeling tired was new. Despite napping every chance he got—on the jump plane en route to a fire, on a folding chair in the ready-room, or even in a patch of shade on the tarmac—he lived with chronic exhaustion. And filth. Fighting wildfires was dirty work. He routinely spent days digging fire lines, falling snags with his chain saw and sifting through ashes for hot spots, all in the same, sweat-drenched clothes.

      But as good as this shower felt, he didn’t have time to linger. Snapping off the water, he toweled off and pulled on a T-shirt and jeans. Then he tossed the quilt over the rumpled sheets on the bed and quickly jerked on his jacket. Max would have called if anything had happened to Norm, but he couldn’t afford to waste time.

      The hot water had worked the stiffness from his knee, so he tramped easily down the wide, winding staircase and through the back hall to the kitchen. He wondered if Erin was still around. That had been a shock last night, finding her in the doorway.

      She’d looked more fragile than he remembered, thinner, but still beautiful with that thick, auburn hair piled carelessly on her head. He’d seen that same, deep red in crown fires over the years. The color never failed to mesmerize him, reminding him of Erin’s long, gleaming hair streaming over her naked breasts in the moonlight.

      He never understood why she’d come to him that night. It still seemed like his wildest dream. She hadn’t hung out with that crowd, shouldn’t even have been at that party. And when she’d kissed him, touched him, begging him to make love to her, she’d shocked him out of his mind.

      He should have walked away. A decent man would have done that. But he’d ached for her, hungered for her for so damn long that he couldn’t deny himself—or her, when she’d whispered his name. He’d never had the heart to turn down Erin.

      But no matter how incredible that night had been, Erin wasn’t his business now. He’d only come back to help Norm—which he intended to do as soon as he grabbed some coffee.

      He entered the large, farm-style kitchen. Long counters flanked a deep sink topped with tall windows. Mrs. McCuen and another woman he vaguely recognized sat at a table drinking coffee. When he didn’t see Erin, he hitched out his breath.

      “Hello, Wade.” The woman with the wispy gray hair smiled. “I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Lottie Brashears. I was the school nurse for a while.”

      “Sure, I remember.” He nodded to Erin’s grandmother, a tiny woman with white hair piled on her head. “Mrs. McCuen.”

      Mrs. McCuen frowned. “Are you from the bank?”

      “The bank? No.”

      “You remember Wade, don’t you?” Lottie asked her. “Norm Decker’s boy. He went to school with Erin.”

      Mrs. McCuen’s expression eased. “Oh, yes, Erin’s friend.”

      Friend. Right. The friend who took her virginity and then fled town. But he’d been right to leave. Erin deserved someone better than him. Someone respectable, stable, who’d keep her happy and safe.

      He shifted his gaze to the counter. “Mind if I have some coffee?”

      “Go right ahead,” Lottie said. “The cups are above the machine. Help yourself to the doughnuts, too. Or there’s cereal, if you’d rather have that.”

      “This is great,

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