Read Not Just a Cowboy (Texas Rescue) for Free Online Page B

have crossed that flood herself had made him grateful for things he normally didn’t give a second thought.
    But it was Wednesday now, the water had receded substantially, and they’d “rescued” only empty, toppled ambulances yesterday. Today, they’d cleaned their fire engine. And cleaned it. And cleaned it some more.
    He shoved the long-handled broom into the fire engine’s ladder compartment, a stainless steel box that ran the length of the entire fire engine, then swept out dried mud that had clung to the ladder the last time they’d slid it into its storage hold. Yeah, big change from mucking stalls. At least this dirt smelled better.
    Luke had looked forward to following someone else’s orders, but being a rookie gave him too much time to think. He wasn’t required to use his brain at all, not even to decide what to clean next. This gave him way too much time to relive the mistakes he’d made with Patricia last night. He’d been childish, she’d said, refusing to return her clipboard. He’d shoved her into a tent, like giving an unwilling filly a push into her stall. He’d slid a sandwich and a bag of chips and a Gatorade bottle under the edge of the tent door like he was feeding a prisoner.
    Yeah, he’d been a regular Casanova.
    He pushed the broom into the ladder compartment again, and hoisted himself halfway into the compartment after it, head and one shoulder wedged in the rectangular opening so he could reach farther.
    Zach’s whistle echoed in the metal box. Luke felt Zach’s elbow in his waist. “Don’t look now, but I think a certain filly is finally curious about the man who has been standing by the corral fence. You patient son of a bitch, she’s coming over to give you a sniff, just like you predicted.”
    Luke backed out of the compartment, cracking his head on the steel edge in his haste.
    Zach was leaning against the engine, one boot on the rear chrome platform that Luke would be sweeping next. Zach shook his head as Luke rubbed his.
    “I just said ‘don’t look now’ and what did you do? Jumped out of there like a kid to get a peek. You’re losing it bad around this woman, Waterson. Don’t look.”
    Luke looked, anyway. Patricia was walking straight toward them, no doubt about it. Her hair was piled a little higher on her head today and her polo shirt was white instead of navy, and God, did she look gorgeous in the sunlight, all that blue sky behind her blond hair.
    Luke took a step toward her. “She’s got my glove.”
    Zach put a hand in his chest. “I wasn’t in a condition yesterday to fully appreciate the view. Now I am. That’s my glove. I’ll get it. You keep sweeping, rookie.”
    He took no more than two steps before Chief Rouhotas appeared from around the side of the engine. The chief was looking in Patricia’s direction even as he stuck his hand out to block Zach. “I’ve got this, Lieutenant Bishop. Back to work.”
    Luke crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Chief Rouhotas walk up to Patricia and greet her with his head bobbing and bowing as if she really were the princess she looked like she was. Patricia nodded graciously. They spoke for a minute, then she offered him her hand. He shook it as if it were an honor.
    The important detail, however, was in Patricia’s other hand. When the chief had greeted her, she’d casually moved her left hand behind her back, keeping the glove out of sight. She could have given it to Rouhotas, of course. She could have asked for it to be returned to Luke—which would have earned Luke another round of hazing, he was certain, for leaving a piece of equipment behind—but she kept it out of sight as she concluded whatever business deal she was making with the chief. No mistake about it, an agreement about something had been reached. Luke recognized a deal-sealing handshake when he saw it.
    He didn’t have to wait long to have that mystery solved. Patricia walked away—without a backwards glance for as long as Luke