“Chief? Got a minute?”
He looks up, amber eyes taking in my post-shower appearance and probably reading something in my expression that suggests this isn’t routine. “What’s up, Ryder?”
“I need to request vacation time. Two weeks, starting tomorrow if possible.”
Brokka’s eyebrows climb toward his hairline. I’ve never asked for more than a single day off, and that was for a medical appointment. “Everything all right? Family emergency?”
“Nothing like that. Someone needs help with animal care over the holidays, and…” I trail off, realizing how this is going to sound.
“And you can’t say no when animals are involved.” It’s not a question. Brokka knows about my volunteer work, even if I don’t advertise it around the station. “Two weeks helping with pets.”
“Specialty animals. Sounds like she’s in over her head.”
Something shifts in Brokka’s expression, and I catch a hint of amusement around his eyes. “She.”
“It’s not like that, Chief.”
“Right.” He pulls out the vacation request forms and slides them across the desk. “Fill these out. You’ve got more accumulated time than anyone on the roster, so it won’t be a problem. Truth is, I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway.” Brokka leans back in his chair. “The district’s looking for lieutenant candidates. You’ve been doing exceptional work, Stone. The kind of leadership I need in my command structure. Interested?”
My breath sticks in my throat. Lieutenant. More responsibility, better pay, advancement. “When would you need an answer?”
“Board meets mid-January. We can talk details when you get back from playing Christmas vet.” He grins. “Just think about it while you’re away.”
My head is spinning. This is something I’ve wanted for years, but chances for advancement don’t open up that often in our firehouse.
”And Ryder?”
“Yeah?”
His mouth twitches. “Do me a favor; don’t rescue anything you have to register with the DMV.”
I sign the forms and hand them back, ignoring his knowing grin. “Thanks, Chief.”
“Don’t mention it. And have a good Christmas, even if you’re spending it shoveling pig shit or whatever the hell specialty animals require.”
Okay, I guess that covers it. Now I’ve got a phone call to make, and see if I even have a job offer.
Chapter Four
Ryder
The mountain road winds like a question mark up the hillside, and my truck handles the steep grade with ease. Pine trees crowd the narrow asphalt, their dense branches weaving a tunnel of green that breaks open into a clearing where the light feels sharper, thinner, almost waiting for snow. I slow as the cabin comes into view—rustic logs with a green metal roof, exactly what I’d pictured when the woman on the phone mentioned that it was Laney’s grandmother’s place.
What I hadn’t pictured was the chaos—or the woman trying to manage it.
She’s standing in the middle of the driveway, hands on her hips, staring up at two goats who’ve somehow gotten onto the roof of a small outbuilding. Even from this distance, I can see thedetermined set of her shoulders, and the way she’s planted her feet like she’s not backing down from this fight.
Chestnut hair escapes from what might have started as a ponytail this morning, catching the afternoon light like burnished bronze. For a moment, the winter sun hits her at just the right angle, and her hair seems to glow like she’s standing in her own personal spotlight—warm, bright, and impossible to look away from. My first thought, unbidden and immediate, is sunshine. Pure sunshine in human form.
She’s smaller than I’d expected—maybe five-four in her work boots—but there’s nothing small about her presence. She moves with quick efficiency, like someone used to handling multiple crises at once.
I park beside a blue pickup that’s seen better days and take a moment to watch her in action. A rooster patrols the yard like a feathered security guard while the woman attempts to coax the goats down with a combination of cajoling and what sounds like bribery.
“Bonnie! Clyde! I have treats!” she calls up to them, waving something in her hand.
The goats look at each other, then at her, then bleat in what sounds like negotiation.
She’s cute. More than cute—there’s something about the way she’s completely focused on problem-solving, the stubborn tilt of her chin, that makes me want to keep watching.
