Chapter One
Twenty-five years later
NOAH CALVARY STRUTTED into the Service County Fire Station under West Virginia egg yolk sunshine on Thursday morning, ready to prop his boots, polished to an obsidian crystal shine, on a new desk.
For him, the elevator of life went in one direction—up.
He operated at one speed, a high-octane sprint across every finish line, which left his opponents in awe.
Winning was threaded through Noah’s DNA, as elemental to his existence as breathing.
Today, he’d earn another gem for his crown, the first firefighter lieutenant to chair the town’s redevelopment committee.
His strategy moved him one step closer to his ultimate goal—the only fire captain in the state’s history to hold the position by age thirty-one.
He’d worked toward the position since his volunteer fire service days as a fifteen-year-old cadet.
“Mornin’, fellas!” He waved to Stroker, Jimmy, and Caleb, the team of firefighters he led daily, a responsibility he shouldered with pride every day that an alarm bell called them into harm’s way.
“Purd-dy boots, Noah,” Jimmy joked, aiming the water nozzle at the rig’s tires while Stroker and Caleb buffed the red door panels to a streak-free glimmer.
“That’s ‘Chairman Noah’ to you.” He grinned, adjusting his Stetson back on his head.
Stroker looked up, raising his middle finger. “Not as long as I draw breath.”
“With your fancy new title and old flame coming home for the wedding, you’re not the least bit nervous?” Jimmy asked, stowing the hose.
Noah’s pulse did a clumsy two-step at the mention of Rachel’s impending return. He forced a grin, toothy and broad. His plan for the one who got away—dazzle her with his dynamic deeds for the town she abandoned. “Nerves are for second-round draft picks. Remember that, boys.”
Noah had known all three men since elementary school.
They’d spent summers swimming in the creek, autumn on the football field, and spring chasing girls around the town pavilion.
Back then, the girl next door held all his attention.
For that kid, Rachel and Service had encompassed his whole world.
“Living the dream,” his father had called life in this small town.
Noah agreed. If life were an oyster, Service was the luminous pearl.
However, like that precious natural beauty, when examined closely, visible pits came into view.
No less beautiful for its imperfections, his rural community, like many across the country, struggled against a destroying trifecta—a shrinking population, job losses, and limited community services.
Noah had a vision for the town he loved—as committee chair, he and the mayor would oversee Service’s long-awaited infrastructure upgrade.
Caleb, being the mature one out of the whole lot of them, muttered, “Told ya both not to say a word. Noah’s inner four-year-old sucks down attention faster than Bubba Baker downs a six-pack on Friday night.”
“Like smoke, I rise,” Noah chuckled. “And leave Baker out of your comparisons. Coach led our football team to state finals every year of high school.” The man had earned Noah’s respect by being a winner and training them to do the same.
“As for Rachel… did she RSVP for sure this time?” he asked with a false casualness, absently checking his reflection in the gleaming side of the fire engine.
Five years had been good to his physique and his hairline. Rachel would notice.
Caleb ribbed Jimmy with an elbow. “Bet you’d like to know.”
Noah snorted. “Just watch her melt when she sees me. She missed out.”
Stroker shook his head at Noah’s antics. “Missed… more like dodged a high-powered hydrant with wavy hair and an ego.”
“Can’t fault a flame for burning bright,” Noah called, shaking off the playful jab and taking the stairs to the administrative office two at a time.
It was Rachel’s loss, but he’d been the one to drift after their breakup.
If Noah traded a penny for his thoughts on the matter, he’d find himself begging for a payday loan, because he never could pinpoint how he’d gone wrong with her.
He knew the where—it had to be the worst senior prom night ever for a Calvary brother.
But the why remained evasive. They’d danced under twinkling lights, her head on his shoulder.
Halfway through the night, he was the prom king who’d lost his queen.
Rachel returned his class ring the next day.
The following month she’d left for college without so much as a goodbye text.
No matter. Given their years apart, he couldn’t be sure he wanted anything from Rachel. Maybe, a chance to prove she’d missed out by leaving. He was respected, successful, and on the verge of making real change in their hometown.
He pushed through the closed door and pulled up short. The blast of air-conditioning wasn’t the only thing that made his arm hair stand on end.
Cheyenne sashayed from behind the information systems console, bouncy red ringlets framing an Instagram model face. Her heels click-clacking against the aged tile, her smile as wide as the net she cast trying to snag his ring finger, which was a big no-can-do in Noah’s dating playbook.
“I waited all night for you to dance with me at the Black Bear, Noah.”
“Now, don’t hold it against me, darling. I tried to fend off the ladies last night. But it takes two to two-step, and I’m a gentleman.”
When she wrapped her toned arms around his neck, Noah stiffened against the weight of the woman’s lithe build.
Public scrutiny of his private life could lead to career fumbles.
A relationship with her—too risky. They’d hooked up a few times before she took the job at the station.
Too late, Noah realized his mistake with the pretty redhead.
Lifting her arms aloft, he lowered Cheyenne’s limbs just right, one finger on the underside of wrist, a gentle brush of his thumb against her alabaster skin.
“Cheyenne, this here is the job. You can’t be huggin’ me. I have to set the example for the guys to follow.”
“What?” she cooed. “You’re not the boss. And… I was hoping we could get together later tonight. You can personally thank me for voting for you to serve on the town council.”
He hadn’t considered her role on the town council would ever impact him. Hindsight burned him with the poor headwork concerning Cheyenne.
“Now, don’t go mixing business and the boardroom,” he crooned. “That could ruin both our reputations.”
She gave him a pout. “I wouldn’t but… It’s been a while since one of our deep conversations.”
Oh boy, she’d learned his metaphor for the horizontal hoedown throw-down. Waking up to a beautiful lady in his bed—nothing compared to it. But he’d choose rushing into fires over running into feelings, every time. Smoke and flames did less damage.
“Now, you know how much I enjoy our long talks,” he whispered.
Because he’d learned between senior year and graduating from the fire academy, if he conversed enough and listened twice as long, he could talk a pretty girl right out of her Daisy Duke shorts.
And he’d done that one too many times with Cheyenne.
But now she had her sights set on more than he planned to offer any woman.
Women who chose to buzz around him knew upfront that he’d provide one helluva mating flight, but in the end, she’d be returning to the hive alone.
“Then when are you going to invite me over to your place? Just the two of us.”
Cheyenne had prepared. He needed to change tactics. Catching him off guard had been a brilliant play. “Now, you know my us mantra.”
“Talking about us leads to a big fuss. I know. I know,” she sighed in disappointment.
That wouldn’t do. Noah had reached expert status in the dating game by keeping his female companions content—full-time friends were better than part-time lovers. He tilted his head back, giving the air a deep whiff. “I smell something good… besides you.”
Cheyenne giggled. “I packed up a dinner picnic. Thick-cut ham. Homemade bread. Potato salad. Ice-cold beer.”
“You know what I like.” Another mistake he’d made. Noah always had an exit strategy when it came to women—keep the game fun, stick the touchdown, always go for the extra point, and make the walk off the field memorable. He was the one who always got away.
“Likely story. We could celebrate your new appointment tonight. I could drive up to your cabin after work. Now that it’s complete, I want to be the first to see it. We can eat all your favorites on that back deck I’ve been hearing so much about.” She blushed, her cheeks warming to a soft rosy glow.
“It’s not official yet. And how could ol’ Noah say yes to you when you know I’ve turned down other offers?” He didn’t lead women on. Other than his mama and Eli’s wife, Amarie, no woman had seen the inside of his home. A move like that would be too close for his comfort.
Cheyenne’s only response was a full pout, reminding him of all the wonderful things she would do after a good conversation.
Two things Noah Calvary understood on instinct: fires and females.
Noah admired the power of both and lived for the challenge, the risk, and the thrill.
One paid his bills, and the other—well, when he stalked onto the dating field, women gushed over him faster than a hydrant under pressure.
He loved to soothe and subdue wild things—a unique ability he applied to lovely creatures like Cheyenne, whom he enjoyed entertaining till their Mr. Right came along.
A man like him, who found a beautiful quality in every woman, needed a strategy to avoid hurt feelings or, worse, papas with double-barreled shotguns.
Noah readied his smile, a counteroffensive to block Cheyenne’s amateur scrimmage.
“But we could—”