Playing With Fire: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 2) by Susan May Warren Read Free Book Online Page A

ground.
    It still seemed surreal to remember standing there on the shore of Pine Acres, watching from across Evergreen Lake as the nearly hundred-year-old resort was consumed by the forest fire. The blaze overran all twelve cabins, the trees, the swing set, an A-frame house, even the towering pines from which the resort got its name.
    Darek had narrowly missed being burned alive at the neighbor’s house, saving his girlfriend Ivy and her friend Claire. They’d floated to safety under a canoe in Evergreen Lake.
    Conner still felt a little lightheaded when he thought about the destruction.
    Thankfully, it had stopped at the lodge, Jed’s voice in near disbelief as they watched the survival of the stately two-story home glistening wet under the spray of hoses from the lake.
    The fire had come right up to the edge of the property, clawing, hungry.
    And died.
    It also stopped in the field behind Pine Acres, a resort owned by Jensen Atwood, who ingeniously had run a sprinkler system into the green meadow that separated the Acres from the forest.
    Conner didn’t want to guess what it cost Darek to see his family’s history burn. He knew that Darek had made a deliberate choice with Jensen to dig a line across the meadow, sacrificing the resort.
    Responsibility over passion. He’d chosen saving the town, stopping the fire over his family’s legacy.
    Life never came with easy choices. And rarely ended well, something Conner should probably keep in mind as he packed the Jude County buggy outside the fire camp, considering the impulse to head into town and see Liza one more time.
    The three days of mop-up had felt like eternity as Jed pushed the crew to put out any final hot spots.
    Now Jed came up behind him, carrying a box of flares and drip canisters. “I heard that Jock called, assigned you to Idaho to boost the fire down at Seven Devils.”
    A nasty, dangerous wilderness. The Midnight Sun Jumpers from Alaska had even been brought in to fight the fires in mountains that had the most entrapments of any in the country.
    Conner wasn’t thrilled.
    And yeah, before he left, he wanted to make one last trip into town.
    I don’t make promises, but if I can get back into town before I leave, I will, okay?
    He knew he’d probably put a little too much into his eyes when he said that, looking for a smile from her—but he couldn’t stop thinking about Liza.
    Or the way she’d simply stepped up into his charred, raw, darkened heart and shined light through it. Healed it just a little with her words. God’s compassion for you never fails. It’s new every morning, faithful. Like sunrises.
    He wanted to believe that. But when he saw the truth—like a family’s entire livelihood burn to the ground...
    Or his brother, a hero, killed.
    Or most recently, a letter from his grandfather, delivering such news as a rise in his PSA levels. The cancer was back.
    Yeah, Conner could use a little of Liza’s sunshine.
    Graham came up, added tents to a compartment on the side of the buggy. “We’re nearly packed up,” he said. “But Jed said we aren’t leaving until later tonight.”
    Conner cast a glance at Jed, who offered him a slight nod.
    “Pick me up at the VFW on your way out,” he said to Jed and jogged toward a couple of locals pulling out of camp.
    He didn’t think beyond right now. Just hitching a ride.
    You bring me out of my darkness.
    He didn’t know why he’d said that. Maybe because he’d so desperately wanted to kiss her at that moment. Just reach out, touch her perfect, beautiful skin, rub his work-hewn hand against her cheek, lean in, and brush her lips with his.
    Just a taste of all that sweetness, the compassion, the light that was Liza.
    Nearly had, the words just a hint of what he was feeling.
    And then...
    Then he woke up. Realized just how close he’d come to hurting her. And him.
    They had no future, and he didn’t want to give her anything—especially a kiss—that might promise something he couldn’t