Tall Strong and Cool Under Fire Read online

  “I’d like to keep seeing you,” Bryce said.

  Lisa felt her heart hitch. Damn, why did Bryce have to be so direct, so honest? She preferred the word games to facing something right now. Trying her best to remain aloof, she asked, “To what end?”

  The question seemed to amuse him. “Mutual enjoyment. From what I gather, you’re not exactly in the market for marriage, either. And I did enjoy that kiss in your kitchen. So what do you say?”

  Moving back her chair, Lisa tossed her napkin onto her plate. “For now, I say that I have to get back to the shop.”

  “And later?” he pressed.

  “Will be later.” Her tone was noncommittal. The response didn’t feel right to her, and she added, “We’ll see.”

  “Nothing I like better than a challenge,” Bryce responded.

  Lisa bit her lip and remained silent. That was exactly what she was afraid of.

  TALL, STRONG & COOL UNDER FIRE

  Marie Ferrarella

  To all the firefighters in my city, for taking such good care of all of us and making us safe every year.

  Thank you.

  Books by Marie Ferrarella

  Silhouette Romance

  The Gift #588

  Five-Alarm Affair #613

  Heart to Heart #632

  Mother for Hire #686

  Borrowed Baby #730

  Her Special Angel #744

  The Undoing of Justin Starbuck #766

  Man Trouble #815

  The Taming of the Teen #839

  Father Goose #869

  Babies on His Mind #920

  The Right Man #932

  In Her Own Backyard #947

  Her Man Friday #959

  Aunt Connie’s Wedding #984

  †Caution: Baby Ahead #1007

  †Mother on the Wing #1026

  †Baby Times Two #1037

  Father in the Making #1078

  The Women in Joe Sullivan’s Life #1096

  ‡Do You Take This Child? #1145

  The Man Who Would Be Daddy #1175

  Your Baby or Mine? #1216

  **The Baby Came C.O.D. #1264

  Suddenly…Marriage! #1312

  ‡‡One Plus One Makes Marriage #1328

  ‡‡Never Too Late for Love #1351

  The Baby Beneath the Mistletoe #1408

  Tall, Strong & Cool Under Fire #1447

  Silhouette Special Edition

  It Happened One Night #597

  A Girl’s Best Friend #652

  Blessing in Disguise #675

  Someone To Talk To #703

  World’s Greatest Dad #767

  Family Matters #832

  She Got Her Man #843

  Baby in the Middle #892

  Husband: Some Assembly Required #931

  Brooding Angel #963

  ‡Baby’s First Christmas #997

  Christmas Bride #1069

  Wanted: Husband, Will Train #1132

  Wife in the Mail #1217

  Stand-in Mom #1294

  Found: His Perfect Wife #1310

  Silhouette Desire

  ‡Husband: Optional #988

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  *Holding Out for a Hero #496

  *Heroes Great and Small #501

  *Christmas Every Day #538

  Callaghan’s Way #601

  Caitlin’s Guardian Angel #661

  ‡Happy New Year—Baby! #686

  The Amnesiac Bride #787

  Serena McKee’s Back in Town #808

  A Husband Waiting to Happen #842

  Angus’s Lost Lady #853

  This Heart for Hire #919

  ††A Hero for All Seasons #932

  ††A Forever Kind of Hero #943

  ††Hero in the Nick of Time #956

  Silhouette Yours Truly

  ‡The 7lb., 2oz. Valentine

  Let’s Get Mommy Married

  Traci on the Spot

  Mommy and the Policeman Next Door

  **Desperately Seeking Twin…

  The Offer She Couldn’t Refuse

  ∆Fiona and the Sexy Stranger

  ∆Cowboys are for Loving

  ∆Will and the Headstrong Female

  ∆The Law and Ginny Marlow

  ∆A Match for Morgan

  Silhouette Books

  Silhouette Christmas Stories 1992

  “The Night Santa Claus Returned”

  Fortune’s Children

  Forgotten Honeymoon #11

  World’s Most Eligible Bachelors

  ‡Detective Dad

  ‡In the Family Way

  ‡The Baby of the Month Club: Baby Talk

  The Fortunes of Texas

  Expecting…In Texas

  Books by Marie Ferrarella writing as Marie Nicole

  Silhouette Desire

  Tried and True #112

  Buyer Beware #142

  Through Laughter and Tears #161

  Grand Theft: Heart #182

  A Woman of Integrity #197

  Country Blue #224

  Last Year’s Hunk #274

  Foxy Lady #315

  Chocolate Dreams #346

  No Laughing Matter #382

  Silhouette Romance

  Man Undercover #373

  Please Stand By #394

  Mine by Write #411

  Getting Physical #440

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter One

  “Are you a fireman?”

  The high, exuberant voice caught him by surprise, lifting him out of his realm of preoccupation. Turning away from the newly washed fire truck he was facing, Bryce Walker saw her. All three foot one of her. Completely adorable and most assuredly completely out of place.

  The glib response on his lips, reserved for ladies far older than this little blond visitor obviously was, died away unspoken. Instead he smiled at her.

  The little girl, decked out in soft pink coveralls with white daisies scattered throughout the body of the fabric, stood on the threshold of the fire station, obviously accepting the silent invitation the wide-open doorway extended to wayward travelers. She rocked slightly forward on the balls of her feet, her small hands shoved into her pockets like someone intent on doing nothing more with her morning than shooting the breeze. Her eyes watched him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

  “Why yes, I am.”

  Amused, Bryce crossed to her and then got down on one knee in an attempt to lessen the huge difference in their heights. He glanced to either side of the little girl, expecting to see a parent or at least an older sibling hanging back somewhere in the near vicinity.

  But there was no one close by, not even any stragglers coming out of the library located directly to the right of the fire station, or eagerly flowing out of the summer school classes being given at the high school located in the center of the long block.

  His visitor was apparently alone and very obviously fearless.

  On occasion, Bryce gave talks on fire safety at the various local elementary schools located in Bedford, California. The little girl before him looked too young to be attending school. Bryce guessed her to be around four, or perhaps a very small five, though he doubted it. Intelligence shone in her cornflower-blue eyes, opened as wide as the daisies she had on her rompers.

  The way she was regarding him told Bryce she thought of him as her equal in every w
ay but height and opportunity. Her eyes darted past him to the truck that was just behind. “Do they let you drive the truck?”

  He heard the hopeful note in her voice mingled with a touch of hero worship. The appeal of fire trucks had long since crossed the gender line. Bryce bit back a laugh, thinking of Alex. With three years seniority, the firefighter acted as if the truck was his own private property and would sooner walk over hot coals than allow someone else to touch the steering wheel.

  “No, I’m afraid not.”

  The little girl nodded her head in a commiserating manner that seemed far older than her obvious tender years. “Mommy won’t let me drive, either.”

  It seemed to Bryce the perfect opportunity to initiate a reunion between the wayward child and her mother. “And where is Mommy?”

  Leaving him in her wake, the little girl made her way to the fire truck in small, cautious steps, as if the truck wasn’t simply metal and gears, but a living, breathing thing that could be frightened into running off at any second if she wasn’t careful.

  “At home.”

  Bryce had a feeling that his unannounced visitor was going to be a fetching challenge when she got a little older. He wished any man who lost his heart to her luck. They were going to need it.

  Getting up, he followed her slow progress around the vehicle. “And where’s home?”

  Pausing, she looked over her shoulder, her expression momentarily sad, as if she was mourning something that had been lost. “Not Dallas anymore.”

  He’d thought he’d detected a slight twang to her voice. But knowing her origins didn’t exactly help him at the moment. “And why’s that?”

  The sigh she released was enormous. Slowly she made her way around the perimeter of the truck, studying every detail more closely than the fire chief during an impromptu inspection. “We moved.”

  She was too young to be coy, though that would have been the word he would have used had she been a teenager. Bryce began to feel as if he was trapped in a children’s program. “To where?”

  The little girl ran her hand along the front of the truck and he got the distinct impression she was petting it. “Here.”

  Playing along, Bryce looked around, pretending to be mystified at the information. “You live here? In my fire station?”

  He was rewarded with a giggle that was so infectious, he had a hard time not laughing along with her. She turned to look at him, her eyes crinkled with humor. “No, silly. In Bedford.”

  He’d assumed as much, but it was nice to receive confirmation. At least she wasn’t visiting from out of town. It looked as if he just might finally be getting somewhere. “Do you know where in Bedford?”

  She paused, considering his question. “Our house, of course,” she told him as if it were silly to think that there could be any other answer. “Mommy’s and G-mama’s and mine. Mommy said it belongs to all three of us. Equally.” She wrapped her tongue around the last word very slowly, as if careful to get it right.

  Bryce noticed she didn’t mention a father and wondered if that meant that Missing Mommy was divorced, or possibly widowed. Or if she’d never been married in the first place. He doubted if the omission was an oversight. The little girl seemed to have an almost incredible grasp of her situation. He knew adults who were less aware of their surroundings than she appeared to be.

  Following her as she made her way back to the side of the truck, he tried again. “Do you know your address?”

  This time, the expression that met his question was a pint-size composition of frustration. The little girl shook her head. “No. It’s new.”

  She seemed so upset that she couldn’t remember it, Bryce felt it best to gloss over the detail. No sense dwelling on it. If Mommy didn’t show up soon to claim her, he had friends on the police force who could help track her down.

  “Sometimes,” he commented, “new things are hard to remember.” Holding her hand, he helped her up the steps of the fire truck so that she could get a closer look inside the cab. “Do you know your name?”

  She looked at him with just a touch of impatience bringing her small, wheat-colored brows together in a puckered furrow. “Of course I do. My name’s not new. It’s as old as I am.”

  “I see.” He pretended to nod his agreement. “My name is Bryce Walker. What is your name?”

  She tossed her head, sending soft swirls of blond hair bouncing back and forth. “CeCe Billings. I was named after my G-mama. The first part.”

  “The first part,” he repeated, not quite sure that he followed her.

  “Yes. CeCe.” She held her arms out for him to help her down. “Except her name’s really Cecilia. Mine is, too, but Mommy calls me CeCe so she doesn’t mix G-mama and me up.”

  Bryce set her down on the ground again. “I see.” Though it didn’t actually have anything to do with finding her mother or her home, he couldn’t resist gleaning just a little more information about this diminutive blonde chatterbox who had wandered into his station. “And what does your daddy call you?”

  “Nothing,” she told him with a matter-of-fact air worthy of someone five or six times her age. “I don’t have a daddy. Mommy says we’re doing just fine without one.”

  “Uh-huh.” Mommy was obviously rather adamant about the subject, he thought, given the verve he heard in CeCe’s voice. “Well, I don’t think she’s doing just fine right now,” he speculated, more to himself than to the tiny intruder. “She’s probably out looking for you right now.”

  His visitor shook her head with feeling, sending her blond curls flying back and forth again. “I don’t think so. Mommy’s busy.”

  “Doing what?” He had a very low opinion of a mother who was too busy to notice her child was missing. In his mind, he envisioned a woman neglecting her child for any one of a half-dozen reasons, none of which were acceptable.

  Like someone on a deliberate, savored odyssey, CeCe’s inspection of the fire truck was taking her to the rear of the vehicle. “She’s gotta tell all those men what to do. They’re all confused.”

  They weren’t the only ones, Bryce thought. “What men?”

  “The men who are helping her.” She frowned. “You’re not listening. Mommy told G-mama men don’t listen.”

  “Oh, she did, did she?” Mommy obviously didn’t have a very high opinion of men. Which made them equal, because he didn’t have a high opinion of women who misplaced their children.

  But, in the absence of the appearance of a frantic woman searching for her wandering gypsy of a child, he had no recourse but to keep the little girl occupied. On a hunch, he tapped her on the shoulder and when she turned around to look at him, he extended his hand to her. “Would you like a tour of the fire station while we try to figure out how to find your mommy?”

  CeCe took his hand readily, but she cocked her head and looked at him, as if that would help her understand his meaning better. “Why? Mommy’s not lost.”

  He smiled at her. If he had chosen a different path for himself, a child like Cece might have been his by now. But that was all water under a bridge he had crossed over voluntarily a long time ago.

  “No, but you are.”

  “No, I’m not.” The smile that came to her lips was so bright, Bryce found himself instantly charmed and very firmly captivated. How could anyone not notice that a little doll like this was missing? “I’m right here. With you.”

  He found he had a difficult time arguing with that, so he didn’t even try.

  Lisa Billings felt as if she had taken exhaustion to a new high. Or low, depending on the point of view.

  All she knew was that right at this moment, she felt more drained than a riverbed during a prolonged draught. For the last six months she had been flying between her former home in Dallas and the city she had decided to resettle her family in, trying to find the perfect locale for both her store and her new home. A new home where she intended to make a new life for herself and her daughter. The appeal of a fresh start was strong.

  Her re
quirements weren’t many, but they were nonnegotiable. She wanted someplace that was bright and clean and safe, somewhere with a wonderful school system that would benefit a daughter as bright and eager to learn as CeCe was. The hundred and twenty some-odd details that went into making the transition had finally led her to Bedford, which was as near-perfect as she could hope for.

  Looking back, she couldn’t remember a time in the last six months when she hadn’t been busy enough for two people. As busy as she was, she couldn’t spend too much time thinking and that was a blessing. She didn’t like to have too much time to think, or reflect.

  But somehow, amid all that busy-ness that was taking place, she had just about “busied” herself out and lost sight of the most important thing of all. CeCe. CeCe, the reason she had undertaken owning and running a toy store that catered to a child’s fertile imagination and not to noise, chaos and the advertising toy craze of the moment. CeCe, who was, quite simply, the reason she drew breath every day.

  Somehow, amid the rush of movers who were bent on testing the durability of every breakable item she owned and the confusion of getting everything reorganized again, she had misplaced her daughter.

  One minute, CeCe was playing in the new front yard, doing her best not to get underfoot. The next, when Lisa looked back to check on her, CeCe was gone. A quick search of the area told Lisa that her daughter wasn’t in the front yard, or the back. Or anywhere else in the house, either. Tired of exploring it, CeCe had obviously gone on to conquer other areas.

  Lisa tried very hard not to give in to the panic that was swiftly filling all the empty spaces left inside of her. Praying she had somehow missed seeing her, Lisa made another, faster pass through the two-story house, looking behind boxes and any place CeCe might have decided to turn into a temporary play area.

  When this go-round proved to be as fruitless as the first, she hurried out to the front yard again. There she found her mother. Cecilia Dombrowski was directing the movers like one of the field marshals who had existed in her family tree.

  One look at her daughter’s face had Cecilia halting in midcommand. “What is it?”

  Years of taking on too much, of trying to be invincible, had brought Lisa to the brink of collapse and had her tottering there now. She felt herself very close to crumbling and hated herself for having the feeling. “I can’t find her anywhere, Mother. I can’t find CeCe.”