How to Tame a Wild Fireman by Jennifer Bernard

work. Mostly, you’ll be dealing with blisters. Now get busy, another crew just hiked in.”
    As she began dismantling the tourniquet, she caught the admiring gazes of Annabella and Romaine.
    “I offered him some shiatsu on the first day we were here and he nearly bit my head off,” whispered Romaine.
    Annabella merely put her palms together and bowed to her. Earning their respect was surprisingly gratifying.
    From then on the Goddesses brought her cookies and water bottles as she worked. A steady stream of injured firefighters limped to her corner of the medical tent. The work was not at all what she’d expected. Very few of the injuries were burns. As Donnell had warned her, the injuries mostly had to do with feet. Blisters were a big one. She spent a lot of time setting firefighters up with bowls to soak their feet in, nearly gagging from the stench as they removed their socks. She saw a few rolled ankles thanks to the rocky terrain they were working in. Dehydration was the other big culprit, causing heat exhaustion and stress. For this she handed out mineral supplements, glucose tablets, and lots of bottles of water. If the case was severe, she called for a Medevac.
    The other big surprise was how much the firefighters stank. Didn’t anyone take showers? Noticing her scrunched nose, Donnell explained that many firefighters were reluctant to shower in a stall where a thousand other filthy guys had already showered. After the fire was out, a lot of them booked a hotel room just to get clean.
    “You’re done,” she told her current patient, though the word “patient” didn’t fit the utter lack of patience with which he watched her work. He was in his late twenties, his face streaked with grime and soot, his muscular body straining to get back into action. He’d cut his thumb on a branch; she swabbed and bandaged it and now he was raring to go. Showing no respect for her careful bandage, he swiped it across his forehead.
    “Hey! I worked hard on that.”
    “Gotta break it in.” He winked at her. “Nice work, Doc.” He bounded out of the chair.
    “I think you should rest a little before you go back out there,” she called, futilely. He waved her off as he reported to the incident commander. “At least hydrate!”
    “You should take your own advice,” said Annabella, who was working the kinks out of an exhausted firefighter’s shoulders a few yards away. “And you should put on sunscreen too. You’re starting to burn. Did you notice that gorgeous fireman who was staring at you?”
    “No.”
    “He had the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Very . . . what’s the word . . . charismatic. Fiery. Fabuloso ass.”
    “Shh.” She glanced around at the bustling scene. “Don’t talk like that here. ­People might get ideas.”
    “I might not mind those ideas. Especially with someone like him.”
    Annabella’s description filtered into her mind. Blue eyes. Charismatic . Of all the ­people she’d known in her life, one boy fit those words perfectly.
    No. It wasn’t possible. Just because she was back in Loveless didn’t mean Patrick Callahan was. And why would the exiled son of the former governor be fighting a wildfire?
    “He was looking at you as if he recognized you.”
    The firefighter she was massaging lifted his head. “I have blue eyes. And women tell me I have a nice ass.”
    “And so you do, querido ,” said Annabella soothingly. “I noticed right away.”
    Lara plunged back into her work, pushing aside the uneasy feeling Annabella had inspired. It would be too weird a coincidence if she and Patrick were both back in Loveless. Both helping out at the same wildfire. At the thought of seeing him again after all this time, a shivery thrill tightened her stomach. Love him or hate him, Patrick wasn’t the kind of guy you ever forgot. Not that she loved him. Or hated him—­too much. No, she was neutral on the subject of Patrick Callahan IV. Totally neutral.
    Patrick and Dan worked like dogs,