“Why are you pushing this?” Ace asked. “You seem to be on a mission. Are you not telling us something?”
“As a matter of fact, there’s a very good reason why I’m so determined to get my brothers married off.” Emma turned to Coop and smiled.
“Are you going to tell us or keep us hanging in suspense?” Dillon asked from his seat on the porch swing, Ariana nestled up against him.
“You want to tell them?” Emma asked Coop.
He smiled and shook his head. “You tell.”
“Someone tell us what’s going on,” Ace said. “I need another beer, and I’m not going in for it until you do.”
Emma blurted, “Coop and I are expecting a baby.”
Her brothers all pushed to their feet at the same time.
“You’re expecting?” Ace asked.
Emma nodded, tears filling her eyes. “We are.”
Ace pulled his sister into his arms. “Congratulations, Sis. We’re happy for you.”
One by one her brothers hugged her.
Dillon and Ariana were last.
“I guess you want some cousins to grow up with your little one,” Dillon said. “That’s why you’re in such a hurry to marry us off…?”
She nodded, her hand going protectively to her flat belly. “I want my baby to know his uncles, aunts and cousins.”
Ariana pulled Emma into her arms. “I’m so happy for you. For us. Our babies are going to grow up together.”
Emma’s eyebrows rose up her forehead. “Our babies?” She looked form Ariana to Dillon and back. “You’re…”
“Expecting, too,” Dillon confirmed, pulling Ariana into his arms. “Which means there’s a wedding going to happen in the very near future. I expect all of you to be there.”
“How?” Emma shook her head. “I know how. When?”
“We just found out. We figure in eight months,” Ariana said. “Guess we’ll be breaking ground on our house soon.”
“A wedding, a new house and babies?” Dillon grinned broadly. “All because of a little software program called BODS.” He shot a narrow-eyed glance at his remaining bachelor brothers. “So, what’s keeping you? Are you afraid of the future?”
“Maybe,” Ace said. “Aren’t you? Have you ever changed a diaper?”
Dillon shook his head. “No, but I’m not afraid to try. It can’t be any harder than cleaning a fish.”
“Sweetheart, we’re going to have to work on your analogies before the baby is born,” Ariana said wryly.
“Which is back to the question,” Emma said. “Who’s brave enough to meet his match?”
When no one responded. Emma held up her hand. “Fine. We’ll draw straws.”
Hellfire, Texas
Hellfire Book #1
Elle James
New York Times Bestselling Author
Chapter 1
The hot July sun beat down on the asphalt road. Shimmering heat waves rose like mirages as Becket Grayson drove the twenty miles home to Coyote Creek Ranch outside of Hellfire, Texas. Wearing only a sweat-damp T-shirt and the fire retardant pants and boots of a firefighter, he couldn’t wait to get home, strip, and dive into the pool. Although he’d have to hose down before he clouded the water with the thick layer of soot covering his body from head to toe.
The Hellfire Volunteer Firefighter Association met the first Saturday of every month for training in firefighting, rescues, and first responder care. Today had been particularly grueling in the late summer swelter. Old Lady Mersen graciously donated her dilapidated barn for structural fire training and rescue.
All thirty volunteers had been on hand to participate. Though hot, the training couldn’t have gone better. Each volunteer got a real taste of how fast an old barn would go up in flames, and just how much time they had to rescue any humans or animals inside. Some had the opportunity to exercise the use of SCBA, self-contained breathing apparatus, the masks and oxygen tanks that allowed them to enter smoke-filled buildings, limiting exposure and damage to their lungs. Other volunteers manned the fire engine and tanker truck, shuttling water from a nearby pond to the portable tank deployed on the ground. They unloaded a total of five tanks onto the barn fire before it was completely extinguished. With only one tanker truck, the shuttle operation slowed their ability to put out the fire, as the blaze rebuilt each time they ran out of water in the holding pool. They needed at least two tanker trucks in operation to keep the water flowing. As small as the Hellfire community was, the first engine and tanker truck would never have happened without generous donations from everyone in the district and a government grant. But, they had an engine that could carry a thousand, and a tanker capable of thirty-five hundred gallons. Forty-five hundred gallons was better than nothing.
Hot, tired, and satisfied with what he’d learned about combating fire without the advantages of a city fire hydrant and unlimited water supply, Becket had learned one thing that day. Firefighting involved a lot more than he’d ever imagined. As the Fire Chief said, all fires were different, just like people were different. Experience taught you the similarities, but you had to expect the unexpected.
Two miles from his turnoff, Becket could almost taste the ice-cold beer waiting in the fridge and feel the cool water of the ranch swimming pool on his skin.
A puff of dark smoke drifted up from a stalled vehicle on the shoulder of the road ahead. The puff grew into a billowing cloud, rising into the air.
Becket slowed as he neared the disabled vehicle.
A black-haired woman stood in the V of the open driver’s door, attempting to push the vehicle off the road. She didn’t need to worry about getting it off the road so much as getting herself away from the smoke and fire before the gas tank ignited and blew the car to pieces.
A hundred yards away from the potential disaster, Becket slammed on his brakes, shifted into park, and jumped out of his truck. “Get away from the car!” he yelled, running toward the idiot woman. “Get away before it explodes!”
The woman shot a brief glance back at him before continuing on her
