Deirdre O'Dare SmokeAndSpots

MOKE

…S

POTS

…Too soon Grady was back, pausing a step into the main room.

For long seconds, they locked eyes, a sizzling arc of awareness
dancing between them. Finally, Grady tore his gaze away.

“You gotta be hungry,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Yeah, I‟m starved.”
They both knew the conversation moved on two levels. Grady took

the plastic tub of chili out of the refrigerator. He almost dropped it as
Sully came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Grady,
pressing close against him so there would be no mistaking the bulge in
Sully‟s abruptly too-tight jeans.

Grady gave a ragged sigh. “Nooo. No, but yeah. I‟m not sure we

oughta do this, bud, but I don‟t think I can help it any more than you
can. It‟s been coming at us like a runaway train from the first day,
hasn‟t it?”

Sully nuzzled against the back of Grady‟s neck. The curling

strands of dark hair tickled his face. Grady smelled of sweat and
smoke, but a hint of his piney aftershave still clung to his skin. All
man, all delicious. Grady strained away from Sully‟s embrace just
long enough to slide the bowl onto the counter before he turned back,
this time bringing them face to face.

“I think this is going to be one hell of a fine train wreck.” The last

word emerged muffled against Sully‟s mouth as their lips met and
ground together, closing the circuit so sparks flew and the heat
ratcheted up to the flashpoint…

LSO

EIRDRE

O‟D

ARE

Armed And Amorous

Beyond The Shadows

The Canine Cupid Series

The Chap In Chaps

Daring Desires

Eres Tu—Times Two

Fire On Ice

Guilty By Innocence

Homeless In Heaven

Jesse’s Girl

Journal Of A Timid Temptress

Muscle Car Man

Runes Of Revelation

Special Delivery

The Thin Green Line

Tom Fleet’s Incredible Machine

Treading Dangerous Ground

The Wild Bunch Series

Wings Of Love

Workin’ On The Railroad

You Were Always On My Mind

SMOKE AND…SPOTS?

DEIRDRE O‟DARE

MBER

UILL

RESS

LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

MOKE

...S

POTS

MBER

UILL

RESS

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author‟s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

ISBN 978-1-61124-236-2

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

This one is for old friends from long ago who were

active in a volunteer fire department on the edge of the Colorado

prairie. I saw firsthand the challenges you faced and shared

a few of them. While progress and population came to that area

and the town now has a modern professional department,

many small towns throughout the west still operate mostly with

volunteers. Those folks deserve endless kudos and many

thanks for the efforts they expend to help neighbors and other rural

residents. This is my small effort to tell it like it is for you.

Once again, my thanks and gratitude to Amber Quill Press

and the team of folks who make it all run as smooth as glass and

almost as transparent to the authors, although I recognize

the work that goes on behind the scenes. You are all consummate

professionals and fight some “fires,” too! Thank you!

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

CHAPTER 1

Valle Vista, CO
Late spring

“Are we there yet?”
Grady Ashcroft glanced across the cab at the speaker, a tow-

headed ten-year-old. He still struggled with the fact he now had a
son. Even though Jamie was really his nephew, his sister‟s sudden
death had left him the boy‟s guardian. With a father who had never
even wanted the child, Jamie had fallen to Grady by default, but he
could not regret the fast decision he‟d made to accept the role.

Although he‟d never thought of himself as father material,

Grady knew he had to rise to the occasion. Part of that rising was a
move from Kansas City to Colorado, leaving behind a job as a

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

senior member of the city fire department to take the post of fire
chief for the tiny village of Valle Vista and the surrounding rural
area, one of only a few paid posts on the mostly volunteer
department.

“About another hour,” he said. “I know it‟s boring, but we‟ll be

there before supper time.”

Jamie gave an eloquent sigh. He knew better now than to say,

“If I was still with Mom…” The first few weeks he‟d lived with
Grady, the phrase had become an almost constant whine. Finally,
Grady had lost patience enough to remind the boy that his Mom
was irrevocably gone, in spite of their desires. And that, without
Grady, Jamie would be either in an orphanage, a foster home, or
possibly with the paternal grandparents who wanted him little
more than his father had. They were cruel but necessary words.
Reality was. There was no way to escape cold, hard facts.

Of course, after his lecture, Grady had gathered the weeping

child into a hug and reassured him as best he could. “You‟re with
me because I want you, because I love you. Your mom was my
baby sister, very special to me and you are, too. We‟ll miss her
forever, but now it‟s just the two of us, and we‟ll be together until
doomsday. You don‟t have to call me Dad, but you can if you want
to. I promise I‟ll be here for you, with you, until you don‟t need me
anymore and even after that.”

Jamie seemed to have gotten it then. No more whining. Maybe

a sense of security began to develop. He might be silent and sullen
at times, but that was to be expected. So much had changed so fast
for both of them. Grady had been on the verge of forming a
partnership with a co-worker who‟d started as a casual friend and
soon become much more, although, when Ed learned Grady was
going to be taking in a child, he‟d hightailed it out of Grady‟s life.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

Maybe Grady had been lucky to learn what the other man was
made of before things went too far, but it still hurt. Chances of
finding someone else who‟d fit into his world now seemed slimmer
than ever.

A lot of people found the idea of hooking up with a firefighter

exciting, until the down side emerged: odd hours, long shifts and
the constant danger and risk. The possibility of being killed or
maimed by hungry flames, collapsing buildings and other hazards
threw a long shadow. Very few wanted to stick around once they
realized those realities. Throw in a child and it seemed to be a
really scary scenario.

He could not blame Jamie, though. The poor kid was the victim

of a tangle of tragedy culminating in the death of his single mother
in an accident caused by a drunk driver. And that had come after
abandonment by a deadbeat dad, who‟d never contributed a dollar
or a hug to his son. Sometimes, life dealt people lousy hands and
just kept doing it.

The big Dodge whined as he downshifted and started the

descent into the valley nestled between two long ridges extending
from the Rockies. The setting sun gilded the higher peaks, still
mantled with snow, peaks that rose to the sky above the highway
and the valley. The scene was beautiful. Even tired and uncertain
of the wisdom of his choices, Grady could see and appreciate the
amazing panorama.

With luck and determination, he‟d make a home here for

himself and Jamie. Somehow, he‟d overcome the dirty baggage
left by his predecessor, who had been summarily fired for a variety
of bad deeds, or so he‟d been told. And maybe… No, he wouldn‟t
think of that at all. Coming out as gay in a small and probably
conservative place like Valle Vista would be tantamount to

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

throwing the rest of his plans into the septic tank. The risk would
be too great. He resigned himself to a celibate life as a single dad
for long years to come.

* * *

Sullivan “Sully” Parker kept an anxious eye on the fire station

all day. It wasn‟t hard. His combined home and business were only
two doors down and across the laughable excuse for a main street
of Valle Vista, Colorado, a small agricultural and tourist haven
community snuggled between two ridges of towering mountains.

Once again he cursed the contrary nature of the region‟s

residents who had readily gone along with his effort to get rid of
the former fire chief. Hell, the man was a liar, a thief and a
drunkard! However, when it came to approving Sully‟s
appointment to the post, the powers that be had balked. So he had
to continue to fix cars, pump gas and operate the only tow truck
within about fifty miles. And be a key volunteer firefighter on the
side.

Why the town council had up and hired some guy from a big

department in the Midwest, he could not guess. How could such a
man fit in or work with a severely limited budget and a department
consisting mainly of volunteers? What would a city man know
about fighting fires in sub-zero temperatures when the truck-
carried water froze almost as it blasted from the hose, when those
trucks might not start, and you had to wear so many layers of
clothes you looked like the Michelin Man? Or in the summer when
lightning-sparked blazes ravaged the steep terrain above the
valley?

Sully had a lot more questions than he had answers. He

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

suspected only time would cover most of them and some maybe
not even then. With a huff of disgust, he went inside the gas station
to answer his phone. Probably some out-of-state doofus broke
down up on one of the old mining or logging roads, expecting me
to come to the rescue. What a great life…

These days, if it wasn‟t for bad luck, seemed he wouldn‟t have

any at all. Because of that call, which turned out to be a sales pitch,
he almost missed seeing the faded blue Dodge pickup pull up in
front of the fire station and discharge two passengers, a man and a
tow-headed kid.

He skidded to a halt as he emerged from the office of his

garage, eyes slewing to the wide drive in front of the fire station
and the truck, one that would fit in on most of the small local
ranches and farms. Lord knew almost no one around here could
afford a new one.

Could it be the new chief? But a man with a kid? He couldn‟t

recall anything in Ashcroft‟s application about a child, but maybe
he‟d missed it. He wasn‟t sure if that put things in a different
perspective or not. Well, whether or not it was the new chief, Sully
figured it fell to the interim one to check matters out. Squaring his
shoulders, he strode off across the street.

Missouri plate on the truck. Too strong a clue to be a

coincidence.

The man must have heard Sully‟s approach. The stranger

turned to look Sully‟s way. He wore a Kansas City Chiefs
sweatshirt and a matching ball cap, pulled low over his eyes. What
little the dimming light revealed of his face looked strong, rough-
hewn and almost movie-star handsome. Eyes seemed very dark, as
did the longish hair below the cap. Of course, a firefighter would
be fit—but the snug sweatshirt and well-worn jeans revealed a

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

lean, ripped physique. Sully‟s gut clenched.

Aw shit, he has to be good-looking and probably my age or

younger. That’s going to make this even harder to deal with.

Sully didn‟t exactly hide his lifestyle and sexual preference, but

he didn‟t advertise it, either. As far as he knew, Valle Vista
currently had only one other gay man in residence. Homer Jenson
was at least sixty-five, claimed to be an artist and had lost his
partner a few months ago. Everyone whispered it must have been
AIDS, and some even hinted the illness was probably God‟s
punishment for a life of depravity, a comment that rubbed Sully
very much the wrong way.

With only a moment‟s hesitation, the stranger stuck out his

hand. “Howdy. I‟m Grady Ashcroft.” His eyes met Sully‟s for a
moment and then he looked down at the little boy, something in his
expression that caused another sharp twist in Sully‟s gut. “And this
is my son, Ja—er—Jim.”

The child, blue eyes wide and guileless, grinned. “You

remembered,” he said as he flicked a swift look at his dad.
“Thanks.” Then he shifted his attention to Sully and offered a
small hand along with a bright smile, dominated by teeth too large
for his narrow face. “Do you have any kids?”

Sully accepted the boy‟s shake, then lifted his hand to meet

Ashcroft‟s firm handshake, but felt no excess pressure. A trickle of
warmth made its way from his palm to his upper arm, shoulder and
settled somewhere inside. “Sullivan Parker. Folks around here call
me Sully.” He turned his attention back to the boy. “And no, I
don‟t have kids. Sorry.”

An instant later, he found the way to reverse the boy‟s

crestfallen look. “But I do have something for you. How does a
Dalmatian puppy sound? Every boy needs a dog.”

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

Young Jim beamed before casting an anxious look up at his

father. Ashcroft‟s expression was a study, almost making the
moment Sully‟s triumph.

“Somebody gave it to the former chief,” he continued. “He

didn‟t take Spots when he left, so I‟ve been keeping the pup. Damn
dog‟s in that chewing stage, gnaws on everything, but now he‟s all
yours.” Seeing Grady‟s frown, he backtracked fast. “Oh, I‟m sure
he‟ll outgrow this quirk and be a great dog. Just needs some time
and training, you know.”

He fumbled a heavy ring of keys off his belt and handed it to

Ashcroft. “These go to just about everything here. The mobile in
back of the station‟s vacant—the last chief chose not to live in it,
but you‟re welcome to, at least for a while. Nothing fancy, but it‟s
livable. The rest are for the station and the vehicles, the lock on the
fuel tank and gates to some ponds where we draft water at times.
I‟ll come back tomorrow and walk you through everything. I
expect you need to get some chow and bedtime this evening.”

Ashcroft took the ring and jingled it for a moment. “Yeah,

we‟re a little road-weary, J-Jim and me. Been a long trip. We‟ve
got some household goods coming in a day or two—shipped stuff
in one of those containers. But we‟ve got bedrolls and a few
essentials in the truck. Where‟s a good place to get some supper?”

Sully shrugged. “Not a lot of choices. The Grub Box, three

doors down, is about the closest and probably the best. Dorothy
runs a good little joint and she‟s a great cook. Oh yeah, I‟ll bring
Spots over when I come tomorrow. There‟s a fenced yard around
part of the mobile where you can keep him.”

With that, he turned away, wanting to say more and yet

reluctant to give in to the niggling urge to try to make the new man
welcome, even to be friendly and nice. Maybe even more than

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

nice; he‟d felt a strong tug of attraction in those few moments.

Not good, not good at all.
Hell, Ashcroft was taking the job that should have been Sully‟s

and dragging a kid along, too. He‟d had to bite his tongue to keep
from asking about the boy‟s mother—maybe they‟d split up. Lots
of women could not handle the firefighter‟s lifestyle. But how
come he had the kid? The boy looked young enough to be with his
mother for a while longer.

Still too fuckin’ many questions, including a raft of new ones.

But be cool, ole bud, you need to mind your own business.

* * *

Grady watched the other man walk away, not sure what to

think. He‟d sensed both hostility and warmth, a welcome that
seemed almost reluctant or struggling to emerge. Strange guy.
Wonder what his issue is? Probably come out soon. He turned to
Jamie. “Hungry, buddy?”

Jamie nodded, although his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

“Wow, a puppy. That‟s awesome. Will you let me keep him?”

“We‟ll see. You‟ll have to feed and spend time with him, help

train him to be a good dog. Mr. Parker said he chews on stuff.
We‟ll need to get him some toys to chew and make sure he doesn‟t
get stuff he shouldn‟t. A pup can be a lot of work, even cleaning up
the poop. You sure you want to go there?”

After making a brief yuck face, Jamie nodded again. “Oh yeah.

I always wanted a dog, but where Mom and I lived, I could only
have something like a gerbil. They‟re kinda dull.”

Grady had to agree with that. He wasn‟t big on rats and other

rodent-type critters either. Dogs? Well, maybe. He‟d have to see

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

what this pup was like.

With Jamie tagging behind, he walked around the fire station.

He‟d save most of the keys for later. The mobile, as Parker had
said, wasn‟t much. Single-wide, maybe forty feet long, but it
seemed weather tight and when they went in, everything looked
clean and tidy. There were two small bedrooms, a bath, and a big
room that was kitchen, dining and living room rolled into one. The
sparse and well-worn furniture looked like Good Will Modern, but
it would do.

Parker had not mentioned rent, but it shouldn‟t be high. Maybe

the place even came with the job. That would be a big plus because
he‟d taken a substantial pay cut to relocate here. He‟d also soon
found two could not live as cheaply as one. Jamie had already
outgrown most of his clothes and kids‟ stuff cost about as much as
comparable adult garments.

Time enough to sort that out later. They lugged in the sleeping

bags and their suitcases and then walked down the street to the
café, where a garish, old-fashioned neon sign proclaimed, Dot‟s
Grub Box. Good eats, fair price. Neither Parker‟s assessment nor
the sign lied. Jamie got the chicken-fried steak, and Grady tried the
chili-size burger with sides of fries and slaw. It turned out to be a
half-pounder smothered in green chili sauce, spicy but delicious.
The bill came to nine-ninety-eight. He left a generous tip for the
teenaged waitress.

As they strolled back to the fire station, Grady recognized the

novel feeling sweeping over him was contentment. It felt strange,
like a brand new pair of boots, but also good, real good. This might
be a smart move after all.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

CHAPTER 2

Before the first week was over, Grady‟d revised that notion

back and forth a dozen times. New concerns and challenges
emerged at every turn. He found the budget pathetic. For a start,
two trucks badly needed work, as did the fire station itself. In KC,
the building would likely be condemned, and the chief would junk
the trucks. He‟d have to do a lot of things on the cheap and quickly
to keep the department functional. Apparently, the former chief
had pocketed funds earmarked for maintenance and repair, the son
of a bitch. The upcoming meeting with the town council might
help, but after hearing more about the community, he knew he
could not count on much. Much was simply not to be had.

The volunteer firefighters proved to be a very mixed bag—

some cheerful and welcoming; others indifferent to downright

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

hostile. There were a dozen young to middle-aged men, several of
whom worked in the county seat forty miles away. During their
work hours, his crew consisted of four women and a couple of old
geezers he knew he‟d worry about at a fire scene.

A dispatcher, paid for by the county, occupied a cubicle in one

corner of the station eight hours a day. Nights and weekends,
Grady had to rely on radios. He had a base station in the mobile
and carried a portable Plectron wherever he went. At least Sandy
Johnson, the county-paid dispatcher, seemed to know her stuff and
keep an open mind where Grady was involved.

Another plus, she lived less than a block away and told him

she‟d answer off-hours calls, coming in nights or holidays to relay
information for them—gratis.

Then there was Sully Parker. Grady alternately blessed and

cursed the burly, rusty-haired garage owner who clearly considered
himself the “real” head of the department. That explained the
hostility. He‟d expected to get the job. Sully had a habit of
springing tidbits of surprises, most of them revealing new or
further problems, with ill-concealed glee. Grady could almost hear
him adding, “And what do you plan to do about this one, Mr. City
Big Shot?” Yet Sully also shared a lot of valuable knowledge of
the area and insights on matters Grady recognized could make or
break his own tenure here. The other man seemed very
conflicted—or he had a split personality.

Grady had to admit to himself that in another place and time

he‟d be strongly tempted to make a move on Sully. There was a lot
about the guy to like, and Grady sensed he was as different from
Ed Sanders as day from night. Looking back, he saw Ed for what
he was—a user and a shallow, selfish person. He‟d already seen
enough of Sully to recognize the deep, caring nature the other man

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

tried to hide.

For once, luck smiled on Grady because there were no fires the

first week. The weather had warmed to the point desperate
attempts to stay warm did not include a dozen layers, while the
grass and brush were still damp enough from winter snow they
didn‟t readily ignite. He realized soon there would be no “days off”
for him unless he either took a vacation or had business out of
town. He was on call twenty-four-seven. This meant he had both
more and less time to devote to Jamie than he had before.

School took care of about thirty hours a week, but the rest of

the time, Jamie became his shadow with a wiggly, black spotted
bundle of canine terrorism as the caboose of their train. As he did
with Sully, Grady swung from thankful to furious about the pup.

Jamie had taken to calling it Lotsa-Spotsa or Lots for short. The

lanky critter was a born clown. He‟d have you mad enough to kill
him and then pull some silly trick that had you laughing your ass
off until you forgot your wrath.

Grady‟s new mantra became I will not kick that damn dog into

the next county. I will count to fifty before I let loose the barrage
of cuss words I‟m thinking. I gotta set a good example for Jamie
and stay cool. I will, I must…

* * *

Sheer cacophony jerked Grady out of a deep sleep. His radio

squawked, his beeper chirped like an anxious baby bird and the
siren over the fire station‟s front doors blared out over the village.
Operating on auto-pilot from long years‟ habit, he jumped out of
bed and scrambled into his clothes. Next stop would be the
station‟s back door. Inside, he‟d grab his turnouts and then start the

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

main truck while he waited for the first of his crew to arrive.

Sandy and Sully jogged in together. For an instant, Grady

wondered if they were a couple, but so far he hadn‟t heard even a
whisper of gossip to that effect. Still, small towns tended to be
close-mouthed and protective of their own to outsiders, even while
hot tidbits spread fast among the regulars.

“Jamie‟s still asleep,” Grady said to Sandy. “I thought about

getting him up and bringing him over here, but he should be okay.”

“I‟ll watch for him,” she assured him. “I‟m sure this is the first

place he‟ll come if he wakes up and realizes you aren‟t there.
We‟re getting to be pals.”

“I‟ll drive,” Sully volunteered. “I know right where this fire‟s

at; get there faster than trying to tell you where to turn.”

Grady nodded and trotted around to the passenger side. They

roared off down the road, lights flashing. Sully blasted the siren
briefly at the first intersection, although at two o‟clock on a
Thursday morning, traffic was light to none. They had not gone
much farther when Grady saw the glow and, as they topped a
ridge, he could see the fire—by appearances, a big one.

“Shit, it‟s the barn,” Sully mumbled. “Hope to God they got the

horses out. It‟d kill Kate to lose one.”

Behind them, Grady could see the flashing lights of the second

truck. They usually took at least two so one could go pull more
water from the nearest well or stock tank while the other pumped.
There were no hydrants out here away from the few sparse blocks
of town. Residences could be a quarter mile or more apart, most
with their own wells. Some had a ready spigot, but many did not.

In the back of Grady‟s mind, he had to admit he had a lot of

new tricks to learn. He even appreciated Sully‟s experience. Of
course, the other man resented him, a stranger with a completely

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

different background, coming in to take over. To be honest, the
fact Sully cooperated at all surprised him. He had to like the rusty-
haired mechanic, despite his periodic fits of grump and sarcasm.
He fought against the urge to more-than-like all the time now.

Driving under a western style sign reading Hollister Quarter

Horses, they screeched into the farmyard and drove straight to the
barn. A man and a woman in nightclothes were squirting the blaze
with a garden hose, to little avail. Glancing around, Grady saw
several horses tethered to a couple of trees and a fence.

“Did you get them all out?” Sully yelled, as he started the

gasoline-powered pump and then began to reel out hose.

“Yeah, thank gosh. Beauty alerted us something was wrong.

Smart dog. We ran out and got the horses before the place was
fully engulfed, but the hay‟s a total loss.”

The woman who answered dropped the hose and swiped a hand

across her face, already soot streaked and marked by the tracks of
tears. She knelt and put an arm around the black-and-white dog,
sitting close by. The man walked back to turn off the tap and then
returned to pull her to her feet and put an arm around her,
murmuring something Grady could not hear.

Sully had already set the pump to full power. Grady helped him

steady the bucking hose to shoot a strong blast of water into the
highest flames. Leaping a good twenty feet into the air, they were
erupting from the roof, probably above the hay the woman had
mentioned.

Soon Tom Grassley and Henry Smoot pulled in with the second

truck. A couple more volunteers followed in their own pickups.

It didn‟t take long to run through the tank full of water. “I‟ll go

fill ‟er up,” Mike Davis, one of the men in the first pickup, said.
“You guys go ahead with the second truck. I know where the water

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tank is here.”

Grady nodded, attention focused on the fire. Tom already had

the second hose going, so they put that pump on high and kept
soaking the barn. Just then the woman jerked away from her
husband and ran toward the open double doors. “The tack and the
trophy—we‟ve got to try to get them out.”

“Stop her,” the man hollered, starting after her, although she

had several yards‟ start on him.

Sully and Grady both let go of the hose at the same instant.

Henry and Tom staggered, taking the full force, and almost lost
control. The three-inch hose whipped around like an angry snake.

“I‟ll get her,” Sully fairly snarled. “You’re the fucking chief.

Stay here and keep things going.”

Grady started to yell back, then caught himself. Sully was right

on both counts. He might even be familiar with the interior of the
barn and know where to go to catch the lady before she succumbed
to smoke or worse.

Mike returned with the second truck, and they shot more water

into the fire. Grady could see they were starting to cool and wet it
down enough to slow the blaze. There would not be much left of
the barn, but no other structures would be damaged. Now the big
question was, how did the fire start? Anyone with livestock and
feed should know enough to be careful with flammables and,
perish the thought, never light a cigarette or anything with gas or
oil flames near hay.

A chill settled into his gut. What if it was arson, perhaps even

set by the farm owners? He‟d heard rumors their business was not
going well. Maybe they hoped to collect insurance. Although arson
investigation was not his specialty, he‟d had some training. He‟d
have to look into the cause as soon as they got the fire out.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

All at once, he realized Sully had been in the barn way too

long. The structure could collapse at any moment, and he had no
way to know what things were like inside. It seemed the upper
story was the most involved in the fire, but burning hay could fall
down from the loft and the fire might even have started in the
lower level. Panic clenched a cold fist inside him. The idea of
losing a man scared him spitless. He‟d only gone through that once
in his prior career, but once was more than enough.

He shoved his grip on the hose at another volunteer who‟d

arrived a few minutes late. “Here, give the others a hand. I‟ve got
to find Sully.” He ran for the barn as soon as the man‟s hands
clutched the hose.

The owner lurked at the doorway, clearly hesitant to enter the

dim and smoky space, but also desperate about his wife‟s safety.

“Stand back. I‟ll go get them,” Grady told him. “Don‟t try to go

in. It‟s way too dangerous for you, but I know how to do this. I‟ll
do my damnedest to get her out and my fireman as well.”

Just then, a darker shadow appeared against the dim glow of

flame through smoke. Sully emerged, the woman slung over his
right shoulder and an odd-shaped glittering object clutched in his
other hand. He stumbled as he hit the doorsill. The man reached for
his wife as Grady grabbed Sully‟s arm.

“Are you crazy, man? What took you so long? Let me get you

over to the brush truck and get some oxygen going for you. How‟s
the lady?”

Sully coughed before he could croak a reply. “One by one,

Chief. Hard to see in there, even though I knew the tack room was
at the southeast corner. She‟s got some spot burns I expect from
stuff falling from the loft, but mostly the smoke got to her. Almost
got to me, too.” He coughed again. “Give her the oxygen first and

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call for an evac.”

Grady didn‟t bridle at the orders, whether they were

appropriate or not. He could see the woman was unconscious. Her
husband wept and swore, cradling her in his arms. “Damn fool
woman! A stupid trophy isn‟t worth risking your life for, baby. Oh
fuck, don‟t go and die on me.”

Once Grady saw Sully stagger off in the direction of the small

grass and brush fire truck, which also carried their medical and
rescue gear, Grady caught the owner‟s arm. “Let me take her.
We‟ve got oxygen for situations like this.” He eased the woman‟s
limp body from the man‟s grip. “We‟ve called in the chopper out
of Boca Cañon to evac her and we‟ll keep her going until they
arrive. Oxygen will help unless she‟s got internal burns from the
smoke.”

The man scrubbed at his eyes, smearing soot across his face. “I

tried to stop her. I told her it was dumb. I-I didn‟t do enough. Oh
God, please don‟t let her die.”

When Grady reached the truck, he saw Sully sitting on the

bumper, an oxygen mask over his face. A second mask waited,
both attached to the same tank. There should be enough to supply
two at a medium setting for at least half an hour. Grady turned to
one of the other firefighters standing by, watching Sully. “Did
someone call for a med evac? Not sure how bad the lady is, but it‟s
clear she needs medical care.”

“Done,” the woman said, dwarfed by her turnouts, although

they were the smallest available. From experience at a couple of
drills, Grady knew Judy Diaz could hold her own, despite her size.
She was one tough little gal, as well as steady and sensible.

In the brighter lights from the arc of department vehicles, he

could see charred spots on Mrs. Hollister‟s jacket and holes in her

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sweat pants where coals had burned through the fabric. It was
damn lucky her clothes had not actually caught fire. He slapped the
mask in place over her nose and mouth and fiddled with the tank‟s
controls to start the life-sustaining flow. By God, he‟d rave at the
town council until they coughed up enough for a bigger and better
concentrating machine. Any member of his crew could suffer from
smoke inhalation, and he wasn‟t going to see anyone die from lack
of this essential gear.

With steadier movements, Sully jerked the mask of his face.

“I‟m good,” he rasped. “Save it for her. She don‟t look good at
all.”

He stood steadily enough and reached to turn off the

connection for the hose to the mask he‟d removed. Then he
wheeled around to start toward the main truck, which still pumped
out water. At the same instant, a sudden crash shook them. Sparks
flew as the barn folded in on itself. For a short time the fire leaped.
However soon it subsided, much of its fuel clearly gone, while the
rest of the ruined building was now saturated and cooling.

“Sit down and give yourself a break.” Grady roared out the

order. “Things are under control and you fucking well aren‟t going
to risk more strain right now. That‟s an order, in case I didn‟t make
it clear.”

Sully stopped, looking back with a poisonous glare. “I know

my limits. I‟m not going to endanger anyone. Leave me be.”

Although most of Grady‟s attention focused on the unconscious

woman, he glanced up at Sully. “I said sit. Do it, or I‟ll write you
up for insubordination.”

Sully managed a raspy laugh. “Do I look like I care? You can‟t

fire volunteers, big shot. If you keep hassling me, I might just
quit.”

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

Grady was saved from a reply that might have made matters

worse by the distinctive whaps of the approaching helicopter. He
left the woman in the care of another firefighter as he grabbed a
flashlight and went to direct the chopper to a clear landing.

The EMTs lost no time bundling up the victim and getting her

aboard. Grady thought about sending Sully with them, but when he
looked around, the other man had disappeared. The chopper had
lifted clear and headed away before Grady found his second-in-
command in the cab of the truck they‟d brought to the scene. Sully
leaned on the steering wheel, resting his elbows in its lower curve
and holding his bowed head in both hands. His helmet lay in the
passenger seat. By all appearances, he was totally done in.
Breathing smoke could do that to a person.

Grady gulped. The surge of sympathy and concern sweeping

over him took him by surprise. It felt like more than the normal
worry he should have for a member of his team. He‟d always
treated the firefighters under him like brothers and sisters, but he‟d
also maintained an insulating distance and never let any of them
inside his protective shell. That was way too risky. He damn sure
wasn‟t going to do it here!

Sully made him mad as hell, although some sixth sense insisted

the often-belligerent mechanic was a good man, someone he could
trust and count on. Did he dare accept that intuitive assessment?
Maybe now was a time to test it. Under the moment‟s pressure, he
forgot the other side of his feelings about Sully, the risky,
incendiary tingle of attraction. Without giving himself time to
analyze his motives, he reached through the open window and put
his hand on Sully‟s shoulder.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

CHAPTER 3

At the unexpected touch, Sully jumped. He didn‟t think he‟d

fallen asleep, but then again… When Grady‟s voice came, low and
a bit rougher than usual, he recognized the hand still resting on his
shoulder.

“Hey, bud, you okay? I‟ll run you back to town before I come

back to start tryin‟ to find out the cause of this blaze. You really
need to be checked out for smoke inhalation—you know how nasty
it can be, even clean smoke from hay and construction wood.”

“I‟m okay. Back off. I‟m not your fuckin‟ kid or something.”

Hearing the harsh growl in his tone after the words came out, Sully
cringed. Shit, the guy’s just trying to be decent. No need to take his
head off. But he’s buggin’ me here, too fucking nice or something.
Too close, too much like a lo— Shit, no way!

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“I‟m okay,” he repeated, this time in a milder voice. “Tired,

sure but nothing more serious. I know what to watch for. If I still
feel a little off after a few hours of sleep, I‟ll go to the clinic
tomorrow before I open the garage.”

“I‟m driving back anyway,” Grady said. “Scoot over or get

down and go around.”

Sully grunted, straightened and slid across the worn bench seat

to the far side. He knew when it was time to give in, perhaps with a
touch of ill grace, but just do it. The five-mile drive back to town
seemed to take a long time, what with both of them stiff and silent.
A strange tension sizzled in the air between them. They both
stubbornly continued to ignore that particular elephant in the
parlor.

Before they got back to town, Sully had almost dozed off.

Grady pulled up in from of the garage. “You‟re not on call the rest
of the day. Turn your damn radio off.” He issued the order in a
harsh, terse tone.

“Whatever you say, boss.” Sensing the genuine concern in the

command and too tired to snap back, Sully slid out, struggling to
keep his step firm and steady as he walked in front of the fire truck
and headed for his Spartan quarters in back of the garage. Yeah, he
was feeling kind of rocky, but nothing a few hours of sleep
wouldn‟t fix. He wasn‟t coughing now, wasn‟t struggling for
breath—at least not much, and wasn‟t noting any confusion or
abnormal mental processes.

I‟m fine, he told himself. Most of the time I crouched down

under the heaviest smoke in that damn barn. Fool woman; what in
hell was she thinking? But she treasured that particular trophy, the
first her horses had brought home. He recalled her shy brags about
the win at a recent show.

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He‟d known Kate and Hank Hollister ever since they bought

the run-down farm south of town and fixed it up, then started
raising and training Quarter Horses. The last few years, with the
economy in the septic tank, he knew they‟d had a tough time.
Although he was not into women, he‟d become friends with Kate
starting from the first time she brought her heavy-duty pickup in
for him to service. She was a real nice lady.

Then an awful thought occurred. He knew the enterprise was

Kate‟s baby, while Hank just tolerated it, continuing to work
another job and leave most of the farm stuff to her. What if he‟d
gotten tired of the financial drain and figured he could get rid of
the problem and maybe recoup some of the losses through
insurance?

The only arson investigator he knew of worked for the sheriff‟s

department and lived nearly fifty miles away. Sully had no idea
what background Grady had in that special area. He hoped nothing
suspicious would show up. The loss was going to hit Kate hard
anyway, although at least she‟d saved her horses. Later today he‟d
have to call and see how she was doing.

He flopped onto his bed half-dressed and dragged a blanket

over himself before sleep claimed him, despite the sudden worries.

* * *

Grady wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed, but

dawn was already brightening the sky to the east. He knew he had
to go back and look for the fire‟s starting point and cause before
anything might hide or modify any tell-tale signs. He found Jamie,
still in his jammies, sitting in the little dispatch cube with Sandy.

“You should‟ve woke me up, Dad.”

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It still gave him a jolt to hear that “D” word, but it was a nice

jolt. He reached out and tousled Jamie‟s fine, blond hair. “No,
sport. When you slept through the sirens, I figured you needed
your rest more than an adventure. And you wouldn‟t have wanted
to stay here, would you?”

Jamie grinned. “Wel-l-l-l, not really but it‟s fun to hear some of

Sandy‟s stories. She‟s got some really good ones and she swears
they‟re true.”

Grady turned to the dispatcher. “I hate to impose, but can you

take care of Jamie a little longer?” Sandy nodded her assent. “I
need to go back and do a preliminary investigation,” he continued.
“It‟s a school day, though, so as soon as he heads to the bus stop,
you go on home and get some rest.”

“No problem. I‟m wide awake now. Shoot, I‟ve drunk enough

coffee to float a rowboat, if not a battle ship. Couldn‟t sleep until
the caffeine high wears off anyway. Jim and I are good buds. I‟ll
make sure he gets off to school okay.”

Assured everything was under control in that matter, Grady

traded the fire truck for his pickup and headed back out to the
Hollister farm. He expected no one would be there since Hollister
had roared out in an SUV heading for the hospital as soon as the
helicopter had lifted off.

Kate Hollister‟s situation had seemed well beyond the capacity

of the clinic in Valle Vista, run by a military vet who‟d been a
medic and then earned nurse practitioner credentials. Arch Travis
ably took care of many minor problems, but didn‟t have the
specialized equipment to treat serious burns or smoke inhalation.
Grady knew better than to risk the life of anyone who‟d suffered
the potential damage she had.

Still the local facility was better than nothing and it relieved

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

Grady to know at least routine medical care was near for Jamie.
He‟d been trained in first aid himself, as many firefighters were,
but when it came to treating family, he knew enough to leave the
matter to others whenever possible.

The distance to the farm seemed shorter by daylight and in a

vehicle less cumbersome than the massive tanker. When he drove
in, no one seemed to be around. The horses still stood, tied where
they‟d been left.

Shit, I’d better try to get someone out here to take care of them;

someone who knows what to do since I sure don’t. The closest I’ve
been to horses was seeing them jog by in parades!

After he called Sandy, who assured him she‟d get someone out

there shortly, he began a slow tour of the ruined barn. A few faint
wisps of smoke still trailed up from the blackened jumble, but the
fire was out. The huge structure had been reduced to a tangle of
half-burned wood and twisted metal roofing. There hadn‟t been
many windows, but all that was left of them was scattered globs of
melted glass. In all, it was an ugly sight.

He almost missed the subtle hints revealing where the blaze

began. They were in the far back corner, the area he deduced had
held a tack room and maybe an office, but not too close to the
stalls housing the horses. It could have been bad wiring or a
malfunction in some equipment left running, but some hunch told
him neither was the cause.

He looked closer and then he found it—a thin line of charred

ground running about two yards to reach what had been the barn‟s
back wall, a line originating in a rough circle about a foot in
diameter, also charred…

Fuck, I knew it. This fire was set. Now I’ve got to call the

county and get an expert out here. Hope to God it wasn’t the

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

owners. Somehow I can’t feature the lady doing this because she
seemed totally wrapped up in the horse thing, but people can fool
you.

With a heavy heart, he put the call through to the county seat,

some forty miles southeast in Boca Cañon, where the valley
widened onto the prairie. His contact told him the arson man would
be out no later than noon. He waited, dozing in his truck until the
county fire marshal arrived.

For a moment, he wondered about Sully. The other man was

stubborn, but he didn‟t seem to be a fool. Grady hoped he‟d have
enough sense to get medical treatment if he needed it. Still, he‟d
better check on his second-in-command later today, just to be sure.

* * *

After the Hollister fire, Grady and Sully reached an uneasy

truce—no more sniping from Sully, while Grady tried to tone
down his habit of emphasizing he was the one in charge. The other
unknown factor in the equation simmered under their every
contact, but they each worked to hold that down to a manageable
level. Now and then, a glance held a strange sizzle and they both
avoided touching by unspoken agreement.

All too soon, school let out for the summer. That meant Jamie

would be there full time, with Lots, who‟d become the kid‟s
inseparable shadow.

Grady didn‟t mind—too much—so long as he was working

around the station. Since his father had been in the construction
business, Grady was a fair rough carpenter so he took on the job of
fixing up the station itself. That left vehicles. He managed to buy
the necessary parts but almost blessed Sully when the garage

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

owner volunteered to do the necessary work on the trucks. Jamie
had taken to hanging out across the street some, too. When Grady
offered to make the garage off limits, Sully shook his head.

“No, don‟t do that. The kid‟s starting to be helpful. He‟s taken

to mechanic work real well and already can fetch the right tool for
me a good part of the time. Kinda nice when I‟m under one of
those rigs not to have to get out and do that myself. Sometimes the
damned pup gets underfoot, but with a stakeout line, we can keep
him safely out of the way. Don‟t ground Jim. I figure he‟s kind of
lonesome and bored. He told me about his mother. I can
sympathize. Mine ran off when I was about that age.”

Of course, Jamie would talk, especially to someone he admired

who offered an ear. Dads could only do so much. Grady sighed,
shaking his head. Right then, he almost wished he could find a nice
woman and get married just for Jamie, but he knew he couldn‟t do
that. It would be unfair to the woman because all he could give her
would be financial support and friendship. Besides, single ladies
around Valle Vista were few and far between. Those he‟d met
didn‟t seem good candidates for motherhood anyway.

One thing surprised Grady as summer arrived. Despite the

fierce cold in the long winter months, it could get damned hot.
Although the trailer did not have a cooler, with fans and opening
every window in the place, he could usually sleep. It didn‟t seem to
bother Jamie, though, or the pup.

Sweat trickled down Grady‟s face and torso as he inched along

the roof, sliding in new shingles to replace those that had blow off
or been damaged by the blizzards and wind. He peeled off his T-
shirt and hung it on one corner of the extension ladder before he
hefted another pack of shingles and crossed over the top to work
on the far side. He looked down into the yard around the trailer and

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

watched Jamie and Lots for a minute.

Lots had started learning to fetch. Jamie would toss him a

Frisbee, and the dog would run madly to grab it, finally bringing it
back so Jamie could throw it again. Sometimes the dog would
bark, a high-pitched yap of enthusiasm. He sat now at Jamie‟s feel
and dropped the well-chewed Frisbee. Jamie laughed, reached into
the pocket of his ragged cut off jeans and slipped Lots a couple of
little treats. Grady started to yell at him for that—he‟d declared no
between-meal snacks for the dog—but then he stopped. Treats
were supposed to be a training aid. Jamie watched the video on
dog training nearly every day and worked with his pet with an
intensity that had taken Grady by surprise.

Sully had said every boy needed a dog. It looked like he was

right. Jamie seemed to be thriving and adjusting very well to his
new home and circumstances. Once or twice a week he would go
spend a half-day with a friend he‟d made at school or the other boy
would come over for a similar play date, but mostly Jamie seemed
happy to spend time with Lots, listen to a few of Sandy‟s stories or
help Sully at the garage. He‟d managed to locate one woman who
did child care in the village, but Jamie hated to go there since most
of the other kids were pre-schoolers. Thus Grady only used Tot
Territory as a last resort. Seemed working moms in Valle Vista
were few and far between.

Grady wiggled his shoulders, feeling the tingle of a beginning

sunburn across his back, although he wasn‟t quite ready to put on
his shirt again. Life was pretty good. The satisfaction he felt over
all he had accomplished so far made up for any lacks he might also
feel.

For a moment, he let his thoughts drift back to the barn fire.

The county man had agreed it was arson and did some in-depth

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

investigation. The latest word cleared the Hollisters because the
arson investigator had found a cluster of cigarette butts in a
sheltered spot on a nearby hill—one that offered a clear view of the
barn. He also mentioned he‟d found what appeared to be semen,
but the test results were not back yet. Typical firebug evidence,
he‟d explained. Grady had recognized that at once, but simply
agreed. He wasn‟t going to try to rub anyone‟s nose in his
credentials at this stage. It only created resentment since he was
still essentially an outsider. Still, he‟d been glad the Hollisters were
cleared. And Kate was going to be okay, too.

* * *

Summer brought tourists and weekend visitors from other parts

of Colorado. Even though they, in turn, brought business, Sully
could not help resenting the invasion. This year might not be quite
as busy as some a decade ago, but he went though a lot of gas in a
couple of weeks and got the tow truck out for a rescue job nearly
every day.

He could have been wrong, but it seemed hotter than usual.

And dry, way too dry. He hit the lever to bring the lift down,
having just finished a lube job on a local‟s pickup. The old truck
might not last much longer and he hated to give the owner that
news, but he‟d done his best to keep it going awhile longer.
Stepping to the open door of the bay, he glanced up at the nearest
hills. The green of spring growth had faded to a dull tan and even
the lower evergreens looked wan.

It was fire season. He could feel it in his bones. There‟d be one

any day, probably a bad one. With all the out-of-town folks having
to have a campfire, despite the Forest Service rules, it was as

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

inevitable as death and taxes. Most of them were careful, but a few
didn‟t wait to see if theirs was dead out. Just one little spark could
kindle a raging forest fire. Just one.

Where’s Smoky the Bear when you need him? The thought had

barely crossed his mind when he saw it: the tiniest wisp of gray,
rising toward the impossibly blue sky from a spot hidden in a
shadowed canyon. It could be just someone‟s campfire. Although
there was an official campground up there, the smoke wisp seemed
a little too far up the canyon. The contour map of the area was
almost burned into Sully‟s brain. He‟d watched those hills, hiked
most of them, and lived with them like family that long.

He jogged to the door of his quarters and grabbed the

binoculars from their ledge just inside. Let’s see what we have
here… Even as he raised the glasses, the plume seemed to grow.
With the midday winds going up canyon, a small fire could grow
fast. He threw the binoculars on his sagging recliner before he
turned and ran across the street. If they got up there in time they
might contain the fire. It would take the Forest Service more than
an hour to get a crew anywhere close. VVFD could get there in
less than half that time.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

CHAPTER 4

Grady spotted Sully as soon as the other man came around the

garage, breaking into a run as he crossed the street. He followed
Sully‟s pointing hand to catch a glimpse of the smoke on the
mountain. The next thing Grady did was glance down to be sure
Jamie and Lots were still in the yard. They were. With Sandy
inside the station, he figured they‟d be okay. Taking time to haul a
grumbling Jamie to the day care might kill their opportunity to
knock down the fire fast.

He scrambled across the roof and down the ladder, grabbing his

T-shirt as he went. He ran into the station through the back door,
the closest one. He got inside just in time to hear Sully yell at
Sandy, “Put out a call. There‟s a fire up Bear Track Canyon.
Maybe we can catch it while it‟s still small.” The words were

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

hardly out of his mouth before he jumped into the biggest tanker
and started the motor.

Grady grabbed his gear on the run to the truck. He‟d started to

get a mental picture of the area. Bear Track was a scenic region
favored by many visitors. There were two good hiking trails that
ran from the campground just inside the canyon‟s mouth well up
into the higher reaches. Although it had dwindled to a mere trickle
with the drought, normally a sparkling creek flowed down the
canyon, one that had pools deep enough for swimming and drew a
lot of wildlife. As the usual clamor of alarms sounded, he
scrambled into the passenger seat and slapped the seatbelt across
his body. “Let‟s go.”

After Sully put the big truck in gear, they roared out and almost

flew through town, sirens blaring. The forest road began about half
a mile up the state highway that bisected Valle Vista. Barely
slowing, Sully made the turn. The water in the main tank sloshed,
even though it was close to full. For a moment, the truck rocked
and its tires spun on loose gravel, then the weight settled and they
found traction again.

Once up in the canyon they could see the fire was above the

campground by several hundred yards. The first part of one trail
was wide enough to drive. Maybe they could get close enough to
reach the fire with a hose instead of only fighting it with hand
tools. They could hope it wasn‟t that big yet, even though the
smoke seemed to be telling another tale. With everything tinder
dry, Grady knew the blaze would spread fast.

“Oh fuck,” Sully ground out. “I‟ll get in as close as I can, but

it‟s going to be tricky. I should‟ve taken the smaller truck. This big
ole tanker is liable to high center or drag ass crossing some of the
gullies.”

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

All Grady could do was hang on as the truck lurched over

narrow gullies cut by snow melt and the rocky spines between
them. It appeared an austere budget had kept the Forest Service
from the usual spring grading of this and many roads. He could
smell the smoke now and see increasing haze through the trees
ahead. Finally, he began to see flickers of flame. Sully slammed on
the brakes short of nosing into a deeper wash.

“Can‟t do this one with this truck. Bumper‟s going to dig into

the far wall while the ass end is still high.”

Grady nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. If we put both hoses

together we might get close enough to start hitting it with some
water.” Behind him, he could hear other vehicles. Judy would be
driving the brush truck and old Ambrose Sutter would probably
have the second tanker. They‟d all have to stop behind the big
tanker because the trail was too narrow here to go around. Grady
figured probably even smaller trucks could not navigate this wash
anyway, given how deep and very narrow it was.

They could probably pump water from the second tanker into

this one, but that would take time. Very soon, Judy came
scampering up the track, two other women with her. Grady saw
they were outfitted in their gear, all three carrying shovels. Two of
the women also had the axe-pick combinations called Pulaskis and
Judy had a McLeod, the two-sided tool with a rake blade on one
side and a wide hoe on the other.

“We‟ll circle around on the uphill side and see how big it is.

Maybe we can cut a break to slow it down.”

“Be careful and watch the wind. The heat can change the

normal air flow and fires like to run upslope.”

Judy grinned. “Oh yeah, we‟ll be watching. This ain‟t my first

rodeo, boss.”

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

Ambrose came trudging up next, red-faced and puffing. Grady

sighed. He really didn‟t like to have guys well over sixty on his
crew, but he wasn‟t in Kansas City anymore. Sully already had the
pump working. Grady finished pulling off the second hose and,
keeping the couplings up so they wouldn‟t gather debris, he started
dragging it closer to the fire. Sully began to unwind the first hose
and followed him.

Grady glanced back and yelled directions, hoping to give

Ambrose the easiest task he could. “Wait until Bob shows up,
Ambrose, and then the two of you see if you can reach this truck
with the hose from yours so we can transfer water.”

He could hear the crackle now as the fire ate through downed

wood and dry weeds growing among the trees. Above the snaps
and pops, he also heard the windy breath of the flames. All fires
“talked,” but he found a forest fire had a voice of its own, ominous
and chilling.

“Stop about there,” Sully yelled. “I‟m near the end of this

hose.”

After they coupled the two hoses, Grady went on, stretching the

second one out behind him as he went. He‟d reached the lower
edge of the burned area when he got to the end. Sully had gone
back to start the flow. When it hit, that hose would buck like a wild
bronc. Grady hoped he could hang on until the other man got to
him. He also hoped one or more of the younger volunteers might
somehow be off work today and would come. They needed all the
hands they could get.

A few yards in front of him, he could see trails of flame

flickering along the ground, devouring pine needles and twigs.
When they hit a larger fuel source, they leaped in greedy glee.
Much of that and they‟d get hot enough to take on a live tree.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

Farther up the hill, he suspected some already were. Even the live
trees were feeling the drought, needles barely holding traces of
moisture, many of them falling to cut down on the loss of precious
water. Even though that made the tree weaker by limiting its
photosynthesis, the ploy might let it live through the dry spell.

Grady managed to keep the hose steady until Sully reached

him. Together, they shot water into the nearest edge of the fire,
watched the flames flicker and fall, but the upper reaches
continued to burn and there was no way they could spray the water
that far.

“I hope Sandy got through to the Forest Service. If they can hit

the upper ridges with slurry before it gets too widespread, we can
nip this sucker.”

Sully grunted his assent, twisting the valve to shut off the

water, which had dwindled to a trickle.

They‟d emptied both trucks. Grady knew he should send the

smaller one back for more water, but the fire had moved far
enough he doubted they could get water on it now. In a minute,
they‟d gather tools and trudge up the hill to help Judy and her
partners. They dragged the hoses back to the truck and loaded
them.

That chore done, they paused for a minute, assessing their next

move as they took a short break. The two of them stood there,
feeling the weight of frustration. Grady glanced across the hose,
met Sully‟s keen hazel gaze and felt an electric jolt all the way to
his toes.

“We‟ve actually got a lot in common,” Sully said after a few

tense seconds. “I‟m thinking maybe we should bury the hatchet.
I‟ll go first because I know I‟m the one who‟s made this harder
than it had to be. When you got the job I wanted worse than

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

anything I ever hoped for at Christmas, I was mad as a scalded
skunk and about as mean. I‟m sorry. I realize now you‟re a lot
better suited to be the chief, a real leader, than I‟ll ever be.”

“I started to realize what the problem was,” Grady responded,

“so no hard feelings. I probably would‟ve been just as
cantankerous if things were reversed. You‟ve helped me a lot in
spite of everything, and I appreciate it. You‟re a man I‟m glad to
have at my back—anytime.”

Dropping his heavy glove, he held his hand out to meet Sully‟s.

The next thing he knew he was enveloped in a hug, an awkward
one because of their bulky protective gear, but no less evocative.
He was a bit the taller of the two of them, but stood a step farther
downhill, which put them face to face. Sully‟s freckled mug was
suddenly right there—close enough their helmet brims clashed,
close enough…

“I reckon the connection worked, eh?”
Ambrose came chugging up the track. Thank all the powers, he

yelled before he rounded the tanker. Otherwise, no telling what he
might have witnessed. As it was, Sully jerked back like he‟d been
hit with a cattle prod, while Grady fumbled with the handle on the
nearest toolbox, needing anything he could use to distract himself.
Still, his voice sounded odd when he answered the old man. “Yeah,
it did. You and Bob did good,”

“It was just me really. Bob never made it. I think he had a

doctor‟s appointment in Pueblo today. Anyway, Mike and Tate
showed up when I almost had it done and helped me finish. They
got their Pulaskis and McLeods and started up toward the front. It
took me a bit to get up here.” He dropped onto a boulder and took
a few deep breaths.

Sully and Grady both looked at him with concern. “You okay?”

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

He nodded. “Just need to get some extra air in the old lungs.

I‟m fine.”

“Listen,” Grady said after a few seconds. “I need you to head

back down the canyon and see if you can get through to Sandy on
the radio. We need to know if the Forest Service is getting on this.
We‟re not going to be able to do more than slow it down. From
that first gate you should be able to reach town and relay back to us
here.”

“I‟ll go and help you get the hoses free,” Sully offered. He

glanced at Grady for a split second. “I‟ll bring back some tools and
we can go up the hill, too.”

Grady nodded. “Okay, but we ought to try to back this rig

down a ways and get off the track so the Forest Service crew can
get through. You handle this clunker better than I do. Maybe we
should switch jobs here.”

When Ambrose stood again, Grady started back down the hill

with him. The time away to calm down would be good. When he
faced Sully again he‟d have the disturbing moments tucked away
in a safe corner of his mind. Such a distraction in the fire zone
could be dangerous. But in time, he knew he‟d have to deal with it,
with Sully and the escalating sizzle of attraction that flared
between them. He sensed a big fire of another kind was about to
break out.

He‟d been too busy to give it a lot of thought, maybe even

subconsciously avoiding the implications but the fact Sully was
single and never mentioned a girlfriend or any social activity now
took on new significance. Could the mechanic be gay, too? The
thought both excited and alarmed him.

* * *

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

It was late afternoon before the distinctive rumble of the planes

used for slurry drops echoed up the canyon. For that job,
refurbished World War II prop planes were the best. The tricky
winds and rugged terrain made jets with their speed and lack of
soaring capability almost useless, while the old DC-6s and their ilk
could lumber along, almost slow to a hover, and maneuver to make
good drops.

Several more members of the Valle Vista crew had arrived in

the meantime and the whole group had spread out along the edges
of the fire, hacking away dry vegetation and clearing duff to make
a crude fire break. That helped, but there were still places they
could not reach, and narrow gullies too dangerous to be trapped in
ahead of the greedy flames racing uphill.

Not long after the first aircraft arrived, a team of the crack

Native American firefighters showed up, well equipped with the
tools of the trade and ready to go to work. Their leader looked
around, respect clear in his expression.

“Hey, you guys have done a great job. It‟d be a lot worse

without your efforts. We‟ll take it now. You all look pretty beat.”

Sully saw Grady‟s grin. “We tried,” he said. “Actually, it was

Sully here who spotted the first trace of smoke and summoned the
crew. A lot of credit goes to him.”

The Indians fanned out and began to climb, sending all the

Valle Vista folks they encountered down to their vehicles. It was a
weary, dirty but proud group that returned to the station and started
to take care of the equipment to be ready for the next fire. They
joked quietly as they dragged hoses to the drying rack, wiped down
the trucks, refueled and checked over their gear.

All at once Grady stopped what he was doing. He looked

around, consternation clear in his expression. “Jamie…and Lots.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

Where are they? They should‟ve come out by now to hear all about
our day.” He‟d sent Sandy home as soon as they got to the station
since it was already well past her shift. He cussed himself, but tired
and running nearly on autopilot, the habit of looking after a child
had taken a back seat to the longer-term one of dealing with the
aftermath of a fire.

One of the latecomers rounded the big truck, a hose ready for

the drying rack in his hand. “Isn‟t the kid with you? He and that
spotted pup came out when I drove over here to pick up my gear.
Must‟ve been about five, after I got home from work and heard
about the fire. Kid said he had permission and wanted to go up to
the base camp to wait for you. Looks like I really fucked up. My
mind was on the fire, what I needed to take and stuff. Shit, man,
I‟m sorry.”

The string of profanity Grady let loose revealed how upset he

was. Sully laid a hand on his arm. “Come on, man. Calm down.
We‟ll go right back up there and find them. Somehow we missed
them when we loaded up to come home. They‟ll be getting hungry
and probably a little bit scared by now. We‟ll find them. They‟ll be
okay and maybe a little wiser for the experience.”

Grady looked at him for a heartbeat, the anguish in his eyes

saying more than any words. “I‟m praying,” he said after a deep
breath. “I‟m not a religious man, but I‟m praying.” Without
another word, he turned and headed for his truck. “Can you finish
the clean-up, guys?” He called that back over his shoulder just
before he climbed in.

Judy answered for the rest. “You bet, and we‟ll be up there as

soon as we‟re done, unless you‟re already back here with them.”

Sully said a few prayers himself as Grady drove up the forest

road, faster than was really safe. Pesky as the boy and his dog

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

could be, Sully had come to love them both. Night on a fiery
mountain was not a safe place for them to be. Maybe one of the
Indians had corralled them. Maybe they were… He hardly dared to
finish the notion of where or how the pair might be.

When he glanced across at Grady, he saw the tense line of the

other man‟s jaw in the dim glow from the dash. Darkness came
fast on the eastern side of the big range and here in the canyon,
dusk was rapidly fading to inky darkness. Up ahead dim glows
revealed where the fire still burned. In spots, it advanced like a fast
freight train, roaring through the steep, rugged terrain. In spots—
Sully thought of the lanky half-grown pup and the kid, somewhere
up there in the hostile night.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

CHAPTER 5

Grady parked between the crew truck the Indian firefighters

used and another Forest Service vehicle. He collected his powerful
flashlight and then reached back behind the seat to get a blanket
and the first aid kit he always carried. He blanked his mind against
the worst-case possibilities, determined not to visualize them into
reality.

Sully grabbed another flashlight and joined him in front of the

pickup. They hesitated then over which way to go first. Grady
fought the urge to run around crazily, yelling Jamie‟s name. Most
of the fire had moved along higher up the slopes and farther up the
canyon. The smoky scent hung in the air, but otherwise, little sign
of the blaze appeared.

Sully slipped his arm across Grady‟s shoulders. The half-hug

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

imparted a comfort Grady sorely needed. Right then, he was very
glad Sully was with him. The other man could be volatile,
cantankerous, prickly and abrasive, but tonight he was the soul of
calm, giving quiet, steady support.

“We‟ll find them,” Sully assured him again. “They‟re all right.

I‟m not sure how I know, but I‟m positive. Take a minute and see
if you can reach out to Jim. You‟re a lot closer to him than I am,
even if we are getting to be buds.”

Grady drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. He pictured

Jamie‟s face, the bright, eager smile so much a part of the boy‟s
normal expression. Despite the bond he‟d formed with his adopted
son, the vision he kept seeing was Lots, hovering at the brink of a
shadowed depression, whining.

He shut his eyes for a moment and tried to home in on that

place. “It‟s up and off to the left,” he said, a sudden assurance
strengthening his voice and resolve. “I‟m seeing the dog more than
Jamie, but they‟ll be together.‟

They started off, walking a few yards apart, shining their lights

into every hollow and off among the trees. At the faint sound, they
both stopped. Was that a bark? An anxious, troubled yap of a bark?

A blur of white shot toward them from a clump of brush, one

the fire had not touched. Lots ran to Grady and then to Sully. He
whined, twisting and bouncing back and forth between them. Then
he darted off into the darkness. Grady pelted after him, praying the
dog would not vanish and would lead them to Jamie. Was the boy
hurt? Had he gotten lost? Again, he had to suppress the bad
possibilities. They’re all right. If Lots is here and okay, that means
Jamie isn’t far.

When they got too far behind, the pup came running back to

repeat his anxious dance and then speed off again. This time they

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

did not have to go far to catch up.

“Jamie? Can you hear me? Holler so I can find you.”
“It‟s okay,” Sully called. “Nobody‟s going to punish you, even

if you did something pretty stupid and bad. I think you‟ve learned
a lesson. We‟re going to take you home…you and Lots.”

They stopped, listening. Not far ahead they heard Lots

whimper and then a small, scared voice. “I‟m over here, Uncle
Sully—‟n‟ Dad. In a hole, kinda. I fell and my leg hurts. I tried to
get up, but it hurt too much. Then I heard voices, and Lots went off
and barked a bunch, but nobody came. It got dark, and I was
getting cold and hungry.”

Grady headed for the sound, taking pains not to fall himself,

although he needed to reach his child as fast as humanly possible.
He shone his light ahead and saw the drop in time to stop.

Sure enough, Jamie was curled in a hole, a pit left when a dead

tree pulled free of the earth, leaving a gaping hole where the roots
had been. The winter rains and melting snow had washed the
broken ground away to leave a ragged pit. It looked like Jamie had
fallen over a rock, and from the angle of his right foot, his leg was
broken. Grady‟s heart lodged somewhere behind his Adam‟s apple,
even as relief staggered him.

The child‟s face was streaked with dirt, soot and tears, but to

Grady, his son had never looked better. He slid down the
embankment, while Sully held a light steady to illuminate the
scene. Lots scampered around in dizzy circles, yapping and
whining.

“Okay, boy. You did your job. Good dog.” Grady patted the

pup and then knelt at Jamie‟s side. He lifted the child clear of the
rock. Jamie whimpered.

Sully slid down to join them. “Let me take care of it, Grady.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

I‟ve got the training, too. It‟ll be easier for us all.”

Grady hesitated only a few seconds. “Okay, you‟re right.

We‟ve got to splint the leg to minimize any added damage, but it‟s
going to hurt. We can probably use some of the sticks here.”

Sully knelt at Jamie‟s side. “Hey, sport, let‟s see if we can do a

fast fix for you that‟ll last ‟til we get down to town, okay? It‟s
gonna hurt some, but I‟ll make it as easy as I can.”

Jamie sniffed, but looked up at his new hero with a faint grin.

“You do it, Uncle Sully. I‟m tough.”

Grady shifted to shine the light at the best angle, while Sully

applied a makeshift splint. Jamie reached out and grabbed Grady‟s
free hand, holding on with a death grip. He gasped a couple of
times as Sully eased the leg into approximate alignment.

Grady saw the glisten of tears in Jamie‟s eyes, but he never so

much as whimpered. Pride flooded Grady‟s heart. He was still mad
about the kid‟s foolish stunt and the fib, but he suspected Jamie
would gain more from the object lesson than any lecture or
punishment he might be given. Later on, they‟d have a talk, but for
now, all that mattered was they‟d found Jamie and he wasn‟t badly
injured. Hell, every kid had to suffer a broken bone or two. It was
almost a rite of passage.

When Sully finished the split, he stood and looked at Grady.

“Okay, that‟s done. Let‟s go. Why don‟t you let me drive back?
That way you can hold Jim here and minimize the jolts and bumps
for him.”

Grady was not reluctant to agree. He lifted Jamie, briefly

surprised how heavy the boy seemed until he remembered he‟d
already put in a long day of strenuous effort fighting a fire. Still he
was breathing heavily and feeling the strain when they reached his
truck.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

Sully took the keys and opened the passenger door. Before

anyone could move, Lots jumped in and scuttled over the seat to
his usual spot in the space behind it. The pup seemed pretty
pleased with himself and not at all contrite. Of course, he wasn‟t
the one who‟d engineered the adventure, although there was no
doubt he‟d been an eager participant until things went wrong.

Bracing himself against the edge of the seat, Grady

maneuvered Jamie through the door and extended the boy‟s
splinted leg across toward the driver‟s side. The small hand
grabbing a handful of his shirt felt incredibly good. As he settled
Jamie across his lap, he inhaled the precious, familiar scent of kid:
dirt and sweat, dog and innocence.

After a short time, Jamie stirred. “I‟m sorry, Dad. I know what

I did was wrong. I told Mr. Jackson a lie, but I wanted Lots to get a
chance to go to a fire. Dal—er, whatever his breed is, they‟re
firefighter dogs. I saw that on TV. Next time, though, I‟ll ask you
or Uncle Sully. And if you say no, I‟ll stay there with Sandy.”

Grady shook his head. “Yeah, what you did was wrong and

kind of dumb. You could‟ve gotten lost. Lots could‟ve gotten
scared, run off and been lost. You both could‟ve been caught in the
fire. It‟s serious business and there are a lot of dangerous things up
on a mountain at night.”

Jamie burrowed his head closer to Grady‟s chest. “Yeah, it was

kinda scary. I was glad Lots was there. We heard some weird
noises, and he barked real fierce. It must‟ve scared ‟em away
‟cause we didn‟t hear them again. Anyway, I‟m glad you and
Uncle Sully came to get me.”

Sully started off slow and easy, and continued down the rough

road with unusual care. Even at a sedate pace, it didn‟t take long to
get back down close to the highway. Just short of the cattle guard

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

where two forest roads connected, near the mouth of the canyon,
they met Judy in her SUV and two of the other firefighters in a
pickup. They stopped long enough to share the good news before
heading on toward town.

As they slowed at the edge of town, Sully turned to Grady. “I‟d

say this is something Arch can take care of at the clinic, but if you
want to go on down to Boca Cañon, I‟ll take you.”

Grady hesitated a few seconds. “It looks to be a simple break,

no protruding bone or major issues. Not much danger of infection.
And if Ja—Jim is in shock, it‟s mild. Let‟s go to the clinic. If Arch
sees anything that worries him, he‟ll tell me. He‟s a good medic.”

* * *

Two hours later, Sully followed Grady back out to the truck.

Cradled in his dad‟s arms, the boy seemed on the verge of sleep,
his blond head bright against the black shoulder of Grady‟s shirt.
The child‟s right leg was encased in a denim blue cast from foot to
the knee, but no other signs of his adventure were visible.

The mild sedative Arch had given young Jim was already

working. The boy made a soft, sleepy sound as Grady shifted him
to get back in the truck. Again, Sully drove. He circled the fire
station and stopped with the passenger door adjacent to the yard
gate.

“Here you go,” he said. “I can leave the truck here or put it

over by the side of the station where you usually park.”

“This is fine,” Grady replied. “But where do you think you‟re

going? I owe you some chow at least. There‟s a big batch of chili
in the fridge. We can nuke a bowl of it as soon as I get Jamie into
bed.”

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

Sully hesitated with his answer as the morning‟s interrupted

scene surfaced with a jolt. If he came in, what was going to
happen? He exhaled a slow breath. If anything happened, maybe it
was meant to—maybe it would be best to let nature take its course
and the new tension between them come undone, one way or
another. Looking back, he acknowledged part of his animosity
stemmed from the surge of attraction he‟d felt from the very first.
Coupled with his resentment, it had kept him in a knot for weeks
now. The night might end in a fight, a fuck, or who knew where,
but some closure seemed to be needed.

Following across the yard, he tried to will his sudden hard-on

into submission, but the sight of Grady, muscles taut as he carried
the sleeping kid only fueled that fire. Sully reached around them to
open the door and then stopped just inside while Grady took Jim
down to the boy‟s room at the opposite end.

Too soon he was back, pausing a step into the main room. For

long seconds, they locked eyes, a sizzling arc of awareness dancing
between them. Finally, Grady tore his gaze away.

“You gotta be hungry,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Yeah, I‟m starved.”
They both knew the conversation moved on two levels. Grady

took the plastic tub of chili out of the refrigerator. He almost
dropped it as Sully came up behind him and wrapped his arms
around Grady, pressing close against him so there would be no
mistaking the bulge in Sully‟s abruptly too-tight jeans.

Grady gave a ragged sigh. “Nooo. No, but yeah. I‟m not sure

we oughta do this, bud, but I don‟t think I can help it any more
than you can. It‟s been coming at us like a runaway train from the
first day, hasn‟t it?”

Sully nuzzled against the back of Grady‟s neck. The curling

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

“I think this is going to be one hell of a fine train wreck.” The

last word emerged muffled against Sully‟s mouth as their lips met
and ground together, closing the circuit so sparks flew and the heat
ratcheted up to the flashpoint.

When he finally pulled back from the incinerating kiss, Sully

glanced down the hall. Although the bedroom door was shut, he
still worried. “What about the kid?”

“He‟s down for the count. He sleeps like he was dropped on his

head anyway and with the shot Arch gave him, he‟s double-out.
But I‟m not going to keep secrets and I‟ll never lie to him. He‟s not
going to interrupt anything right now, though.”

“What are you going to tell him?” All at once Sully sensed

Grady‟s answer could be the cement or the deal breaker. He really
liked young Jim. He respected the child‟s courage and ability to
deal with some terrible trauma and still be a good, normal kid.
He‟d die before he‟d damage the mixture of innocence and wisdom
the boy displayed.

“If and when it comes to that point, I‟ll tell him the truth,

phrased to his level. That we‟re special friends, partners and that
love can come in a lot of shapes, sizes and colors.”

Sully‟s knees went weak with relief. That was one hell of a

good answer, the utterly right answer. He released the breath he
hadn‟t realized he‟d held. “Works for me,” he mumbled as again
their mouths came together and merged, more than just skin-to-
skin meeting and bonding at that instant.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

CHAPTER 6

Grady sensed his answer to Sully‟s sudden question had

somehow passed a test. The fact Sully had felt and even expressed
concern for Jamie‟s wellbeing and the boy‟s reaction to a
relationship developing between them told him almost all he
needed to know. It also confirmed his gut feeling about the other
man had been dead on. Sully was a good man, an honest and
honorable one. And here he was, holding Grady like a drowning
man clutching a life buoy and kissing like there was no tomorrow.
A giddy euphoria swept over him.

He clasped the other man‟s solid body as close to his as he

could bring it, drank in his scent and flavor in a kiss that went on
and on. Soon even that intense connection was not enough. Almost
simultaneously, they loosened their embraces and stepped back to

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

where they did not quite touch.

“I want more, too,” Grady said, “but what‟ll it be?”
Sully sucked in a fast breath, his gaze locked with Grady‟s. “I

really don‟t give a rat‟s ass. So long as it‟s us, you and me,
anything‟s going to be good.”

Grady grinned. “Oh yeah, I‟m sure of that, too, but what do you

like, want, need? What‟s the most exciting, most fulfilling thing
you ever did or had done to you?”

He could see the other man thinking, remembering. The flash

of jealousy surprised him. He realized he didn‟t want to think
about anyone else with Sully, some other man making his body
sizzle and sing, some other man who still lingered in his memories.

“Probably the first time, other than just kid stuff, fooling

around, you know. Way back when I was about eighteen. It was all
new then and edging into dangerous, forbidden territory. I‟d just
gone in the navy….”

“Hell, you talk like you‟re sixty or something. How long ago

was eighteen—ten years or so?”

Sully laughed. “I wish ten years. I‟ll be thirty-four in October.

Seems long ago, anyway, almost half a lifetime. Me and the other
guy gave each other a blow job in the back of the galley. We both
had KP and were griping about it and all at once he said, „Hey, I
know a way to make the time go faster.‟ I was scared to death we‟d
get caught, but we didn‟t. Maybe that‟s what made it such a thrill.”

Grady had to laugh, too, picturing the scene. “Well, I can sure

give you a BJ. It‟s been a while—since just before Jamie came into
my life, but that‟s not a trick you forget.”

“No, this needs to be mutual, sharing and both of us getting off,

as much together as we can. I know your room is right next to the
boy‟s, but I can be quiet. I want to be naked and feel all of you

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

with all of me.”

The visions Sully‟s blunt words invoked had Grady aching

with need, more aroused than he could recall being for a very long
time. “I‟d like that, too. Come on.”

They both started undoing buttons and belts, lowering zippers

as they made the short trek to Grady‟s bedroom door. Just inside
they started throwing clothes into a pile, finally fighting with the
laces to kick off their boots. “Shit, these damn steel-toed jobs are a
bitch to get out of. Right now I‟d rather have on sneakers or
moccasins.”

Finally, both bare as new babies, they tumbled onto Grady‟s

bed. Two hands did not seem to be enough. They tangled legs and
arms, twisted and rolled together, stiff cocks fencing like eager
foils, touching, sliding past each other and seeking a connection.

After a bit of playful wrestling and teasing, Grady flipped

around to put his head toward the foot of the bed. Time for play
was past. He wanted to get down to business. Business meant the
ruddy prick he found right in front of his face, thrusting proudly
from a tangle of dark auburn hair.

Clasping a hand around the base, he steadied it and made a

leisurely tour of the sleek, hard heat with his tongue. Sully muffled
his gasps and groans and then managed to get a firm grip on
Grady‟s dick. So hard he ached, Grady knew he would not last
long once Sully got a mouthful of him. He sensed they were both
about ready to explode.

He paused after sipping a shiny drop from the slit at the tip of

Sully‟s cock. “Trust me not to bite you when I come?”

Sully‟s voice came muffled as he widened his mouth to take in

the head of Grady‟s prick and then as much of the length as he
could. “Uh-huh. If you feel safe between my jaws at the same

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

time.”

Soon there was no stopping, no backing off. They erupted

within seconds of each other, swallowing their howls of ecstasy
along with one another‟s ejaculations. After he caught his breath,
Grady rose to his knees and turned around to lie beside Sully.

“I don‟t know about you, but in spite of all today‟s exertions

and trials, that was one spectacular BJ.”

Sully nodded, his expression serious, although a bit of merry

mischief danced in his eyes. “Not bad, not bad at all. But I‟m not
so sure I wouldn‟t like something more.”

Grady cuffed Sully‟s arm in mock alarm. “What do you think I

am, some kind of super triathlete? We‟ve been on the go for a good
sixteen hours, and you ought to be dragging ass by now. What if I
said I had a headache?”

“I‟d shove a bottle of aspirin where the sun don‟t shine and tell

you to get over it.”

“Just what kind of more did you have in mind?”
Sully actually went a bit red beneath his ruddy complexion and

scattering of freckles. “It‟s kind of embarrassing to admit, but I‟ve
never taken it in the ass. I‟m kinda like a virgin, but this time I‟d
like to find out what that‟s like.”

“Give me a little time to rest and I think I can get it up again for

you. I‟ll do my best if that‟s what you‟re hankering for.”

“I never wanted to let anybody do me that way before. But

you‟re different, special.”

The other man‟s hesitant admission made Grady feel both

humble and elated. He struggled to find the right words to respond.
This was a side of the brash and almost belligerent Sully he had
never seen. Not exactly vulnerable, but revealing a hidden inner
facet Sully tended to keep well concealed.

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

“If that‟s what you want, I‟ll try to make it a memorable

experience for you. I‟m afraid my cherry got busted when I was
still wet behind the ears. It wasn‟t real pleasant, but later on I
learned it can be. I know some tricks…”

They lay quiet for a while and maybe catnapped a little bit.

Then Grady heard a faint whine and scratch inside the door of
Jamie‟s room. Lots needed to go out. “I better let that dog out. He
missed his last whiz before bedtime. I‟ll be right back.” He pulled
on his Levis, but left the top button undone.

Careful to be quiet, he eased the door open and then followed

the pup to the kitchen door opening into the fenced yard. “Go do
your business, Lots. When you‟re done, I‟ll feed you. Reckon we
missed that, too. It‟s been a pretty crazy day.”

The dog bounded down into the yard and disappeared for a few

seconds. Then he was back, whippy tail transcribing enthusiastic
arcs, almost wagging his whole back half. When Grady
remembered Lots‟ role in leading them to Jamie, he could not hold
back a grin. He knew he‟d never be quite as impatient or
aggravated with the pup again. As Sully had said, he was turning
into a real good dog.

A brief worry crossed his mind. How would the town handle

this relationship? Of course, some would disapprove, but as he
went through the roster of his crew, he trusted them to be accepting
and understanding. They were all good people, not too judgmental,
open-minded and willing to live and let live. He‟d discovered Judy
Diaz and Merry Hankins lived together and were probably a
couple, so he and Sully wouldn‟t be the only same-sex pair in
town.

While he pondered, Grady dumped a can of kibble into the dish

and filled the water bowl. By then he decided he was ready to go

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

grant Sully‟s wish, which, if he were honest, would not exactly be
a penance for him. He‟d noticed on more than one occasion that
Sully had a well-shaped muscular ass. Bared of the other man‟s
customary jeans or mechanic‟s coverall, he knew it would be
tempting. He started getting hard just thinking about it.

When he reached the bedroom door, he stopped. Sully lay face

down on the bed, the back view every bit as enticing as he had
imagined. But wait, was the other man asleep? He breathed in a
deep, slow rhythm and seemed to be unaware Grady had returned.
At first, Grady was tempted to let him sleep, simply slip in, shut
off the light and lie down to sleep himself, aching cock
notwithstanding.

But no, Sully had made a request and, by golly, he was going to

get it. Grady strode to the bed and slapped one white cheek. He
didn‟t hit hard, but his hand left a reddened print that faded slowly.

“What the fuck?” Sully reared up and glowered back over his

shoulder. “I wasn‟t asleep. Not really. You into spanking or
something? I don‟t think I am.”

Grady laughed. “The devil made me do it,” he responded. “You

still want to open the back door?”

“Yeah, but no more swats, at least this time.”
“Okay. I don‟t do that much, honest. I just couldn‟t resist this

once. But from here on, this is all about you.”

He took time, a lot of time. Teasing with fingers and then

tongue, he accustomed Sully to the intimate touch, the first probes
and pressure. He got a tube of lube and a condom before he went
too far and made sure the other man was slick and moist, so there
would be no pain or tearing. Before Grady was ready to begin,
Sully was mumbling incoherently, begging him to just do it.

“Slide down and get your feet on the floor and that awesome

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

ass in the air.”

Sully lost no time in complying. Grady grasped his flanks and

then paused to draw his own prick up and down along the crack of
Sully‟s ass. Once he was also well coated with the slick oil, he
started the first careful probe, waiting for Sully to relax and let him
past the first tight ring of muscle. From there on, it was just a slow,
steady cycle of probe and back off, trust and retreat. Grady
managed to maintain control until, much to his surprise, Sully
reached around and tickled his balls. That was too much. He let go
then and pumped rigorously until he felt Sully shudder and knew
he‟d hit that inner sweet spot. Then he let himself come. He‟d
thought he had nothing left, but that turned out not to be true. He
exploded in a fierce climax and then managed to reach around
Sully and jack him off with a few fast strokes.

Afterward, they squeezed into the small shower stall together

and soaked in the hot water, scrubbed each other‟s backs and let
the last of the day‟s sweat and dirt flow down the drain until the
water began to go cold. By the time that was done, it was closer to
daybreak than midnight.

“I think I better get my ass home,” Sully said as they toweled

off. “It‟s a little soon to explain to Jim why Uncle Sully is in Dad‟s
bed. That‟ll come, but let‟s let him get used to this gradually.”

Grady nodded, wanting to fall asleep with his new lover, but

recognizing the wisdom in Sully‟s words. “Yeah, we have plenty
of time, or we should. Guess no one has an ironclad guarantee, but
this thing we‟ve found feels real and solid to me. I figure it‟ll last
as long as we do, don‟t you?”

“Damn straight. You can put out my fires any day, and I think I

can take care of yours. Beyond that…well, time will tell. And even
though you still owe me some of that chili, I don‟t do chili for

SMOKE AND…SPOTS

breakfast.”

“I‟ll try to remember that the first time you sleep over.” Grady

watched as Sully let himself out and headed across the street. It
had been an amazing twenty-four hours and from where he stood
at the moment, it was only the beginning of the new life he had
hardly dared to dream he might find.

At that point, a small voice penetrated his daydreams. “Hey,

Dad, I gotta pee real bad, but I can‟t get this dang cast off the bed.
Can you come help me?”

Jamie might wind up with two dads or two uncles or whatever

he chose to call them, but there was no question he‟d be loved and
taken care of. And when the time came, whatever he chose would
be just fine, whether Jamie decided he liked girls better or boys.
He‟d know well before then that love was never bad, whenever or
however it came.

EIRDRE

O’D

ARE

Deirdre O‟Dare, who also writes milder (roughly PG-13 rated)
romance as Gwynn Morgan, has loved reading and writing since
early childhood. Writing came naturally to Deirdre/Gwynn, who
scribed her first simple verse at age eight. An avid reader, she
devoured hundreds of books while growing up and later as an
adult. Somewhere along the way she found romance and then
romance with more explicit and detailed love scenes. “Ah ha,” said
she, “I think I have found my niche!” In the last decade after
leaving her “day job” as a civilian employee of the U. S. Army, she
finally settled into romantic fiction writing as a second career.
Deirdre has a growing number of shorts and novellas, all published
by Amber Quill in the Heat and Allure imprints.

With Irish and Welsh ancestry on both sides of her family, Deirdre
has always been enthralled by the history and customs of the Celtic
peoples as they have come down to us. The Mother Goddess idea
particularly resonates with her as well as the notion that physical
expressions of love between consenting couples are both a divine
gift and a sacred duty to honor the Mother. Deirdre admits her
favorite heroes are cops, cowboys and Celts—with futuristic
denizens, aliens and those with super powers close behind.

* * *

Don’t miss Workin’ On The Railroad

by Deirdre O’Dare,

available at AmberAllure.com!

Roane Wellman only intends to work one summer on railroad
maintenance to pay for his next semester of college after his party-
guy ways cause his grandfather to stop supporting his schooling.
In a summer of hard work, adventure and danger, he matures and
finds a new course for his life. Before the season ends, he knows
he’s meant to be workin’ on the railroad as he fights to build a
career and a partnership that just might last for the rest of his life.

Alden Prescott is a loner, content to operate his big crane and
shrug off the added responsibilities of being a gang foreman. His
current foreman, however, is a drunkard and so close to worthless
that Alden ends up doing a lot of the functions he has tried to
avoid. Although Alden’s strongly drawn to the handsome new
summer hire, memories of a past tragedy make him afraid to
pursue the relationship.

What will it take to convince Alden that Roane is not going to let
him repeat past mistakes? And what will happen when the current
foreman winds up busted for illicit drug use? Workin’ on the
railroad packs a lot of danger, challenge, and some very hot
times—days at work and nights at play…

MBER

UILL

RESS

LLC

OLD

TANDARD IN

UBLISHING

UALITY

OOKS

OTH

RINT AND

LECTRONIC

ORMATS

CTION

DVENTURE

USPENSE

HRILLER

CIENCE

ICTION

ARK

ANTASY

AINSTREAM

OMANCE

ORROR

ROTICA

ANTASY

GLBT

ESTERN

YSTERY

ARANORMAL

ISTORICAL

IRECT

AVE

www.AmberQuill.com

www.AmberHeat.com

www.AmberAllure.com

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