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“I hear ya on that. I left home and haven’t been back either.”

  I wondered how a college-educated woman ended up being a barista in tiny Eden Lake. Before I had a chance to ask, something caught her attention behind me.

  She looked beyond me and smiled. “The usual?”

  “Make it double, Emma, thanks.”

  Everything inside me stilled. I knew that voice. It was slightly deeper, but there was no doubt in my mind who that was. Mason McLean was standing behind me.

  My hands shook slightly as I handed over my money.

  “Are you heading to the fire?” Emma asked, taking my money and getting me my change.

  “On my way now.”

  I wondered what Mason was doing heading to a fire. He was supposed to be in the military. At least that’s what he was doing when he left Eden Lake after high school.

  “I heard they evacuated Haynesville Ridge,” Emma said. “That’s a little too close for comfort.”

  I picked up my drink. In my head, I was telling myself, “Don’t look. Don’t look.” But I couldn’t help myself.

  I turned my head to see the man who’d been my best friend since I started school up until he turned his back on me in high school.

  Growing up, he’d been a bit like me; scrawny and plain. While I’d been bookish, he’d been more of a tech geek. At the end of high school, he started working out with his more athletic and popular younger brother, Tucker, and the last time I saw him, he was more filled out. But this man…holy moly. His t-shirt pulled tight over his chest, showing every line of his pec muscles. And he seemed bigger, wider, stronger.

  His boyish features were gone in his face too. He wore a light scruff of dark stubble. His hair was short, and his eyes were dark. He looked lethal.

  He turned to me with a smile and was about to say hi when he stopped. His smile faltered as recognition filled his eyes.

  “Willa?”

  I had this crazy urge to launch myself into his arms as I’d done growing up when I needed a friend. But I remembered that part of my predicament was his fault.

  “Mason.” I managed.

  He rolled his shoulders as if he was working on releasing tension. Why would he feel tension at seeing me?

  “I didn’t know you were in town,” he said.

  “Just arrived.”

  “You’re not planning to stay at your house, are you? That area has been evacuated.”

  “I was, but now I’m not sure where I’m going to stay…” I kicked myself for revealing so much. He didn’t need to know my business. “Are you living here again?”

  He nodded. “For a couple of years.”

  “Mason volunteers with the fire department,” Emma said. I wondered if he and Emma had a thing going on. A part of me hated that idea. I never liked it when it seemed like Mason was interested in a girl. Not that I was jealous. He was my friend; that’s it. At least that’s what I always told myself. Mason gestured for me to move to a spot against the wall so we wouldn't be in the way.

  “Is your family still here?” I asked.

  “Tucker plays football—”

  “Right. I knew that.” There was talk he could take his team to the Superbowl this year.

  “My parents moved to Mexico, living the dream.” He cocked his head to the side. “I haven’t seen your byline in the LA paper for a while.”

  Did he read my articles?

  “Layoffs. The Internet is killing newspapers. I freelance now.” I considered asking about his parents. But then again, I remembered they played a role in my family’s downfall.

  There was an awkward silence. I filled it by checking my watch. “If I’m going to find a place to stay, I need to head out,” I said as I made my way over to the counter and reached over for a lid to put on my coffee.

  “There won’t be any place around here,” Emma said.

  “I guess I’ll head back to San Bernardino. Thank you for the coffee.” Taking one last look at Mason, I said, “It was good to see you, Mason.”

  He nodded. “You too, Willa.”

  I tried to be nonchalant as I walked out the door, but inside I wanted to hurry. I’d almost made it to my car when I heard Mason call my name again.

  He strode toward me, looking taller than I’d remembered. “Listen. I'm probably going to be at this fire all night. Maybe even longer. You can stay at my place.”

  “I can’t stay with you,” I said in a tone that wasn’t as appreciative of the offer as good manners would dictate.

  His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

  “You know why.”

  He studied me. “No. I don’t think I do.”

  I looked around to see if anyone was watching. The town didn’t need to see a Haynesville and McLean arguing on the street. The feud between our two families had started by Henry and Jeb, and it continued over a hundred years through to today.

  “I can’t stay with the man whose family ruined mine.”

  He let out a bark of a laugh. “My family did no such thing. If you want to blame someone, blame your dad’s greed and bad business decisions.”

  My hackles rose. “You purposefully took pleasure in not helping when you could have. You wanted to see us fall.”

  He shook his head. “You’ve become a Haynesville after all.”

  “What does that mean?” I wanted to push him, but he was such a hulk now, I doubted he’d feel it.

  “Growing up, we made a pact to never get caught up in the feud between our families. But now you’re one of them. Blaming my family.” He stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell his earthy, manly scent. Electric tingles shot up my arms that I attributed to anger, not the hot man getting in my face.

  “My father made the decision to not help your dad, not me, not me,” he emphasized again. “Also, you have some nerve whining over his decision considering how your father and grand-father from way back treated my family.” He shook his head and made a face of distaste.

  He was right, but I was too raw and too vulnerable to admit it.

  “The offer stands if you can put up with staying in the home of a McLean. It’s the same house. My neighbor has the key.”

  “Your neighbor won’t let a Haynesville into your home.”

  “Nobody gives a shit about the families anymore, Willa.” He looked at me like I was a shallow, entitled brat. “Besides, she won’t recognize you,” he said, his gaze scanning up and down my body.

  I had the urge to cover up.

  “Truth is, I don’t recognize you either,” he said with that same derision that told me he wasn’t talking about how I looked, but how I was acting. Then he walked off, leaving me with my latte and guilt. He was right that for over a century, my family had often taken advantage of his. It started with my five-time great grandfather, who swindled Mason’s ancestor out of the gold stake.

  We had made a pact to be friends no matter what. Our friendship had been a secret all our lives. It was a relationship that I valued deeply but then lost. Mason’s family could have helped mine, but chose not to, probably out of spite. Looking at the situation objectively, I couldn’t blame them, but the result had been the loss of all I’d known. Mason was right that it was wrong to blame him, but I couldn’t very well betray my family by now seeking help from a McLean, could I?

  Chapter 2: In Walks the Past

  Mason

  As I drove west toward the fire department to get ready to help fight the fire, I wondered what the hell had just happened. The minute I walked into the café, the air felt different. It felt charged. But I couldn’t figure out why until the woman in front of me turned to look at me.

  Holy shit. It was Willa. She looked different now. But she wasn't so different that I couldn't recognize the person I had fallen in love with in high school. Back then, I was too chicken to tell her that I loved her, though. The last time I saw her, she had broken my heart and our friendship by blaming me for her family’s problems.

  What was I doing inviting her to stay at my place, espe
cially since I had a vacation rental she could stay at instead? Maybe it was the blasted head injury that got me discharged from the military that had me making poor decisions. Or maybe it was the fact that I couldn't help but notice her curves. I also noticed her blonde hair. It looked like she’d just gotten out of bed after vigorous sex. I’d always thought she was pretty, but now she was stunning. I had to stop myself from actually saying the word, "wow" out loud.

  A woman who looked like that had to have a boyfriend. Hell, maybe she was married with a couple of kids. Living in L.A., she’d have her pick of equally handsome men.

  My hands gripped the wheel of my SUV, annoyed at the jealousy I felt at that. It was stupid. She wasn’t mine. She hadn’t ever been mine. In the ten years since I’d last seen her, I was sure I’d gotten over her, so why did the idea of her being with someone else tie my insides into knots. Especially since the last time I saw her, she made me realize that she wasn't the sweet, gentle person I thought she was. Nope. She’d drunk the Haynesville family juice and was now thoroughly indoctrinated in the family feud that would put the Hatfields and McCoys to shame. But, there hadn’t been any bloodshed, at least not since prohibition.

  I figured I wouldn’t have to worry about it. I'm sure she thought I was too beneath her for her to even consider staying at my place. Maybe I should have shown her my financial portfolio. My net worth exceeded her dad’s when he was at his height. Of course, that probably wouldn’t matter. Haynesvilles hated McLeans no matter what. It was in their DNA.

  Nah, she was probably heading out of town, and I wouldn’t see her again. My gut didn’t like that idea either. It hadn’t been easy to lose a lifelong friend. Now that we were adults, you would think that more mature minds would prevail. Especially since today, no one in Eden Lake gave a shit about the Haynesville-McLean feud. I’m also not sure anyone did while we all lived there. Sure, it was entertaining for the town and made for good folklore for the tourists. But no one cared unless they wanted something from a Haynesville. Then they’d get on the ruin-the-McLean family bandwagon. But today, there were no Haynesvilles in town to suck up to.

  I arrived at the fire department and prepared to head out to the fire. Once I had all my gear, I worked to put Willa out of my head as I rode with other firefighters up past Haynesville Ridge to the fire road. In some ways, fighting fires was similar to my work as a SEAL. I had to keep fit, and I had to be prepared to enter a war zone.

  I hadn’t been so sure becoming a volunteer firefighter was a good idea. I was a few years out from leaving the Middle East and my work as a SEAL, but that didn’t mean I was cured of all of the horrors that war imprinted on my mind. I didn’t suffer as much as other servicemen did, but that didn’t mean I wanted to put myself in situations that triggered a panic.

  After leaving the military, I wasn’t sure what to do with my life because I didn’t know anything else. My brother Tucker asked me to help him train, so I moved to Los Angeles. He was a second-string quarterback with his eyes on the starting position. Then he was very successful. Word got out that I helped him train, so I was hired as a trainer by other athletes and a few celebrities preparing for superhero roles in upcoming films.

  I enjoyed the work, but not the city. On a trip home to help my parents pack for their move to Mexico, I realized Eden Lake was where I wanted to be. I bought my childhood house from my parents and started an Internet and a streaming-based fitness business. I planned to hit the billion-dollar mark by the time I turned thirty.

  The best part of my business was that I ran the whole deal from a home office I built onto my parents’ house. My meetings were held via video conferencing, and because of technology, I had an incredible staff. Working remotely actually gave me a massive pool of potential employees because I didn't care where my employees lived since everything we did was online.

  I supposed my own fitness and experience in danger zones is why the fire chief approached me about volunteering two years ago. Eventually, I agreed. This was my home town, and while the Haynesville supporters hadn’t always been kind to my family, everyone else had been. And with the Haynesvilles gone, all that bullshit of the feud was gone with them.

  So now I was heading up into the hills around Eden Lake to risk my life to help save my home town.

  “Here’s what we know so far about the fire,” Kirk Simmons, a lieutenant in the firehouse said to me, Josh Dalton, and two other firefighters in the truck with us. “The fire was noticed yesterday by a camper. The fire jumpers and first response teams were able to make fire lines along the fire road on the ridge, and the east and west.

  “So why evacuate Haynesville Ridge?” I asked.

  “Early this morning, the winds changed. They’re now blowing southeast.”

  I nodded. While a fire line along the ridge could contain the fire and fires generally burned faster going uphill, winds could blow embers across the road. That would allow the fire to burn down the Eden Lake side of the hill, taking all the homes in that area.

  “We’ve got helicopters dumping water from the lake, but they need help protecting the homes.”

  It was difficult to describe war to civilians. The same is true with fires. There is a hypnotic aspect to the awesomeness of fire, but also, it’s a deadly monster. It can burn fast, moving as much as seven miles per hour, faster in flat areas. It can change direction on a dime and jump across roads and rivers, flanking or surrounding those charged with containing it. And, it was as hot as fuck, even though nighttime temperatures here were usually in the mid to high forties in Eden Lake.

  I was a fit man, but it was one thing to run ten miles or bench press nearly three hundred pounds, and another to spend sixteen hours battling a fire. The fire was moving too fast for us to protect the homes higher on the ridge.

  “We should make the firebreak down along Meadow Drive,” I called out through my radio. “Newer construction means less debris, and the road is wide for a natural barrier.”

  “Do it,” came the response.

  My team and I headed down to Meadow Drive to build the firebreak and hopefully prevent the fire from crossing the meadow and reaching Eden Lake. By the time the fire was contained again, and we were heading back to town, it was the next morning, and I thought I’d sleep for days.

  “Too bad about Haynesville Ridge,” Josh said, looking back up the hill. He’d grown up in Eden Lake like me, but I hadn’t really known him, partly because he was two years younger than me, and partly because I was mostly invisible in high school, except for Willa noticing me. I’d been aware of him because his older brother, Wyatt was in my grade, while Josh was in the same grade as my brother Tucker. When I moved back to Eden Lake and became a volunteer firefighter, Josh had initially seemed like a player with little substance. Once he got involved with Allie Sinclair, he settled down a lot.

  I nodded. The area that once held homes now looked like a war zone. Most of the houses were now completely destroyed, along with most of this side of the mountain.

  I’d sought out Willa’s family home to check on it, just in case she had hung around. I made my way toward her home’s location. At one time, the house sat up on the ridge by itself. At that time, the Haynesvilles acted like rulers looking over their land. By the time I was ten, several more homes had dotted the ridge, and by yesterday, the ridge held an entire neighborhood. Now, much of that neighborhood was gone.

  Fires were often like tornadoes, in that they didn’t necessarily take out everything in their path. But you could try to make your home less susceptible by clearing out brush and debris around the house and using non-combustible materials, particularly on the roof, siding and deck, and screening vents and soffits. I suspect luck and prevention were both true for the two homes near Willa’s family’s house that were still standing while hers was nothing but ash and smoke. Down the ridge, more homes remained standing, but that was from our successful building of a firebreak along that road to contain the flames.

  I had animosity toward the Haynesv
ille family, but it was always difficult to see just the remains of a house left. A home might just be a structure, but within it were mementos and memories, all of which were now burned away. Just to be sure, I walked and poked around, even though I wasn’t supposed to, using a fireplace poker that was cool enough to hold through my gloved hand. I was about to give up when an object caught on the tip. Sifting through the ash, I found a part of a necklace. Most of the chain was gone, but the gold charm of the sun remained. Immediately I was brought back to when I was fourteen and started to have a crush on Willa. I’d bought that charm for her birthday. I’d wanted to tell her that I liked her more than friends, but didn’t have the guts. I had so many opportunities to tell her like two years later, when I got my driver’s license and took her for a drive. But for some reason, I didn't tell her. Or, when I was eighteen, and we were planning our futures, I should have told her, but I didn't. Then, that dumbass feud finally messed up our friendship.

  I tucked the charm in my pocket, as I considered tossing it back. Our friendship was as burned as this house. She’d left the charm behind ten years ago, so clearly, it wasn’t important to her.

  Idiot, I thought to myself as I patted my pocket to make sure it was there.

  As we arrived back at the station, I wondered if Willa had stuck around to find out if her home survived or not. I shook my head. She was probably back in L.A. Someone else could call her family and let them know. Hopefully, her dad still had proper insurance on the place. They hadn’t been back to Eden Lake in years, so for them, it might not be such a significant loss.

  I cleaned up at the station, so I reached my house and parked in my driveway. Then making my way to the front door, exhaustion and hunger were the two warring issues. I couldn’t decide which was more pressing; sleep or food.

  I stepped inside the craftsman style home that I’d completely renovated. It wasn’t as large or fancy as the Haynesville home perched on a mountainside. But it was in town which I liked. And it fit my needs.