Single Dad To The Rescue

He offered her help

And he found love

Her home destroyed by a wildfire, Brooke Ellis finds temporary shelter at the home of paramedic Dan Sawyer and his young son, Ben. With the addition of Brooke and her lively fur family, Dan finds his carefully planned routine delightfully turned upside down. And his carefully guarded heart daring to trust in love again. When his ex-wife suddenly reappears, will it be Brooke to the rescue?

CARI LYNN WEBB lives in South Carolina with her husband, daughters and assorted four-legged family members. She’s been blessed to see the power of true love in her grandparents’ seventy-year marriage and her parents’ marriage of over fifty years. She knows love isn’t always sweet and perfect—it can be challenging, complicated and risky. But she believes happily-ever-afters are worth fighting for. She loves to connect with readers. Please visit her website, carilynnwebb.com.

Also By Cari Lynn Webb

City by the Bay Stories

The Charm Offensive

The Doctor’s Recovery

Ava’s Prize

A Heartwarming Thanksgiving

“Wedding of His Dreams”

Make Me a Match

“The Matchmaker Wore Skates”

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Single Dad to the Rescue

Cari Lynn Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09747-5

SINGLE DAD TO THE RESCUE

© 2019 Cari Lynn Webb

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Brooke blinked and focused on him. “Dr. Porter needs to keep Archie at least another night. But he’s stable. Sophie called about Rex.”

Dan stumbled over his relief for a cat. Who was Rex? He had an image of a dog curled in the back of the kennel, more eyes than body.

Ben jumped up, worry flashing across the seven-year-old’s face. “What happened to Rex?”

“He isn’t doing well.” Brooke touched Ben’s shoulder. “Sophie had several more arrivals last night. Dr. Porter and Sophie think Rex needs to be someplace quieter where he’ll feel safe.”

“He’ll feel safe here.” Confidence puffed Ben’s chest out.

Ben’s absolute certainty softened Dan. That was all he’d ever wanted to give Ben: a safe home. One without chaos. One with stability and love.

Brooke shifted to look at Dan.

Again, her dark brown gaze pulled him in. Her wide soulful eyes called to him. Made him want to learn everything about her. Made him want...

Dear Reader,

I’m blessed to have dear friends, lifelong ones and others that feel as if they’ve always been in my life. These are the friends that might be three thousand miles away and yet you feel so close. The friends that know all your backstory—the good, bad and gray areas—and love you anyway. These friends become family and make life more balanced and so much richer.

Family and friends are a large part of the community in my City by the Bay Stories. Fortunately, this community helps my heroine, Brooke Ellis, rediscover the power of love and friendship. Brooke finally starts to heal from a painful past. My hero, Dan Sawyer, has been surrounded by his family and friends, yet he has learned to guard his heart. But love—and guidance from those who know Dan best—opens Dan’s eyes to a fulfilling life he only ever imagined. Together, Brooke and Dan learn that love can be even more precious the second time around.

I love to connect with readers. Check out my website to learn more about my upcoming books, sign up for email book announcements, or chat with me on Facebook (carilynnwebb) or Twitter (@carilynnwebb). Remember to hug your friends and family then thank them for making life special.

Happy reading!

Cari Lynn Webb

To Stacey—a best friend who quickly became family. You’re the sister I got to choose myself.

Special thanks to my editor, Kathryn Lye, for pushing me to become a better writer. I’m grateful. To Melinda and Anna for your continuous support. To my husband and daughters for your plot-twist suggestions that always make me laugh and disrupt my stress.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

“CAN I OFFER you a ride?” A man’s deep voice broke through Brooke Ellis’s stupor.

Brooke squeezed Luna’s dog leash and tried to squeeze a sense of composure through herself.

Why were simple questions the hardest?

Maybe they’d always been hard and that was why Brooke had chosen to live alone in the mountains of Northern California for the past five years.

Until two days ago.

Exactly fifty-two hours earlier, a wildfire had ripped through the forest, forced Brooke and her neighbors to evacuate and destroyed lives.

Brooke turned in her gravel driveway and stared at the older gentleman watching her from inside an oversize pickup truck.

He smiled and repeated his question, “Do you need a ride someplace?”

She stepped closer, found patience in his kind gaze and her answer. “I have no place to go.”

He got out of his truck and walked toward her—he was wearing a volunteer fire-and-rescue jacket. The man may have been older, but he towered over Brooke by at least a foot and seemed to understand his height might make her guarded. He knelt and held his hand out for Luna to sniff. “There’s a shelter set up in town. I could drop you off there.”

Brooke indicated the two pet carriers near her feet. Archie, her one-year-old cat, slept in one. The veterinarian hospital had to evacuate its patients and he’d been sent home too soon after his abdominal surgery. Inside the other carrier, Cupid meowed. “The shelter reached capacity last night and I have pets with special needs.”

“Do you have family nearby?” Luna rolled over onto her back, encouraging the man to rub her belly. He obliged the large but gentle German shepherd with a soft grin. “I could take you to a relative’s place.”

Another simple question. The answer wasn’t so easy. Brooke managed a quick shake of her head, enough to knock the tears back down inside her.

All she had left of her life was in a large black garbage bag beside her. The family members she had were the four-legged ones surrounding her. She clutched Luna’s long leash as if the leather anchored her.

The man rubbed his chin and stared at the blackened landscape behind her. Her house was nothing more than ash. Only the axle remained of her truck. The old diesel had refused to turn over and guide her to safety two nights ago. She’d had enough time to grab her animals and the one garbage bag from the truck bed, and cram into the waiting police cruiser. The roaring winds and fire-breathing sky had chased the police car down the mountain to the evacuation site.

“Do you have any plans?” the gentleman asked.

Brooke stared across the street at the decimated hillside. All her plans had been here. On the land. With her animals. Why had she hitched a ride back here when deep down she’d known? “I never imagined. I never planned for...” She lost her voice.

The same way she’d lost her voice five years ago. Only, then she’d been standing in the cemetery in San Francisco County. Beside her husband’s grave. The scent of roses and gardenias had been in the air. The grass under her black heels green. The sky a brilliant blue.

Now the air was gray. Ash shifted around them like singed snowflakes.

Nothing was the same except that insistent punch to her gut.

She’d rebuilt her life on this mountain. Wept against the old oaks, screamed her frustration to the sky, cursed Fate and slowly reconstructed her world bit by bit. Day by day.

How many times could one person rebuild? Did she even have the strength? Luna sat up and nudged her head under Brooke’s palm as if lending Brooke support.

“I lived almost thirty years in these mountains.” Sadness shifted through the man’s low voice. “This is the worst I’ve seen.”

“What am I supposed to do now?” Brooke spoke to the sooty air. She’d discovered years ago that Fate had a bad habit of refusing to answer.

“I can’t let you stay here. My wife, rest her soul, would be highly disappointed in me.” The man pulled out his cell phone and tapped on the screen. “They’ve opened another evacuation center. Let me take you there.”

“I’m just a stranger.” And she felt more and more lost—like she’d misplaced a part of herself—every second she stood there.

“Strangers don’t exist in moments like these.” He rose and held out his hand. “I’m Rick Sawyer.”

“Brooke Ellis.” She shook his hand, grateful for his firm grip. It steadied her.

“Well, Brooke, how about we get you and your pets someplace safe?”

Brooke nodded. The shelter would have water and a place to sit. Maybe if she sat, she’d find a clear thought. Surely one clear thought would lead to another. Then another. Perhaps by sunrise, she’d find a plan.

Rick picked up the pet carriers and walked to the truck. Brooke lifted her garbage bag and whistled for Luna to follow.

The devastation outside the truck windows—on every street they drove on—clogged her throat and stole her words. Brooke concentrated on breathing. And repeated to herself that she had her life and her pets. That was more than enough. Fortunately, Rick looked as lost in his own thoughts as Brooke. Neither of them seemed inclined to carry on a conversation.

Too many miles of scorched land later, Rick pulled into the community-center parking lot and helped Brooke with her pets and single bag of belongings.

“Hey, Captain.” An older woman with a baseball cap and orange volunteer vest sat at a folding table outside the community-center entrance.

“Evening, Darla.” Rick motioned to Brooke beside him. “Have room for one more and her fur family of three?”

“I’m so sorry, dear.” Darla’s frown amplified the apology in her tone. “The animal rooms are full. They evacuated Cedar Ridge and Pine View Estates two hours ago. We’ve already overextended capacity with the last family of ten that just checked in.”

“Can I camp on the lawn?” Brooke had spent two nights at the other site outside in a borrowed tent. She’d returned the tent to the family as more of their displaced relatives had arrived for shelter.

“We ran out of tents this afternoon.” Darla shuffled her paperwork.

Rick rubbed his chin. “Heard of any open hotel rooms?”

Darla shook her head. “The hotels that haven’t been evacuated are full with residents from the nursing homes.”

Brooke swayed. Numbness, rather than panic, seized her.

“Certainly, we can find someplace.” Uncertainty flickered through Darla’s small attempt at a smile.

“We’ve got an empty in-law apartment at my son’s house and a grandson who loves animals,” Rick offered. “You’re welcome to use the place.”

They were all barely on a first-name basis. How could he open his own house to her? Just like that. Besides, Brooke helped herself. Relied on herself.

“If you aren’t going to take the captain up on his offer, honey, I have quite a few families inside that will.” Darla dipped her head toward the building. “They’d love a hot shower and their own bedroom tonight.”

“I just...” Brooke began.

Darla adjusted the brim of her hat and squinted at Brooke. “Are you alone, honey?”

Brooke nodded.

Darla never hesitated. She rounded the table and clutched Brooke’s cold hands. “I’ve got nine fire stations in the county and over one hundred firefighters who will vouch for Captain Sawyer and his family. The Sawyers are good people, honey. The kind you don’t find much anymore. You’ll be safe with them.”

“Appreciate the endorsement, Darla.” Rick looked at Brooke. “We’re just a hardworking family that likes to help when we can.”

“Your son won’t mind?” Brooke asked.

Rick shook his head. “We discussed it when the fires broke out. The place is yours if you want it.”

“Or I’ll offer it up inside.” Darla squeezed Brooke’s fingers and whispered, “Take the offer.”

Simple kindness was a rare gift. Hard to repay, but Brooke intended to try. “I can pay rent. I promise I won’t stay long.”

Darla gave Brooke’s hands one more encouraging squeeze and released her.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” Rick hugged Darla and told her that he’d be back within the next day.

“Take this for her.” Darla handed Rick a packet of paperwork and a small bag. “It’s an overnight-essentials kit and a checklist for what to do after a fire.”

Brooke settled the pet carriers in Rick’s truck and climbed into the front passenger seat. “You’re a captain?”

“Retired fire captain.” Rick switched on her seat heater. “I worked at Station Twelve for most of my career.”

That explained why he was in the area, volunteering and helping people like Brooke.

“Retirement took me off the mountain and in a new direction,” he said.

“Do you miss living on the mountain?” she asked.

“I miss nature’s quiet solitude, but I love being with my grandson and son.” Rick pulled out of the parking lot. “After my wife passed, it never felt the same up here.”

Brooke wondered if she’d ever feel the same again. Normal again. Nothing felt familiar, not even her worn running shoes and old sweatshirt.

Her muscles unknotted against the warm seat and forced a yawn out of her. She mumbled an apology and tried to swallow her next yawn.

“Might as well settle in.” Rick turned onto the ramp for the interstate. “We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us.”

Brooke rubbed her eyes. “I never did ask where your son’s place is.”

“San Francisco,” Rick said. “Far enough so you can breathe in some fresh air and gather your thoughts.”

Brooke stiffened. Rick was wrong. So very wrong.

She couldn’t think in the city. She couldn’t breathe in the city. Not since...

“I can’t.”

She turned toward Rick, intending to tell him to take her back to the shelter.

“It may look impossible now.” His hand, warm and gentle, settled over hers. “But everything looks better after a good night’s sleep.”

A good night’s sleep. Brooke hardly remembered what that felt like. Most days she felt like she hadn’t slept in years. She closed her eyes. Concentrated on the quiet truck cab and the comfort in Rick’s simple touch. She was returning to the city. To a stranger’s house. To a past she never wanted to face again.

She’d stay the night and leave first thing in the morning.

CHAPTER TWO

DAN SAWYER STOOD in line at Zig Zag Coffee House waiting to pay for his order and stared at the name flashing across his phone screen: Valerie.

His stomach hardened and his jaw clenched as if he was preparing to absorb the abrupt attack of an assailant. He’d accept every shot, especially from Valerie, if that protected his son.

His ex-wife had decided six years ago that traveling the world was more of a priority than her marriage and her four-year-old son. Her last video-chat attempt with Ben had been after the New Year—almost eight months ago. Even that had been cut short after a poor connection interrupted the call too many times.

Valerie’s current call dropped into the missed-call list like so many things she’d missed in Ben’s life: his first day of kindergarten, his first soccer goal, his first time riding a big-kid bike. Visits from the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Every year brought something new to celebrate and something unknown to guard against. Mismanaging Ben’s juvenile diabetes wasn’t an option.

Ben and Dan had worked too hard to overcome the obstacles of Ben’s autoimmune disease. Ben was in a good place. A healthy place.

Nothing, and no one, would disrupt that.

“Stare at your phone any harder, you’ll miss the world going on around you.” The all too familiar gruff voice and laughter-wrapped scold ended Dan’s stalemate with his phone, as if he’d been ordered to stand down.

“Dad.” Dan glanced at the older man, who matched him inch for inch. Those knots loosened inside him. “What are you doing here?”

“Ben is fine. Numbers were perfect this morning and he even tested himself.” His father put a hand on Dan’s shoulder and squeezed. “Dropped Ben off at school with his book report and completed poster board just a little while ago.”

That still didn’t explain his father’s unexpected arrival. His dad always claimed he preferred his own home-brewed coffee to the fancy, overpriced coffee houses in the city.

“It’s Tuesday.” His dad waved his hand around the trendy coffee house. “You always stop here before you drive Ava to her classes.”

Every Tuesday for the past six months, Dan left work, picked up his best friend, Ava, and dropped her off at school. It’d started by accident. Ava had called for a ride after her fiancé’s car broke down while Kyle was on the East Coast. They’d just carried on after that. The perfect time for the two longtime friends to catch up. Most recently the drive had been paired with party planning for their friends’ joint bachelor-and-bachelorette party, an event that Dan had convinced Ava they should put together as members of the wedding party.

But his father never came with Dan on Tuesday mornings. Or visited this particular coffee house. Not once in the past four years since he’d been living with Dan and Ben. Dan scanned his father, from his deep red hair to his weathered face and worn work boots. “Are you okay?”

“Never better.” His dad sipped his coffee, which looked suspiciously similar to a white-chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream. “I brought home an evacuee late last night. Nice lady with a kind heart.”

That news could’ve been delivered via text. Dan searched his dad’s face, eyeing his neck as if Dan could read his father’s pulse. His dad stirred the whipped cream into his coffee with a wooden stirrer as if he wanted to design a picture in the liquid. “Thought you might want to know that she has pets.”

“Pets,” Dan repeated. “As in plural.”

His dad nodded.

That was definitely bad news. The type of news that could disrupt things at their house.

Dan had told Ben that he was allergic to animals to keep from having to get a pet. He’d started the white lie the year after Valerie had left. Dan had been afraid a pet would be too much for them; there was enough for him and Ben to get used to without adding the responsibility of a pet. After all, Ben’s illness wasn’t the flu or an appendix surgery that he’d recover from. Juvenile diabetes was an autoimmune disease that Ben would deal with his entire life. It required strict management every day. Thanks to help from Dan’s parents and Valerie’s mom, Dan had gotten Ben’s juvenile diabetes under control and adjusted to his role as single parent. One year later, his mom had died suddenly, his dad had moved in and Dan’s world had shifted again. Then Ben had started school and the truth about Dan not really being allergic to animals never came out.

But it wasn’t a big lie. Valerie had lied in her wedding vows: promising to love Dan until death did them part. Dan’s phone vibrated. Once again Valerie’s name claimed the caller ID.

“Our tenant has three pets to be exact. Shelters were full. Hotels, too. Couldn’t leave Brooke alone to fend for herself.” Rick settled his shrewd gaze on Dan and shook his head. “That’s not the Sawyer way.”

No. The Sawyer way was to always help. Even if it meant letting go. Like Dan had done with Valerie.

Their marriage had ended over couriered paperwork, stamped with international postage, and no disputes. Dan had gained legal and physical custody of Ben. Valerie had gained her freedom.