Fired Up by Mary Connealy Page A

looked at her, calmly but without backing down.
    Finally she wilted. “What do you advise me to do, Luke?”
    Dare wondered if Luke had learned that trick since he’d gotten married. Dare memorized the exact expression on Luke’s face, planning to use it in his future dealings with the woman.

Chapter 7
    Glynna began what could only be described as an all-out assault on the bellies of Broken Wheel. Because it had been Dare’s idea, that might be something he would have to answer for at the Pearly Gates. On the other hand, it was going to be great for the doctoring business.
    Yet despite the terrible food, no man in town would ever think of missing a meal. Glynna was just too pretty. All she had to do was come out of that kitchen with her golden eyes, grace each and every man with one of her sweet smiles, and the men figured they’d gotten their money’s worth. Besides, none of them could cook worth a hoot, either. The difference being most of them had more sense than to try.
    Every morning and noon, Dare went to the diner for a meal. He liked a moment of Glynna’s attention as much as the next man. He was greeted by a crowd of men and billows of smoke. He had to hunt for a place to sit.
    The diner was a true success, if you didn’t count the food, and so far none of the men did. There was an endless parade in and out of Dare’s office each afternoon. Mostlydue to bellyaches. So Glynna was helping make Dare’s business more successful, too.
    These men kept him up late with indigestion complaints as well as glowing compliments about Glynna’s pretty face and sweet manner. After a hard day of treating their bellyaches, Dare fell into bed, exhausted. He was asleep in an instant, dreaming about halos of golden hair, bouncing roast beef, and thick black smoke wafting toward him like a rain cloud, which then rained silver coins down on his head like an avalanche.
    A loud crack jerked Dare awake. He smelled smoke, and considering his twisted-up dreams, it took him a while to realize he wasn’t smelling dinner.
    The smoke filled his lungs and started choking him, and he came fully awake to realize his house was on fire. He jumped out of bed and felt the heat coming up through the floor. Yanking on his britches, he snagged his boots and shirt but didn’t take the time to put them on as he rushed to his bedroom door. He grabbed for the knob.
    It was burning hot, and he snatched his hand back with a shout of pain. He knew, even in the pitch-dark, that his bedroom was filling with smoke. The cracking sound was something giving way, maybe the floor in the hallway. Then he saw a flicker of orange cutting through the smoke. Backing away from the door, he rushed to the bedroom window and flung it open. Flames shot up. This is where the light had come from—fire outside as well as in.
    His window was right above a small roof sheltering the front door, and that roof was engulfed in flames. Thecrackle turned to a roar as if the fire were a living beast, consuming his house to fill its belly.
    The floor he was standing on grew hot enough that, while he tried to think of a way out, he tugged his boots on, then his shirt so he could keep his hands free. By the time he was finished he was hacking, the smoke making his chest burn from within. He had to escape before the whole house collapsed under his feet.
    One more glance out the window told him that way was out of the question. There was only one other. He went back to the door, grabbed the tail of his shirt to protect his hand, and twisted the knob.
    Flames slammed the door open and exploded into his room. He staggered back and fell flat. A white-hot blaze shot over his head, straight for the window. Clawing his way backward, he saw he’d made a trail of fresh air to feed the fire.
    On his back now, he felt the boards hot beneath him, the fire already eating into the wood from below. As the floor heaved and the fire howled, Dare