Page 1 of Shelter for Morgan

CHAPTER ONE

MORGAN

Morgan Rafferty pulled her little Kia into the parking lot of the fire station and smiled at the building. It was everything a fire house should be: stately, strong, and inspiring.

And the man that was walking in front of the building was a Fire Chief if she'd ever seen one.

Okay, he kind of reminded her of the Chief from Chicago Fire in the way he carried himself. Broad shoulders and an air of confidence and competence.

Yeah, this was the place.

Reaching out to grab up her purse, she pulled it off of the pile of stuff on the passenger seat and stepped out of the Kia with a smile.

Morgan looked up at the sky and grinned. It went on forever and ever.

"Hello!"

She turned around and saw a man approaching her. He wore glasses and had a pleasant expression on his face.

"Hey!" She waved at him and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'm looking for Palmer."

He tilted his head to the side and looked at her. "I'm sorry, who?"

Morgan licked at her lips, nervous. "Uh. Palmer Butler? He's a firefighter here at Station Seven."

By the look on the man's face, he didn't know who she was talking about.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her instinct was to open her purse and call her brother, but instead, she bit into her bottom lip as she tried to remember that nickname thing that Jacob told her to use.

"Umm... I think he's called Rhett?"

"Rhett?" The other man pushed his glasses up on his nose and grinned at her. "Yeah! Rhett Butler! He's not on this shift. He's off today."

"Oh!" She felt relief flood through her body, but she also felt like a complete idiot. "I'm sorry, I forgot that firefighters are on a twenty-four-hour thing."

He shrugged. "Are you a friend?"

"Old... Old friend."

He leaned back, confused. "You're not that old."

She sighed. "Some days I feel like I'm ancient."

He laughed softly. "I think I've felt that before. These days I'm just enjoying life." He gestured toward the open bay doors. "Do you want to come in out of the sun? You can sit down and call him if you'd like."

She turned back to look at her car and felt the ache in her backside from the hours and hours of driving she'd done.

The soda in the cup holder had gone flat an hour ago and she really, really wanted to walk a bit before thinking of getting back into her car.

"You know," she turned back to look at the man, "I think I'll take you up on that offer."

She walked toward him and shook the hand that he offered. "I'm Morgan Rafferty."

"I'm Sawyer McClay. You can call me Squirrel."

He started walking back toward the station house and she followed, walking easily next to him. "Squirrel, that's a cool name."

He chuckled. "I think so."

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