was still clutching the kitten—through the window. Her breathing was labored, but at least she was breathing. Almost as soon as she’d disappeared, another helmet ascended and a pair of gloved hands reached out for the second victim.
Ethan joined McCrae, and together they dragged the woman the rest of the way to the window. Ethan swung her up in his arms, only then getting a glimpse of her blackened face and the tumble of thick, dark hair. Her lids fluttered and she stared up at him, her dark eyes filled with primal fear.
“Samantha?” Her voice was weak.
“We got your little girl. Is she the only one?” Don’t let there be more.
“Yes. Please save her.”
And in those brief seconds, just before he handed her off to another firefighter, Ethan felt a current run between them. Maybe it was just the adrenaline pumping through his body, but it nearly knocked him off his feet.
McCrae punched him in the shoulder and brought him back to his senses. They had more work to do.
They continued their search-and-rescue but found no other victims, alive or dead.
An airhorn penetrated the sound of the fire and rushing water. That was the signal to clear the premises.
“Move!” McCrae boomed. “This building could go any second!”
Ethan retreated the way he’d come in, through the window, with McCrae right behind him. A loud whoosh and a spray of sparks from the roof indicated a collapse at the other end of the structure.
As Ethan hit the ground, he looked back and up, anxious until he saw Priscilla and Otis emerge.
He spotted a few of the building’s residents, in nightclothes or with sheets wrapped around them, staring at the remains of their home with dazed looks on their faces. But the dark-haired woman and her daughter were nowhere to be seen.
They’d probably already gone to the hospital—maybe in Tony’s wagon.
He couldn’t worry about that now. There was lots more work to be done here.
“Basque!” McCrae yelled. “Help me with the ladder.”
For a few seconds, Ethan had forgotten his primary directive—to stick to his senior officer like Velcro. Thankfully McCrae was only a few feet away, and Ethan rejoined him. The aftermath of this fire would consume the rest of his shift. But so would thoughts of a pair of dark, frightened eyes.
* * *
BACK AT THE STATION, Ethan jumped down from the engine and peeled off his grimy turnout gear. He was pleased to see that his coat and pants now looked as filthy as everyone else’s. He would no longer stand out as a rookie.
It was almost 6:00 a.m. Only an hour left in Ethan’s shift. As he hosed off his gear and laid it out to dry, McCrae touched him on the shoulder. “Basque.”
“Yes, sir?” Ethan wondered what he’d done wrong.
McCrae wouldn’t meet his gaze. “You did good out there. You didn’t lose your head.”
A warmth spread through Ethan’s chest. “Thank you, sir.” Later, he would share a private, rowdier celebration with Tony and Pris. But McCrae’s brief praise was a victory.
The rookies had been assigned to this station under conditions that were trying at best. A few months earlier, three men from Station 59 had died in a warehouse fire. The tragedy had sent shock waves through all of Dallas Fire-Rescue—through the entire city, in fact.
If Ethan had heard it once, he’d heard it a dozen times. No one could fill the boots of those three men. Yet that was exactly what the rookies were trying to do. They’d faced undercurrents of resentment, and sometimes outright hostility, since they’d been assigned to the company two weeks ago.
No one wanted them here.
But Ethan would trust Tony and Priscilla with his life any day. He’d trained alongside them. He’d seen how hard they worked every day. He’d watched Pris struggle with the strength training, working hours and hours on her own time climbing ropes, carrying dummies over walls and down ladders. And Tony—well, Ethan and Tony had been watching each other’s backs since they were ten, when a gang of older kids had picked a fight with Tony after school. Ethan hadn’t thought twice—he’d jumped in swinging. And though he and Tony had both gotten the snot beat out of them, they’d become instant best friends.
The three rookies trusted each other, and they would simply have to earn the trust of the others, an inch at a time. This shift, Ethan had moved forward the first inch. He was willing to bet Priscilla had, too.
After showering and changing into clean clothes,