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It was one of those things she just dealt with because she loved her job.

      Sally leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Ross’s light blue gaze over the oxygen mask came to mind. She’d met Ross Lawson soon after she had moved to Austin and gone to work for the Austin Medical Emergency Service, the medical service arm that worked in conjunction with the fire department that shared the same stations and sometimes the same personnel when a fireman was also qualified to work the medical side. As an advanced paramedic, she was assigned Station Twelve, one of the busiest houses of Austin’s forty-eight stations. It just happened that it was the same station where her brother and Ross worked. She hadn’t missed that twinge of attraction when she and Ross had first met any more than she had this morning. But she had never acted on it and never would.

      A relationship, of any kind, was no longer a priority for her. She’d had that. Her brief marriage had been both sad and disappointing. Now she was no longer married, all she wanted to do was focus on getting into medical school. It had been her dream before she’d married, and it was still her dream. At this point in her life a relationship would just be a distraction, even if she wanted one. She was done making concessions for a man. Going after what she wanted was what mattered.

      The ambulance reversed with a beep, beep, beep. It alerted her to the fact that they had arrived at the firehouse. When they stopped, she hopped out onto the spotless floor.

      She loved the look of the fire station. It was a modern version of the old traditional fire halls with its redbrick exterior and high arched glass doors. A ceramic dalmatian dog even sat next to the main entrance. The firefighters worked on one side of the building and the emergency crew on the other. They shared a kitchen, workout room and TV room on the firefighter side. They were a station family.

      James had backed into the bay closest to the medical side of the building. The other two bays were for the engine, quint truck and rescue truck. They hadn’t returned yet. The company would still be at the warehouse fire mopping up. When they did return, they would also pull in backward, ready for the next run.

      Before she could even think about cleaning up and heading home, she would have to restock the ambulance and write a report. The ambulance must always be ready to roll out. More than once in the last year she’d returned from a call only to turn around and make another one.

      “Hey, Sweet Pea.”

      She groaned and turned to see Kody loping toward her. “I told you not to call me that,” she whispered. “Especially not here.”

      He gave her a contrite look. “Sorry, I forgot.”

      “What’re you doing here anyway?”

      “I left something in my locker and had to stop by and get it. My shift isn’t until tomorrow.”

      Sally smiled. She couldn’t help but be glad to see her older brother. Even if it was for a few minutes. He was a good one and she had no doubt he loved her. Sometimes too much. He tended toward being overprotective. But when she’d needed to reinvent her life, Kody had been there to help. She would always be grateful.

      “I heard that Ross was the hero of the day this morning.” He sounded excited.

      “Yeah, you could say that.” He’d scared the fool out of her.

      “You don’t think so?”

      Sally started toward the supply room. “He could have been killed.”

      Kody’s voice softened. “He knows what he’s doing. I don’t know of a better firefighter.”

      “He ran into a fully enveloped burning warehouse!” Sally was surprised how her voice rose and held so much emotion.

      “I’m sure you’ve seen worse. Why’re you so upset?”

      “I’m not upset. It just seemed overly dangerous to me. Instead of one person being hurt there, for a moment I thought it was going to be two. He has a bad case of smoke inhalation as it is.” She pulled a couple of oxygen masks off a shelf.

      “How’s he doing?” Kody had real concern in his voice.

      She looked for another piece of plastic line. “He’s at the hospital but he should be released soon. They were running a few more tests when I left.”

      “He’s bucking for a promotion, so I guess this’ll look good on his résumé. See you later.”

      “Bye.” She headed back to the ambulance with her arms full. She had no interest in Ross’s ambitions and yet, for some reason, his heroics had been particularly difficult for her to watch.

      Ross returned to the station a week after the warehouse fire. He had missed two shifts. The doctor had insisted, despite his arguments. He liked having time to work on his ranch but the interviews for one of the eight Battalion Chief positions were coming up soon and he should be at the station in case there were important visitors. Now that he was back, he needed to concentrate on what was ahead, what he’d planned to do since he was a boy.

      Thankfully the man he’d gone in after was doing okay. He would have a stay in the burn unit but would recover. Just as Ross and his grandfather had. Ross rolled his shoulder, remembering the years’ old pain.

      He’d hated to miss all that time at the station, but it had taken more time to clear his lungs than he had expected. Still, he had saved that man’s life. He didn’t advocate running into fully engulfed houses, but memories of that horrible night when he was young had compelled him into action before he’d known what he was doing.

      Memories of that night washed over him. He’d been visiting his grandpa, who’d lived in a small clapboard house outside of town. He’d adored the old man, thought he could do no wrong. His grandfather had taught Ross how to work with his hands. Shown him how to mend a fence, handle a horse. Most of what he knew he’d learned at his grandfather’s side. His parents had been too busy with their lives to care. So most weekends and holidays between the ages of ten and fourteen Ross could be found at his grandfather’s small ranch.

      The night of the fire, Ross had been shaken awake by his grandpa. Ross could still hear his gruff smoke-filled voice. “Boy, the place is on fire. Get down and crawl to the front door. I’ll be behind you.”

      The smoke had burned Ross’s throat and eyes, but he’d done as he was told. He’d remembered what the firefighter who had come to his school had said: “Stop, drop and roll.” Ross had scrambled to the door but not before a piece of burning wood had fallen on his shoulder. But the pain hadn’t overridden his horror. He’d wanted out of the house. Had been glad for the fresh air. He’d run across the lawn. It had been too hot close to the house. Ross had coughed and coughed, just as he had the other morning, seeming never to draw in a full deep breath. He’d looked back for his grandpa but hadn’t seen him. The fear had threatened to swallow him. His eyes had watered more from tears than smoke.

      Someone must’ve seen the flames because the volunteer fire department had been coming up the long drive. Ross had managed between coughs and gasps of air to point and say, “My grandpa’s in there.”

      The man hadn’t hesitated before he’d run toward the house. Ross had watched in shock as he’d entered the front door. Moments later he’d come out, pulling his grandpa onto the porch and down the steps and straight toward the waiting medics. It wasn’t until then that Ross had noticed the full agony of his back.

      Both he and his grandpa had spent some time in the hospital. They’d had burns and lung issues. His grandfather had been told by the arson investigator that he believed the fire had started from a spark from the woodstove. Ross only knew for sure he was glad his grandpa and he had survived. Regardless of what had started the fire, Ross still carried large puckered scars on his back and shoulder as a reminder of that fateful night.

      Last week, the moment he’d learned there was someone in the house he’d reacted before thinking. His Battalion Chief hadn’t been pleased.

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