LITMIR.BIZ

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nodded. “Then if I can remember how to perform rescues with a hoist basket without plunging to my death, I’ll be there too.”

      Vince laughed. “You’ve been sitting behind a desk rescuing your solitaire games too long is my bet.”

      Petrowski’s laugh infiltrated the air. A sound seldom heard the past couple years. “Not solitaire. FreeCell. It’d do me good to get back in the real game. With you guys.”

      Heavy silence ensued as the men tossed glances of respect toward Petrowski. He’d lost his wife tragically two years ago and hadn’t been on the field since. He’d taken time off to regroup and be there for his boys. No one blamed the new widower and suddenly single parent of twin babies for backing out of the dangers that came with pararescue.

      Now, Petrowski was trying to do everything in his power to keep Nolan on the team. And that meant coming back.

      “We can manage without you. Your call, though,” Nolan said.

      “Real question is, could you manage with me faster?”

      Nolan tossed him rope and a set of gloves. “Absolutely.”

      Petrowski donned the gear. “Let me brief the pilots and Central Command, and I’ll be down there.”

      They secured headsets, by which they’d communicate. Test clicks sounded. His team would work together like a well-oiled machine gun. Rapid. Precise. Ready for any complication. And, as with any mission, there’d be at least one.

      “Showtime. Let’s go.” Nolan stepped over the edge. Pave Low hovering above, the team, stringed like black beads on a silver strand, hoisted to the barely-there bridge. Once flat-booted on it, they circled their temporary leader for instructions, then commenced duty.

      A barge with firemen and trucks extinguished blazes and sprayed cooling chemicals on the tanker. Nolan quickly cleared his area. Near the checkpoint, he found Vince and Petrowski.

      “River Guard divers have it under control there.” Vince scanned the water. “I’m hanging back to be sure though.”

      “Aaron and I are heading to the other side to make sure they got all the kids to safety. Meet us at the DZ debrief later.”

      Vince gave a thumbs-up symbol. Nolan signaled the pilots to drop hoist ropes. He locked his legs around it and held on as it went airborne, dangling Nolan and Aaron across the chasm of destruction. Closer, Nolan peered through high-powered military binoculars at the remnant of people.

      His eyes lit on one, surrounded by a handful of children. He blinked. Nearly slipped. He tightened his grip on the binoculars. Shock jolted through him.

      Mandy? Memories assaulted him.

      The woman looked exactly like his high school sweetheart. The one his dreams had never let him release. The one no other woman competed with in his heart. Looks like her but it can’t be, his mind mumbled, fumbled with the possibilities of this happening. She looked familiar enough to elicit an old ache. Yet different enough for doubt to detonate the crazy notion.

      His Mandy smiled more. This woman’s frown seemed set in stone and engraved on her face.

      Except when she tended to a huddle of children. The granite softened. Granted, she’d just been in probably the most harrowing ordeal of her life. But the underlying sadness cloaking her face was different. The longevity of lines pulling her mouth into a frown had been there awhile. A long while. Like she hadn’t smiled in forever.

      The helicopter hovered near the split. The pilot lowered Nolan directly above where tons of concrete entombed cars…and people so he could call an “all clear” of the area. His soles brushed the broken bridge. The broken bridge brushed his soul. He let go of the hoist and unclamped the safety latch. Pausing to wait for Aaron, Nolan scanned the shredded waterway for the woman he’d seen from the air.

      The woman who looked like Mandy. Good, they’d gotten her, the teachers and remaining children off the bridge. After calling “all clear” into his headset, he signaled the pilot to take him to the drop point, a nearby parking lot.

      Once down, he jogged over. Awesome. All the children looked uninjured. She talked while assessing them. Her voice was as he remembered. Deeper maybe. Dark hair escaped a frazzled twist at her neck. Her hand patted it, her efforts only loosening hair from the stylish utensil holding it. Nolan smiled. Until he saw her other hand. The left angle indicated fracture. Yet she worried with her hair. Typical Mandy. If this was indeed her. Only one way to find out.

      He nodded to the child she faced and approached her from the back. Petrowski strode past to where Chance knelt, securing a respiratory mask to a wheezing child while Brock held him.

      “How’s it going over here?” Nolan asked.

      The woman jerked at his voice. Had to be her. Only one way to be sure.

      Nolan spoke their secret code.

      Chapter Two

      “Manda Panda,” a voice said softly behind her.

      Mandy’s spine stiffened. Children giggled. She froze. Military-buzzed heads lifted to stare.

      Again, the voice from moments before, and years before, suctioned the last pocket of air from her lungs.

      No one had called her that in ten years. Ten.

      Not possible. Can’t be him. Can it?

      Warmth radiated from a presence behind her. Slightly ragged breathing. Maybe hers and not his. Hard to tell. She felt like she orbited in a pre-surgical anesthesia vortex all of a sudden. She inhaled deep, cleansing breaths and forced the shock from her face and neck. She used every ounce of strength to slowly turn around.

      The instant his eyes lit on her face, his mouth slid open.

      He stared.

      Mandy stared.

      Though he was more filled out and his impressive frame was that of a man instead of a boy now, she’d know him anywhere.

      “Nolan?” He had to notice her voice sounded like a ventilator gone bad. She hated the breathlessness. Despised the tears stinging at the sight of him. The welcome sight.

      No.

      Only because he’s a rescuer. Not because he’s Nolan, the only man you’ve ever loved.

      Eyes as kind as she remembered explored first her face, then her body, but not in a sensual way. He seemed unable to speak for a moment. Or blink.

      “Manda Panda?” It awed out as a whisper.

      The spoken name streaked emotional pain through her.

      She didn’t want to hear it. No one had the right to call her that anymore. Especially not him.

      She lifted her chin. “Mandy.” She hadn’t meant it to be so curt.

      Hurt fluttered in his eyes. Then confusion. Disappointment. Concern. Maybe even a little irritation.

      He stepped toward her. Ran a hand over his dark-blondish buzz and left it there as he took another slow step. He blew out a forever breath. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

      He didn’t blink or take his eyes off her. His gaze reached her hand. “You’re hurt.” He took another step toward her.

      Her muscles stiffened. Cold. Be cold. This is the man who broke your heart and never looked back. Never called, never—

      She stood rigidly and lifted her shoulders. The way she did when she wanted to look in control, in charge, and professional at the hospital. When she called a cardiac arrest code and needed family and nurses carrying her out her lifesaving orders to believe she knew exactly what she was doing. Though she might be scared crazy. No one else needed to sense the emotion inside. Things went better for everyone that way.

      He glanced around. “All children were removed okay?”

      She

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