succeeded. “So I lost my composure.”
“Yep.” Graham climbed onto the fire truck, tossing his helmet onto the seat next to him. He grabbed two bottles of water and tossed one to Noah. “Fortunately, the press arrived late and didn’t see your show. What was that all about, anyway? I’ve never seen you that worked up around a woman.”
Noah unscrewed the lid and sat opposite Graham. He forced the image of Tricia’s face from his mind. She looked as beautiful as she had when he’d met her the year before. He’d been instantly smitten with the spunky lawyer…but couldn’t let himself think about that now. Not after the way she’d let him down. “Hope you’re right about the media.” He swiped the cool bottle against his forehead, ignoring Graham’s stare. “I keep waiting for it to get easier. You’d think it would after a year.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
“She was the attorney on the Lincoln Life case.”
Graham looked toward the house. “She’s cute.”
“I’d hoped she was more.” Much more. “But I was wrong.”
“Don’t push so hard. This was a simple outbuilding fire, and you barked orders like flames were engulfing the Cornhusker Hotel.”
“I acted crazy. She brings that out in me.” Noah ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced.
“No. A little overzealous, but it’s okay. Temper it. That’s all I’m saying.”
An hour later, the firefighters cleared the scene and headed back to the fire station. The rest of the shift dragged as Noah tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him, rather than Tricia Jamison.
That night, long after he should have been asleep, Noah lay in bed and couldn’t stop thinking about the prosecutor and the trial. Before he’d taken the stand, he’d had a dinner invitation planned for Tricia. Test the sparks between them. Then she’d let him down during what she’d said would be an easy cross-examination. He forced the memory from his mind, but thoughts of his father’s death marched into its place. His chest tightened at the memory of how close he’d gotten to saving his father, but not close enough. When the ceiling collapsed between them, he’d known he’d failed. Waited too long. Tried too hard to save everybody else. Failed to save his father’s life, and, thanks to Tricia Jamison, he hadn’t been able to salvage the man’s reputation, either. That he couldn’t forgive. No matter how beautiful she looked.
TWO
Friday
The next morning Barry Williams, the company officer, called Noah into his office. “Rumor has it you’re interested in learning fire investigation.”
Noah stood straighter. “Yes, sir.”
“Think you’ll have time?” Williams rocked back in his chair as he stroked his mustache. It looked more like a hairy caterpillar than a true mustache, but to each his own.
“Yes. I’d welcome the challenge, sir.” With his knee, he might need options. The thought galled him, but investigations might fill the void.
“Thought so. We’ve decided to start you with Investigator Brian Weary.” Noah nodded and turned to leave, trying to hide the excitement inside him. “And, Brust…”
“Yes?”
“Remember, you asked for this assignment. Weary isn’t the easiest man to deal with.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Weary’s irascible reputation preceded him, but Noah could handle it.
Noah closed the office door behind him and headed back to the holding area where several firefighters were killing time watching TV.
“Brust.” An angry voice yelled from behind him.
Noah turned to identify the speaker.
“Looks like your education is about to start.” Graham gestured to the doorway.
Noah stood and joined Weary in the doorway. “Noah Brust, sir.”
“I know who you are. So you think you’re ready to come off the truck?” The stocky, intense man stared at Noah. “I guess we’ll see. We’ve got a ton of work to do before the scene gets contaminated. I’ve been through the scene once, but there’s more to do. You’ll have to keep up.”
“I can do that.”
Weary snorted. “That’s what they all say. We’ll see if you can.” Noah began to reply, but Weary kept talking. “I understand you worked this fire.”
Noah froze. “The Randol fire?”
“That’s right.” Weary’s stare challenged Noah. “Is that a problem?”
“N-no, sir.” No, not a problem at all…except he’d land squarely in the path of the woman he’d spent half the night trying to force from his mind. Surely, the Lord wouldn’t want him to spend time with her.
He turned to leave the room, and his knee locked in place. He grimaced, grateful that Weary couldn’t see his face. What had he gotten himself into?
Tricia’s steps dragged as she stepped off the elevator and headed to her office in the City-County Building. After running out the previous day, she knew she’d have piled up phone messages and e-mails, but she couldn’t motivate herself to get started. Noah Brust’s hurt look invaded her mind.
How could ten minutes of interaction resurrect the pain where he was concerned? After working with him during trial prep, she felt certain he was interested in her. When the mere sight of him sent her pulse racing, she couldn’t hide her own attraction. Noah was strong, yet a hint of compassion peeked through as they talked.
He’d appeared so different from most men she knew. Maybe even on caliber with her big brother Caleb.
Then the trial had ended, and he’d squashed any hope of exploring the future together.
No, he’d handed her head to her as he stormed from the courtroom. She hadn’t heard from him since. Hadn’t even run into the man until the fire yesterday.
Tricia tossed her purse in a desk drawer and her briefcase on the floor. The chair groaned as she sank into it. She looked at her desk for inspiration. Yesterday’s newspaper lay open near the top. Tricia pulled it out and scanned the pages. She slowed when she reached the obituaries, praying she wouldn’t see a notice for one of her former clients. None of the names looked familiar until she reached the bottom of the page. Timothy Gillmore. He’d been six. No one should die that young.
Something bothered her about his name. Why did it tickle her memory? She skimmed the obituary and realized why it seemed familiar. The boy had been seriously injured in the Lincoln Life blaze. After the firefighters pulled him from the debris in the building, he’d been medevaced to Creighton University Medical Center in Omaha, but had never awakened from his coma. Hadn’t his family joined the lawsuit against the city and the fire department? Her thoughts spiraled back to the events she’d spent most of the previous night trying to forget.
The
