into the devouring flames.
“King, thank God! Where’s—”
Crew chief Chandra Boyleston turned to bark out an urgent command. “Man down here! There’s a man down here, dammit!” She switched her attention back to Tamara. “Silva wasn’t wearing his air-pack?”
“There’s a civilian in there, plus at least one 10-45 already.” Her own voice edged as she used the code that veiled the harshness of the word body, Tamara ignored her superior’s question. “Joey said he also saw a child, but the kid ran away from him. He was coming to get my flashlight when he…when it…”
She flicked a glance at the wall of fire dividing the hall. Bending down, she picked up her helmet from where it had fallen and crammed it onto her head.
“The civilian went in for the child. I’ve got to go after him.”
Without waiting for Boyleston’s reply she took off down the hallway, covering the lower half of her face with her glove as she got nearer to the roiling mass of crimson and orange. Beside her a wall burst into flame, but instead of increasing her fear, she felt an eerie calm settle over her.
“You want me. You want me, the man and the child,” she ground out. “You might get one of us. You might even get me and the man. But if there’s a child in there, either he or I will make sure you don’t take a life that hasn’t even had a chance to begin yet.”
Just ahead of her was solid fire. She took a last desperate breath, put on a final burst of speed and nearly stumbled in shock.
He came toward her from out of the flames. The sweatshirt had caught on fire and his face was a grease-smeared mask, but his stride didn’t falter. In his arms he carried a bundle tightly wrapped in sheeting, and from the steam that rose from it she guessed that the sheet, along with its precious cargo, had been doused with water only seconds before.
Red-rimmed gray eyes met hers as she ran to him, holding out her arms for the child. A corner of his mouth lifted, and right then and there the full force of his basic and overpowering maleness struck her like a blow.
Something sliced through her, as bright and as piercing as pain. Unable to tear her gaze from his Tamara simply stood, drinking in the sight of him.
Her first impression had been right, she thought shakily. He was a man who’d been to hell and back sometime in his past. He’d returned unhesitatingly to the inferno to save the life of a child or die trying.
“Smart little girl,” he rasped. “She was in the bathtub. She was holding this in her hand—wouldn’t leave until I promised to keep it safe. Then she fainted.”
Dragging the smoldering shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor, he peeled a piece of paper from his sweat-drenched chest and held it out to her.
“Bet you didn’t figure you’d end up right next to my heart when we met a few minutes ago, did you, honey?” he asked, his voice cracking with hoarseness. “Where the hell’s the hose crew, anyway?”
Taking one more step forward, he crumpled heavily to the ground, the photograph of a much younger Tamara King fluttering from his fingers.
Chapter Two
“Joey’s going to pull through.”
Tamara reached for a tissue from a box on the nursing station counter. Blowing her nose furiously, she turned away and dabbed surreptitiously at her eyes. “That—that’s great, Lieut. I—I was afraid he—” She cleared her throat. “When do we get to see him?”
“Not today. Not tomorrow, either, from what his doctor tells me.” The other woman’s features softened. “Hey…you don’t have to keep up the tough act with me, King. You and Joey are more than just partners, aren’t you?”
“What?” Tamara’s head jerked up. “Where’d you get that idea, Lieutenant?”
“It’s just us girls here right now, so make it Chandra,” Boyleston said dryly. She placed a hand on Tamara’s back, steering her away from the nursing station toward a group of potted plants by the waiting area. “That photo of you. It had to have fallen out of his helmet.”
“Out of Joey’s helmet?” Tamara stared at her. “You’re joking, right?”
“What’s tucked into the liner of yours?” Chandra wasn’t smiling. “You showed me once, so I know—a St. Florian medal pinned to the sweatband, a photo of your family taken before they died and a laminated four-leaf clover.”
“Half the jakeys in the country must have a St. Florian medal somewhere on their person.” Tamara’s tone took on an edge. “He’s the patron saint of our profession.”
“Yeah, the patron saint of jakeys, like you say.” The strong features relaxed momentarily at the slang term firefighters used to describe themselves. “And the shamrock’s for luck. But the photo keeps the people you love close when you’re on the job—most of the crew tuck a picture of a husband or a wife or a girlfriend in their helmet. Who knows why the child picked it up, but it must have fallen from Joey’s gear.” She frowned. “Unless there’s some connection between you and that little girl you haven’t told me about.”
“How would I know who she is?” Tamara shrugged before she remembered her sprained shoulder. It had been examined when she’d arrived here at Mass General three hours ago, but she’d refused any medication. “Until she gives us her name we don’t even know who her mother was, and like you told me earlier, she hasn’t said one word yet.”
“That’s not surprising.” Chandra’s expression was closed. “The doctor pegged her at about seven or eight, poor tyke—it has to be pretty rough on a little girl like that, seeing her mom dead and nearly dying herself. You sure you never saw her before, King?”
Tamara’s lips tightened impatiently. “She looks like a girl I went to school with a long time ago, for God’s sake. Except this kid’s got green eyes, and Claudia Anderson had blue.”
“That could be it. Maybe the child’s mother was this girlhood friend of yours, fallen on hard times and hoping to get in touch with you to see if you could help.”
“Your theory’s all wrong, Lieut.” Tamara pushed her hair back from her forehead. “Claudia was my best friend all through school and even after, but I haven’t seen her for years. The last I heard she’d gotten married.” She went on reluctantly. “Besides, I’d be the last person she’d want to see. The man she married was my fiancé. He literally left me standing at the altar and ran off with her.”
Boyleston’s eyes widened. “That must have been a blow,” she said softly. “Sorry I stirred up old memories, Tamara.”
Tamara saw the sympathy in the other woman’s eyes. “Hey, Lieut—I’m over it, okay? It happened a long time ago, and though I’ll admit it was pretty devastating to be jilted in front of a whole churchful of people, I went on to make a new life for myself. I even went through with the reception, sans groom, of course.”
Chandra grinned in startled amusement. “Jeez, girl, talk about ballsy. You threw the party without the wedding?”
“Threw the party, danced up a storm, drank too much and awoke the next morning with the first
