With Courage And Commitment

Harlan Gray—The dedicated fire chief will go to the wall for his men; the only thing he can’t do is escape a pursuing councilwoman.

Councilwoman Evie Anderson—Has her eye on the most eligible widower in town, Chief Gray, and is gaining ground.

Emma Jean Witkowsky—The dispatcher has an uncanny way of predicting the future, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.

Tommy Tonka—An adolescent genius when it comes to mechanical things, but he needs help from his firefighter friends when it comes to girls.

Mack Buttons—The station mascot, a five-year-old chocolate Dalmatian who loves kids, people and the men of Station Six.

Contents

Chapter One (#u8ee082a2-8ab8-52fa-97b6-856e4915a8c4)

Chapter Two (#u08699e88-a1c4-59bd-972d-f2c0770d404f)

Chapter Three (#u37cd626b-2ca5-56d1-b1ff-b04d1fd8ad81)

Chapter Four (#u30103ded-fe2f-5170-98b1-612897bb4db3)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

Siren wailing, Engine 62 roared out of the station house and turned onto the main street of Paseo del Real in central California.

Riding backward behind the driver, Danny Sullivan tightened his shoulder harness, aware of the pleasant hum of adrenaline flowing through his veins. This is what a firefighter lived for—a chance to use his training. To put a little wet on the red, to douse a fire with water or foam.

“This could be a bad one,” his buddy Greg Wells in the adjacent seat commented. “Dispatch said it was a preschool.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Danny didn’t relish the thought of kids trapped in a structure fire, scared, maybe even hysterical. Definitely hard to manage. Rescue would be the first order of business. “Let’s hope they have sprinklers and that they worked.”

Looking relaxed, Wells settled into his seat. “I was kinda hoping they’d have a couple of cute teachers.”

Chuckling, Danny nodded his agreement. Between the two of them, he and Greg had an ongoing competition to see who got the first date with any good-looking single woman they happened to rescue from a fire. So far they were neck and neck. It was time for Danny to apply a little pressure, prove the Irish were head and shoulders above any Englishman—three generations removed or not—when it came to romance.

The engine peeled off the main drag of town onto a side street lined with small businesses and drab apartment houses, then pulled to a stop in front of a one-story structure with a fenced yard filled with kid’s play equipment. Gray smoke drifted up from the back half of the building, a good omen suggesting things weren’t totally out of hand. The brightly painted sign over the front entrance read Storytime Preschool.

With a flick of his wrist, Danny released his harness, grabbed his air pack and hopped down from the cab. He headed to the back of the truck for the hose.

“Thank goodness you’re here!” a woman cried. “We have to get them out.”

He turned, had a fleeting glimpse of short brown hair, a familiar face and the flash of a bright yellow blouse before she raced away toward the front door of the building.

“Stephanie?” When the heck had she come back to town?

He cursed and ran after her. Kids still had to be inside. Otherwise the fire chief’s daughter would have more sense than to go running into a burning building. But then, growing up on the same block where she lived, Danny knew Stephanie Gray could be damn mulish when she made up her mind about something.

He took the porch steps in one leap and burst through the open door. “Stephanie! Where are you?” A fire alarm was still ringing off its mount but there wasn’t much smoke, only the lingering acrid scent of burning wood and fabric. The sprinklers must have done their job. But no sign of kids, either, only building blocks and toy trucks hastily abandoned in the middle of the room.

“In here! Help me!”

He followed the sound of her voice toward the back of the house, his heart pumping.

“Oh, the poor little things,” she cried. “Hurry.”

God, he dreaded what he’d find. Injured kids were the worst. He could only hope he was in time to—

She thrust a small metal cage into his arms. “Take Arnold outside. I’ll bring Polly. We’ll have to try mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

“We’ll what?” Dumfounded, he stared at the cage. My God, she’d handed him a hamster, who was lying motionless on his side in a pile of wood shavings. “What about the kids?” He whirled, looking for an unconscious child curled up in a corner. Or a hot spot the sprinklers hadn’t entirely cooled.

“They’re fine.” With her arms around a matching cage, she shoved him back toward the front of the house. “They’re all outside at our assembly point.”

“You’re telling me—” She’d risked her neck—and his—for a couple of hamsters? Somehow, it figured.

Greg and Jay Tolliver from Engine 61 brushed past him, pulling a length of two-inch hose through the building as he went out the door. Their gazes rested on the cage he gripped in his hand.

“Great rescue, Sullivan,” Greg said, grinning. “Way to go!”

So great, Danny was likely to get razzed about this for months. At least until somebody else at Station 6 did something equally heroic.

“Hurry up.” Stephanie placed the cage she was carrying on the ground well away from the refurbished house, kneeling beside it. “The poor little things can’t be without air long.”

“You really expect me to give a hamster mouth-to—”

The expression she shot him practically made him bleed. If he didn’t do this, he’d be toast in the department. Not that her old man would do anything overt, but Stephanie was the chief’s daughter. Hell, Danny hadn’t even known she was back in town. Last he’d heard she was in San Francisco. Just his luck she’d shown up here during his shift, in the middle of a fire, with a frazzled hamster needing kissy-face resuscitation.

With a muttered curse, Danny lifted Arnold out of the cage. Damn, he’d never live this one down.