CHAPTER ONE
Present day
Malcolm “Smithy” Smith had been a firefighter and EMT for nearly a decade. The job was tailor-made for him: the perfect mix of excitement, planning, and variety. Nothing compared to the rush he got when he raced off to a scene—the danger was always lurking, but it wasn’t front of mind.
It was rewarding. It was challenging. It was everything.
“Yo, Smithy!” Javier “Javi” Ortiz called from the opposite side of the bullpen.
“Yeah, Ortiz?” Malcolm asked, not looking up from the report he was typing up.
He and his buddy were part of an arson investigation that was heating up—pun unfortunately intended.
A series of fires had sprung up all over Pinegrove, from residential developments to the retail district.
Their captain, an inept man who got the job through nepotism, hadn’t given the investigation the support it deserved.
Scott Hastings was a tool, but Malcolm never skirted a commanding officer. Even morons like Hastings ...
Javi walked over to Malcolm’s desk, leaning against it and yawning. His dark hair was slicked back and perfectly styled, a feat for anyone who wore a helmet on the job. “I’ve been thinking ...” he said, scratching his jaw.
“That’d be a first,” Malcolm quipped. Javi discreetly flipped him the bird before snatching a peanut butter cup off Malcolm’s desk. “Hey,” he argued, but it was too late. Javi had already unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth.
“Maybe next time you’ll be nicer, man.” Javi winked, lips covered in peanut butter.
Malcolm went back to his typing, hoping Javi would take the hint. No such luck. “Other than stealing my snacks, you need something, Ortiz?”
Javi tipped his head back and forth in thought. After swallowing his stolen snack, he said, “I’ve been looking at the accelerants used, and I think ...” but he didn’t get to finish his thought, because the alarm sounded.
Five-alarm fire called in, Warehouse District. EMTs requested.
Dispatch blared through the speakers, the team already on their way to the garage and jumping into their gear. Malcolm’s heart rate kicked up, but only a little. He was ready as he slid behind the wheel of the ambulance. Tiffany Maxwell, one of the rookies, was hot on his heels.
A young mother of two, Maxwell was no-nonsense. She made it perfectly clear she was one of the guys, and she’d happily punch anyone in the nuts who disagreed. He’d never admit this to Javi, but she was Malcolm’s favorite partner.
“Ready, Smithy?” she asked as she buckled in, helmet smothering her sandy hair.
Malcolm shot her a thumbs-up as he switched on the sirens and turned onto the main road. It was evening, and fortunately most of the rush hour traffic had died down. Or as much rush hour traffic as Pinegrove, Georgia, got with less than ten thousand residents.
Maxwell chatted with dispatch as Malcolm sped to the Warehouse District.
Even before they arrived, Malcolm had a feeling this fire was tied to the series of arsons they were investigating.
It was too suspicious and too coincidental, but he’d worry about the logistics later.
Right now, he needed to get to the scene.
Hopefully he and Javi could talk to Hastings about their investigation before the end of their shift.
Parking the ambulance on the curb, he radioed the main truck that he and Maxwell were ready to attend to the injured. “I’ll check the south perimeter,” Maxwell said as she hopped out and jogged away, her bunker gear clattering with each step.
Malcolm went to work getting the gurney ready, all the while listening to chatter on the intercom. A few moments later, Javi and Trevor arrived. “Smithy!” Trevor barked, running up in his gear. His voice was muffled through his helmet.
“Maxwell went south. I’m going to join her out the back.”
It was the last thing Malcolm said before he ran into the fire, flames licking up the walls, smoke billowing all around him. He scanned the space, fortunately not finding anyone else. Using his flashlight, he swept it across the room, but the smoke was thick.
Creaking and groaning echoed around him, and Malcolm was careful of his steps as he paced into the second room.
Again, no one was in sight as he continued into a far corner.
Just as soon as he stepped through a doorway, a loud crashing sound reverberated, a chunk of ceiling crashing at his feet.
Singed wood and crumbling drywall added dust to the smoke, making visibility nearly impossible.
Malcolm licked his lips, pulse skyrocketing, about to call out to the crew when a log-like structure fell directly on Malcolm, pinning him to the floor.
The force knocked the wind from his lungs, but he didn’t panic yet.
He was in his gear, his team knew where he was.
They were all prepared; it would be fine.
For the first few minutes, no one came. Blinking through the smoke and tears, Malcolm struggled to slow his breathing, fought to keep his cool.
Yet, the minutes ticked by and help didn’t arrive.
This warehouse was in a remote part of town, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other lives to save. He knew his crew was doing their job.
Their job, his job. It was the biggest joy of his life.
Of course, there was something else that brought him joy, and he’d give anything to see Jessie one more time.
If this was the end, that would be the bigger tragedy, not being able to say goodbye.
Not being able to hear her laugh, to feel her in his arms . ..
The very last thing Malcolm thought about as he closed his eyes was his girl, her warm smile welcoming him to rest. As the smoke wafted around him, he reached out with his free hand, eager to get a touch of her smooth skin. He only hoped she knew how much he missed her, how much he still loved her.
As another chunk of ceiling fell at his feet, faint voices approached Malcolm’s prone form. “He’s over here,” yelled Javi, urgency coating his hoarse cries. “Smithy’s over here!”
“Are you sure? I don’t see his reflective gear!” Trevor called out, stomping around a pile of debris.
Malcolm closed his eyes and smiled, reassured that his friends were here at the end. He also took comfort knowing that Trevor would take care of Jessie; she was his little sister after all. She would be okay, he mused as he passed out from the pain.
She had to be.
*
Jessie Mays had been working for the Peace Corps for nearly a decade.
She’d always loved the comradery of her coworkers, the selflessness they shared while serving.
But she also loved the variety. Depending on the location, she could be working with kids and teachers on educational initiatives, building houses and schools, or helping towns struggling with critical water shortages.
There was always something new, always something different.
Currently she was stationed in South America on an agricultural mission. She was tasked with helping a village start over after a devastating series of fires. Forests and farmland had been demolished by Mother Nature, and Jessie was part of a team to support the farmers.
When she first arrived, Jessie couldn’t help but see the parallels to her and Malcolm’s jobs.
As she walked through fields of soot, she thought about Malcolm—and her brother and their father before—who put out fires like this for a living.
They put their lives in danger constantly to ensure their neighbors were safe.
It was noble, and it fit her ex to a tee.
Jessie strode out of her tent, clipboard under her arm and slathered in sunscreen and bug spray. Ahead her supervisor, Noel, spoke with one of the farmers about crop placement.
Noel was older than Jessie by about ten years. He’d been working for the Peace Corps since he graduated high school, and he showed no signs of changing careers. He was what Jessie aspired to be, management with more of a say on his projects.
After shaking hands with the farmer, Noel turned to Jessie. “There you are, Jessie. I was chatting with Gael, and we’re debating between sugar cane and beans for this plot of land. I’d love to pick your brain over breakfast.”
Noel strode ahead, toward their series of tents.
His blonde hair was tucked under a Panama hat, his fair skin bronze from the sun.
Jessie’s own skin had turned a golden caramel color, bringing her freckles out in force.
She’d learned to keep her hair shorter during her missions, and it was currently hidden beneath a bandana.
Once they were inside, Noel kicked out a chair and motioned for Jessie to join him.
She eagerly slid into her seat, placing her clipboard on the table.
Fingers trembling, she tucked them under her legs until Noel met her gaze.
She’d been hungry for an opportunity to lead more ventures, and she prayed her boss was about to deliver good news.
“You want some coffee or anything?” he asked, reaching across the table for a carafe of coffee.
Jessie nodded and he poured them two cups.
The best part of this particular assignment was this coffee; grown and roasted mere miles from where they sat, it was rich and flavorful.
Not the stuff she’d usually add a vat of cream and sugar to.
This was mellow and smooth, the perfect wake-up call.
When she knew her hands wouldn’t shake, Jessie picked up her cup and sipped while Noel updated her on the project.
“As you know,” he said, opening up a folder and shuffling around papers.
“We expect to wrap up this project within the month. Then we’ll all have a break back in the states before we can apply for our next placements. ”
Jessie nodded, sipping her coffee and hoping she could blame her bouncing foot on caffeine jitters. “Yes, sir.”
Noel smiled, chuckling as he clicked his pen. “C’mon, Jessie. You can call me Noel. I’ve been your supervisor for years now, and we’re beyond the formalities.”
“Yes, sir. I mean, Noel!” she practically shouted, her cheeks flaming.
He downed his coffee in two long gulps, placing the mug on the table and sliding it to the side. “I wanted to talk to you about a potential opportunity. There are no guarantees anything I’m about to say will get approved, but I thought we should talk.”
“Okay.” Jessie’s voice was barely a whisper. Her heart galloped in her ribcage, and she feared if she spoke again it would either be a yelp or a scream. Nerves on fire, her pulse pounded; this could be the big break she’d been waiting for. “You think there’s a promotion opportunity?”
“I do,” Noel answered, handing her a sheet of paper with a job description. “Again, I need to stress that nothing is even official. We have to see what happens with budgets and the board, but there should be at least two opportunities to lead teams next year.”
“Really? Two opportunities?” she parroted, not believing her ears. Supervisory roles did not come up often, and when they did, it was usually one position that had already been earmarked for someone with connections.
Adjusting his hat, Noel leaned back in his seat. “I’ve been very impressed with you for a while, Jessie. You’re dedicated, you’re fearless, and you lead by example. What you’ve been doing with Gael and his farmers has been inspiring. You really know your agriculture.”
Jessie nearly fainted right out of her seat.
While she took pride in what she did, she knew she wasn’t alone in that skill.
With enough time and guidance, almost anyone could learn the basics of farming.
Not to mention, Noel didn’t hand out compliments freely.
If he was saying she did a good job, she believed him.
“Thank you, s ... Noel.” She cleared her throat. “What do I need to do to be considered for this?” Pointing at the job description, her hand shook like a leaf.
“Right now, exactly what you’re doing. I’ve been keeping notes in your employee file, and I’ll be happy to share them should you choose to apply.” He inched closer and added in a hushed tone, “And remember, this isn’t official yet, so I’d appreciate if you didn’t publicize until we know more.”
Jessie’s head bobbed in agreement, her grin overtaking her face. This was her shot, this was what she’d been working for all these years—an opportunity to lead a team, but also have more control over her placements.
Noel got up, pushed his chair in, and collected his papers. “Grab some grub and meet me in the west fields with the team in about thirty. Thanks for chatting, Jessie.”
As soon as her supervisor was gone, Jessie sprang to her feet and did a little happy dance around the table. Her body vibrated, and she couldn’t stand still. This conversation alone had given her a confidence boost she hadn’t realized was missing.
Granted, she understood that she did a good job. She’d seen the results of her work, the people she’d helped, the communities that were reborn. This current assignment had been her favorite, because it gave her the opportunity to work with animals and crops.
Jessie had never been a good student, eager to avoid making plans for college and a desk job.
She’d always thrived outdoors, getting her hands dirty, the sun beating down on her.
While her brother aced his tests and asked for extra credit, she’d turn in half-completed homework assignments and barely managed to show up to take the SAT, let alone excel at it.
When the time had come to start looking at colleges, her high school guidance counselor was quick to suggest other career paths.
Trade schools, the military, and even beauty school were suggested.
Jessie had gestured at her cut-off denim shorts and crooked ponytail and quickly nixed that latter suggestion.
Although her momma would have loved to have a girly girl. ..
During a quiet night in her room with Google, Jessie had found links to the Peace Corps, and the rest was history. It took nearly a year of applications and talking her parents—and Malcolm—into it, but she never regretted her decision.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Sometimes she did.
Like when it was late at night in the South American jungles and her only company was a lizard and her soggy sleeping bag.
Or that one time in the deserts of West Africa when she stared up at the stars all alone, no one by her side to point out constellations and make up stories about their origins.
She missed Malcolm, every day. But she wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Instead of wallowing, Jessie shoved a granola bar in her pocket and strode out into the sunshine for another day on the farm. She was eager to work with Gael and his team on planting for their future.
She could worry about her own future at another time.