A brief wave of calm passes over us all as Boon rolls our fire truck to a stop near the house that’s going up in flames. We look out at the scene in front of us. Gray smoke billows out of a main floor window of the two-story house. There’s a faint, but warm orange-gold glow in there, masked by the escaping smoke. The fire engine up ahead has already started hooking up the hoses to the hydrant and activating the pumps. The paramedics are outside the house, treating two small children now lying on the ambulance backboards on the ground. Chief Robertson is on the street, speaking into his radio, probably requesting paramedic backup.

Davis shouts out new orders to us. Some guys from the engine are assigned to start venting the attic from the south side. Deuce goes with them to observe, and I’m assigned to watch the hose and ladder teams. Our team on the fire truck quickly springs into action. I jump out onto the pavement, ready to help where needed. My feet barely hit the ground before I’m met by a middle-aged man covered in soot, holding out a terrified, barely conscious child who can’t be more than a year or two older than my twins.

“Help her!” the man pleads, panic in his eyes as he trusts the child into my arms. “I need to get back in there for my son. I couldn’t find him!”

Davis and the search and rescue team are on the other side of the truck, grabbing gear. There’s no way we’ll let the man back inside.

“We’ll find your son,” I tell him. “What I need you to do for now is take your daughter to the paramedics so they can check you both out.”

“My son... my little boy... I have to go find him.”

“You can’t go back in there,” I say in a sharp tone that snaps him out of his state of panic. “Is there anyone else inside the house?”

“Just my little boy.”

“Where did you see him last?”

“In his bedroom on the second floor.”

“Take your daughter over there.” I point at the paramedics out front then start moving toward Boon, who’s taking instructions from the Chief.

“The homeowner says there’s a boy trapped inside,” I tell them. “In a second-floor bedroom.”

“I’ll let Davis and his men know,” Boon answers, flicking on his shoulder radio to relay the message. “They’ll find him.”

I look over at Davis and his men just as they hop up onto the porch and in the front door with their axes, Halligan bars and up to seventy-five pounds of gear on their bodies. That’s where I need to be. At the center of the rescue, not standing on the sidelines. Soon.

Chief Robertson turns to look at the second ambulance arriving on the scene with sirens on full blast. “This is Chief Robertson again,” he shouts into his radio. “We’ve got four children requiring medical assistance and only two ambos on site. I need two more ambulances here now.”

I help pull hoses and start attaching another line to the hydrant at the other end of the street. It’s grunt work, but I’m happy to help out wherever I can.

* * *

Less than twenty minutes later, the building is clear, the ambulance vans have left with all the victims. Everyone inside the house has exited safely. The element of danger has long past. Hoses are pointed to the home now, dousing the flames into submission.

Deuce comes to stand at my side. “How was hose duty?” he asks, holding out an extra bottle of water for me.

“How was venting?” I ask him without answering his question.

He knows my answer. We’re only at the start of our first shift, so we can’t expect to be anything but two extra pairs of hands. Hell, back in Austin, we wouldn’t risk taking newbies into an active fire either. Still, we’re here on scene. It beats being left behind at the station to dick around with nothing to do.

Deuce and I walk over to the rest of the team. We make ourselves useful. Taking tools from their hands, we store them in the truck compartments and wait for the hose work to wrap up so we can help pack those away too.

Maybe by the end of this shift, after sufficient orientation, we’ll get our chance to prove our worth.

The building flames are quickly extinguished by the high-powered water. Gray smoke and steam billow up from the roof, and once the Chief is satisfied, we pack it all up.

“Not bad for the first hour of your first shift,” Davis tells Deuce and me when we’re all in the truck going back to the station.

“We aim to please,” Deuce answers.

“We’ll get you set up and take you through some timed drills in between calls today.”

“Great.”

Boon pats me on the shoulder and smiles. “That should be more than enough to put your Texas asses into rotation.”

* * *

Davis doesn’t take a second for granted when we get back to the station. He takes us right back to Ember to get paperwork out of the way. She’s got her back turned as we arrive at her desk, placing folders into a file cabinet.

“Guess who’s back, Ember?” Davis greets her. “I didn’t finish up my introductions earlier. This is Randall and West. Call them Hammer and Deuce if you want to keep them happy.”

I expect her to have her game face on, but as she turns toward us, she’s beaming.

“Oh right! The transfers. Hey guys,” she answers, extending her arm to Deuce. “I’m Ember. Welcome aboard.”

“Thanks.”

I shake her hand after she’s done with Deuce, impressed at how well she’s handling herself. “Good to meet you.”

“So, how was your first milk run?” she asks, her face matching her bubbly, over-friendly tone of voice. I’m not sure how much of it’s authentic, but I assume she’s doing her best to act like she normally would for a new employee she’s never met before.

“Not bad,” I tell her honestly.

“They did good, but firefighting’s not a spectator sport, Ember,” Davis adds. “Can you put a rush on having these men onboarded and putting them in the system? I’d like them active before the next call, if possible.”

“I’m on it, Lieutenant,” she replies.

“Excellent… oh, by the way…” he glances over at us and points a thumb back at Ember. “Ember happens to be the Chief’s daughter. She’s working here temporarily. Head office still has their heads up their asses from the last round of station merges. I’m sure this goes without saying, but…she’s like a kid sister to us. And by us, I mean the both of you as well. Do I need to elaborate?”

We both shake our heads, and Deuce beats me to an answer when he says, “Not at all. We got it loud and clear.”

I got it, but hell, I didn’t treat her like a member of the family in the back of my SUV.

Far from it.

But now I know better.

We’ll keep our distance if we know what’s good for us.