He half led, half dragged her to the sidewalk. The other volunteer trainees showed up and he organized them into keeping the civilians safely away from the fire.

Several police officers arrived. He talked to Chief Barns, telling her how long the fire department had been there. More equipment pulled up as the two alarm grew to four. There were only five stations in Fool’s Gold. He heard a policewoman say a call had gone out to nearby communities.

Smoke and sparks filled the air. Bits of embers landed on the sidewalk. Firefighters with axes and air packs disappeared into the building and later reappeared. Minutes later, a tall firefighter hurried out, her arms around two teenagers. The paramedics moved in to help them.

Clay studied the firefighter, noting the familiar number on her helmet. Charlie, he thought, relieved. But once the teens were safely with the medics, she turned and, with another firefighter, disappeared back into the inferno.

Time crawled. More kids appeared. Two were carried. Clay watched the warehouse, waiting for Charlie to reappear. He told himself that she wasn’t alone. That she would be fine. This was what she did, who she was.

The ground moved. For a second, he thought they were having an earthquake. From behind him, he heard screams. He glanced back at the warehouse. The roof seemed to shimmer and dance then slowly, so slowly, folded in on itself. The outside west wall disintegrated.

Smoke and dust and debris rose like a living creature. The sounds faded until there was only the beating of his heart and a primal scream. No!

He was running before he knew what had happened. Running, determined. Because Charlie was still in the building. Charlie was in danger and he had to save her.

Someone yelled. He heard words, but they didn’t penetrate. Someone grabbed him. He pushed the arms away. He was nearly there. Heat blasted him; he couldn’t breathe, but that didn’t matter. There were more arms, then he couldn’t run. He was being held in place.

Rational thought returned and with it came fear. The cold kind that rose from his bones and made it impossible to move.

“I swear to God, I will knock you unconscious myself,” the captain told him. “Stay the f**k here.”

Clay nodded because he couldn’t speak. He stared at the building, making deals with God, offering all he had. His life, his soul, everything. If Charlie would just be okay.

Embers landed on his shirt and burned through to his skin, but he didn’t move. Water continued to flow onto the burning building and the smoke gradually turned from black to gray. Firefighters raced in and out of the building, dark silhouettes against the devil’s handiwork.

Then he saw her. One second there was only smoke and steam, the next she was walking out into the night.

Relief kept him in place as firmly as fear had done. He watched her, grateful and terrified at the same time. Because knowing she was alive wasn’t enough. He had to find a way to always keep her safe. She was... She was...

And then he knew. He’d never bothered to protect himself from Charlie because he didn’t have to. They were friends. Lovers. But not in love. Never in love.

But sometime in the past few weeks, she’d worked her way inside of him. Into his heart. She’d become important. He loved her.

Charlie walked over to the medics and pulled off her helmet. He knew right away that she was fine. He caught scraps of conversation and heard her arguing that she hadn’t been anywhere near the collapse. That she was fine. No one listened.

He returned to the growing crowd and helped keep order. By midnight the fire was out. By two in the morning, the cleanup complete. All nine teens were safe. Three had been taken to the hospital but were expected to make a full recovery. Sometime close to three, he drove back to the ranch.

He parked, but instead of going inside, he walked out to the corrals and stared at the night sky. He was cold, smelled of smoke. There were probably holes in his shirt from the embers. He might have a few burns.

None of that mattered. What he couldn’t wrap his mind around was how it had happened. How had he fallen in love again? He’d assumed he would only love Diane for the rest of his life. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone else. He couldn’t do it again. Give his all and then lose it. He wasn’t that strong.

Which meant he knew what came next. What he had to do.

Charlie was resilient, he told himself. Capable. In the end, he couldn’t hurt her. Not really. She had survived worse. And so had he.

* * *

CHARLIE PARKED IN her driveway and told herself she really had to get out of her truck and walk to the house. Once there she would collapse. Her bed was waiting; she’d already showered twice at the station. A good day’s sleep and she would be healed.

It had been a hell of a night. The fire, set by teens lighting a fire in the warehouse, had destroyed the structure, but no lives had been lost. They’d been on the opposite side of the building that had collapsed. Apparently the old saying was true—God did look after children and fools. Last she’d heard, the couple of kids taken to the hospital would be released later today. The other buildings in the area had been protected. What could have been a disaster had ended as well as could be expected.

She climbed out of her truck and started toward the front door. Movement on her porch caught her attention. She saw Clay stand and walk toward her.

Instantly her exhaustion faded. She hurried toward him, wanting to see him and touch him. Right now she didn’t even care if they made love. She just wanted to feel his arms around her and spend some time in his company. If that led to the wild thing, that would be good, too.

“Hey,” she said when she stopped in front of him. “I heard you did good last night. Olivia said you got a little worried when that section of roof caved, but you took care of the crowds and stayed out of trouble.”

“She’s lying,” he said, his voice oddly flat.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I’d lost you.”

The words should have made her do the happy dance, but there was something in his voice. Make that something that wasn’t in his voice. There was no energy, no drive. It was as if they were talking about whether or not to wash the car.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her stomach tightening as something very close to dread washed through her. “What happened?”

She waited for him to laugh and say he was fine. For him to pull her close and kiss her. She would settle on gentle teasing, as long as he said everything was fine. That they were fine.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he told her, his dark gaze unreadable. He motioned to the space between them. “Us. The relationship. It’s over.”

She’d spent much of her life protecting herself, emotionally. Now all that training took over. Raw pain cut through her, but she didn’t blink, didn’t flinch, didn’t say a word. She felt her face stiffen, shifting to a kind of shield where no expression showed. Her hands stayed loose at her sides, her legs continued to support her.

The only outward sign that anything was wrong was her chin rising slightly.

“All right,” she said calmly.

“I wish you the best,” he said. “And I’m sorry if this hurts you. I’ll tell everyone you dumped me. You know, so there aren’t any questions.”

She wanted to point out that questions wouldn’t matter. Not when she didn’t have answers. She wanted to scream that she didn’t understand and then ask why he was doing this to her. What had changed? Why was today different than yesterday?

For the first time in her life, she wanted to beg.

Instead she asked, “Anything else?”

He shook his head and walked away.

She watched him go. Waited until he’d gotten in his truck and driven away. When she was sure he was gone, was sure he couldn’t see her anymore, she sank down onto her knees, her face pressed into her thighs, her body shaking, her hands pressed against the cement walkway. Tears soaked her jeans as she let the pain wash over her.

She had no idea how long she stayed there, crouched and in pain. After a while, she felt gentle hands brush against her back. Heidi and Annabelle urged her to her feet, then helped her inside. Once she was seated on the sofa, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed until there was nothing left. Nothing but a future without the man she loved.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE to come back,” Dominique told her bodyguard. “I called the agency and released you from your contract. You’re free to go protect someone who actually needs your services.”

Justice prowled the living room of her suite, as if confirming no danger lurked. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

She laughed. “Hardly. We only worked together a few days. You’re not here because of me at all.” She tilted her head. “So what brings you back to Fool’s Gold?”

His gaze settled on her face. “There’s someone I might want to see.”

“Someone? Or a woman?”

He stopped in the center of the room. “A woman.”

“Tell me about her.”

One corner of his mouth turned up at the corner. “I don’t think so.”

“Ever mysterious.”

“It works for me.”

“But she is here. The woman you’re afraid to see.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“What’s her name?” Dominique asked.

He hesitated so long she didn’t think he would tell her. But he finally spoke. “Patience McGraw.”

Dominique raised her eyebrows. “She’s a hairstylist here in town. A lovely young woman. Former girlfriend?”

“Not exactly. I knew her a long time ago. When I was young.”

The story was getting more and more interesting, Dominique thought. “You grew up here?”

“I lived here a couple of years when I was a kid. I doubt Patience remembers me.”

“You’re not the kind of man a woman forgets.”

“I wasn’t a man back then.”

“Still. I suspect you were memorable.” She smiled. “I’m stating a fact, not flirting.”

His expression relaxed. “I know. I’m not your type.”

“So about your friend Patience. Now what?”

“I have to leave on an assignment. She has a life. I shouldn’t bother her.”

“I doubt she would see you as a bother. You should speak to her before you go.”

He shook his head. “I have to go to South America now. For a job.”

Dominique wondered why he was waiting. Fear? Anticipation? “But you wanted to see her one last time before you left?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Which means yes. So you’ll see her and she won’t see you. I hope you don’t change your mind about coming back. You need some time in this town. It will heal you.”

“Who says I need healing?”

“Anyone can see it in your eyes.”

His gaze narrowed. “I liked you better before you were insightful.”

“Now you’re lying. I’m much more interesting these days. I don’t know why it took me so long to pay attention to other people. They’re endlessly fascinating. So flawed, but determined.”

He walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “Goodbye, Dominique. It was a pleasure.”

“I hope I see you again soon.”

He only nodded and walked to the door. He let himself out.

Dominique stayed on the sofa, thinking about what she would do with her day. She needed to make a visit to the dance school. Being around the students was so refreshing. A few of the girls had actual talent. She should talk to the parents and make sure they had plans to continue their daughters’ dance education. There was also a—

Someone knocked on her door.

She rose and crossed the living room. “Did you forget something?” she asked, opening the door and expecting to see Justice.

Instead, Charlie stood there. Her daughter’s face was pale, her eyes red and swollen. She looked as if she’d been crying. Worse, she seemed almost small.

Without thinking, Dominique held out her arms. Charlie surged forward and let herself be held.

* * *

CHARLIE CURLED UP on the sofa as best she could. Sometimes being tall was a pain in the ass. Right now she wished she was small enough to simply disappear. She fought feelings of shame, along with a sense of being broken in such a way that she would never heal.

She knew she’d been a fool and that she had no one but herself to blame. But that didn’t take away the hollow ache inside. The pain she felt with every breath. The loss that was so big, it threatened to swallow her whole.

Dominique sat beside her on the sofa, angled toward her. She didn’t speak or ask questions. Instead she passed tissues and plied her with single malt Scotch. It might only be eleven in the morning, but Charlie was well on her way to being drunk.

After Heidi and Annabelle had helped her inside, she’d cried until she had nothing left. Halfway through her explanation of what had gone wrong, she’d realized she needed to see Dominique. Annabelle had driven her over. The true measure of a friend, she thought. Doing what was right for the other person.

“It’s Clay,” Charlie said at last, wiping her eyes with a balled-up tissue and wishing she could stop crying. “It’s over.”

Dominique squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what happened. I thought we were doing fine, but then this morning, he ended things. He said he didn’t want us to be together anymore. That it was over.” More tears fell. “I don’t know w-why.”

Charlie fought the sobs, but they won. She bent at the waist, clutching her arms around her middle, trying to hold in what was left of her heart.