Into the Fire (First Responders 3)

She reached out and took it. It was a picture of the two of them, standing and staring at the burned-out building just before she’d left last night. It was easy to see she’d been crying, and she looked a fright, while Chris was tall and clean and gorgeous. But his face was troubled as he stood just behind her. Anyone with long memories would be commenting on them being in the same picture together, wouldn’t they? But it didn’t seem to matter. Seeing the damaged building in the photo made the feelings of despair come rushing back all over again.

She scanned the article, which talked about the devastating fire, the ongoing investigation into the cause, the animals killed and the challenge of what was next for the animals saved. Her gaze darted up to Chris’s. “There’s a fundraiser on the go already?”

“One of the guys at work has a kid in 4-H. They’re going to have some sort of bake sale. I heard about it first thing this morning. And there’s been a donation account set up at the bank to cover the vet bills and other expenses.”

She put her fingers to her lips. “I don’t know what to say.”

“People believe in what you were doing, Ally. You belong to this town. Didn’t you think they would help?”

“But it was so hard to get sponsors when I started. I never thought…”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “You never thought they’d believe in you, is that it? But you proved yourself. You made it work and people saw that. And now they’re lining up to support you when you need it most.”

It was hard to take in. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Give yourself some credit. Yesterday was a terrible day, but the upside is seeing a community pull together. Now what can I do to help?”

“Nothing. You’ve done so much already,” she answered, folding the article and tucking it into her pocket. She still couldn’t quite believe it.

“I’m sure something will come up.” He dropped his hand from her shoulder. “Let me know. You know where to find me.”

She certainly did.

“The board is having an emergency meeting in an hour or so,” she said, stepping back. “I’ve got to go get ready for that. Just let me know if the investigation turns anything up, okay? That’s the best thing you can do for me right now.”

She took another step backwards.

“Ally? About last night—”

“Let’s just forget about that.” She pasted on a smile even though she knew forgetting it was about as impossible as forgetting her own name. The truth was nothing had been the same since she’d broken off their relationship. No one had ever made her feel fireworks like Chris, made her come apart with complete abandon. And it had only taken his hands. She wasn’t quite comfortable admitting that to herself, and she sure as hell didn’t know what she wanted to do about it.

“Forget about it.” His expression grew cold. “If that’s really what you want.”

“I think so. Emotions were high, that’s all…” She had to get away now before she started stammering and said too much. “But thank you, Chris. For bringing me my bag and for the article. I’ll see you around.”

She grabbed for her purse and turned around, hurrying back to the sidewalk and safety.

Chapter Three

In the seventy-two hours since the fire, it amazed Ally how much could be accomplished. Her heart swelled when she thought of how the community had rallied around what her father called her pet project. He always laughed when he said it, chuckling at his own pun. But Ally had always felt the sting. She knew her parents were disappointed she hadn’t finished her degree. They’d had high hopes for her. Working for a hair over minimum wage in retail pretty much guaranteed that she couldn’t afford her own place. With the shelter gone up in flames, she was seriously reconsidering starting over. As much as it hurt to admit it, the determination she’d felt the first night after the fire had fizzled, replaced by a good dose of reality.

She rolled over and looked at her alarm clock. The days were getting shorter and the numbers glowed brightly in the dim light of dawn. Maybe her dad was right. Maybe it was time to grow up. She couldn’t live at home forever, nor did she want to.

And yet the thought of giving up the shelter made her want to stick her head in a tub of ice cream. The shelter had been her reason for getting up in the morning.

She had some tough decisions to make.

In the meantime, she had some animals still to be fostered, and she had promised to put in an appearance at the 4-H bake sale. The proceeds would be used to provide food and necessities over the next several days.

After a hot shower and breakfast, she headed over to the clinic. To her relief all the cats had gone to foster homes for the time being and there were only three dogs left in Dr. Swan’s care. While lots of offers had come in, she made a poin

t of approving every household before letting an animal go. When she walked into the clinic she was greeted by smiles and welcomes. She could hear the dogs barking in the back. A Golden Retriever waiting for its appointment came over and gave her a sniff and a lick, and she took a moment to crouch down and give him a rub behind his ears, speaking to his owner. A grey kitten popped into view on the reception desk, all soft, fuzzy fur and a tail that stuck straight up in the air.

She loved this. How could she possibly give it up?

She stood up and headed back to the kennels. Once inside, she was greeted by several barks and meows as the animals all clamored for attention. Brutus and Galahad, both mixed breeds, wagged their tails and stuck their noses out of their crates. But Moose’s crate was empty. Moose, who’d run off right after the fire and had been picked up covered in mud and still reeking of smoke.

The only thing Ally knew about Moose’s history was that he had yellow Lab in him, and he was probably around five years old. The first day at the shelter he’d cowered in his crate and refused to come out. It had taken major coaxing to get him out for walks and he didn’t understand any commands, which meant Ally had spent a lot of time restoring his confidence and working with him on the leash. He was a sweetheart, but not an easy dog. The last time someone had come in to look at him, he’d startled and been so afraid he’d defecated in his crate. He simply wasn’t ready for adoption.