Free Not Just a Cowboy (Texas Rescue) by Caro Carson

we’re just pals and this never happened. For now.” He kissed her once more, a firm press of his mouth. “You’re beautiful. Now go.”
    Patricia went, looking back just to catch another glimpse of him, wanting to see him standing safe and sound in the middle of her hospital, but he’d already disappeared in the shadows, leaving her faster than she could leave him.
    * * *
    There was good, and then there was good enough. When it came to preparing the fire engine for another run, good enough was all Luke had patience for tonight. They’d been on the fire scene almost six hours. He wanted to get cleaned up himself, and he wanted to sleep, but mostly, he thought as he mindlessly executed the chores that came with a fire engine, he wanted to leave good enough and get back to what was great: Patricia Cargill. More specifically, kissing Patricia Cargill. He wanted to do it again, for far longer, until he lost himself completely in her cool beauty and forgot the black destruction he’d just lived through.
    Luke gave the pry bar a cursory swipe with a towel before returning it to its assigned place on the engine.
    “Heads up.” Zach sounded impatient.
    Luke turned and caught the pike pole Zach threw his way. Tempers were short because they were all tired. Even with full stomachs, they were snapping at each other. That hot meal was probably the only reason they hadn’t killed each other yet. Thank God Patricia had done that smooth-talking thing she was so good at, persuading Chief that the men needed to eat immediately so the rest of the food could be sent on to the new shelter.
    Patricia had eaten dinner with him, after all. In a way. She’d stood just a few feet from his table, eating precise forkfuls as Karen asked her questions about handling requests from sister agencies. Patricia had dished out instructions in a way that had Karen nodding and agreeing as if she’d always planned to do things Patricia’s way. Luke had been content to listen to his Thoroughbred race down her lane, but as the Houston and Austin fire crews rested and ate, they’d gotten louder and more raucous and ruined his ability to eavesdrop. Patricia had slipped away before Luke could invite her to sit down and get off her feet, too.
    He didn’t know when he’d see her again.
    Luke unpacked hose as Zach ran it to the overfull pond on the edge of the hospital parking lot. While the engine sucked in hundreds of gallons to refill its tank, Luke lifted the pike pole and slid it into its place along the ladder. Every muscle in his body protested.
    The pole wasn’t that heavy. Its fiberglass handle was the lightest in the industry, the best available, like everything else on this brand new engine, but Patricia had been right. His arms were tired. Damned tired. He’d ended days on the ranch with his body aching like this, but not many.
    His head wasn’t in the best place, either. No lives had been lost in the fire, but it had been harrowing to enter the building repeatedly, first to get all the people out, then again to retrieve pet carriers with terrified animals in them. Each trip in had gotten darker, smokier, hotter.
    The chief had been about to call it off, but a child’s high-pitched voice had carried right over the roar of fire and the growl of the vehicle engines. “Is it our cat’s turn? The firemen get our cat now, right?”
    Luke had heard the question, and all the faith in it, loud and clear. The bullhorn was in the chief’s hand, but he hadn’t given the command to stay clear yet. Luke had headed back in, tank on his back, pulling his mask on as he went. It had been bad, though. He’d lumbered in upright, but he’d ended up crawling out on his hands and knees, shoving the last two cat carriers in front of him as he went.
    Zach had met him at the egress point and grabbed the carriers. As Luke had struggled to his feet, the chief had practically lifted him by his coat collar and given him a hard shake by the scruff of the neck, the