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Somehow, he managed to get his boots above the third rung, too, however the scent of melted rubber and the sizzle of the material on hot metal told him it hadn’t been enough.

The heat reached the heels of his feet and he screamed.

His minutes to get this done were turning to seconds.

He wasn’t going to be able to climb any higher. The lever to release the fire suppression system was only five feet above him. One leap the height of Maggie was all he needed to save her legacy. And he couldn’t do it.

Defeat shook his chest, and he fought back a sob. He’d come so close.

I’m sorry, Maggie. I tried.

The sob escaped, and he almost let go of the ladder rung.

No. You can do this, Bennett. I believe in you.

As if he’d heard Maggie’s actual voice, resolve flushed the crushing disappointment. She was right. He could do this, and more importantly, he had to. For her. For them.

In a last move like something he’d seen in a Mission Impossible stunt, Bennett launched up and felt the cool steel in his hands before the lever fell, releasing a spray of water that sent the fire hissing into steam at his feet.

And then he was falling, too.

His last thought before landing on the hard-packed sand was of Maggie. He might not get the girl, but he’d given the girl a chance to chase her dreams, and that was enough.

*

Bennett’s eyelids fluttered, each feeling like they were layered in lead. Spears of light punctuated what had been crippling darkness moments before. The hazy edges of images refused to come into focus, leaving more questions than answers.

Where am I?

What the heck happened?

Is Maggie okay?

It took too much effort to keep his eyes open, so he relied on his other senses to give him some answers.

The putrid smell of burnt rubber and acrid smoke was the first thing he noticed when he breathed in through his nose. The second was that breathing hurt. His lungs burned, his chest ached, and his ribs felt like they’d been stomped by Jove.

The third was that he couldn’t speak. He tried opening his mouth, but his jaw was clamped and sore.

None of it mattered, though, when a single voice cut through the noise and pain and confusion.

“He’s got breath sounds on both sides. But he’ll need someone to help him out of here. Please hurry.”

Maggie. He’d smile if he could. Heck, he’d dance one of those line dance things at the next town hall if it would show her how happy he was to hear her voice.

She’s okay.

The knowledge buoyed him, and he forced his eyes to open so he could see her.

The bright sun poured down through streams broken by smoke and dust. Scorched trees and ash-covered canyon walls added an apocalyptic feel to the once austere landscape—land he’d wanted more than anything.

Until her. Maggie.

Then wanting anything more was almost laughable.

And there she was, her slacks stained black and gray with ash, her once-sleek hair damp with perspiration and just as dirty as the rest of her. Still, she was the most stunning thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Maggie,” he eked out in a whisper. The small exertion cost him greatly and he coughed, then winced when the cough made his ribs worse. “You’re back. I thought you’d left.”