Sweet Justice
The toughest call he ever had to makeFollowing protocol during a fire that badly injured a young woman leaves Georgia firefighter Andrew Monroe racked with guilt. He hopes to make amends by helping Mallory Blair’s kid sister heal through equestrian therapy on his family ranch. The big obstacle is Mallory, who blames Andrew for what happened in spite of the daring rescue that placed his own life at risk. He knows that falling for Mallory is asking for trouble…especially when their mutual attraction ignites more conflict. But Mallory’s a fighter. Like her sister. Like him. Together, can they find a way to turn the past into hope for the future?
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The toughest call he ever had to make
Following protocol during a fire that badly injured a young woman leaves Georgia firefighter Andrew Monroe racked with guilt. He hopes to make amends by helping Mallory Blairâs kid sister heal through equestrian therapy on his family ranch. The big obstacle is Mallory, who blames Andrew for what happened in spite of the daring rescue that placed his own life at risk. He knows that falling for Mallory is asking for trouble...especially when their mutual attraction ignites more conflict. But Malloryâs a fighter. Like her sister. Like him. Together, can they find a way to turn the past into hope for the future?
âThatâs better. You donât look so polished now. You look all rumpled and kissable.â
âI do?â Mallory tilted her head up, staring into clear, calm blue eyes.
Andrew cupped her jaw. His mouth on hers was soft, tentative at first, then more confident. It was a good kiss, a near perfect kiss, all the better because he didnât push things, but let it happen naturally. She rested her cheek against his shoulder.
âMauve is the pink trying to be purple,â she murmured for lack of anything else to say.
âNever can keep those straight.â His hand slid along her hair, tucking it back behind her ear. She felt his gaze upon her, smelled a hint of smoke on his skin.
He was wearing his uniform under the denim jacket, she realized with a startânavy blue with the insignia stitched onto the pocket.
The same uniform he wore when heâd abandoned Katelyn to that demon fire.
I still remember the night a kitchen fire devastated the heart of my parentsâ home. Luckily, no one was injured. Others, including many firefighters on duty and off, havenât been as fortunate.
In Sweet Justice, Andrew and Mallory find themselves dealing with the fallout of just such a fire, one that injures both a civilian and a firefighter. It all starts with a single bad decision with the potential to send hopes, dreams and futures up in smoke.
The worst thing about most structure fires? Theyâre imminently preventable. Writing this book has reminded me to be safeâand to check those smoke detector batteries!
Cynthia
Check out me and my fellow Mills & Boon Heartwarming sisters at heartwarmingauthors.blogspot.com.
CYNTHIA REESE lives with her husband and their daughter in south Georgia, along with their two dogs, three cats and however many strays show up for morning muster. She has been scribbling since she was knee-high to a grasshopper and reading even before that. A former journalist, teacher and college English instructor, she also enjoys cooking, traveling and photography when she gets the chance.
To my lovely gal palsâLeslie, Bobbi and Fran. Thanks for talking me down from the ledges.
Kathryn Lye and Victoria Curran are the best editors on the planetâthis book wouldnât have been possible without them. I also owe a huge debt to my Harlequin Heartwarming sister Karen Rock, who patiently brainstormed with me to work out the lives of the Georgia Monroes.
For technical help, thanks goes to Sergeant Tommy Windham and all the firefighters at the City of Dublin, Georgiaâs Fire Department. Dr. Jean Sumner first gave me the idea of what injury Katelyn might suffer in a fire. Eric Carney and Stacy Watson graciously taught me what burn victims endure during rehab. All mistakes are mine!
Inspiration also came from the Love familyâtheyâve shown me what a wonderful thing a big family can be.
My critique partner, Tawna Fenske, as well as my readers, Jessica Brown, Wright and Dusty Gres, Kandice Williams, and Lee and Kathy Cheek, helped me tremendously.
And to my husband and my daughterâI owe you loan-shark big for putting up with my MIA self.
Contents
BLACKNESS.
A solid wall of blackness.
Andrew Monroe crawled farther into the darkness, the grit of the floor biting into his knees, the heft of the fire hose under his right arm. His left hand secure on Eric Russellâs turnout gear, the only way he even knew his fellow crewmember was ahead of him.
And the girl they were trying to find? Who knew where she was? Or was she even here?
Eric had called out to her, but the only noise that penetrated the darkness was the rasp of their own breathing.
Captain had said that her roommates werenât sure the girl, Katelyn, was still in the houseâif you could call the tumbledown two-story much of a house. It seemed to go on forever, just room after room. It was like so many of the big old homes in this college townâtaken over by students in search of cheap rent, and who cared if the place was nothing more than a firetrap?
