I think of the nights spent poring over procedure manuals, the extra training courses I took on my own time, the way I learned every aspect of station operations inside and out. The promotion wasn’t handed to me—I fought for it, proved myself through every challenge they threw my way.
“Sometimes I wonder if Dad would’ve done things differently,” I admit, surprising myself with the confession.
Jimmy leans forward, his eyes intent. “Your father would be proud. You’ve modernized our protocols, improved response times, and most importantly, kept this crew together through tough calls. Son, I’m proud of you.”
He’s right. Despite the pressure and the constant need to prove myself, this crew has become more than my colleagues. They’re family, which makes the situation with Blake more complicated.
The thought of Ember flashes through my mind—the first person in years who’s made me want something beyond these station walls.
Jimmy’s quiet for a moment, then opens his laptop. “This is the new arson investigator. Ashley Torres—three years with Atlanta FD, originally from Texas. She solved the drug house fire ring last year that had APD stumped for months.”
My stomach drops. “You’ve already hired her?”
“Yes, I did. We need someone now who can cover three counties. Tom’s retirement has sped up to one week after the fundraiser.” Jimmy’s expression is firm. “Torres has detection skills we don’t have. I’m introducing her to the crew at the fundraiser.”
My jaw clenches. Blake’s worked toward this for two years. “When are you telling him?”
“I’m telling him tomorrow morning.” Jimmy meets my eyes. “But I wanted you to hear it from me first. This doesn’t mean Blake won’t get his shot. But right now, we need her expertise. I’m sure we can place him when he gets the exam results.”
I nod slowly, thinking about how my brother’s going to take this news.
“She doesn’t pull punches, from what I hear,” Jimmy adds. “If Blake wants the certification and position, working with her might be what pushes him to be the best.”
Great. Another complication while I’m trying to figure out what’s happening with Ember.
Nic and Emberwalk into the station bay a few hours later, and my breath catches. She’s dressed casually in jeans and a flowing yellow top, but she moves like she belongs here, tablet in hand and determination in her step.
“So, you’re the famous Ember,” Uncle Jimmy says, extending his hand. “I’m Chief McCallister, Ryan’s uncle. Welcome to the family business.”
I watch her reaction; she takes the family interrogation in stride. “Famous?” She shoots me a smirk and a wink that makes me chuckle before I surrender my hands to the air—because who knows what any of them will say.
“Any woman who can make my nephew miss a Braves game to have late-night coffee must be pretty special?—”
Blake chimes in, grinning. “I’m Blake, the better-looking brother.”
I spy more interlopers, Romeo, my right hand in command, and Holden, the newest and youngest member of the house, coming around the rig to introduce themselves. It will be a full-court press from the crew.
“Debatable,” I say, pushing off the truck I’ve been leaning against. “Don’t you have something to clean?”
I’m so impressed watching Ember command the room, her fingers flying across her iPad while she outlines the vision for the fundraiser. She’s transformed from the woman I pulled from the wreck into a powerhouse of organization and creativity. Damn, she’s gorgeous.
“If we set up the carnival games here,” she gestures to a digital layout of the station’s front lot and park area, “we cankeep the bay doors clear for emergency response. The food trucks can line the side street, and we’ll have clear paths for the trucks if needed.”
Uncle Jimmy nods, studying the layout. “What about the demonstrations?”
“That’s where it gets interesting,” Ember’s eyes light up. “Instead of confining everything to the community center, we can showcase the equipment here on the south side of the park. Kids can see one truck up close, try on gear—safely supervised, of course—and we’ll have scheduled demos throughout the day.”
Romeo leans forward. “The kids would go crazy for that. Last year, they were disappointed they couldn’t climb on the trucks.”
“Exactly,” Ember says, pulling up another screen. “And Nic’s already sketched some amazing photo op spots where families can take pictures with firefighters and fun cutouts.”
I watch her work, amazed at how she’s considered every angle—safety, logistics, entertainment. She’s factored in our need to maintain full operations.
“We’ll have two crews on rotation,” I add, catching her eye. “That way we can handle both the event and any calls. I’ve also coordinated with the other nearby county stations to provide backup coverage during peak hours.”
“Perfect.” She beams at me. “I can also support any other coordination you might think of.”
Uncle Jimmy whistles low. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
