ladder!”
The policeman had her by the arm now. “Miss, it’s too dangerous. You have to -”
“Hank!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. “Yes! Yes!” She waved her hand with the diamond ring as high as she could. “Yes!”
The building gave a deep, soul-shattering groan.
The policeman had his arms fully around Ruth, using all his weight to hold her back, and she could feel his feet sliding -
The wall rippled -
The gap was six feet -
A shadow of soot vaulted out of the yawning abyss, flame streaming from his back, one arm wrapped tightly around a small form. The other reached - reached - and just barely latched on to the top rung of the ladder. He swung down hard into its length, and for an eternity of a moment she thought the impact would shake him loose. That he and his precious bundle would plummet the sixty feet to the unforgiving concrete below.
Hank’s grip held.
A vast cheer went up from the surrounding crowd - echoed by the thunderous rumble of the building caving in behind him. He twined his feet into the ladder’s rungs, the truck swung around to safety, and the long unit retracted and lowered.
Ruth’s captor released his bonds and she was in flight.
Two EMTs carefully extracted a soot-encrusted blanket-bundled child from Hank’s arms while the other three sat him gently down on the ground. His gear was half burned off and his breath was coming in long, hard draws. Ruth dropped to her knees before him as they drew off his helmet and face mask.
He blinked hard, trying to focus. “Ruth - is that you?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”
She held up the ring.
His breath left him, he groaned, and then she pushed past the EMTs and tumbled into his arms. He gave a coughing shudder and she started to pull back, but he drew her in harder, holding her as if he’d never let her go.
He drew his gloved hand down her hair. “I told you to wait.”
She nodded against him. “I’ll be there for you every moment of every day. And I’ll wait for each fire to be put out. But I’ll do it by your side. Where my voice can guide you home again.”
His groan was deeper this time. He gently drew back from her and, with effort, pulled off one glove, then the second. His hands were raw and swollen, but he held one out to her.
She put the diamond into it and put out her hand.
He looked up into her eyes. “Ruth, you are my heart and soul. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”
She nodded, lost in the depths of that gaze. “Yes, with all my heart.”
He took her soot-blackened hand and carefully slid the ring along its finger.
The world around them exploded into cheers, applause, and the snapping of a thousand cameras.
It was four hours later before the scene was settled enough for them to head home. It seemed everyone along the street had seen them somehow - they were stopped every five steps for photos and congratulations. At last they stepped into the quiet restaurant. Only the waiters and staff remained, going to and fro sweeping off tables or folding stacks of napkin-animals for the following day.
The dark-haired waiter waved as they came in. He stepped into the back, then brought out the box with the tiramisu. “Your meal is on the house.”
Hank shook his head. “You can’t do that. I’d like to pay; the veal was delicious.”
The waiter smiled. “My uncle owns this restaurant; it’s already been arranged. You saved a life tonight. The least we can do is feed you.”
Hank dipped his head. “It was my job, and an honor for me to do it.”
The waiter handed him the box. “And this is our honor. I wish you both a long and happy life.”
Something in his tone was intensely wistful, and Ruth glanced at his left hand. There was no ring there. She asked, “Are you seeing someone?”
He gave a wry smile. “Yes, but - it’s complicated.”
She reached into her pocket and drew out the small bundle. “Here. It is a traditional love charm, from my great-grandmother. She - I mean we - are descended from the New York Mohicans. She learned this skill from her own grandmother.”
Was that a faint gleam of hope she saw shine in his gaze?
He almost seemed to reach for it, then drew back. “I can’t take that from you. It must be precious.”
She gave a small smile. “Believe me, she’ll make me another one. But this one has proven its worth. Take it, and find joy.”
Again he hesitated. “It is far too dear a gift.”
She chuckled. “All right, then. Take it on loan. And when you are content, pass it along to another in need. That will be how you can repay me for its use.”
An ease came to him, and he nodded. “A loan, then,” he agreed. “And then we help someone else.”
His hands moved to the small cloth pouch. His fingers folded around its shape almost in relief, as if the form of the two dolls within brought him comfort.
Hank wrapped his arms around Ruth, and she knew.
Everything would be all right.
* * *
The series continues with book 2!
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