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The fourth victim, a teenage girl, was trapped. He dove over and over, blowing air into her mouth to keep her alive. Finally, a blurry flashlight lit up the murky water. Turk Crenshaw, the oncoming shift captain, helped pry the young girl free. Together, they dragged her clear. Firefighter Luke Shane met them and began the resuscitation effort.
An hour later, Jackson, Turk, and Luke had found themselves seated in the emergency room, surrounded by the sterile scent of antiseptic and the low hum of medical equipment. The chief insisted they all get checked out, just to be safe.
Sitting side by side, they began processing the intense rescue they had just undertaken. Jackson recounted the moment he first spotted the car submerged in the water. “It was surreal, you know? Everything seemed fine until I saw the fourth person trapped inside,” he’d explained, his eyes reflecting the memory of the panicked faces. “The first three were scared, but once I cut the seat belt and gave them some direction, they helped me help them.”
He described how he dove into the cool water without a second thought, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he reached the trapped teen. “I remember struggling to get her out. She was jammed in, couldn’t breathe.” His voice had tightened with the recollection. “That's when Turk swooped in like a guardian angel, helping me. I owe you one, man,” Jackson said, nodding gratefully toward Turk.
As the conversation had unfolded, the adrenaline rush began to subside, replaced by a sense of friendship and relief. Luke, ever the lighthearted one and the youngest in the bunch, broke the tension with his trademark humor. “Well, I guess that's another day at the office, huh? Who’s doing the paperwork?”
Laughter bubbled up among the trio, filling the room with a sense of shared understanding. And as they sat there, bantering and reflecting on their latest call, they were reminded once again of the unbreakable bond that bound them together.
Jackson now sat in the captain’s office at Station 3, a stack of newspapers resting on the corner of the desk. A photo captured the intense rescue amidst the torrential storm, showing Jackson, Turk and Luke, soaked and exhausted, loading the family into awaiting ambulances. The grateful parents embraced them, their expressions a mix of relief and gratitude. The town hailed them as heroes, but for Jackson—and he was sure it was also true for Turk—it was simply another day at work.
One
The hospital auditorium was filling. The day brimmed with significance for Waverly Junction Hospital and the community it served. As the burn center dedication drew near, the air hummed with anticipation and emotion. Olivia, dressed in her Waverly County Police Department uniform, stood among her mother and four sisters, a mix of pride for the community and a somber reluctance within her.
Liv found herself ensnared in a wave of emotions. In the midst of honoring her father’s legacy, she couldn't shake the raw ache of his loss gnawing at her. She missed him so.
Her gaze swept across the room, taking in the diverse assembly of faces. Among them stood firefighters in their stoic stances. Medical personnel, with their unwavering dedication to healing, mingled with town administrators, some who really cared, and some who were there for a political appearance. And there, seated amongst them, were the members of the new burn center board, a symbol of hope and progress.
But amidst the sea of faces, the one she wanted was missing: her father. His absence loomed large, a palpable void that no amount of ceremony could fill. Each figure in the room represented a piece of the community her father died serving. Staring at the sign, she let herself feel a sense of pride in her father's legacy, even as the pain of his absence threatened to overwhelm her.
Among the influx of attendees, Liv's gaze lit upon a trio of firefighters entering together. One of them, standing tall and exuding a silent strength, possessed a distinct aura—a figure with cropped black hair and eyes as green as the fertile hills surrounding Waverly Junction.
“That's Jackson Reynolds. David's son. He was twenty when your dad and his died,” her mother related in a hushed tone. “His dad would be so proud seeing him promoted and getting a medal of valor.”
Jackson Reynolds—a name tied not just to the present moment but woven into Liv's past through a joint tragedy. She nodded silently, her eyes flickering briefly in Jackson’s direction before she closed them, trying to suppress the next rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She felt a pang of empathy, wondering if he carried the same weight of loss and unanswered questions about his father's death that she did.
Her sister Isobel, a forensic psychologist, gently squeezed her hand. “Are you okay, Liv?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.
Liv took a moment to compose herself before answering softly, “Yeah, just... unexpected feelings, you know?”
Isobel nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. “It's a lot to process, especially today.” Liv knew she was speaking professionally. Isobel was barely four when their father died and had little memory of him.
Their conversation was interrupted by the ceremony's commencement. As the speakers took the stage, Liv stole another glance at Jackson, who was engaged in a conversation with his fellow firefighters. The memories of the past collided with the present.
The burn unit dedication ceremony was both somber and hopeful with the community coming together to honor those who had been affected by fire-related tragedies. Olivia, like Jackson, reflected on her legacy—hers as a detective in the arson/bomb unit of the Waverly County Police Department—as she stood among the crowd. Her heart was heavy with emotion as she listened to the speeches and watched the ribbon cutting that officially opened the new facility.
As the ceremony drew to a close, Olivia's police partner, Michael Wheaton, approached her. A warm smile graced his lips as he congratulated her and her family on the dedication of the burn unit. Michael, ten years Olivia’s senior in both age and experience, had a strong, confident presence, with a well-built physique that reflected his dedication to physical fitness. He possessed a rugged charm with his tousled dark hair and piercing blue eyes, presenting a striking figure.
“Congratulations, Liv,” he said, his voice filled with genuine pride. “This is such an important endeavor for our community and an honor for your family.”
Olivia returned his smile, gratitude shining in her eyes. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice tinged with emotion. “It means a lot to my family.”
As she engaged in conversation, she felt Michael's gaze linger on her, sensing his concern like a gentle touch on her shoulder. His eyes followed hers as they unconsciously drifted toward Jackson Reynolds, who stood a few feet away, his presence commanding attention even on such a somber occasion.
A flicker of concern flashed in Michael's eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the tragedy her father's death carried. His understanding gaze spoke volumes, conveying a depth of empathy that warmed her heart.
She knew Michael chose not to voice his concerns aloud, a decision Liv appreciated in that moment. He knew her well enough to understand that now was neither the time nor the place to delve into her feelings. Instead, he offered silent support.
“Liv,” his voice broke through the din, soft yet earnest, drawing her attention back to him. “Honey, I see you looking at Jackson Reynolds—all I ask is that you be cautious. I worry about the impact reliving your father’s death might have on you. Not that you don’t do it every time we have a case.”
His words were a gentle reminder of his unwavering concern for her well-being, a reminder that she wasn't alone. And as she met his gaze, gratitude flooded her heart, knowing that, no matter what, Michael would always be there at her side, ready to offer support and guidance.
A soft smile touched Olivia's lips as she reached out to squeeze her partner's hand in gratitude. “Thank you for looking out for me,” she said sincerely. Before he could respond, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, a silent gesture of appreciation.
The attendees began mingling, and Liv found herself drawn closer to where Jackson stood. Summoning courage, she approached him, her voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. “Jackson Reynolds, right?”
