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barely moved, but it was enough. “Get him out,” the man grunted as his muscles bulged.
    Logan didn’t hesitate. He let go of the beam and grabbed B. Simpson by his shoulders. He pulled with all he had. The adrenaline pumping through his body helped as he pulled the man free of the beam. The big man dropped the beam as soon as B. Simpson was clear. His thick arms shook as he looked down at the man. “Are you sure he’s alive?”
    “No, I’m not.” Logan felt for a pulse and shook his head. “Can you carry him out? I’m going to look for the woman.”
    “You have to save her. Please.” The man bent over and scooped B. Simpson into his arms, then disappeared into the smoke.
     
    Logan coughed and pressed his damp shirt to his mouth. If she was in here with her husband, then she should be near. Crawling on his hands and knees, he started searching the area. He found her lying on her stomach only feet from where her husband had been. Part of the ceiling and the edge of a beam were on the ground next to her shattered hard hat.
    Logan’s heart plummeted. She’s taken a hit to the head from falling debris. It didn’t look good. Her bright blue dress stood out against the black smoke. Her strawberry blonde hair was fanned out around her head. She looked like an angel. Logan felt tears welling for this woman he didn’t even know.
    Crawling to her, he pushed her hair back from her face. His fingers left a trail of soot along her soft cheek as he pressed his fingers to her neck to confirm what he saw. Logan almost jumped back when he felt the strong pulse under his fingers. “Mrs. Simpson,” he yelled. “Can you hear me?”
    The woman didn’t move. The fire crackled and some more of the building crashed down not fifteen feet from them. He rolled her over on her back and slid his arms under her shoulders and knees. “Come on, Mrs. Simpson. Live for me,” Logan murmured as he rounded his shoulders, trying to protect her as much as possible from the heat and debris. He used his knee to keep her upright as he took his wet shirt and laid it over her. He lifted her into his arms and realized the cleared area he’d come through was shrinking with the growing flames.
    Logan tucked the woman to his chest and ran. He leaped over debris and dodged more when a section of the ceiling fell. Through the dancing flames, he could see movement. He could hear yelling. And then he felt the blessed spray of the hose. The men had seen him and were trying to make an opening through the flames for him to escape. The fire hissed in anger at the water, and Logan jumped.
     
    Bree couldn’t remember being so hot before. She was from the South. She was no wimp when it came to hot, humid summer days. But this was different. It felt as if her body was literally on fire and her hair was melting. Someone was calling her, but the escape into the darkness was more appealing. Anything to get away from this heat.
    All too soon, though, she was dragged from the darkness. She was floating. Was she dead? Bree tried to open her eyes, but as soon as she did they burned so badly she slammed them shut. All she saw in that split second was the very blurry image of a shirtless man holding her and flames surrounding them. Oh God, she was going to hell and being carried there by a really hot angel of death. The darkness came again and she fought it. She heard screaming and felt the fire engulfing her.
    “Hang on. I’ve got you.”
    The encouraging words with the deep Southern accent soothed her. He wasn’t an angel of death. She felt the strength of him protecting her. Bree floated back into darkness, knowing she was safe.
     
    Logan burst through the flames and was immediately covered with wet towels. The fire department roared onto the scene. Ambulances were fighting through traffic and tearing into the construction site. One lone ambulance sped away from the scene. Thank goodness, Mr. Simpson was on the way to the hospital. The lights flashing and the