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off miserably. “I have to go.”
    “Yes, you do,” Saul said grimly. He opened the door for Grace.
    She stepped past him, careful not to touch him, and rinsed her dishes in the sink.
    He leaned against a kitchen bench.
    “You’re dripping.”
    “That’s why the floor is concrete. It’ll survive.” A pause. “He wants you back.”
    “Ryan never had me.”
    “You thought he was your dream man.”
    She smiled slightly, sadly. “No. I was lonely. I wanted to believe I could be important to someone.”
    “Grace —” He started toward her, but she evaded him, putting the bench between them.
    “You know how dangerous loneliness is,” she said. “You must have seen it last night. The way I responded to you.” She blushed but met his eyes. “Pathetic to be that eager. It took me by surprise.”
    He froze. “Are you saying you used me last night? I don’t believe it. We weren’t anonymous bodies on the beach. You were responding to me.”
    “I know. You’re gorgeous and I had a crush on you as a kid.”
    ”What?”
    “I hid it.” A one shoulder shrug. “A romantic moonlit beach, my teenage hero.”
    “Don’t. Don’t mock what we had.”
    “I’m sorry, Saul. I’m apologising because you’re a good friend. Arrogant maybe.” Her attempt at a laugh failed. She glanced down at the yellow and green singlet and shorts she wore. “You made me so mad when you threw your weight around at the hospital, then used emotional guilt to get me here. I went out and bought a new wardrobe just to show you and everyone that I wasn’t the pathetic one in our supposed broken engagement. I even thought I could make you want me as a woman. I guess I did.”
    His stomach was one tight, cold knot. “Is that how you see me, so arrogant and manipulative that you can play with me as if I have no emotions?”
    “No!”
    “Saul.” The shout preceded running footsteps. Alex, one of the teenagers, skidded in. “Your phone’s not working. They want you at the SES centre. There’s a new bushfire. Uncle Stuart’s waiting for you.”
    “Ten minutes,” Saul said. He had to get rid of the wetsuit that was cold and clammy on his skin. Or maybe that was shock.
    Grace didn’t love him. Hell, it sounded as if she didn’t even like him.
    “I’m coming, too,” she followed him down the hallway. “First aid. There’ll be lots of smoke injuries. Can I borrow a t shirt?”
    He found one of his tighter ones, left here over Christmas, and threw it at her.
    “Saul.”
    “Get dressed,” he said and began unzipping the suit.

Chapter 6
     
    The SES centre was its usual organised chaos. People, Grace hadn’t seen in months greeted her cheerfully and asked about her medical studies. Cups of tea and sandwiches were available. The St Johns Ambulance officer accepted her offer of help. She’d worked with him before, even taken courses with him, and he knew she was accredited to assist. They bathed smoke-reddened eyes and dressed minor burns.
    The bushfire had apparently sprung out of nowhere.
    ”Fireworks,” more than one man growled. They wore their orange overalls and heavy boots and accepted Saul as one of their own. He’d been volunteering for years.
    The SES chief was Tanya Ashanto and she ran a tight ship. Saul was sent out to the West Road sector.
    Grace and Saul had driven to the centre with her stepfather, and his presence had effectively prevented them talking.
    Her chest hurt, and she didn’t think the tightness was from the smoke in the air. She’d hurt Saul and she hadn’t meant to — she hadn’t thought she could.
    What had she been trying to do? Prove to him and to herself that he wasn’t important?
    The hours slipped by. The severity of the injuries increased and the easterly wind wouldn’t stop blowing. It was blustery and potentially lethal, driving the fire in huge jumps that laughed at the SES workers’ containment lines. Houses were lost and livestock burned alive.
    Her stepfather came in with smoke