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Smoldering Embers

It was that time of year for brush up training at the Fire Station in Medford Oregon

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Previously

…Sarah, sensing their attention, looked up. Her eyes met Jake’s, and for a fleeting moment, the noise of the firehouse faded. The unspoken question, the electric current that always seemed to thrum between them, passed through the space. It was a silent conversation, a reaffirmation of the bond that had been forged in the heat of the wildfire, a bond that was now as much a part of them as the very air they breathed. The embers, once smoldering, were now a steady, visible flame, and the firehouse, their sanctuary, was now witness to its growing warmth.

Setting the scene…

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