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the suit coat's collar at his neck prickling his skin, making him hot. He removed the miliary-style hat, tucked it beneath his arm as he walked through the cemetery in a somewhat mindless manner. He had no direction, no destination.

Behind him, James Walcroft had been laid to rest and the mourners began to break apart. He'd given Mrs. Walcroft his condolences, then he had to get away, be by himself before they all left for the reception. He didn't even want to be around Rocky right now. His friend stayed behind at the grave site and talked with the other mourners.

This was the first time he'd ever dealt with losing a fellow firefighter, much less a friend. The only funerals he'd been to had been those of elderly family members. He'd been fortunate enough not to have to deal with this sadness until now. It was all the more powerful because Wally had been a friend he'd lived and worked with. Someone he cared about as only Brothers in the IAFF could relate to.

Tony's sunglasses toned down the glare of the day as he viewed the expanse of lawn and headstones ahead of him. It was a nice cemetery. Well kept with manicured greens. Peaceful. Serene. If he had to be buried somewhere, Tony wouldn't mind coming here.

But, hell… what a way to spend the rest of a young life.

It just wasn't goddamn fair.

Tony had relived that day in his mind a hundred times, wishing he'd done things differently. But he knew there was nothing he could have done that would have made a difference. Walcroft had been separated from him, timbers coming between them, and the fire too intense. There was no way anyone could have gotten to him when that third-floor stairwell gave way.

Even so, it was one of those nightmare things that returned each night. A recurring panorama of events, waking him up in a helpless bath of sweat, with a chill to his body.

It had only been four days since Walcroft had died, but in that time frame, Tony had aged a lifetime.

He wasn't the same man.

Who he was, what he wanted, how he viewed the world around him all took on new meaning. Life was short. He either got busy living it the way he wanted to, or he could stop everything and pretend he was in the slow lane with traffic going around him.

He didn't want to live like that anymore.

He wanted to drive ahead. He didn't want to pass up chances, seek what was in his heart. There were a great many things he had to do, things he was compelled to go after.

'Tony?" The soft voice carried to him as he stood be-neath a shady tree. Towering above him was an enormous pine tree that must have been a hundred years old.

He slowly turned, saw Natalie and leaned against the tree trunk.

She'd come to the funeral, like so many others who'd met Wally and his family. Tony had glanced at her a time or two during the service, and had thought about her more than once during the last few days.

Her frantic voice on the end of the phone the night Wally died was a comfort he hadn't realized he'd needed until he heard her. The call came in to the emergency room when he was at St. Luke's being checked over for smoke inhalation. Natalie called right after his mom and later, when he returned to the station, the messaging system on his cell phone was full from people he was acquainted with. Even Kim had called.

He'd assured both his mom and Natalie that he was all right. His mom had come right down. Natalie had said she would but he told her no.

Now he almost wished he hadn't told her to stay away. He wished he would have let her come see him. But, at the time, he'd needed to have his space, needed to process what had happened without being influenced by a woman whom he cared very deeply about.

A woman he was in love with.

He recognized those feelings when the sparks and flames had come crashing down around him and he thought he might not make it out.

There was no doubting his love for her was real and strong. It had felt right for a long time, but he'd kept those feelings at bay over the recent weeks they'd been apart. He now knew that his love for her was within the very core of his heart; she was the reason it kept on beating.

But since the night of the fire, he hadn't fully allowed himself to explore what those feelings meant in the long run, or how she'd fit into his life. He'd put off what he hadn't been able to deal with.

"It seems like too nice a day to not be feeling the sunshine on your face," he said, his voice far-off and sounding strange to his ears. "Wally was talking about taking his boat out this weekend."

Natalie came to him, stood close enough that he could smell her skin and see the flecks of gold in her green eyes. "I'm so sorry, Tony. This must feel like losing a brother."

"Yep."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No." Tony ran a hand over his jaw, felt the smooth closeness of this morning's shave.

She hesitantly reached out to him, touched the shoulder of his uniform. She didn't say anything, didn't need to. He could feel what was in her heart just by that simple touch. He could read what was on her mind by looking into her eyes.

"Something like this makes you reassess the priorities in your life," he said, taking in a breath of clean summer air. He didn't allow her to respond, his gaze drifting to the crowd of mourners who were disbanding. "I've got to go to the reception hall. Are you coming?"

Natalie's eyebrows furrowed. "I didn't know him that well and this is an important, private thing. I think I'm just going to go for

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