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THE HIGH STAKES RESCUE
DISASTER CITY SEARCH AND RESCUE
JENNA BRANDT
 COPYRIGHT

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Locale and public names are sometimes
used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, or
actual locations is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written
permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and
certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email jenna@
jennabrandt.com.

Text copyright © Jenna Brandt 2023.

Cover copyright by Jenna Brandt

 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9

A Note from the Author

Sneak Peek of Arresting Her Heart
Sneak Peek of Rescue Agent for Dana
Also by Jenna Brandt/Jennifer Branson
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Join My Mailing List and Reader’s Groups
 PRAISE FOR JENNA BRANDT

I am always excited when I see a new book by Jenna Brandt.

— LORI DYKES, AMAZON CUSTOMER

Jenna Brandt is, in my estimation, the most gifted author of Christian fiction in this generation!
— PAULA ROSE MICHELSON, FELLOW AUTHOR

Ms. Brandt writes from the heart and you can feel it in every page turned.
— SANDRA SEWELL WHITE, LONGTIME READER

For more information about Jenna Brandt visit her on any of her websites.

Signup for Jenna Brandt’s Newsletter

Visit her on Social Media:

www.JennaBrandt.com
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hwww.twitter.com/JennaDBrandt
http://www.instagram.com/Jennnathewriter
 Dedicated to
my husband, Dustin, Badge #5654,
who inspired me to create this series.
You’re not only my heart and soul,
but my own personal lawkeeper.
 1

F irst Sergeant Marco Fernandez was born in a small town in the heart of Texas, and hadn't stepped
foot in the state in over twelve years. Even after all of the time he was gone, his hometown of
Woody hadn't changed much in his absence.
He glanced down at his watch and quickened his pace. If he didn't hurry up, he was going to be
late for his first day at his new job at Disaster City Search and Rescue. He'd stopped by the local café
for a cup of coffee to give himself a much-needed jolt of energy. As he was rushing out, he felt a crash
and heard a thud.
Suddenly, he was surrounded by an aromatic cloud of coffee and a flurry of activity. He steadied
himself, only to find he had bumped into a tall, willowy woman, spilling coffee all over both of them.
The raven-haired beauty squealed in surprise and began to frantically brush herself off, her
caramel eyes wide with a combination of shock and rage. "You imbecile," she snapped, her voice
sharp and angry. "Do you have any idea how important today is for me? I have an interview with the
mayor, and I need it to go perfectly."
Marco felt a wave of guilt wash over him, but he also bristled at her tone. "I'm sure it's not as
important as my first day at work," he shot back. "You should be more careful."
The middle-aged woman rolled her eyes and let out a loud huff. “Me? You’re the one who brought
a dog in here with you, who actually caused the crash in the first place.”
“I hardly doubt that. Nomad is trained to be in public places,” Marco challenged, knowing that in
no way was any of this his K9 partner’s fault.
“Yeah, well, now I'm going to have to change my outfit. I was hoping to make a good impression,
and now I'm going to be late."
Marco wanted to apologize, but he was already running late and needed to get moving. He
grabbed his coffee cup off the floor and began to walk away, but not before he heard her mutter
something disrespectful under her breath.
He couldn't help but turn around and give her a dirty look, irritated that she couldn't see how all of
this was her fault. She was still standing there, watching him with an incredulous expression. He
mocked her with a fake-smile and gave her a small wave before he quickly turned and strode off
down the street.
After the adrenaline of the situation wore off, he couldn't help but feel a little ashamed of himself.
It wasn't like him to be so impolite, but he chalked it up to stress. What did it matter, anyway? It
wasn't like he was ever going to see the woman again.
As he climbed out of his red F-150 truck and looked out across the Disaster City Search and
Rescue Academy campus, his chocolate eyes narrowed as he licked his lips, not sure what to do with
the flurry of odd sensations coursing through him. On the one hand, he was excited about the new
opportunity, and on the other, it felt surreal being back in his home state. Running his hand through his
dark brown hair, he let out a heavy sigh, sent up a silent prayer for everything to go well, and
mustered the courage to go and check in with his new boss.
His canine partner, Nomad, must have noticed the tension in Marco's body. He barked softly, then
leaned against his partner's leg reassuringly.
Absentmindedly, Marco reached down and patted the golden retriever's head. "I know it's scary
starting over here, Nomad, but it's for the best." The words sounded hollow even to his own ears, and
he doubted his partner believed them any more than he did. "I was getting too old for that life," he
stated with a roll of his shoulders, the audible pop from his right arm only confirming his statement.
He couldn't even remember how many dislocated shoulders, broken bones, and head wounds he's
sustained over the years. Add to that the lack of a stable home life, and he knew he was making the
right decision. Once he got himself situated at the academy, he hoped he could finally settle down and
make a life for himself like the one his parents had.
They'd been hard-working Mexican immigrants who had come to the United States looking for a
better future for their family. They'd taken on various jobs until they were able to save up enough and
start their own farm. Growing up, Marco was a bright and determined young man and decided at a
young age he wanted to help people, becoming an Eagle Scout and volunteering at his local church.
But those small acts of service weren't enough for him. He decided he wanted to do more.
At seventeen, Marco decided to enlist in the United States Army. After going through basic
training in North Carolina, Marco was even more determined to serve his country and volunteered for
the Army Ranger School at Fort Benning, Georgia.
The first few weeks of Ranger School were challenging for him, but he persevered and soon
began excelling. As his instructors began to notice how passionate and dedicated he was to the job,
they gave him extra assignments and challenges that pushed him even further outside of his comfort
zone. Despite the grueling workload, Marco remained focused on completing each task with
excellence and proving himself as a capable soldier.
At the end of Ranger School, Marco graduated with honors and was deployed to Iraq, where he
served in various roles, including that of a sniper, a scout, and a point man. He quickly gained a
reputation as one of the most reliable, capable, and fearless soldiers in his unit, earning him the
respect of his superiors and peers. But after five years of service, he knew something was missing.
That's when he made the decision to switch his focus. The first time he saw a soldier work with
his canine partner, he knew that it was his calling. Marco's uncanny ability to bond with his canine
partners made him stand out, and he quickly moved up the ranks and became one of the best canine
handlers in the Army. This led to him being chosen for a top-secret program to train special operation
force dogs for the Rangers. The program was extensive and difficult, but Marco passed with flying
colors. After completing the program, he was assigned to a unit of Army Rangers sent to Afghanistan.
His job was to lead his canine partners in search and rescue missions.
For the next decade, Marco and his various canine partners traveled around Afghanistan,
searching for missing personnel and saving lives. Marco and his partners were successful in every
mission they took on, and eventually were credited with saving over a hundred lives.
When he returned state-side, a golden retriever puppy entered Marco’s life back at the Army
Ranger training facility. He named the puppy Nomad, and after months of working together every day,
he became the perfect partner, giving Marco the perfect finish to a twenty-year career.
 By the end of his time with the Army, Marco was awarded a number of medals for his bravery
and service and was honorably discharged. Marco and Nomad had quickly become famous in the
search and rescue community as word of their success spread. It wasn't long after their retirement that
they were asked to join the Disaster City Search and Rescue team.
"Come on, boy, I guess we should go inside and see what's up," Marco said with a nod of his head
toward the academy's headquarters.
As they stepped through the front door, a familiar face appeared—Sergeant Dylan Burke, who
was an ex-Army Ranger who had served overseas with Marco, and Officer Sean West, a sheriff’s
deputy from the same hometown as Marco.
The two men couldn't contain their excitement as they rushed to greet their old friend.
"Marco," Burke exclaimed, clapping him on the back in celebration of his arrival. "It's so good to
see you."
"You, too," Marco replied with a wide grin.
"Welcome home," West added, giving Marco a bear hug.
"It's good to be back," Marco said with a smile as he pulled away and settled on his heels with
his muscular arms folded across his thick chest. He watched as his and Sean's golden retrievers and
Dylan's German shepherd circled each other for a couple of seconds, sniffing each other to determine
if they were foes or friends. When they settled back down at their partners' sides, it seemed like they
were content to co-exist.
"Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd end up working with you here at Disaster City," West
stated with a shake of his head.
"I was surprised myself when the job opened up, and I got it. I never planned on living a half-hour
away from my hometown," Marco stated.
"Just promise me you won't tell Courtney about any of our wild antics in our youth. She’s already
afraid I’m going to be a bad influence on the baby,” West pleaded with a worried look on his face.
"She thinks she knows everything, but there's no way she does."
"Your secrets are safe with me," Marco assured his friend. "It'll be great to catch up with the old
gang. I guess that means James is still in Woody, too?"
West nodded. "He's there, still running the family farm."
"And Courtney's some big, famous pop singer now, right?" Marco probed with curiosity.
His friend nodded a second time. "It seems you've been keeping up on all of us pretty well. I bet
that means you know that Courtney is taking some time off from touring after having the baby, and that
I made up with the rest of the West family.”
“It sure does. How is that after all these years?” Marco probed.
“I have to admit, it’s pretty awesome. I have a whole trio of brothers and a sister after being
basically an only child most of my life,” West admitted.
“How about you? How have things been since your parents passed away?” West questioned with
concern.
“Oh, you know how I am. Nothing bothers me,” Marco stated with a shrug. “Besides, my life is
pretty boring compared to yours.”
“Should I be flattered? You seem to be borderline stalking me with all you know about my life,”
West teased.
“What can I say? Not a lot to do with my spare time," Marco stated with a shrug. "Not a lot of
spare time, come to think of it."
"Isn't that how it always is as an Army Ranger?" Burke asked with an arch of his eyebrow. "No
day off, no layoff," he chuckled.
"That's true, which is why I decided at my age, it was time I retired. Twenty years was enough for
me," Marco explained.
"I'm just glad to have a fellow Army Ranger to back me up," Burke stated with an approving nod.
"Ouch, and here I thought I was your number one backup," West stated with a slap against his own
chest as if he had been wounded.
"A man can have two," Burke teased with a mischievous grin.
"Are we talking about work wives again or real ones this time?" Bilmont, a large man with dark
brown skin, asked as he approached the group.
"Don't act like you don't have both now, yourself," West challenged. "We've all met Brenda."
Bilmont’s cheeks darkened with embarrassment and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Okay,
so, now I'm officially moving on and leaving you to show the newbie around on your own." With that,
Bilmont spun around and took off before anyone could object.
After Bilmont had left, West and Burke began to show Marco and Nomad around their
headquarters. They began with the cafeteria, which was bustling with activity as everyone had just
finished the first part of the day just in time for lunch.
"Welcome to the cafeteria, the hub of our activity," West shouted over the noise, gesturing to the
various cooks serving up meals from behind the metal counters.
Burke cut in. "They offer a different menu every day, along with standard items like sandwiches
and chips you can grab at any time the cafeteria is open."
They moved on to the next building, which housed the classrooms.
"As you can see, they come equipped with computers and the latest learning tools,” West
explained, pointing out a few computers and apparatuses scattered around the room.
The group moved on to the auditorium, where one of the classes for a different division was
watching a clip from some of the training exercises previously conducted. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
Burke asked with awe in his voice.
"This is also where graduation happens at the end of every month," West added.
Then they entered the veterinarian hospital, followed by the medical center where any of the staff
could get medical care for any injuries or illnesses. “And here is where we take special care for our
service animals like military search dogs,” Burke exclaimed, gazing at the attentive doctors and vet
techs taking care of their furry patients.
The next stop was to tour the kennels, which were available for any of the handlers to use for their
partners. "The kennels are great for when you have a doctor's appointment," West pointed out.
"Or a hot date," Burke added, then his eyes rounded as he shook his head. "Not that I would know
anything about that since I'm happily married to my wife, Jillian."
"Good recovery," Marco teased with a chuckle. "Good thing I don't know your wife yet; I'd hate to
have to lie to her if she asked me how our first day together went."
"It wouldn't be anything new to her. My wife is fully aware that I put my foot in my mouth all the
time," Burke stated with a snort and roll of his eyes.
Marco followed his friends around, feeling an increasing sense of pride with each step. He was
amazed by the high standard of professionalism, the efficient use of space, and the attention given to
details in providing for everyone's well-being.
The next stop on their tour was of the living quarters, which provided housing for personnel and
their families, as well as dorms for students. After he was given the keys to his townhouse, they made
their way to the training field, where recruits practiced their combat drills and practiced maneuvers
for upcoming missions. It was here that Marco got his first glimpse at what life would be like in this
elite force.
As they arrived back at the headquarters, Marco felt a wave of excitement wash over him,
knowing this would be his new home.
"This place is impressive," Marco said after seeing all that the campus had to offer. "I made the
right decision in joining your team here."
"Good. After meeting with the commander, why don't you head to your new place and get settled
in," West suggested. "You can join us for dinner tonight with our wives."
"That would be nice," Marco stated with a nod, eager to get to know the women who managed to
get two of his closest friends to settle down after years of bachelorhood.
"Let us know if there's anything else we can do to help," Burke offered before guiding Marco over
to the commander’s office for his official welcoming meeting.
After signing a few forms and getting briefed on protocol, Marco was officially part of the team.
He couldn't help but feel grateful for such an incredible opportunity and was eager to get settled in
and start working.
Even though he had the support of his friends, he wasn’t sure it was going to be enough to help
him make the transition from military life. It had been all he’d known for over twenty years, and he
wasn’t sure if he could make the adjustment well. Silently, he sent up a prayer, asking God to help
him. Marco knew he couldn’t do it without His help.
 2

S usan Chandler, a local investigative reporter, was determined to get every ounce of detail she
needed to make her feature on the Disaster City Search and Rescue Academy the best article out
there. She had been working on the background of the story for weeks, and today, her hard work was
about to pay off when she entered their headquarters for the first time.
“Lord, help me to make this the best story of my life,” she whispered, sending up a heartfelt plea
for help. “I need this story to be the one to get me to the next level.”
From the moment she had gotten the assignment, Susan knew this story was going to be something
special and was her ticket to the big leagues. For over a decade, she'd been treading water at one
low-level newspaper in the middle of nowhere after the other, waiting for her big break. Her parents
had told her for years that print media was a dying industry and that she should switch to online media
or television, but there was something in her that just wouldn't let her give up on being a traditional
newspaper reporter. Maybe it was from all the years of idolizing Lois Lane while she was growing
up, but she had to see this through and hope this story was going to be the one that finally made her
career take off.
Susan had always been a bit of a trailblazer, wearing power pantsuits that emphasized her tall
frame. Matched with her spunky smile and determined spirit, she'd been smart enough to figure out
early that people would underestimate her because of her gender and good looks. She used that to her
advantage whenever possible and didn't shy away from it. Now, she had a chance to make a real
difference, and she was determined to make the most of it no matter what it took.
With a deep breath, Susan pushed back her shoulders and threw open the doors to the academy's
headquarters, swinging her raven locks of hair over her shoulder in the process. She marched in and
headed for the half-moon-shaped desk at the front of the room, ready to take on every one of the male
chauvinist officers that got in her way.
She was greeted first by the heavy smell of dog, followed by a gruff, "Can I help you?"
Turning around, Susan couldn't believe her eyes. There, standing in front of her, was the rude guy
from the café in Woody with a deep frown that made it clear he recognized her, too. He was just as
good-looking as the first time she saw him, with his tall, muscular frame and chiseled face, but today
he was wearing a crisp blue cargo uniform with "DCSR" on one side and the name "Fernandez" on
the other. He was standing there with his hands on his hips, glaring at her with a scowl that looked
like it could burn the paint off the walls. But it was his K9 partner, a yellow Lab, that caught her eye
and helped her not to fall over right on the spot. She recognized the dog from the café, and he was as
friendly and eager as ever, seemingly pleased to see her again, completely the opposite of his handler.
 Susan bent down to pet the dog, but the rude officer snapped out his arm to stop her, saying,
“Don’t touch him. He’s a working dog.”
She knew that. How stupid of her to even try, but she was so off-kilter from unexpectedly running
into the rude officer that she wasn’t thinking straight. Deciding to ignore what just happened, she
stood up and said instead, "I'm here to report on the academy for an exposé. Can you show me to the
deputy commander’s office, please?” her voice wavering only slightly as she pushed out the words.
She decided it was best if she didn’t bring up the incident from the café, since she already seemed to
be on thin ice with the officer. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to deal with him much after he showed
her where she needed to go.
The rude officer studied her for a beat before nodding in understanding. "Follow me," he said
curtly. "I'll take you to the deputy commander's office. He's expecting you." He escorted her through a
winding path of hallways and rooms. After a few minutes, they arrived at the back corner of the
building. He opened the door, saying, "Go ahead and go inside."
"Fernandez, why don't you come on in here, too?" his deputy commander requested, though it was
clear from his tone there was no room to refuse.
They both entered the room, where a man with a graying head of hair and fine lines on his face sat
behind a desk. "Right on time, Miss Chandler. Please, take a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair in
front of the desk. "You, too, Fernandez."
Susan nodded and took a seat, keenly aware of the tension between Fernandez and his
commander. She noticed that the other man didn't take a seat, but instead moved to a spot behind her
and leaned against the counter. He crossed his feet at the ankles and his arms over his chest, making it
clear he didn't want to be there. It didn't matter to her one bit; the feeling was mutual as far as she was
concerned.
Glancing around the room, she noticed the various awards and certificates of achievement hanging
on the walls. Deputy Commander York was every bit as decorated as represented on the internet and
then some.
"So," the deputy commander began, a stoic expression remaining on his face as he continued. "I
was just about to give you an orientation about this academy, its goals, objectives, and programs,
Miss Chandler."
Even though Susan had done a ton of research about the place, she knew it was important to hear
the commander's point of view to round out her story. Susan settled into her chair and waited patiently
for him to go through the information.
The deputy commander went on to describe the structured environment and how that provided the
necessary discipline for preparing trainees to be successful search and rescue K9 handlers. He went
over their state-of-the-art equipment and training grounds, well knowledgeable instructors, ethics
codes for students and staff, day-to-day operations/expectations, and skills developed through
exposure to real-world events. He explained what type of knowledge recruits would acquire at the
academy, such as tactics involving psychology theory, emotional control techniques used during
conflicts, and procedures used while executing effective search and rescues safely.
Despite all of her own research, it hadn't even grazed the service of the detail the commander just
gave her. "I appreciate the information," she stated with a grateful nod. "This gives me a great place
to start my article."
"Look, D.C., I appreciate the recap on the academy's history, but I have a lot to do before my first
class arrives this week. Is there a reason you asked me to stay?" Fernandez inquired from behind her,
reminding her that he had been quietly standing there observing them this whole time.
 "Yes, I do have a reason, Fernandez," Deputy Commander York snapped out. "I need you to show
Miss Chandler around the facility."
"Me?" the instructor yelped out in disbelief as his eyes widened in shock. "I'm not sure how good
of a job I can do since I just barely got here myself."
"Well, the rest of the staff has other more pressing matters to attend to, so as my most junior
instructor, you're going to take on this task," Deputy Commander York ordered. "The commander
wants this handled quickly and efficiently, and we heard that you were good with the press when you
were with the Rangers."
"The Rangers, as in Army Rangers?" Susan jotted down the information in her notepad, making a
note to herself to research Fernandez later, her curiosity about the gruff instructor growing by the
minute. His name hadn’t come up during any of her research, and now that she knew he was new to
DCSR, she knew why.
"Yes, that's right," Fernandez stated with a huff. "But it doesn't matter. I'm new here, and I would
think someone from the team with more experience should show you around," Fernandez objected
further.
The deputy commander shook his head and slammed his fist on the desk. "No, and before you
complain again, let me be clear, if this doesn't go well, it can and will directly speak to your position
here at the academy."
"Great, just what I need," Fernandez grumbled under his breath.
"What was that?" the deputy commander asked with an arch of his eyebrow.
Fernandez pressed his lips together and shoved off the counter. "Nothing, D.C. I'll give Miss
Chandler a tour right now."
"Good, and afterward, send me an email with the details of how it went."
"Yes, D.C.," Fernandez said with a brisk nod. "Come on, let's go," he added, turning his attention
to Susan.
"Okay, where are we going to start?" she asked, slipping her messenger bag over her shoulder as
she stood.
"Well, I just went through the tour myself a few days ago, so it's pretty fresh. I think I'll just repeat
it with you," he informed her as he headed down the hallway. "Then we can be done with this whole
thing and move on."
"You can be done with it, but I'll be back tomorrow to start my shadowing," she told him with an
ecstatic smile.
"Your what?" he asked in confusion.
"Shadowing. My boss arranged with the commander for me to follow around a team while they
train and handle search and rescue cases."
"Missions, or assignments. They're never called cases," Fernandez corrected. “That’s an FBI
thing.”
"Noted," she said, writing down the distinction in her notepad. "Is there anything else I should
know?" she asked as she looked up over the edge of her book at the handsome instructor. And even
though she didn't want to admit it, that's exactly what he was--unarguably handsome. From his fit form
to his thick brown hair and matching eyes, his gruff demeanor couldn't erase how good-looking he
was.
"Nothing from my end, but I hope you don't plan on trying to spin this into a negative exposé,"
Fernandez growled in a warning tone as they made their way out of the building. “I know that’s how a
lot of you reporters do it to get more clicks on your link once your articles go live."
 Susan was offended by the suggestion. "I'll have you know, I would never do that. I deeply respect
any organization willing to commit resources, time, and energy toward helping young adults become
upstanding citizens willing to help others in need."
"Wow, you sound like someone selling something on an infomercial," Fernandez said with a roll
of his eyes. "Just so you know, I don't buy it. I've seen reporters change their tune when it benefits
them."
Susan stopped walking and placed her hands on her hips defiantly. "That isn't me," she stated
firmly as he turned to face her. "I value my integrity above all else. I won't report something if it isn't
true, and I won't bend the truth to make it look like something it isn't."
Fernandez tilted his head to the side, analyzing her and her answer. After a couple of moments, he
shrugged. "We'll see." It wasn't more than a couple of beats later that he guided her into the center of
the headquarters and explained what happened in the building.
She glanced down at the golden Lab beside Fernandez and asked, "Does your K9 partner follow
you everywhere?"
The instructor's eyes drifted down to his partner as if confused, then nodded. "It's what Nomad's
trained to do. He's supposed to heel and stay by my side until I give him the command to search."
"Always?"
"When we're on duty, yes. However, when we're on break or not on shift, I give him the cue that
he's off-duty, and he can relax."
"Impressive," Susan stated as she jotted down the information. "Such incredible training," she
murmured in awe. "Does Nomad ever make a mistake and react like he's on-duty or vice versa?"
"Not since he was a puppy," Fernandez said with pride. "I made sure of that."
"You've had Nomad since he was a puppy?" Susan asked with surprise, adding the background
information to her notes.
He nodded. "I've had the privilege of training my last five K9 partners myself."
"Again, that's impressive," she said, realizing that he might be just the hook she wanted for her
story. "Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"
"About the academy?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrows.
"No, about your background. I plan to feature several instructors and trainees to flesh out my
feature," she explained with enthusiasm. "I'd like you to be one of them."
"I'd rather not," Fernandez told her flatly. "But there are plenty of other instructors that I'm sure
would be more than happy to be in your article."
Susan tried to hide her disappointment and not take it personally. It wasn't the first time she got
told ‘no,’ and she just needed to focus on what she could control. "All right, then, let's keep going
with the tour." She wasn't about to let this stubborn and guarded ex-Army Ranger get in her way.
She’d just find another way to make her story great.
 3

M arco was in a rotten mood, but he was doing his best to keep it from showing. Being the
reporter's babysitter was the last thing he wanted to do, but here he was, guiding her from one
location to the next, all the while playing tour guide. He'd been preparing all week for his class, and
the last thing he needed was a distraction, no matter how attractive she was. And he had to admit,
Miss Chandler was downright gorgeous with her honey-colored eyes, silky black locks, and svelte
frame. It was all he could do not to stumble over his feet from sneaking glances at her.
He also tried to remind himself that it wasn't the reporter's fault he got saddled with showing her
around. Marco was the new kid on the block, and they were making him pay his dues. He got it, but it
didn't mean he had to like it.
The tour was supposed to continue through the main buildings, but Marco was too impatient and
immediately led her to his classroom. He plopped down behind his desk, figuring he could kill two
birds with one stone by going through emails while she looked around the place.
He was deep into his third one when he heard Miss Chandler say from behind him, "There doesn't
seem to be anything too important in here. Can we move on to a different area?"
Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned off his computer and stood up. "I guess I can show you the
kennels and veterinarian hospital next." They continued on the tour, with Marco reluctantly pointing
out the bare minimum points of interest. He could tell Susan wasn't thrilled with the job he was doing,
but he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care. All he wanted to do was to get the tour done
and hand her off to the next person she got to annoy.
"What's next?" she asked with enthusiasm.
"The cafeteria," Marco told her as he guided her inside the large building in the center of the
campus. He was extremely relieved to see that it was almost empty, aside from a few of his fellow
instructors. He quickly noticed that they were giving Susan more attention than necessary, but she
didn't seem to notice it.
Instead, she said, "That last part was incredible. I had no idea your facility was sporting such top-
notch equipment."
"The staff at the academy has worked really hard to fundraise enough money to cover the gap
between what the state provides and what we need," he explained as they walked through the
cafeteria.
"I didn't know that," Miss Chandler murmured as she wrote down the information. "What kind of
fundraisers?"
"Our most successful was 'win a date with a handler' contest," John Lee, one of Marco's fellow
instructors, told her as he came up to them with a flirtatious smile plastered on his lips. "I went for
one of the highest amounts, I might add."
Marco could tell Lee was trying to flirt with her, and he felt a slight twinge of jealousy come out
of nowhere. He pushed back the unexpected and unwanted feeling the best he could, and reminded
himself that he was there for one purpose--to do his job. As soon as he was done showing Miss
Chandler around like he was assigned to do, he could move on.
"Is that so?" Miss Chandler asked with a bit of surprise in her voice as she looked Lee up and
down. She didn't seem impressed, simply asking, "And what's your name, for the record? You realize
I have to confirm this before I can put it in my article."
"John Lee, I was a forest ranger before I took my position here at the academy," he explained.
"And you can confirm anything you want. Over dinner, if you’re interested," he offered.
Miss Chandler gave him a polite smile but didn't bite at the invitation. "I can just as easily
confirm the details with your deputy commander. Thank you."
"Suit yourself," Lee said with a shrug before sauntering off to join a group of instructors by one of
the windows. A few of them looked their way, clearly curious about the attractive raven-haired
beauty, but no one else came their way.
To his relief, Susan didn't address what happened but instead turned to Marco and asked, “Shall
we move on to the next area?”
He nodded in agreement and led the way out of the cafeteria. As they walked, Marco made sure to
keep a respectable distance between them so as not to give anyone the wrong idea. It did, however,
allow a couple of other instructors to stop them along the way. He was relieved when she seemed
uninterested in their advances, though he knew it shouldn't matter to him.
By the time they reached the training grounds, Marco had already forgotten about the other
instructors. His focus shifted toward showing her how they set up different scenarios for their
trainees. He gestured around enthusiastically as he explained each area and described what every
piece of equipment did, making sure to emphasize how much progress had been accomplished in the
field.
"I would have never guessed you were so new to the facility," Miss Chandler told him with an
impressed smile. “This is the first time you’ve actually seemed interested in anything we’ve done
together.”
"That's because I might be new to this facility, but not the job. I've been a K9 handler for fifteen
years with the Army, and it was what I was born to do."
“Can I quote you on that?” she asked as she jotted down his words.
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything,” he stated with a shrug. “But I don’t really see a reason for
you to include it.”
"And full of modesty on top of being capable," she stated with an approving nod. "I guess they
picked the right guy to give me this tour, after all."
He averted his eyes as he shoved his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable with the compliment.
"Well, that about does it for the tour," he explained as they headed back to the main part of the
campus.
"Wait, I read during my research that a majority of the staff and all of the trainees live at the
facility. Did we miss the living quarters?"
Marco shook his head. "There's nothing special about the dorms and staff living quarters."
“I’ll be the one to judge that,” she told him assertively. “Can you please take me there?”
He knew there was no point in arguing with the obstinate reporter. Reluctantly, he took her over to
the last area of the facility.
“How many floors are in the dorms?” she inquired.
“Six. Four for men and two for women,” he explained.
“And how many townhomes and cottages for the staff?” she probed.
“A dozen townhomes for single instructors, and six cottages for instructors with families.”
“So, you have a townhome?” she asked as she looked around. “Which one is yours?”
“Why do you assume I have a townhome?” he questioned with a skeptical look on his face.
She gestured to his hand. “No wedding ring. I assumed you were single.”
“A lot of officers don’t wear wedding rings because of the danger,” he pointed out.
“Okay, so are you married?” she asked, causing him to wonder if she was asking more for her
article or herself.
“Not married,” he stated in a clipped tone, without giving any more information. Even though he
found Miss Chandler attractive, he didn’t have time to indulge his impulses by pursuing anything with
her. He had his hands full with his new job.
“So, which one is yours?” she asked a second time.
Marco stiffened, not sure if he wanted to divulge where he lived. Then realizing he was being
silly, he pointed to his place. “That one’s mine.”
“Can I see it?”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he folded his arms over his chest defensively. “No, you can’t
see it,” he told her, uncomfortable with how she seemed to have no issue with overstepping someone
else’s boundaries.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she told him with a pensive frown. “I forget,
sometimes, to filter my questions. Never mind. I can request to see an empty one from the deputy
commander.”
That made Marco stiffen with dread. He knew his boss would be mad that he denied her request.
He supposed he could let her inside, especially since he’d hardly had any time to take any personal
effects out of their boxes. “You know what, I can show you my townhome really quick,” he told her,
pulling his keys out of his pocket.
Marco nervously unlocked the door to his townhome and stepped aside as Susan went in. She
looked around curiously, taking in the few photos of Marco with his friends from the Army, as well as
the neat stacks of boxes still sitting around.
“So this is home,” she said softly, a hint of disappointment in her voice as her fingers trailed
along the back of the couch. “It looks…cozy.”
He could tell she was being polite, but it wasn’t like him to pull any punches. “I know. It doesn’t
look lived in. I haven’t had time to make it my own, yet, but I plan to work on it after my first class
graduates successfully.”
“It’s okay. I totally get that. I’ve moved around a lot for my job, always trying to make a name for
myself with the right newspaper.”
Marco felt himself relax a bit at that, knowing she wasn’t here to judge him or his place of
residence. He smiled and nodded before calling out, “Come here, Nomad.” His K9 partner came
trotting over happily to the kitchen, barking once for a treat. When his partner barked again, Marco
chuckled and bent down to give Nomad one from the jar he kept handy on the countertop.
Susan watched with interest as Nomad eagerly gobbled up his treat before looking back up at
Marco expectantly. She laughed and slowly reached out her hand. “Here, can I give him one?”
“Sure,” Marco said, giving her the container.
 She pulled a treat out and reached out to Nomad, who quickly snatched it from her hand and
nearly swallowed it whole. She leaned down and gave him a quick scratch behind his ears, which the
canine seemed to enjoy as he leaned into it.
“He seems to like you,” Marco commented with surprise, impressed by how comfortable Susan
was with his K9 partner.
She gave him a friendly smile as she continued petting Nomad before looking back at Marco. “I
grew up with dogs, so I feel right at home with him,” she explained casually. “If I had more free time,
I would have gotten my own K9 companion a long time ago; they just make everything better
somehow, don't they?”
Marco couldn't help but agree with that sentiment wholeheartedly as he watched Nomad doze off
contently under Susan's gentle caresses. He felt touched that someone who barely knew him could
take such an interest in his furry best friend, causing his heart to soften toward her a little bit.
"I just want to thank you for your time," she told him with a warm smile. An overwhelming feeling
of contentment washed over him; it was nice to know that someone appreciated his hard work after
such a long day. "I could tell it wasn't what you wanted to do, but I appreciate it nonetheless." She
reached out her hand to him and waited for him to take it.
“Of course, it was no problem, Miss Chandler,” Marco said as he took her hand and shook it.
"You can call me Susan, since I'm sure we'll be seeing each other around while I'm working on my
article," she told him, her dimples pulling him in and causing a lump to form in his throat.
He was unable to form words and tried to ignore the pulse of electricity that shot up his arm from
where their hands touched. He wasn't sure what to make of it, and just as quickly as it happened, it
disappeared when she removed her hand, almost as if it never happened.
"Marco," he blurted out, almost shocking himself as much as her. "You can call me Marco."
“Okay, then, Marco, that wasn't so hard, was it? It only took me all day, but I finally got you to
relax around me," she teased.
Was that what this was? Relaxed? It sure didn't feel like it. As a matter of fact, it felt just the
opposite, like every nerve-ending in his body was about to burst into flames at any moment.
The humor dissolved from her face, and her eyes flickered from his hand to his face and back
again, almost as if she finally realized what was going on. Licking her lips, she quickly averted her
eyes, adding, "I should be going. We both have another long day ahead of us."
"Good night, Susan," he said, as he walked with her to the door.
"Good night, Marco," she said in return over her shoulder as she exited the townhome. "See you
tomorrow."
Marco couldn't help but notice how gracefully she moved or the way the lingering light from the
setting sun illuminated her features. He found himself wishing he had gotten to know her better during
their brief time together, rather than pushing her away at every opportunity. Still, he reminded himself
again he didn't need a distraction right now. He needed to focus on his new job and prove he
deserved to be on the team.
With a sigh, Marco locked up his place and returned to his office to go over his lesson plans for
the first week. As he worked through the evening hours, he had to force himself to keep his mind from
drifting back to the reporter and her irresistible charm.
"What's wrong with you, Marco? She's just a woman," he grumbled to himself. "Get over it."
Nomad barked beside him, letting his partner know he agreed.
"Yeah, what's your problem? She was clearly in to me," Marco heard Lee's obnoxious voice
challenge from the door.
 Marco wanted to shout 'you wish', but there was no way he was giving the other man any
ammunition. It was better if he played dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Okay, go ahead and act like you're not talking about that incredibly hot reporter you got the
privilege of escorting around all afternoon," Lee stated with a snort. "I was only coming in to grab my
jacket before heading into town to join a couple of the guys at a pub in Dallas." He seemed to be
wavering over what to do, then finally offered, "Want to join us?"
Marco shook his head. "Too much work to do."
Lee shrugged. "Suit yourself, but just remember, you already got the job. You don't have to prove
anything to anyone anymore."
Somehow, Marco doubted that. Just that afternoon, D.C. made it clear his position at the academy
depended on him meeting certain expectations. There was no way he was taking a chance on messing
things up by going out and partying. "Thanks, but I really do need to get the rest of my work done."
"Okay, but don't burn yourself out," Lee warned as he slipped on his jacket and turned around to
leave.
Marco pushed aside all of his troubling feelings about Susan and his job and, instead, resolved to
focus on getting ready for his class. With renewed determination, he finished going over his lesson
plans and then closed up the office for the night.
Back at his townhouse, Marco realized he didn’t have anything to eat, and the cafeteria was
already closed for the night. "Well, it looks like I’m going into Woody tonight to get some dinner,”
Marco told his K9 partner. “It wasn’t on the agenda, but I guess I can’t starve, can I?” He pointed to
the kennel and added, “And that means you have to stay here.”
Nomad barked, clearly displeased at being left behind.
“Sorry, boy, but the bar is the only place open, and I don’t want to take you in there.” It wasn’t that
he didn’t trust Nomad; it was that he didn’t trust everyone else to keep their hands off of his partner,
especially when it involved drunk people. “You’ll get a treat when I get back, and you can sleep with
me tonight to make up for it,” he promised.
Marco threw on a hoodie over his jeans, then slipped on a pair of tennis shoes before climbing
into his truck. A half-hour later, he was in downtown Woody and finding a parking spot near the local
bar. If he hurried, he could grab some food before they closed the kitchen at 9:30.
Marco stepped into the bar, not quite sure what to expect. He had heard from a few old friends
that the place had seen better days, but he didn’t know it was this bad. Looking around, he could see
drab curtains, distressed furniture, and a general state of disrepair. But one thing was certain, the
lights were on, and people were inside.
He stepped further into the room and was immediately greeted by a group of women in revealing
clothing. They were laughing and drinking heavily, and it was clear that they were there to party. They
smiled flirtatiously at Marco, and one of them reached out to touch his arm. He was taken aback,
clearly not there for that type of attention.
“I’m hoping you’re here for a good time,” one of the women said, clearly not taking the cue from
his lack of effort in attire and attitude that it couldn’t be further from the truth. “Come join us.”
Marco shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m just here to grab a quick bite to eat.” He looked
around for the bartender, hoping to place his order and get it to go.
“Well, you can always take a bite out of me,” the woman said, still smiling.
"Or me," one of the other women chimed in.
"Or all of us," the third woman said with a snicker and a wink.
Marco had had enough. "Excuse me, ladies, but I've had a long day at work, and I need to get
some real food in me." He gently removed himself from the huddle of women and headed to the bar,
pulling out his wallet after ordering a sandwich and fries. As soon as the food arrived, he quickly
grabbed his meal and made his way to the door.
Just as he exited, he saw Susan sauntering down the sidewalk. Their eyes met, and she looked
between him and the bar door. "Figures," she said with a roll of her eyes.
"What does that mean?" he questioned defensively.
"You seem like the type that would frequent a bar," she jabbed with a roll of her eyes.
"Is that so? I guess I need to remind you that the bar is the only place open this late at night, and I
needed some dinner." He lifted the bag of food and shook it lightly in front of her. "What's your
excuse?"
"I needed to go for a walk. It's how I process what I observed for the day before I sit down to
write."
"Uh-huh, and it just happened to take you by the bar," Marco pointed out.
"I'll have you know, I've never gone in that sleazy place," she snapped out in anger. "To be honest,
besides the grocery store and the newspaper office, the only other place I frequent regularly is the
church."
"Good thing I decided to start attending church in Faith Valley with West and Burke, then," Marco
stated snidely. "One less place to run into you."
"Why, I never," Susan gasped as her eyes widened with anger. "Could you be any ruder?"
Before he could muster an adequate retort, the drunk women from earlier came stumbling out of
the door and wrapped their arms around Marco. "Oh, look at what we found," one of the women
stated with a giggly slur. "And to think, we were about to take off to go find some better prospects."
Marco had no idea where they could go, considering the surrounding counties were dry, but he
wasn't about to argue with the women. His eyes darted from Susan to them and back again, trying to
figure out what he should do about the awkward situation.
"Why don't you come back inside, and we can feed you that food, sexy," the second woman cooed.
“Don’t let me keep you,” Susan said with a gesture of her hand toward the door before turning
around and hurrying off.
Marco wanted to stop Susan and explain she was wrong about him, but there was no time. He was
left standing in the doorway, confused and embarrassed. A couple of seconds later, the women had
successfully pulled him back inside, making every attempt to get him to stay with them. It took him a
full five minutes to disentangle himself from their groping hands again, his anger only rising with each
moment.
"This has to be one of the worst days ever," he grumbled as he climbed into his truck. Angrily, he
shoveled the food into his mouth on the drive back, barely tasting it as he swallowed each bite. "I
can't believe how much that woman can get to me. Thank goodness I don't have to deal with her
anymore."
Back at his townhouse, it didn't take long for Marco to give Nomad his treat, and then, they were
climbing into bed. The canine nuzzled up next to him and fell fast asleep. Slumber didn’t come as
easily for Marco; his mind kept drifting back to Susan and his unexpected reaction to her back at the
bar. He realized that despite how brief their interactions had been, she kept getting under his skin.
Still, it didn't matter. They both had jobs to do, and neither of them involved dating each other. End of
story. Turn the page. Move on. At least, that was what he kept telling himself all the way up until he
finally fell asleep.
 4

A snew
Susan drove through the gates of the Academy, she was looking forward to the challenge of her
assignment. She planned to put the uncomfortable moments of the day before behind her,
including the unexpected and unwanted surge of feelings that had surfaced for Marco, and how
irritated it made her when she saw him with the women at the bar. She was adult enough to
acknowledge that attraction was normal, but it didn't mean she had to give into it or get jealous that he
was spending time with other women. He was just a man, a man like any other man she’d encountered
on any number of assignments she'd had over the years. Besides, he should be easy enough to avoid
since the academy was massive, and there were dozens of instructors for her to focus on for her
article.
When she reported to headquarters, however, she received news that completely derailed her
plans to avoid Marco. "We've assigned you to the rural search and rescue team," the deputy
commander informed her.
Susan couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. From her research, she knew that Marco was
assigned to that very unit. She had hoped to steer clear of him, and she certainly hadn't been expecting
to be assigned to shadow his team. Of course, she couldn't object to the assignment, or the deputy
commander would know something was up, and there was no way she was about to admit the
awkward attraction she felt for Marco. No, her only option was to be even more determined not to let
Marco get to her in any way.
"Do you have any questions about the scope of your parameters?"
Susan shook her head. "No, but are they aware I'm coming?"
The deputy commander nodded. "I told Officer West this morning since he's in charge of the team.
You can meet them at their office on the other side of the building."
That didn't exactly tell her what she wanted to know, but she also didn't have a valid reason to
follow up to find out if Marco was aware of her assignment. She was just going to have to go in blind
and hope for the best. Silently she sent up a prayer for God to give her patience, then turned around
and headed to the rural search and rescue office.
When Susan arrived, her apprehension was eased slightly by the warm welcome she received
from the other instructors. Officer Sean West had assembled his team—Sergeant Dylan Burke and
Officer Terrance Bilmont with their K9 partners sitting obediently by each of their feet—and he made
the introductions with a broad smile. She didn't make it known that she already knew who they were
from her research, wanting them to feel comfortable with her rather than think she was inspecting
them like animals at the zoo. She noticed that Marco was absent from the group, but she didn't ask
where he was, knowing it would only bring more attention to the situation. Perhaps he was assigned
to something else for the day, which would be a welcome relief.
"What are you guys going to do?" she asked with hopeful anticipation.
"Prepping for our class that arrives tomorrow," West informed her.
"Oh, I see," she murmured, trying to hide her disappointment. She was hoping for a juicy first day
out in the field with the team.
"Not what you were expecting?" Burke asked with a smirk. "You should know that we spend a lot
of our time teaching, grading papers, and testing our trainees."
"Yeah, in between intense, life-and-death search and rescue call-outs," Bilmont stated with a snort
and a roll of his eyes. "Don't make us sound like boring old professors. We don't want to ruin our
reputation."
"Why do you care, anyway? You're married just like the rest of us now," Burke pointed out.
Before he could respond, she heard Marco say from behind her, "Well, this should be fun."
She couldn't miss the hint of sarcasm in his voice, but she chose to ignore it. Causing any tension
between them was the last thing she needed. As she turned around to face him, she was greeted with a
displeased look on his face. Nomad, on the other hand, seemed happy to see her and came trotting up
wagging his tail.
"Nomad, heel," Marco barked out, clearly perturbed that his K9 partner left his side without
permission.
Susan let it go without comment, deciding to take the high road. It was important that she remained
professional at all costs. "Okay, so why don't you guys get started, and I'll observe," Susan suggested.
The team got to work on their preparations and laid out the material they had to teach, and
discussed how it would be presented.
"We're going to cover the essentials of rural search & rescue with the class tomorrow," West
began. Even before he continued speaking, everyone was already leaning in with anticipation. "We'll
go over different terrains, weather conditions, and tracking a missing person, among other pertinent
information." He paused as all eyes stayed fixed on him. "Let's get started." Everyone jumped into
their chairs, eager to go over the practical skills needed for successful operations.
Next, Burke took over explaining some of the scenarios he had planned out for the class to work
through on the training grounds. "These tests will give a base of what we can expect from our trainees
as well as how we can best assess each individual's capabilities."
Throughout this exchange, Marco hung back quietly and observed the team, clearly trying to figure
out his own place in the group.
Susan noted everyone's determination and focus, but also paid attention to any discrepancies or
issues that arose during their discussions and how they handled them.
The chatter in the room grew more stagnant with time until finally, Marco broke the silence by
clearing his throat. "I have something to add." He began with a slight quiver in his voice, "I think it's
important for all of us to consider that each of the trainees will come in with different learning styles
and expectations, and we'll have to take that into consideration," he said cautiously, obviously not
wanting to overstep as the newest instructor. Everyone looked around curiously, surprised that Marco
had chosen to chime in.
"That's a fair point," Burke stated with an approving nod, then the rest of the team followed.
When everything was said and done, West thanked everyone for their hard work. "I think we can
wrap up for lunch," he told them with a wide grin. "We've made great progress, though."
After observing the team work together, Susan got a better understanding of their job in the
classroom and how they prepared for it. Just before leaving the office, they got an urgent call-out from
DCSR dispatch.
"It seems we have a mission, boys," West informed the group. Then, noticing Susan, he added,
"and lady." The rest of the group chuckled at the correction, but Susan remained quiet, not wanting to
cause any further disruption than she already was. "There is a set of lost hikers in the nearby
mountains, and the local authorities are asking for our assistance."
Instantly, the team jumped into action—gathering their gear and preparing for the new mission.
Susan was excited. She hadn't expected to see the team in action this quickly, and followed them
outside to the waiting DCSR truck. Her heart was pounding in anticipation, but also worry. She
glanced down at her outfit, hoping that her cargo pants, cotton blouse, and tennis shoes were right for
the excursion. Would she be able to keep up? Or would she end up slowing them down? She pushed
these troubling thoughts aside as Marco turned to her and said, "You ready for this? It's okay if you
want to stay behind if you aren't."
"I'm fine," she assured him with a fiery determination in the pit of her stomach. She hated how he
seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and used it against her.
As the team clamored into the vehicle quickly, eager to get going, Burke threw a vest over to
Susan. "You'll need to put that on so you're identified as part of our team at all times."
"And you need to stay behind us, too," Bilmont added. "If things get too dangerous, we're going to
tell you to hang back, and there will be no argument about that."
As soon as everyone was settled, Burke started the engine and drove off toward their destination.
The drive was tense and quiet; everyone was preparing for the upcoming mission in their own way.
Susan noticed that Bilmont was listening to music on his earbuds and tapping on his knees to the
beat, Burke was praying quietly to himself, and West was rubbing a cross around his neck.
"Rituals are important before you go out in the field; they make you feel safe even when you know
you won’t be,” Marco explained to her. "Every handler has his or her own version, and what works
for one doesn’t always work for another.”
“Why do you think each of you do it?” she probed, though deep down she knew the answer, she
wanted to hear his opinion on the matter.
“The routine makes us feel like we’re in control, even when we aren't."
"Is that so? And what's your ritual?” Susan inquired with a quirk of her eyebrow, hoping it might
give her a little more insight to the guarded ex-Army Ranger.
Marco paused for several seconds before responding. "I send up a prayer asking for God's
protection," Marco admitted in a whisper. "It usually goes something like this, 'God, let me live
another day and help me not to screw up.' It’s pretty simple, but it works for me, and it seems to have
gotten me and my victims home every time.”
"I understand that. I have a lucky pen that seems to have the same results for me,” she admitted as
she lifted the ballpoint up in the air. "I've used it during every major story I've written.”
"If your pen’s that important, I would leave it in the truck if I were you," Marco warned her. "You
wouldn't want to lose it out on the mountain."
"I've been in worse situations than this and never lost my pen yet," she informed him as she
clicked it off and slipped it into the spiral of the notebook for safe-keeping. "I've investigated illegal
dog fighting, black market prescription rings, and Broadway ticket scalping, just to name a few
dangerous topics.”
"Ticket scalping?" Marco asked in a tone that made it clear he didn't think it was dangerous at all.
"You'd be surprised how cutthroat those guys are," Susan informed him. “They were worse than
the other ones combined.”
"I'm sure you've been in your fair share of grueling situations, but I can guarantee you, nothing has
prepared you for what you're about to face. Hiking up a mountain as the night settles in around you,
with only a flashlight and a canine to guide you, is unlike anything else you've ever experienced. It
will be the most intense night of your life."
"If you don't mind, I think I'll use that in my story," she said as she wrote down the quote.
Marco shrugged. "Whatever works for you," he told her as he settled back into his seat and closed
his eyes.
She watched him for several seconds, still not sure what to make of the man who was, at one
moment, cold and distant with her as if he wished she was anywhere other than around him, and then
in the next, opening up to her and revealing details about his personal prayer ritual. She couldn’t
figure Marco out, and that bothered her. She was good at puzzles, but he was like a complicated one
that, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t solve.
As the truck continued down the road, Susan looked out the window at the passing scenery as she
tried her best to focus on what was going on around her, instead of worrying about what lay ahead.
She knew that she could do this—that she had what it took—but somehow, his words had gotten to
her, and doubt now lingered in her mind.
When they finally arrived at their destination, Susan felt a wave of dread wash over her as she
realized just how difficult this mission might be. There were thick woods in front of them, seemingly
stretching for miles in every direction, with no signs of civilization visible anywhere.
But then Marco gave her a reassuring nod before circling up with his team. She joined them,
listening to the details about the section they were assigned to search.
As they headed off with their K9 partners leading the way, Susan took a deep breath and followed
behind with her lucky pen and notepad in hand.
 5

T hethesun was safely tucked behind the mountain, and the night sky was filling with stars, which was
only illumination on the otherwise dark night. Marco was grateful for his team’s flashlights,
knowing that they would do their job of keeping unwanted visitors away and attract the attention of
the missing hikers if they were anywhere near.
Slowly, the team searched the western area of the mountain. Ahead of them lay only untouched
dirt, underbrush, and trees, making it clear that no one had come through that area in a long time.
Marco felt a surge of adrenaline course through him as he scanned the landscape for any sign of the
missing people.
"Any luck?" Burke asked as he came up beside him.
Marco shook his head. "Nope; how about you?"
"Nope. I'm going to cut through in the other direction. Radio me on our channel if you see
anything," Burke told his fellow teammate.
As Marco continued to follow Nomad, he was lost in his own thoughts as they made their way
across the terrain. His mind kept drifting to Susan against his will. Knowing that she was trailing
behind them only made it worse. Having her so close was a constant distraction he didn't want or
need.
"Is everything all right?" Marco heard Susan ask from behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder and nodded. "Just concentrating on finding the hikers. We should be
quiet so we don't miss anything." It wasn't a complete lie. He was doing just that, as much as he could
with her nearby.
Despite the fact that she was following protocol admirably and staying back and out of the way,
her presence was like an unwelcome beacon, constantly dragging his attention back to her when he
should be focusing on the search. He could feel her gaze on him, and the attraction he felt for her
against his will infuriated him. He had to steel himself and focus on the task at hand. He clenched his
jaw and kept his eyes straight ahead, determined to keep his attention on the search and ignore the
distraction she posed.
Hours passed by, and the night only got darker. The team still hadn't found any trace of the missing
hikers, and Marco's frustration was growing with each passing mile. Nomad had done his job well,
sniffing out possible leads and never giving up, but the search was proving fruitless. Each step they
took seemed to take Marco further away from his goal of finding the hikers.
The terrain grew steeper as they continued searching in the darkness. Marco glanced back at
Susan, who was walking steadily behind him. He wished she had stayed back at the DCSR facility out
of harm's way, but he knew it wasn't his call.
He paused and looked around warily at their surroundings—he could almost feel something
watching them, but he couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. Despite his unease, he stayed
focused on what he needed to do—find the missing hikers before it was too late.
His thoughts drifted back to Susan as he walked on, wondering if she shared the same attraction
he felt for her, or if it was just his imagination running wild on this dark night. He shook his head in an
effort to clear his mind of those distracting thoughts, and concentrated on watching Nomad's cues.
West waved his hand, signaling everybody to stop, causing Marco to snap out of his daze. "Do
you see this?" West asked, pointing to some animal tracks a few yards away.
The team huddled around the discovery, discussing what they could make of the evidence before
them. Marco spoke up, “We should check them out in case it leads us to the hikers.” He rose
determinedly as everyone nodded in agreement and began trekking toward where the tracks indicated.
The team cautiously made their way further up the mountain, Nomad and the other canines leading
the way as they spread out so they wouldn't miss anything. Marco kept his eyes on the path ahead,
scanning for any signs of the hikers. He could sense Susan close behind him and glanced back to make
sure she was safe. She smiled at him wearily, and he was about to say something when a loud roar
from somewhere in the darkness suddenly startled them all.
Marco and Susan stopped in their tracks, eyes wide with fear as their hearts pounded wildly.
Instinctively, Marco immediately stepped in front of her, hoping to protect her from whatever danger
lay before them as his gaze darted around, searching for the source of the roar.
Out of the corner of his eye, Marco spotted movement in the shadows and saw two yellow eyes
glowing menacingly from within. Nomad emanated a low growl, and Marco raised a hand to silence
his K9 partner. Slowly, the figure came into view; a mountain lion was stalking them. The big cat's
gaze locked onto them and it began slowly advancing toward the group. Nomad took a position in
front of both of them, clearly ready to do whatever it took to protect them. Marco reached for his gun
and slowly pulled it from its holster, ready to shoot if necessary.
He felt Susan's hand grip his arm tightly as he bravely stepped forward, determined to defend her
no matter what happened. The mountain lion snarled at him, but Marco didn't flinch or back down;
instead, he raised his gun in the air and fired two rounds.
The gunfire did its job, causing the mountain lion to take off running back into the shadows. The
group stood frozen in place until they were sure that the predator was gone completely before finally
exhaling. Marco glanced over at Susan, who looked both relieved and grateful. She squeezed his arm
again. "Thank you," she whispered with a small sigh.
"We need to radio that into command so they know what's going on," Burke told them as he came
trotting up with concern on his face.
"Agreed," West stated with a nod as he glanced around, clearly still on edge.
"The gunshots might draw more attention from wildlife nearby, so we need to be prepared,"
Bilmont pointed out, pulling out his own gun from his holster in preparation.
"But it could also alert the hikers that we're nearby, too, right?" Susan asked hopefully.
"Of course, it can," Marco assured her, but deep down, he was more worried the mountain lion
might have already gotten to the missing hikers.
Once they had checked in with command, the group continued to trudge up the mountain. They
were all exhausted from the climb but motivated to keep going on their mission.
It was only a half-hour later that they found themselves faced with a new obstacle: part of the trail
was destroyed by a rockslide. The team studied the rocks and trees before them, trying to find a way
past the area. Marco was determined to help his team make it to the hikers safely, despite how
difficult and treacherous the terrain was. One slip-up could cost someone their life.
"I think if we tie off a rope between each of us, we can squeeze by the cliffs and make it to the
other side," Bilmont suggested after several moments of contemplation.
"Do you think that's safe with her along?" Marco asked with a gesture to Susan.
"I can handle myself just fine. I've taken rock climbing classes before," she stated in a huff.
"This is a lot more difficult than rock climbing," Burke pointed out, glancing at her skeptically.
"We'll have to be extra careful then," West said as he began untying the rope from his belt and
handing it down the line.
With a hand on her shoulder, Marco made his way around the site of the avalanche. The area was
chapped with large chunks of rock and dirt that came rolling from the mountainside like waves in a
mid-sized ocean. It took a lot of patience, but with slow and steady precision, they made their way
around the dangerous area and continued on their mission.
As they walked, Marco kept an eye out for suspicious activity or any signs of the missing hikers,
but there was nothing aside from some animal tracks that had been left behind hours ago. "I have to
admit, you handled all of that pretty well," Marco told Susan as they continued up the mountain. "I've
seen soldiers crack under far less pressure."
"Says the Army Ranger turned K9 handler," she teased with a chuckle. "You have nerves of steel."
"Most of the time, but there've been times when even I've faltered. You should know, that was
really brave," he assured her.
"Thanks," she said as she brushed her dark locks behind her ears. "I've been on my own for a long
time, so I'm not used to working with a team."
"That's my favorite part about this job," Marco confessed. "I tried a lot of other jobs in the Army,
including scout and sniper, and I didn't like how lonely I felt. Between my K9 partner and the rest of
my team, I never feel that way."
"Must be nice," she said with an approving nod. “And I’m going to use that, too, in my story.”
In the distance, Marco saw a flicker of light. "I think I see something," he shouted as he pointed to
it with excitement.
Nomad immediately shot forward with Marco following close behind. As they neared the area,
Marco was disappointed to find only a small piece of a broken bottle glinting from their flashlights.
"That's okay. Maybe this means they were nearby," Susan stated optimistically.
Marco wondered if that were true or if they were just chasing ghosts out on the mountain. Still, it
wasn't like him to give up, especially when there were victims on the line.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Marco stood to his feet. "You're right; we need to keep going."
As they continued on with what felt like the hundredth push forward, Marco sent up a silent
prayer, asking God to help them find the missing hikers. If he was exhausted, he could only imagine
how tired Susan must feel. Glancing over at her, Marco wondered how much longer she could
realistically go.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm okay," she assured him with a pensive smile. "Remind me to bring hiking boots and leave
them at the academy."
"You could have asked. I'm sure one of the female instructors might have had a pair you could
have borrowed," Marco told her.
"I never thought of that. And now that you mention it, I'd love to interview a couple of them for my
feature."
 "I can run your request up the chain of command and let you know," Marco told her.
"Thanks, I appreciate it," she told him right before they heard a faint whimpering sound.
"What was that?" Susan asked as she stopped and glanced around with narrowed eyes.
"I'm not sure, but it sounds like someone crying," Marco observed as he, too, looked around in
confusion.
"Do you think it's one of the hikers? Or is it another wild animal?" Susan asked with
apprehension.
"Stay behind me, just in case," Marco told her.
Nomad seemed to be sniffing the area in earnest, pacing back and forth, looking for a trail that
only he could sense. Suddenly, he barked, then charged toward an area with several boulders and
thickly bunched trees. Marco followed after, and they soon discovered the two missing hikers
crouched down in the bushes.
 6

S usan was surprised to find that the two missing hikers were women who looked extremely similar.
They were clinging to each other in fear. The team rushed over, and the women burst into tears
when they realized they had been found.
"Are you Mindy and Mora Harding?" West asked as he looked between the two women.
They both nodded in unison, and Susan quickly determined they must be sisters--most likely
twins.
“We’re officers with Disaster City Search and Rescue, and we’re here to help,” Bilmont
announced to the women.
"Are either of you hurt?" Marco asked as he bent down and examined them both for visible
injuries.
"I'm not, but I'm so scared," one of them said as she reached out and placed her hand on the side
of his arm. "My sister hurt her leg, though, and I couldn't leave her out here alone. We didn't know
what to do."
"We just kept hoping that someone would find us, but minutes turned into hours, and suddenly the
sun was setting, and we..." the second sister burst into tears, causing her whole body to shake.
"It's okay, it's okay," Burke reassured her as he knelt down and patted her on the shoulder. "We've
been looking for you for several hours, but everything's going to be okay now that we've found you."
Burke and West did a quick assessment of the injured sister while Marco and Bilmont evaluated
the other. The younger sister was unable to walk due to her ankle being broken, and so after
bandaging them up, West radioed in for assistance.
"Command, this is DCSR 1. We've located the missing hikers two clicks northwest of the summit.
One of the females is injured and unable to walk out. We're going to need a helo evac ASAP as both
hikers are extremely dehydrated and in need of medical attention."
"Copy that, DCSR 1. Be advised; we're sending SAR Helo 1 to your location for immediate
evac," command responded back. "Stand by for an estimated time of arrival."
"How did you two end up so far from the path?" Susan asked as she settled into a spot next to
them to wait for the helicopter's arrival.
"We had been out for a morning hike and got turned around. We spent hours trying to retrace our
steps until my sister twisted her ankle," the older sister explained.
"We had no idea where we were, and our cell phones don't work," the injured sister whined,
finishing with a little huff. "I thought cell phones worked everywhere."
"You two don't hike a lot, I'm guessing?" Marco asked in a tone that made it clear he knew they
didn't.
"No, but what does that matter," the older sister asked through narrowed eyes.
Susan could have guessed the same, considering how under-prepared they were. Still, they didn't
deserve to be made fun of over it. "It doesn't," Susan quickly interjected. "And I'd love to ask you a
few questions and talk about how brave both of you have been for my article that's going to be
featured in the newspaper next month."
"What newspaper?" the younger sister asked with confusion. "I didn't even know there were
newspapers anymore. Isn't everything through social media now?"
"No, all the newspapers are just online now, silly," the older sister corrected. "She probably
writes for one of those."
"I'm actually a reporter for the Woody Herald,” Susan said, trying to hide her embarrassment over
how small the town was. The only reason she'd even gotten the assignment was because her boss
knew the commander of DCSR. Still, if the article was written well, it could get picked up by some
larger outlets and finally give Susan her big break.
“Woody Herald?” both the sisters questioned with confusion.
"Never heard of it," the younger sister said with a shake of her head.
"Isn't Woody some small town nearby?" the older sister asked with a perplexed look on her face.
"I think I passed by it once or twice."
"It's not too far away. I live there with my wife,” Bilmont explained.
"I didn't know that," Susan said, jotting down the information to remember to question him about
that later. She'd only been in Woody a couple of weeks because of her job, and she still didn't know
everyone and their connections.
"Why would you? You're not from around here," Marco stated with a snort. “I mean, I could tell
that from the first day you ran into me at the coffee shop.”
Was it that obvious that she wasn't a born-and-bred Texan? She’d tried her best to blend in over
the past few weeks, but clearly, she was failing. She must still have East Coast city girl written all
over her.
Brushing off his comment, Susan focused on the sisters, asking them a myriad of questions, not
only for her story but also to keep them distracted while they waited. The only problem was the older
sister wasn't paying much attention. Instead, she seemed to be overly focused on Marco.
Susan could feel her unease growing as she continued to watch the older sister's gaze linger a bit
too long on Marco. It wasn't like Susan had anything to worry about since she and Marco weren't even
dating. Still, Susan couldn't help but feel a twinge of something she didn't want to identify as she
watched them interact.
To take her mind off of it, Susan busied herself with taking notes and asking the sisters more
questions for her article. She even sprinkled in a few to the K9 handlers. It wasn't until the younger
sister made a joke about getting married, however, that Susan realized what was going on. The older
sister seemed to have taken an interest in Marco and was starting to attach herself to him in an
unhealthy way, and the younger sister was encouraging it.
"Geez, Officer Fernandez, you don't have to be so upset at the idea of marrying my sister," the
younger sister teased, laughing as she nudged him playfully.
He didn't seem to like what was going on, but he also didn't rush away, confusing Susan even
further. Did that mean he liked being the center of the sisters' attention? He didn't seem the sort to get
caught up in a young woman's crush, but she also didn't know Marco that well. Maybe it fed his ego.
"You never know; it might be nice," the older sister countered, batting her eyelashes at Marco. "I
mean, I am a pretty good cook."
Before Susan could dwell on the interaction any further, though, the sound of the helicopter roared
through the night, bringing with it a flood of relief and hope. Susan pulled her phone out to snap a few
photos, capturing the moment for her article.
Burke was the first to take one of the buckets and help the injured sister into it. Then he took the
second rope and attached it to his waist, his strong arms helping to hold on to the side of the bucket as
they glided up into the air. Once they were safely inside the helicopter, Marco attached the second
rope to his own waist as he waited for the bucket to come back down. He helped the older sister
inside before they began their own ascent. Marco's muscles strained against his cargo uniform,
emphasizing how fit he was. She watched as the sister reached over and squeezed his bicep, but he
didn't seem to pay it any attention. Susan did, however, and hated how jealous it made her feel and
how she wished that even for a second, she was the one he was rescuing, and she got to squeeze his
arm.
A few moments later, Marco and the older sister were safely inside the helicopter. The moment
felt surreal to Susan; it was like something out of an action movie or an adventure novel, only she was
actually witnessing it happen in real life right before her eyes. She continued snapping photos until the
helicopter disappeared out of sight.
The remaining K9 handlers secured the rest of their equipment and readied themselves for their
hike down the mountain. Even though her feet were killing her, there was no way she was going to
complain and let the rest of the team know that. She just had to get better shoes for next time and pop
some pain relievers when she got back to her place.
The hike back took a lot less time, and they were back at the command within an hour. They were
already cleaning up and getting ready to leave.
"You guys did a good job of locating those missing hikers," the local sheriff told the DCSR team.
"We couldn't have done it without you."
"How are the sisters doing?" Susan asked from behind the group.
"I wasn't aware we were taking questions from reporters," the sheriff growled out in irritation.
"I have permission to be here from the commander of DCSR. I'm writing a feature on the academy
and the rural rescue team," Susan explained.
"Still, I should have been asked if I was okay with it," he stated in a huff.
"We're sorry about that," West apologized. "But she didn't get in the way, and we are supposed to
take her on all of our assignments."
"Fine, and as for the hikers, they seem to be doing well despite their ordeal. They're headed to the
hospital right now."
Did that mean Susan wasn't going to see Marco again for the rest of the night? And if that was the
case, why did it bother her so much? He was just another part of her story, wasn't he? Pushing away
the troubling feelings he brought up for her, Susan turned back to the rest of the team. "I have a few
more questions for each of you."
"You can ask them on the ride back," West informed her.
There was a collective sigh of relief in the vehicle as everyone let out a sigh and rubbed their
tired eyes as they headed back to the DCSR facility.
"That was some great work out there," Susan commented, breaking the silence that had descended
upon them. "You all did really well."
The K9 handlers nodded in appreciation, and West added, "We did our best, and it paid off."
The ride back went much faster as she asked questions and took notes, and before Susan knew it,
they were at DCSR headquarters heading in for debriefing.
It wasn't until much later that Marco and Burke showed up. She decided to take the opportunity to
ask him a couple of questions. "How do you think things went up on the mountain?"
Marco simply shrugged, muttering, "It went fine."
Before Susan could follow up with another question, he turned away and left without another
word. With a shocked look on her face, she watched him go. Why did he react that way? What was
wrong with him?
"It isn't you; it's him," Burke explained as he came up to her. "Fernandez has a hard past, and it
makes him that way."
"Oh, yeah, like what?" Susan probed.
"That's his story to tell, not mine," Burke told her with a shrug. "Just know he's a good guy. There
isn't anyone I would trust having my back more."
Susan didn't doubt Marco was a great Army Ranger and an even better K9 handler. What she
couldn't understand was why he acted the way he did. Sure, everyone had tough times in their past,
but that didn't mean they had to sport a tough exterior to keep people at a distance.
Back at her place, Susan did her best to write up her notes from the rescue mission, but her
thoughts found themselves wandering back to Marco. It wasn't until her head hit the pillow for some
much-needed rest that she was finally able to escape the handsome K9 handler and the memory of his
tempting biceps.
 7

M arco stood in the hallway outside the academy classroom, watching as his first class of trainees
arrived. He had been preparing for this moment for weeks, and now it was finally here. He felt a
mixture of pride and anxiety as he surveyed the room, watching as the young faces filled with
anticipation.
Meanwhile, Susan stood just behind him, surveying the room with the same studied gaze that
Marco was accustomed to. Marco had grown so used to it that he no longer noticed it, though he found
himself acutely aware of it just then. He could feel her eyes on him, and he found the sensation oddly
conflicting. He tried to push the feeling away and focus on the task at hand.
The rest of the team was already in the classroom, working with the new recruits and going over
the first search technique. Marco entered the room with Nomad by his side and followed suit, doing
his best to keep the instruction light while still imparting the lessons he had learned about K9
handling strategy over the years. As he worked, he could feel Susan's presence, her eyes never
leaving him. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, there was something about it that made his
nerves stand on end. He knew that she was just doing her job, yet the scrutiny still made him
uncomfortable. He silently willed her to look away, to leave him to his work, but his wish remained
unfulfilled.
By the time they were wrapping up for lunch, he was relieved. Rather than go to the cafeteria and
have to deal with Susan watching him further, however, he decided to go back to his townhouse to eat
some leftovers he had in the fridge.
What he didn't expect was for a knock to interrupt his break. "Coming," he shouted as he wiped
his face and padded over to the door. He swung it open to find Susan standing on the other side.
Marco stared at Susan for a moment, stunned. What was she doing here? He quickly tried to
compose himself as he asked, "What do you want?"
Susan’s eyes rounded with surprise at the rude greeting, and he immediately regretted it. He
wasn't sure what it was about her that got under his skin so easily.
"I wanted to see if I could take you out to dinner tonight to get some more details about your
background for my story."
Marco shook his head, hating the idea of having to drudge up his past and all the painful memories
along with it. "No, there's really no need," he said firmly. "I already gave you all the information
necessary."
Susan sighed in frustration. "Look, Marco," she said, her voice taking on a slightly harder edge.
"I'm trying to write an accurate piece here. If I don't get all the details, then it won't be very good. I
have a lot riding on this, just like you do with your job here. This could be good for both of us."
Marco crossed his arms and glared at her. "I'm sorry," he said curtly, "but I don't think it's
essential for you to know all of my personal history just to get a few more clicks on your article. And
there's no way that confessing everything about my past would, in any way, help my career."
Susan raised an eyebrow and regarded him coolly before responding. "You're being stubborn,"
she stated bluntly. "And refusing to see anything other than your way." She stepped closer and
continued in a softer tone. "Look, I understand that this is personal and that you don't want to open up
too much, but I promise I won't put anything in the article that you don't want me to." She paused
before adding, “I'm sure you have a great story—don’t let your pride prevent people from hearing it.”
Marco opened his mouth to reply, but Susan had already started walking away without allowing
him to respond. She glanced back at him briefly with a look of disappointment before disappearing
around the corner, leaving him alone with only Nomad to comfort him.
"Well, that was unexpected," he grumbled as he shut the door and headed back to his lunch.
The thing was, he'd lost his appetite. He took his lunch and placed it back in the container, then
shoved it in the fridge. He grabbed his water and gear bag and headed to the training grounds with
Nomad by his side.
Marco arrived early to run through the first technique a couple of times with Nomad. By the end
of the third attempt, he felt ready to demonstrate it with the rest of his team.
Everyone else arrived shortly after, and the team gave the trainees a brief introduction. After
showing how the first technique should be done, they all split up to practice it themselves while the
instructors watched them.
At first, Marco noticed that several of the trainees seemed awkward and clumsy as they tried to
go through the motions of the advanced technique. Thankfully, almost all of the other trainees were
equally inexperienced, and none of them seemed to feel out of place. After a few attempts, though,
they started to get the hang of it. With each repetition, their movements grew smoother and more
natural until eventually, they were executing the technique with impressive ease.
The trainees' confidence grew as they progressed through each round, and their skills sharpened
considerably by the time they'd finished their session for the day.
As everyone gathered their things and headed out, Marco couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in
himself for having taken something so intimidating and helping to break it down into something easy
to learn.
"Why can you be so good with them but so awful with everyone else?" Susan asked as she came
up to him.
Marco stopped for a moment, processing Susan's words. It was true; he was able to understand
and help the trainees with whatever they were having trouble with. But when it came to dealing with
other people, he sometimes found himself at a loss as to how to best interact with them.
He sighed before responding. "I guess I just...understand people better when they're in a more
structured environment like this," he began, gesturing around him to the training grounds. "It's like
everyone steps out of their everyday lives and just focuses on learning what needs to be done here. It
reminds me of my time in the Army."
Susan nodded thoughtfully, considering his explanation silently for a few moments before finally
speaking. "I see. You like a structured routine," she replied simply. "That makes sense, and I
appreciate you explaining that to me." She smiled reassuringly at him. "How about that dinner now?
You could practice on me, you know, conversing with people outside of work."
Marco wasn't sure what to make of the invitation. On the one hand, the idea of having an intimate
meal with Susan seemed like a tempting offer, but on the other, he worried she would poke and pry
into his past, and he wasn't ready to discuss that with anyone.
"You know, I still have a lot to do to prepare for class tomorrow," he deflected. "And I'm sure you
have a lot of notes to process from today."
The smile vanished from her face, along with the twinkle from her eyes. "Honestly, I don't even
know why I try with you. I've never met anyone so distant or guarded in my life," she stated in a huff.
"I never asked you to try with me," Marco retorted. "You're always coming up to me and pushing
your thoughts and questions on me. Did you ever think that maybe not everyone is able to be as open
as you are?"
"You sure seemed to be open with that missing hiker you rescued last night," she snapped back in
anger. “Not to mention the women at the bar.”
"Even if that was the case, what business is it of yours?" he challenged with a look of anger. Even
though he knew he should back down, he couldn't help himself. She was causing him to lose all sense
of professionalism, and he despised her for it.
"Plenty, if I decide to put it in my article. I think the public would like to know that someone who
is trusted to rescue them is also as likely to hit on them given the opportunity," she clipped out as she
flipped her hair over her shoulder defiantly.
"I shouldn't be surprised. You're like every other reporter I've ever encountered; self-serving and
self-righteous," he growled out with resentment.
As he stood there glaring at her, Marco could barely recognize himself. He wasn't the type to get
personally involved with someone at work, let alone give that person the opportunity to make him
react the way she was, but here he was, fighting with Susan right in the middle of the DCSR training
grounds. What was wrong with him?
“No, I’m not. I simply want to do my job, and you keep getting in my way,” she challenged.
“How so?” he countered back.
“Because, every other member of your team has agreed to a sit-down and let me interview them,
but you won’t.”
“Is that so?” he stated with a raise of his chin in defiance.
“It is,” she said firmly.
“Then let’s fix it. Let’s go to dinner right now,” he told her flippantly. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Okay, then,” she snapped back. “Let’s do it.”
The next thing he knew, Marco was driving Susan to the waterfront in Woody, a quaint and private
spot perfect for a private dinner. The stars were brilliant above them, and the water lapped at the
edge of the river's sandy beach. It was hard not to be awestruck by the beauty of it and let himself get
carried away with the idea of it being a date.
As soon as they arrived, Marco hopped out and came around to her side, wanting to open the door
for her, but she beat him to it and jumped out of the car. "Not a date, just two people discussing their
work," she told him firmly.
The way she said it, he wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself more. Even
though he had agreed to the dinner under the guise that it was just a work thing to prove a point, deep
down, he wanted it to be something more. The problem was, he had no idea how to go about showing
her that. Plus, what if she didn’t feel the same way? There was no way he was going to be putting
himself out there like that if she was just going to reject him in the end.
The air inside was heavy with the warmth of the kitchen and the smoky smell of grilled beef and
garlic. Marco and Susan stepped inside and immediately spotted an empty table near the back. Before
they could reach the spot, though, they were stopped in their tracks as an elderly couple approached
them with warm, beaming smiles. Marco immediately recognized them as old friends of his parents’,
and remembered them fondly from his childhood.
“Oh my goodness, Marco,” the woman exclaimed happily. “Look at you in your new DCSR
uniform—how handsome. We haven’t seen you since…well, since your parents’ funeral. How are you
doing?”
Marco could feel his smile faltering a little, but he put on a brave face for the older couple. He
forced a grin back on his lips and waved off their concern with a polite gesture. “I'm doing all right,
thank you for asking. How about you?”
The couple exchanged a glance before the woman spoke up. “We're doing just fine. Joe just
retired, and we're getting ready to go on a cruise to Alaska," the older woman stated with pride. Then
her eyes drifted over to Susan, and she hesitantly asked, "Is this your girlfriend?"
Marco shook his head, realizing for the first time he hadn't introduced the woman beside him.
"No, sorry, this is Susan Chandler. She's a reporter writing a feature about the academy," he
explained.
"Oh, okay," the older woman said with a nod and a small blush. "My mistake."
"Sorry about my meddlesome wife. Beatrice doesn't know when to keep her nose out of things.
Why don’t we let you two go ahead and get to your table?"
"It was lovely catching up with you again, Marco. And take care now,” Beatrice called out over
her shoulder as her husband escorted her away.
Marco and Susan made their way toward the back table they had spotted earlier. As soon as they
were seated, Susan looked over at him sympathetically with concerned eyes. “Are you okay? That
must have been tough for you...seeing them must have reminded you just how long ago your parents
died."
Marco took a deep breath before speaking. “It was weird...but not unexpected, I guess," he said
slowly. "It's been hard being back here after everything that happened...so I've just been spending
most of my time at the academy."
Silence filled the air as they studied the menu before ordering a meal. Eventually, the
conversation shifted to Marco's time in the Army. As he sipped his soda, he began telling Susan about
his experiences overseas. He spoke of the grueling training, the countless hours of drills, and the
tension of waiting for the enemy to make their next move. He described how his K9 handler troop
was able to overcome all odds and successfully complete their missions, but his face suddenly
clouded over when he mentioned his team's greatest failure. He paused, taking a deep breath before
continuing.
"It was incredibly…hard, losing Frank the way I did. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it when it
happened. One moment, he was walking right beside me, and the next, an IED had taken him out. If I
had been ten feet to the left, it would have been me. It took me a long time to reconcile that and let go
of the guilt I felt over it. I trained Frank, after all. We’d gone so long without losing anyone, I almost
forgot that we were soldiers,” Marco mumbled, his voice thick with pain. "But in the end, I think we
managed to get past it."
Susan smiled gently, her eyes filled with understanding. She suspected he really hadn't, and that
was the reason why Marco was so guarded and closed off. He didn't want to lose another person he
cared about.
She asked a few more questions, wanting to know more about what he went through and how it
felt to be a part of something so important. As Marco spoke, Susan listened, carefully absorbing every
word.
"You know, I can't even begin to imagine how it felt to go through everything you did. And then to
lose your parents in a car accident so suddenly, right after Frank's death, it's no wonder you're afraid
to get close to people."
"That isn't it," he objected, but even as he said the words, she could see the truth was sinking in. "I
guess…that makes sense. I never really talked about it out loud before now."
"And you don't ever have to again if you don't want to. Just know I'm here for you if you do," she
assured him. "And everything you told me about Frank and your family is completely between us. I
just want you to know that."
"Thanks, Susan. It's nice to know I have someone to talk to.”
They spent the rest of the meal sharing about their childhoods and their dreams. It seemed that no
matter how hard they tried to keep things professional between them, there was always an undeniable
spark whenever their eyes met or when their hands accidentally brushed against each others.
Finally, after hours of talking, Marco looked into Susan's eyes with a serious expression on his
face. "I want you to know I would never do anything to put you in danger or hurt you in any way."
Susan smiled at him gratefully before leaning in closer and almost kissing him right then and there.
Before either of them could act on impulse, though, Marco’s cell phone rang with a call from West.
After Marco hung up, he pulled out a handful of twenties and placed them on the table. “It seems
we have another call-out we need to handle.”
“What is it?” Susan asked with curiosity.
“There’s been a massive sandstorm in the nearby desert, and several campers have become lost
and are in need of search and rescue.”
 8

T hethemDCSR team arrived in the desert, the vast expanse of sand and rock stretching out ahead of
like an unending ocean. The damage from the sandstorm could be seen everywhere, covering
up parts of rocks and hills that had clearly been visible prior to the disaster. Susan couldn't believe
the destruction left behind, and the chaotic landscape of sand dunes and collapsed structures all
around them.
Susan glanced over at Marco, still confused about their last encounter before their latest mission.
As they gathered their supplies, Marco stood off to the side, the silence a chasm between him and the
rest of the group as they chatted about how they were going to proceed.
Marco and Nomad had been assigned to scout the perimeter, and Susan was about to join him
when he abruptly turned and said, "Stay with the rest of the group."
Susan gave a curt nod and watched as he headed out into the desert, her heart racing as she tried
to ignore the anger and hurt simmering inside her over how quickly he flipped from being kind to
indifferent. Despite her best efforts, the feelings kept bubbling up, threatening to erupt with every
moment that passed. She wasn't sure how he did it, but he got under her skin in a way no one else ever
had.
What made her even angrier was that Marco never looked back, even though Susan knew he was
aware of her presence. She kept her mouth shut, determined to stay in control until they were done
with this mission.
"So, what causes dust storms like this?" Susan asked West as they gathered the gear they would
need for their trek into the heart of the disaster area.
"Years of drought and lack of land management," West explained.
"And really bad black blizzards can last for days or months," Burke explained.
"Black blizzards?" Susan questioned with confusion.
"Oh, sandstorms have many nicknames," Bilmont explained. "Dusters, Haboobs, Dirt Devils,
Sandspouts."
"I didn't know that," Susan stated with a nod as she jotted down the names.
"And they can come out of nowhere without any warning," West added, “which is why Marco was
sent ahead to keep an eye on the horizon. We don't want to get caught off guard by another round of it."
As the team trudged through the desert, Burke led the way, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any
sign of the missing campers. He motioned to Susan to stay close as they navigated the tricky terrain
with caution—it was especially dangerous in that area, with many hidden risks beneath the surface of
sand and rock.
 The team advanced cautiously, every movement measured and anticipatory. Susan stayed close,
her hand ever present on her notepad as she swept the area with a vigilant gaze.
"I think Nomad sees something," they heard Marco call out over the radio. "Yes, he sure does.
There's a makeshift shelter just up ahead. We're heading to it right now."
Susan wished she was with him right then to see if it was the campers, but it didn't take long
before they arrived at the makeshift shelter themselves.
When they got close enough, Burke stepped forward and pushed his way inside, his movements
surprisingly agile for someone of his size and build. Susan followed close behind, trying to ignore
Marco, who was already hard at work attending to the victims.
The group of five young men were pale and disheveled, their clothing worn and torn from what
looked like days of wandering in the desert.
"We were lost for days," one of them shouted, still in disbelief.
"We had been separated from our group half a week ago," another one of them explained. "We
were looking for water and ended up forgetting how to get back to our group. Without supplies or
knowledge of the area, a dust storm hit us. We thought we were goners."
Susan watched with a heavy heart as the team checked the victims for any signs of injury or
illness before leading them out into the open air, where they gave them water and protein bars.
"I think it best if we get these campers back to safety as soon as possible," West told the group.
"Agreed," Bilmont stated with a firm nod.
"The storms in the area are messing with the radios, so we're on our own for now," Marco added.
They quickly gathered up their supplies, then headed back the way they came.
The campers were deeply grateful for the heroic efforts of the DCSR team, and they recounted
stories about their ordeal stuck in the desert as they trudged back to safety.
"It was just us five that got separated from the group, but we thought we could handle it and find
our way back," one camper named Jeff said with a faraway look in his eyes. "We tried to ration our
food and water, but nothing seemed to help. After a few days, we were fairly certain we were going
to die out here."
The other campers nodded in agreement as Jeff continued his story.
"Then we saw the storm in the distance, and we knew we had to do something. Greg pulled out
his tent and pulled it over us in a makeshift shelter. We made it through the storm that way, but when it
cleared out, we were even more lost than before, and all our supplies were gone. That's when you
guys showed up," he finished with a relieved grin on his face.
Susan smiled at the campers as she listened to their story, and thanked them for their courage
despite their dire circumstances. She asked them a couple of questions after explaining why she was
there, but she didn't want to push them too much, as exhausted as they were.
After what felt like hours of walking in the oppressive heat, Marco noticed a shaded oasis not too
far off in the distance. "We can stop and rest there before we push on."
Despite being tired and hungry, Susan couldn't help but feel immense pride in her team's
accomplishment, and that was how she felt about them now, like she was part of their team. She knew
they'd accomplished something truly remarkable today: they saved five lives that would have
perished without them.
"You seem remarkably happy for someone stuck in the middle of the desert," Marco observed as
he took a seat next to her.
"You're deciding to talk to me now?" she questioned with an arch of her eyebrow.
"What, that's not allowed?" he teased with a shrug.
 "After how you treated me earlier, maybe not," she pointed out with a frown. "That was pretty
crappy of you after the nice time we had earlier on the Waterfront.”
"I know, and this doesn't excuse it, but it was all about me and had nothing to do with you," he
explained. "I'm horrible at communicating with people outside of work, as you well know, and even
worse when it comes to a woman I find attractive."
"You find me attractive?" she asked in confusion.
He nodded. "It's probably why I'm so awkward around you. There's something that happens when
I'm around you that I can't explain. It's like something is pulling me toward you, and I can't stop it.
Honestly, it kind of freaks me out. I've never experienced anything like it before."
Susan didn't know what to make of his confession. She hadn't expected it and wasn't even sure
how to process it, except she could feel her own heart filling with excitement over the prospect of
what it might mean for them. Before she could respond, however, the joy of the moment was quickly
tempered by a second wave of the massive sandstorm.
The blowing sand and dust blasted them from every direction, nearly knocking her over in the
process. The wind howled, and sand filled the air, obscuring everything in sight. Try as they might to
seek shelter, it was no use—they were completely exposed beyond the few flimsy trees above them.
Marco shouted orders over the loud gusts, trying to keep everyone together and calm. He placed
Susan at the center of the huddle, clearly hoping to keep her safe from the elements.
Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, she dropped her pen. She wanted to reach down to locate
it, frantic to find it, even though she knew it wasn’t important enough to risk her life.
As she looked out over the skyline, panic took hold of her heart. All she could see was a massive
wall of blowing dust coming straight at them, resembling what she could only describe as a land-
based tsunami. By the time it hit them, the blackness was so complete that she couldn't see her own
hand in front of her face.
Suddenly, she felt a hand take hold of hers, and she was being pulled in a direction she couldn't
identify. Her head told her to resist, but something deep inside her overrode the fear and told her to
trust the hand. A few moments later, the noise of the wind and the harshness of the sand disappeared.
"You can open your eyes now," she heard Marco tell her.
She did as he suggested, her eyes adjusting to the dark cave-like structure. "Where are we?"
"I think it's an abandoned mine," Marco told her. "The rest of the group was right behind us."
Just then, the other men stumbled through the mine's entrance, panting and out of breath.
"Is everyone here?" West called out. "Did we lose anyone?"
They spent the next couple of minutes making sure everyone was accounted for before settling in
to wait out the fresh wave of the storm.
The inside of the mine was dark and cold, but Marco was determined to keep everyone safe. He
organized the group into defensive positions in case any predators or other dangers tried to enter the
mine. He also took steps to secure their supplies so that nothing could be stolen while they were
inside sleeping.
"Are you okay?" Marco asked as he knelt in front of her. "Here, drink some water," he offered as
he held out a bottle.
She tried to take a couple of sips before handing it back with a wince. "It hurts my throat too
much," she explained in a husky whisper.
"The sand probably irritated your throat. It'll feel better after a few hours," he assured her.
"That was so scary. I've never encountered anything like that before," she whispered with a shake
of her head. "I honestly thought we might die out there."
 "I won't let anything happen to you, Susan, I promise," Marco assured her. Then reaching into his
pocket, he pulled out her pen and handed it over to her. “Oh, by the way, you dropped this. I thought
you would want it back.”
Her eyes widened with shock as she twisted it back and forth in awe. “You found my lucky pen?”
He nodded. “I saw it fall out of your hands, and I knew how much it meant to you.” Then glancing
over his shoulder, he said, "I need to go help the rest of the team, but I'll be back to check on you
soon."
Even though, in the grand scheme of things, Marco finding her pen was a small gesture, to her, it
meant everything. Deep down, she hoped it meant he cared for her as much as she did him.
The group had been in the abandoned mine for what felt like an eternity as they waited out the
storm. Susan was still shaken from their close encounter, but as time passed, her fear began to
subside. The whole ordeal had seemed surreal, and she couldn't help but be in awe of Marco's
bravery and strength in the face of danger.
Everyone was relieved when the storm began to clear up, and the group was eventually able to
make their way out of the mine. Thankfully, all of them had emerged with only minor cuts and bruises
from their shelter during the sandstorm. They were further relieved when they found out that their
journey back would be much easier due to a new path that had been created by the wind.
Finally being able to relax for a moment after their terrifying ordeal, Marco turned towards Susan
and said quietly, as if no one else could hear him, "Thank you for being so brave." It wasn't exactly an
apology or an admission of what he'd been feeling before; rather it was simply an acknowledgment of
her courage and strength at that moment—and it meant more than an apology ever could.
The sky was now dark and dreary, and the group had resigned themselves to a long night of
walking to reach the safety of the command station. The bemused but grateful group followed the
canines as they trotted ahead, their fur glinting faintly against the backdrop of the night sky. The
animals seemed to know the exact path, guiding them around dangerous debris and showing them
shortcuts through narrow passageways that would have otherwise remained hidden.
Susan wound her way through the crowd, her notebook in hand, asking questions and taking down
all the information she could gather. She was determined to use the opportunity to cover the disaster
and bring light to the situation in the region. Apparently, the campers knew a lot of people that had
their homes and crops destroyed by sandstorms. She eagerly jotted down their stories, wanting to
share them with the world.
"They've suffered so much, yet still managed to remain determined, hopeful, and kind," she told
Marco. "I just want to help."
Finally, the canines led the group to the command station. Lights twinkled in the night air, and the
sound of claps and cheers could be heard as they came into sight. Several waiting families embraced
the missing campers, giving Susan a sense of completion.
Marco glanced over Susan's shoulder and noticed what she had scribbled in the margin of her
notebook, “It was only through the courage of these canines and their incredibly brave handlers—true
heroes of the night—that many of these families were reunited.”
"Is that really how you feel about us?" Marco asked in awe.
Susan nodded. "After spending several days with you and going on two missions with your team, I
can safely say your team is worthy of every positive word I could ever write. I'm not even sure I can
do all of you justice, but I'm going to do my very best."
"Thank you," he whispered with an appreciative smile. "That means a lot."
"You know, back before the sandstorm hit, we were talking about how we felt about each other,"
Susan began.
"Correction, I told you how I felt about you, but you never said a word about how you feel about
me, or even if you do feel anything for me," Marco corrected.
"I would have if the storm hadn't hit," she corrected. But before it could turn into another fight, she
quickly added, "But that doesn't matter. What does, is that you need to know I feel exactly the same
way about you. Though for me, I'm pretty sure it goes beyond just simple attraction. I really like you,
Marco, at least when you let me see the real you."
"I know, and I'm working on that," he assured her. "I want to be better about opening up to you."
"Good, because despite all my reservations about getting involved with a subject from one of my
articles, I kind of want to see where this can go," Susan told him.
"Then maybe we should start with something simple, like dinner," he suggested.
"Hey, that was my idea," she rebuked as she bit her lip and slipped her pen back into her notepad.
"Okay, so why don't we agree? Great minds think alike," he teased with a chuckle.
"That sounds like a plan."
“Good, because maybe then you can let up on me a little bit,” he requested as he ran his hand
through his hair in frustration.
“What are you talking about?” she questioned with a look of confusion.
“You know, how pushy you are?”
“Excuse me,” she challenged as she placed her hands on her hips. “That’s not a very nice thing to
say about someone.”
“But it’s true. It’s probably what makes you such a darn good reporter. And to be honest, it was
exactly what I needed. I needed you to push your way into my life and my heart. No one else could
have done it but you.”
His sweet words melted away any anger she had currently felt over his analysis of her. She
smiled up at him with admiration in her eyes. “Good, because I plan to stick around for a while.”
"I wouldn't want it any other way," Marco murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He gazed
into Susan's eyes, whose flecks of amber seemed to swirl in the golden light of the sunrise. Taking her
gently by the shoulders, he pulled her to him and kissed her lips, warm and full of promise.
The kiss lingered, and soon, the two were lost in its embrace, oblivious to the beauty of the
moment as their freshly-developing love passed through them as they held each other close.
Marco and Susan reluctantly broke apart, their eyes still saying the things their words couldn't. "I
think this is the beginning of something special," Marco said, and Susan nodded in agreement, a smile
playing on her lips.
There was still so much to learn about each other and so many adventures to be shared. But right
then, at that moment, all that mattered was that they were together, and it felt so, so right.
 9

Seven Months Later

M arco and Susan breathed in the crisp autumn air as they sat on the porch swing of the tiny house
in Dallas that Susan had called home for the past six months. The sun was just beginning to peek
through the clouds, illuminating the orange and yellow leaves that surrounded them. They both felt the
weight of the moment as they stood there, grateful to know what the future held for both of them.
Marco was happy with his decision to make Disaster City Search and Rescue Academy his last
place of employment. He could see himself staying there until he was ready for retirement, a long,
long time from now. For Susan, that meant taking the big promotion she'd been dreaming of in Dallas
after her article about Disaster City went viral.
Even though they lived two hours away from each other, they were making it work. After all
they'd been through in the beginning of their relationship, they knew that as deep as their love was,
there was nothing they couldn't survive together.
They stood there together, neither moving nor speaking. The sun shone down on them, highlighting
the golden leaves of autumn that surrounded them. They were both gripped by a sudden wave of
emotion—joy, love, and uncertainty all mixed together into a single moment.
Marco reached out and took Susan's hand in his. He looked into her eyes and smiled. "No matter
what happens from here on out, I want you to know that I'll always be here for you."
Susan smiled at him through her tears and squeezed his hand. "That goes for me, too. No matter
what."
The sun continued to set in front of them behind the tall buildings in the distance, its warmth
radiating throughout their bodies as if giving them a much-needed embrace. As they watched the
beauty of the evening sun wash away any lingering doubts or fears they may have had, Marco and
Susan knew that nothing could keep them apart—not even distance.
Marco and Susan stood, hands clasped tightly together, watching the final rays of the sun
disappear into the night sky. The amber and purple light illuminated the leaves around them, a
reminder of the beauty and fragility of life. At that moment, Marco and Susan were filled with a sense
of hope for what was to come. Despite whatever struggles might lie ahead, they were determined to
look toward the future with optimism and courage.
Marco couldn't wait another moment. He went down onto one knee and pulled out a ring box.
Another random document with
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 “An elegant edition of an old devotional manual by a clergyman
who was a rector in Exeter at the beginning of the last century. It
seems to contain a great deal of valuable truth as to the sources of
evil thoughts and the mode in which they may be expressed.”—
English Independent.

“The book is worthy of a careful perusal, and is one which once

known is likely to be recurred to again and again, a characteristic not
always to be met within works of our own day.”—Record.

“Messrs. Rivington have done all that publishers could do to give

strengthening matter a cheerful form.”—Church Review.

THE ENGLISH POEMS OF GEORGE HERBERT,

together with his Collection of Proverbs, entitled
Jacula Prudentum.
“This beautiful little volume will be found specially convenient as
a pocket manual. The ‘Jacula Prudentum’ or proverbs, deserve to be
more widely known than they are at present. In many copies of
George Herbert’s writings these quaint sayings have been
unfortunately omitted.”—Rock.

“George Herbert is too much a household name to require any

introduction. It will be sufficient to say that Messrs. Rivington have
published a most compact and convenient edition of the poems and
proverbs of this illustrious English divine.”—English Churchman.

“An exceedingly pretty edition, the most attractive form we have

yet seen from this delightful author, as a gift-book.”—Union Review.

“A very beautiful edition of the quaint old English bard. All lovers
of the ‘Holy’ Herbert will be grateful to Messrs. Rivington for the care
and pains they have bestowed in supplying them with this and withal
convenient copy of poems so well known and so deservedly
prized.”—London Quarterly Review.

“A very tasteful little book, and will doubtless be acceptable to

many.”—Record.

“We commend this little book heartily to our

readers. It contains Herbert’s English poems and the
‘Jacula Prudentum,’ in a very neat volume which
does much credit to the publishers; it will, we hope,
meet with extensive circulation as a choice gift-book
at a moderate price.”—Christian Observer.

NEW THEOLOGICAL DICTIONARY.

DICTIONARY OF DOCTRINAL AND HISTORICAL

THEOLOGY. By various writers. Edited by the
Rev. John Henry Blunt, M.A., F.S.A. Editor of
the Annotated Book of Common Prayer. Second
Edition.

Complete in one volume of 833 pages, imperial 8vo

(equal to six 8vo volumes of 400 pages each),
and printed in large readable type, 42s. or half-
bound in morocco, 52s. 6d.

1. Nature of the Work. This Dictionary consists

of a series of original Essays (alphabetically
arranged, and 575 in number) on all the principal
subjects connected with the Doctrines of the
Christian Church. Some idea of the subjects, and of
the length of the articles, may be formed from the
following titles of those which occupy the work from
page 700 to page 720.

Sign. Spinozism.
Simony. Spirit.
Sin. Spirit, The Holy.
Sinaitic Codex. Sponsors.
Socinianism. Subdeacons.
Solifidianism. Sublapsarianism.
Soul. Substance.
Suffragan.
Sunday.
Supererogation.
Supernatural.
Superstition.
Supralapsarianism.
Supremacy, Papal.

2. Object of the Work. The writers of all the

Essays have endeavoured to make them sufficiently
exhaustive to render it unnecessary for the majority
of readers to go further for information, and, at the
same time, sufficiently suggestive of more recondite
sources of Theological study, to help the student in
following up his subjects. By means of a Table
prefixed to the Dictionary, a regular course of such
study may be carried out in its pages.

3. Principles of the Work. The Editor and his

coadjutors have carefully avoided any party bias, and
consequently the work cannot be said to be either
“High Church,” “Low Church,” or “Broad Church.” The
only bias of the Dictionary is that given by
Revelation, History, Logic, and the literary
idiosyncrasy of each particular contributor. But the
Editor has not attempted to assist the circulation of
the book by making it colourless on the pretence of
impartiality. Errors are freely condemned, and truths
are expressed as if they were worth expressing; but
he believes that no terms of condemnation which
may be used ever transgress the bounds of Christian
courtesy.

4. Part of a Series. The Dictionary of Theology

is complete in itself, but it is also intended to form
part of a Series, entitled, “A Summary of Theology,”
of which the second volume, “A Dictionary of Sects,
Heresies, and Schools of Thought,” is in the press.
“Taken as a whole the articles are the work of practised writers,
and well informed and solid theologians.... We know no book of its
size and bulk which supplies the information here given at all; far
less which supplies it in an arrangement so accessible, with a
completeness of information so thorough, and with an ability in the
treatment of profound subjects so great. Dr. Hook’s most useful
volume is a work of high calibre, but it is the work of a single mind.
We have here a wider range of thought from a greater variety of
sides. We have here also the work of men who evidently know what
they write about and are somewhat more profound (to say the least),
than the writers of the current Dictionaries of Sects and Heresies.”—
Guardian.

“Mere antiquarianism, however interesting, has little place in it.

But for all practical purposes its historical articles are excellent. They
are of course, and of necessity, a good deal condensed, yet they are
wonderfully complete; see for example such articles as ‘Atheism,’
‘Cabbala,’ ‘Calvinism,’ ‘Canonization,’ ‘Convocations,’ ‘Evangelical,’
‘Fathers,’ ‘Infant Baptism,’ &c., &c. But the strength of the book lies
in the theology proper, and herein more particularly in what one may
call the metaphysical side of doctrine:—see the articles on
‘Conceptualism,’ ‘Doubt,’ ‘Dualism,’ ‘Election,’ ‘Eternity,’ ‘Everlasting
Punishment,’ ‘Fatalism,’ and the like. We mention these as
characteristic of the book. At the same time other more practical
matters are fully dealt with. There are excellent and elaborate papers
on such words as ‘Eucharist,’ ‘Confession,’ ‘Blood,’ ‘Cross,’
‘Antichrist,’ to say nothing of the host of minor matters on which it is
most convenient to be able to turn to a book which gives you at a
glance the pith of a whole library in a column or a page. Thus it will
be obvious that it takes a very much wider range than any
undertaking of the same kind in our language; and that to those of
our clergy who have not the fortune to spend in books, and would
not have the leisure to use them if they possessed them, it will be the
most serviceable and reliable substitute for a large library we can
think of. And in many cases, while keeping strictly within its province
as a Dictionary, it contrives to be marvellously suggestive of thought
and reflections, which a serious minded man will take with him and
ponder over for his own elaboration and future use. As an example
of this we may refer to the whole article on Doubt. It is treated of
under the successive heads of,—(1) its nature; (2) its origin; (3) the
history of the principal periods of Doubt; (4) the consciousness—or
actual experience of Doubt, and how to deal with its different phases
and kinds; (5) the relations of Doubt to action and to belief. To
explain a little we will here quote a paragraph or two, which may not
be unacceptable to our readers.... The variety of the references
given in the course of this article, and at its conclusion, show how
carefully the writer has thought out and studied his subject in its
various manifestations in many various minds, and illustrate very
forcibly how much reading goes to a very small amount of space in
anything worth the name of ‘Dictionary of Theology.’ We trust most
sincerely that the book may be largely used. For a present to a
clergyman on his ordination, or from a parishioner to his pastor, it
would be most appropriate. It may indeed be called ‘a box of tools for
a working clergyman.’”—Literary Churchman.

“Seldom has an English work of equal magnitude been so

permeated with Catholic instincts, and at the same time seldom has
a work on theology been kept so free from the drift of rhetorical
incrustation. Of course it is not meant that all these remarks apply in
their full extent to every article. In a great Dictionary there are
compositions, as in a great house there are vessels, of various
kinds. Some of these at a future day may be replaced by others
more substantial in their build, more proportionate in their outline,
and more elaborate in their detail. But admitting all this, the whole
remains a home to which the student will constantly recur, sure to
find spacious chambers, substantial furniture, and (which is most
important) no stinted light.”—Church Review.

“The second and final instalment of Mr. Blunt’s useful Dictionary,

itself but a part of a more comprehensive plan, is now before the
public, and fully sustains the mainly favourable impression created
by the appearance of the first part. Within the sphere it has marked
out for itself, no equally useful book of reference exists in English for
the elucidation of theological problems.... Entries which display much
care, research, and judgment in compilation, and which will make the
task of the parish priest who is brought face to face with any of the
practical questions which they involve far easier than has been
hitherto. The very fact that the utterances are here and there
somewhat more guarded and hesitating than quite accords with our
judgment, is a gain in so far as it protects the work from the charge
of inculcating extreme views, and will thus secure its admission in
many places where moderation is accounted the crowning grace.”—
Church Times.

“The writers who are at work on it are scholars and theologians,

and earnest defenders of the Christian faith. They evidently hold fast
the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, and have the religious
instruction of the rising ministry at heart. Moreover, their scheme is a
noble one; it does credit not only to their learning and zeal, but also
to their tact and discretion.”—London Quarterly Review.

“Infinitely the best book of the kind in the language; and, if not
the best conceivable, it is perhaps the best we are ever likely to see
within its compass as to size and scope. Accurate and succinct in
statement, it may safely be trusted as a handbook as regards facts,
while in our judgment, this second part still maintains the character
we gave the first, namely, of showing most ability in its way of
treating the more abstract and metaphysical side of theological
questions. The liturgical articles also in this part deserve especial
mention. The book is sure to make its own way by sheer force of
usefulness.”—Literary Churchman.

“It is not open to doubt that this work, of which the second and
concluding part has just been issued, is in every sense a valuable
and important one. Mr. Blunt’s Dictionary is a most acceptable
addition to English theological literature. Its general style is terse and
vigorous. Whilst its pages are free from wordiness, there is none of
that undue condensation which, under the plea of judicious brevity,
veils a mere empty jotting down of familiar statements (and mis-
statements), at second or, it may be, third hand from existing works.
Dean Hook’s well-known Dictionary makes the nearest approach to
the one now before us, but Mr. Blunt’s is decidedly the better of the
two.”—English Churchman.
 “It will be found of admirable service to all students of theology,
as advancing and maintaining the Church’s views of all subjects as
fall within the range of fair argument and inquiry. It is not often that a
work of so comprehensive and so profound a nature is marked to the
very end by so many signs of wide and careful research, sound
criticism, and well-founded and well-expressed belief.”—Standard.

THE HAPPINESS OF THE BLESSED

CONSIDERED as to the Particulars of their
State: their Recognition of each other in that
State: and its Differences of Degrees. To which
are added Musings on the Church and her
Services. By Richard Mant, D.D., sometime
Lord Bishop of Down and Connor. New Edition.
Small 8vo. 3s. 6d.
“A welcome republication of a treatise once highly valued, and
which can never lose its value. Many of our readers already know
the fulness and discrimination with which the author treats his
subject, which must be one of the most delightful topics of meditation
to all whose heart is where the only true treasure is, and particularly
to those who are entering upon the evening of life.”—Church
Review.

“The value of this book needs not to be referred to, its standard
character having been for many years past established. The edition
in which it reappears has evidently been carefully prepared, and will
be the means of making it more generally known.”—Bell’s
Messenger.

“All recognise the authority of the command to set the affections

on things above, and such works as the one now before us will be
found helpful towards this good end. We are, therefore, sincerely
glad that Messrs. Rivington have brought out a new edition of Bishop
Mant’s valuable treatise.”—Record.

“This beautiful and devotional treatise, which it is impossible to

read without feeling a more deepened interest in the eternal
blessedness which awaits the true servants of our God, concludes
very appropriately with ‘Musings on the Church and her Services,’
which we cordially recommend to our readers.”—Rock.

THE SERVICES OF THE CHURCH. Containing the

Book of Common Prayer, the Proper Lessons
and Psalms for Sundays and Holy Days, and the
Daily Lessons, according to the Use of the
Church of England. Crown 8vo. 10s. 6d.

THE BOOK OF LESSONS. Containing the Proper

Lessons and Psalms for Sundays and Holy
Days, together with the Daily Lessons from the
Calendar. Crown 8vo. 9s.

AIDS TO PRAYER; OR, THOUGHTS ON THE

PRACTICE OF DEVOTION. With Forms of
Prayer for Private Use. By Daniel Moore, M.A.,
Chaplain in Ordinary to the Queen, and Vicar of
Holy Trinity, Paddington, Author of “Sermons on
Special Occasions,” Hulsean Lectures on “The
Age and the Gospel,” &c. Second Edition.
Square 32mo. 2s. 6d.
 “The valuable characteristic of this work will be recognised by
every serious, thoughtful Christian, in a word, by all who perceive
and lament the growing tendency to prefer the claims of external
service, ecclesiastical controversy, or multiplied activities to the
practice of private devotion. ‘Aids to Prayer’ offers both
encouragement and help to those who aspire to higher attainments
in the Divine Life. Every page bears the impress of a matured
judgment, and of an experimental acquaintance with a subject
confessedly difficult, and of supreme importance.”—Record.

“Eloquently, ably, and practically written.”—English

Churchman.

“‘Aids to Prayer’ has deservedly reached a second edition. The

sermon method of treatment has been wisely discontinued.”—John
Bull.

THE ATHANASIAN ORIGIN OF THE ATHANASIAN

CREED. By J. S. Brewer, M.A., Preacher at the
Rolls, and Honorary Fellow of Queen’s College,
Oxford. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.

THE REFORMATION OF THE CHURCH OF

ENGLAND: its History, Principles, and Results,
a.d. 1514‒1547. By John Henry Blunt, M.A.,
Vicar of Kennington, Oxford. Second Edition.
8vo. 16s.

THE CHURCH BUILDER. A Quarterly Journal of

Church Extension in England and Wales.
Published in connection with The Incorporated
 Church Building Society. With Illustrations.
Annual Volumes. Crown 8vo. 1s. 6d. each.

PAROCHIAL AND PLAIN SERMONS. By John

Henry Newman, B.D., formerly Vicar of St.
Mary’s, Oxford. Edited by the Rev. W. J.
Copeland, Rector of Farnham, Essex. From the
Text of the last Editions published by Messrs.
Rivington. 8 Volumes. Sold separately. Crown
8vo. 5s. each.

SERMONS BEARING UPON SUBJECTS OF THE

DAY. By John Henry Newman, B.D. Edited by
the Rev. W. J. Copeland, Rector of Farnham,
Essex. With an Index of Dates of all the
Sermons. Crown 8vo. 5s.

FIFTEEN SERMONS PREACHED BEFORE THE

UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, between a.d. 1826
and 1843. By John Henry Newman, B.D.,
sometime Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. New
Edition. Crown 8vo. 5s.

HERBERT TRESHAM. A Tale of the Great

Rebellion. By the late Rev. J. M. Neale, D.D.
New Edition. Small 8vo. 3s. 6d.
“We cordially welcome a new edition of Dr. Neale’s ‘Herbert
Tresham.’ The scene is laid in the time of the great civil war, and
vivid pictures are drawn of some of the startling events that then
disgraced the history of this country. The martyrdom of Archbishop
Laud is described in a manner few besides its author could equal,
while the narration of the disastrous battle of Naseby, and the
disgraceful surrender of Bristol by Prince Rupert, afford proof of the
versatility of his genius.”—Church Times.

“A pleasant Christmas present is Dr. Neale’s ‘Herbert Tresham.’

Such a book is well calculated to correct current views of 17th
century history.”—Church Review.

“Nothing could be more admirable as a Christmas present.”—

Church News.

THE MANOR FARM: A TALE. By M. C. Phillpotts,

Author of “The Hillford Confirmation.” With
Illustrations. Small 8vo. 3s. 6d.
“The Manor Farm, by Miss Phillpotts, author of the ‘Hillford
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the dawning of light in superstitious minds.”—Morning Post.

“‘The Manor Farm’ relates how, under good influence, a selfish

girl became a useful and gentle daughter. The story is a capital
illustration of the value of perseverance, and it is a book that will be
very useful in parochial reading libraries.”—John Bull.

“A prettily got-up and prettily written little book above the

average of the class it belongs to.”—Edinburgh Courant.

PERRANZABULOE, THE LOST CHURCH FOUND;

Or the Church of England not a New Church, but
Ancient, Apostolical, and Independent, and a
Protesting Church Nine Hundred Years before
 the Reformation. By the Rev. C. T. Collins
Trelawny. Seventh Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.

SACRED ALLEGORIES. Illustrated Edition. By the

Rev. W. Adams, M.A., late Fellow of Merton
College, Oxford.

The SHADOW of the CROSS. The DISTANT

HILLS. The OLD MAN’S HOME. The KING’S
MESSENGERS. New Edition in one Volume.
Square 16mo. 5s.

The Cheap Editions may still be had, 18mo., 1s.

each, or 6d. in Paper Covers.

ENGLISH NURSERY RHYMES. Translated into

French. By John Roberts, M.A., Fellow of
Magdalene College, Cambridge. Square 16mo.
2s. 6d.

SICKNESS; ITS TRIALS AND BLESSINGS. New

Edition. Small 8vo. 3s. 6d.

Also a Cheap Edition, 1s. 6d.; or in paper

cover, 1s.
 CATENA
CLASSICORUM
A Series of Classical Authors. Edited by Members of
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Arthur Holmes, M.A., Senior Fellow and Dean
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Sophoclis Tragoediae.

THE ELECTRA, 3s. 6d. THE AJAX, 3s. 6d.

Edited by R. C. Jebb, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of

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New Edition, revised. 5s.
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Book I. 6s. Book II. 5s.

RIVINGTON’S
MATHEMATICAL SERIES
ALGEBRA. Part I. By J. Hamblin Smith, M.A., of
Gonville and Caius College, and late Lecturer at
St. Peter’s College, Cambridge. Part I. 12mo.
3s.; without Answers, 2s. 6d.
“The design of this treatise is to explain all that is commonly
included in a First Part of Algebra. In the arrangement of the
chapters, I have followed the advice of experienced teachers. I have
carefully abstained from making extracts from books in common use.
The only work to which I am indebted for any material assistance is
the Algebra of the late Dean Peacock, which I took as the model for
the commencement of my treatise. The examples, progressive and
easy, have been selected from university and college examination
papers, and from Old English, French, and German works.”—From
the Preface.

“It is evident that Mr. Hamblin Smith is a teacher, and has written
to meet the special wants of students. He does not carry the student
out of his depth by sudden plunges, but leads him gradually onward,
never beyond his depth from any desire to hurry forward. The
examples appear to be particularly well arranged, so as to afford a
means of steady progress. With such books the judicious teacher will
have abundant supply of examples and problems for those who
need to have each step ensured by familiarity, and he will be able to
allow the more rapid learner to travel onward with ease and
swiftness. We can confidently recommend Mr. Hamblin Smith’s
books. Candidates preparing for Civil Service examinations under
the new system of open competition will find these works to be of
great value.”—Civil Service Gazette.

EXERCISES ON ALGEBRA. By J. Hamblin Smith,

M.A. Part I. 12mo. 2s. 6d.
ELEMENTARY TRIGONOMETRY. By J. Hamblin
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ELEMENTARY HYDROSTATICS. By J. Hamblin

Smith, M.A. Part I. 12mo. 3s.

ELEMENTS OF GEOMETRY. By J. Hamblin Smith,

M.A. Containing the First Six and portions of the
Eleventh and Twelfth Books of Euclid, with
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Part I., containing the First Two Books of Euclid,

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ELEMENTARY STATICS. By J. Hamblin Smith,

M.A. 12mo. 3s.
 ⁂ Other Volumes are in preparation.

SELECT PLAYS OF
SHAKSPERE
RUGBY EDITION. With an Introduction and
Notes to each Play. Small 8vo.

AS YOU LIKE IT. Edited by the Rev. Charles E.

Moberly, M.A., Assistant Master in Rugby
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Oxford 2s.; paper cover, 1s. 6d.

MACBETH. Edited by the same. 2s.; paper cover,

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CORIOLANUS. Edited by Robert Whitelaw, M.A.,

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