He grabbed the dog by the scruff of his neck and cradled him as close to his chest as he could, shielding him from the burning inferno. The heat scorched him straight through his gear, so he could just imagine how the dog felt. Puppy, more like it. Unless it was one of those tiny dogs that people loved to dress up and put in designer purses and do a number of frivolous stuff with. He honestly had no clue. All he knew were the cries of the little girl screaming for her dog had him running back in the house.

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Probably the dumbest thing he could’ve done.

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Heat was coming from all directions. The flames licked at his body. The smoke mixed in didn’t help him to see a clear path out of the house that was sure to crumble at any moment.

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So dumb. All for an animal.

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But he would’ve never been able to live with himself knowing he didn’t at least make an effort for the little girl.

Crouching low as he walked down what he assumed was the hallway, he tried to keep his sanity as the flames seared his backside. If he made it out of this house with half his body coated in burns, he wouldn’t be shocked.

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His muscles started to get heavy, his breathing labored, even with his mask on and the oxygen flowing nicely.

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“It’s too hot.” He squeezed the dog reassuringly. “But I’m going to get you out of here.”

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Every time he turned his head, trying to get his bearings down, all he saw was orange and red. Bright flames waiting to fry him like a hot dog over an open fire pit.

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“Bentley. To your right.”

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The sound of his buddy talking in his ear sent a rush of hope straight to his veins. Like a shot of adrenaline. He had no idea what was to his right. More flames? More heat? More smoke? Freedom? He didn’t care. His fellow firefighter said to turn right, so he was going to turn right.

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Making the turn as fast as he could, the dog still clutched tightly in his arms, he didn’t pause as his buddy grabbed his arm and led him out of the house via the back door. Which was crazy, because he remembered entering the house through the front door. Searching for the dog and then attempting to find his way out had really turned him around.

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After getting far away from the house, he collapsed to the ground, set the dog down gently, who barely moved, and shoved off his helmet and mask, gulping in a huge breath of fresh air.

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“That was a close one, man. I can’t believe you went back in.”

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Bentley took another huge breath of air, then grinned at Charlie, his savior. “I had to get the dog. He’s a part of their family.” He looked down at the dog, who sat quietly by his side, his soulful eyes glancing up at him as if he understood what just happened.

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The dog was safe. The little girl would be happy. Nothing else mattered.

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Charlie clapped him on the back and chuckled. “You’re crazy sometimes. Glad you’re okay.”

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“Thanks for coming in for me.”

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“Always.”

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Charlie scooped up the dog and walked away. Bentley smiled as he heard the delightful squeals from the little girl as she grabbed her precious pet.

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It was a puppy. A small golden retriever that would live to see another day.

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Because of him.

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He couldn’t wait to get home, take a shower, grab a beer, and appreciate the silence for once. The fact he ran into a burning home that was ready to fall apart at any moment and saved a dog because a little girl pleaded for him to do so made him feel grateful to be alive.

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Thinking about it now, it had been a dumb decision to run back in the house. But it all worked out.

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Standing up, he tried not to imagine how badly the fire chief would ream him out for his reckless actions.

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He walked to the front of the house, where the rest of the crew battled the flames, and went right to the chief, who had a fierce expression on his face.

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“We’ll talk later. You hurt?”

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Bentley shook his head. “Not a scratch.” Shockingly. Because he swore he felt the flames blazing right through his turnout jacket.

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“Why are you still standing around?”

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He shoved his helmet on his head and jumped back in to help his fellow firefighters tame the fire burning through the Daughtry’s family home.

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They’d snuff this fire out, but it didn’t matter. Besides the barn standing tall and proud behind them, the house was a complete loss.

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Christmas was only two and a half weeks away. What a way to spend the holidays. Homeless.

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As he grabbed part of the hose behind Charlie, he couldn’t help but remember what happened to Theresa’s home last Christmas. Theresa was his best friend’s wife. He knew as soon as she found out, as well as most of the other townsfolk, the Daughtry’s wouldn’t feel homeless. The town would band together and make sure they had the best damn Christmas they could this year.

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Because that’s what they did in Mulberry. They looked out for each other.

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He knew exactly who’d be at the center of the organization to turn their crappy holiday into a beautiful one.

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Daphne.

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The one woman he let get away. The one woman he would never have.

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She was getting married in two and a half weeks. On Christmas Eve.

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The Daughtry’s might still have a wonderful holiday.

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But for him—this Christmas was going to suck.

(Copyright © 2018 Amanda Siegrist)