"Hang on, just hang on. I'll get you out of here, I promise." Colton West called to the woman at his side over the roar of devouring flames.

He'd already placed his helmet on her head, and was now covering his own as they rushed around and between fallen wooden beams consumed by the blaze.

Daylight appeared as a pinprick in the next room. Colton stopped.

"What are we doing?" The woman's voice was shaky, frantic.

To get to the daylight, they'd have to clamber over and around flaming debris. But that wasn't what made Colton halt.

The all-too familiar groan of support beams giving way reached his ears. In a split-second decision, he hurried the woman forward and helped her over the debris.

"Go!" He cried as soon as she was clear. The woman gazed at him with wild brown eyes before dashing through the door and out into the early dawn.

The beams were screaming now, bending and cracking in a shower of sparks.

Colton leapt over the debris and bolted. Two more strides, and he was out. Two more strides and he'd be picking his children up from school. Two more strides, and he and his buddies would be celebrating their success tonight.

The beams gave way.

*

"You just refuse to die, don't you?" Alan smirked, offering Colton a cup of coffee as he plopped down on the chair across from him.

Colton received it with his good arm and nodded his thanks. "And you refuse to change."

Alan shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips.

A stretch of silence passed between them as each thoughtfully sipped their morning brew.

Footsteps came from the hallway, followed by eager, disbelieving chatter.

Jackson and Rose rounded the corner, gawking at the newspaper.

"Colton, have you seen this?" Rose asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Colton shook his head, "Seen what?"

Jackson handed him the newspaper, and Rose fiddled with the TV remote.

Colton's heart skipped a beat as he read the heading of the article.

"Woman saved from house fire is under arrest for criminal history."

He kept reading.

"Florence Mason, a thirty-six year old hair dresser from Minnesota, was arrested on Thursday, October 10th, for her criminal background, after being rescued from a burning building.

Mason's crimes are extensive, including, but not limited to, theft, possession of illegal substance, kidnapping, and evasion of arrest..."

Colton stopped reading, his pulse thundering in his ears. Had he really saved a criminal?

His eyes flickered up to the TV, now on the local news channel and reporting the same things he'd just read.

The very same woman, with her deep brown eyes, wavy blonde hair, and slender stature, gazed back at him from the screen.

Resentment boiled in his blood.

A thief. A criminal.

And he'd rescued her.

His arm twinged painfully from beneath the splint, a reminder of what it could have cost him, if he hadn't been so lucky.

A thief. A criminal.

And he'd risked his life for her.

"Where did they take her?" He managed to keep his voice steady.

"The local prison, just down the street. I hear she'll be moved to a state prison next week." Jackson said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Colton nodded and rose from his chair, heading towards the door.

"Where ya going?" Rose asked. "Aren't you on duty 'till two?"

He paused, "Tell chief I'll cover the night shift." He gestured to his arm. "Not like I can do much, anyway." He forced a smile and exited the fire station.

*

Colton ran a hand through his hair with a frown, gazing at the newspaper article for what felt like the hundredth time.

"You'll need glasses before long, if you keep staring like that."

He set the paper aside and sighed, raising his eyes to meet the soft blue gaze of his wife.

She smiled softly and set aside her dishrag, settling herself in a chair beside him. "What's on your mind?"

Colton shrugged. "Still don't know what I'm supposed to think. I saved a criminal, for goodness sake."

His wife was silent for a beat. When she spoke, her voice was slow and thoughtful, "Maybe you're supposed to forgive."

Forgive. The word twisted like a knot in his gut.

How could he forgive a criminal?

His gaze darted across the photos lining the wall. Photos of his three children, so young and beautiful.

How could he forgive a woman who had kidnapped innocent children like his?

"How am I supposed to forgive someone like that, Leslie?" He hung his head in his hands.

"You can't."

He tipped his gaze back to her, arching an eyebrow. "But you just said-"

"Not on your own." She smiled empathetically.

Guilt struck him like a blade.

She was right.

He sighed. _God, help me. Because I can’t forgive this woman alone._

He rose from the kitchen table and kissed her before grabbing his keys.

"Off again so soon?" Leslie asked, craning around in her seat.

"There's someone I need to forgive."

*

Colton's mind fumbled for words as he waited, staring at the glass that divided the two sides of the room.

The door clicked. The officer that had instructed him to wait strode in on the other side with two other officers. Florence Mason walked between them.

They escorted her to her seat on the other side of the glass and stood back, waiting.

Florence stared at the table, her eyes tracing every groove and imperfection.

Colton hesitated, watching her. His resentment all but faded away entirely. Behind the criminal history was a woman longing to be seen. A woman longing to be loved. A woman broken in need of healing.

He drew a deep breath. "Ms. Mason, I don't know a lot about you, but I know enough."

Her eye twitched. "Here to grill me about my past, huh?" She drew her finger along the table, now circling the lines her eyes had followed.

"No." Colton said softly.

Florence's gaze darted to his, her eyes full of questions. Full of pain.

"I want you to know that I forgive you."

Her eye twitched again, her brows creasing as her gaze dropped to the table again. "I don't deserve to be forgiven."

Colton smiled. "Neither do I. None of us do."

He pulled something from his pocket and slid it through to her through the hole.

She frowned at it. "I ain't got time for religion."

"Its more than that." Colton said, "it changed my life."

Florence paused, eying the Bible. "I've tried to change. Don't waste your time on me."

"You can't change yourself, ma'am." He acknowledged, "but He can." He nodded toward the Bible.

A silence stretched between them.

"Whatever..." she shrugged indifferently. But Colton could tell by the way she eyed the book, her interest had been peaked.

"Time's up." One of the officers said from the corner, striding forward. Florence rose slowly, hesitated, and took the Bible.

Colton rose from his chair, an odd sense of peace washing over him.

He smiled. "God bless you, ma'am."

Florence gazed quizzically at him before being escorted from the room, Bible firmly in her hands.

_I may have saved her from the fire, but I can't save her soul. I can't make her choices for her, but I can still pray for her._

And perhaps, that was the best thing he could do.