She loved her job with something close to obsession. Why people couldn’t recognize that and respect her for it was beyond her understanding.

The noise calmed as the athletes settled into their routines. The newcomers vanished, and Devon took an unobtrusive spot at the edge of her peripheral vision.

Alisha put her irritation aside and focused on her body. On making it strong enough to handle anything tossed her way.

If only she could train her heart and soul as easily.

* * *

Devon watched.

It seemed he’d been watching forever.

Across the room, Alisha sipped from an oversized water bottle as she visited with the Lifeline pilot, Erin Tate. Alisha and the black woman next to her looked far too small to be lifesavers, but they were both forces of nature, and that knowledge made Devon smile more than the disparity in their sizes from the rest of the team.

The team winch man, Anders, lay sprawled over two-thirds of the couch discussing the latest mountain film he’d seen with Xavier and Tripp, their paramedic and avalanche specialist, respectively. The three guys were about as far apart in physical appearance as possible, but together they were a hell of a team.

Together they saved lives.

Whatever things made them stand apart didn’t matter to Devon, as long as they worked together when it counted.

The door opened and their boss entered the room. Marcus Landers was a legend in his own way. Not that Devon would ever say that—Marcus would tie him up and leave him dangling from a rope for mentioning how much he’d inspired Devon early in his career. And working for the man?

His level of hero worship at first was embarrassing to remember. Devon had finally put that reverence into what he considered good use. He’d joined Lifeline and committed to making a difference.

Marcus glanced around the room. “Damn. You’re all here.”

“Ha.” Erin flashed him a one-fingered salute. “You’re late. We should make you do training circuits to make up for keeping us waiting.”

Marcus grinned. The man was notorious for his creative training methods. And his creative punishments. “Just keeping you at the top of your game.”

“You enjoy it too much,” Tripp drawled. “We know better than to be late without a note from the hospital or fresh stitches.”

Everyone shuffled into position around the massive boardroom table. Alisha curled herself in a chair across from Devon, ignoring him to face Marcus. “This must be an important meeting. You didn’t bring us any doughnuts.”

Erin leaned forward and picked up the roll of paper Marcus had dropped on the table. “But he did bring us a treasure map.”

Marcus folded himself into the chair at the head of the table. “Treasure beyond your wildest dreams, Erin.”

She raised a brow. “I can dream pretty big.”

“Hey,” Anders interrupted. “Before you get started on the official meeting, what’s happening at the Banff training school? I bumped into your brother the other day, and he was grinning far too hard.”

“Probably still gloating over having Becki James as a head coordinator,” Devon suggested.

Marcus’s smile deepened at the mention of his lover. “The school is damn lucky to have her on full time. The grin, though, is because he got a new sponsor who set the school up with a couple of scholarships plus enough cash to revamp the entire training centre.”

Tripp whistled softly. “Sweet. Unnamed benefactor?”

“Some Toronto bigwig with more money than God. Said he wanted to help support the ongoing development of excellence.”

“Should see if he wants to pour some cash this direction,” Xavier suggested. “Because you know this place could use a little sprucing up, and we are excellent ourselves.”

Across from Devon, Alisha had stiffened, watching the banter, but no longer participating. The tightness to her body hadn’t been there moments before.

Conversation continued around them about what they’d do to fix up the staff quarters of Lifeline if they had a spare million to play with. Devon ignored them and instead thought through all the reasons he could for Alisha’s strange tension. She’d grown up in Toronto. That was the only connection he could come up with without doing more research.

Marcus tapped on the table to get their attention. “Okay, put your speculation about the Banff SAR school aside. I have news.”

“Raises?” Erin teased.

“Actually, yes.” Marcus waited until the hooting and hollering died down. “You’re a horde of wild animals this morning. What the hell did you have for breakfast?”

“I don’t know what she ate, but Alisha went climbing over a gym rat.” Tripp held his hands up in surprise as Alisha whirled on him in exasperation. “Well, you did, right?”

“How is my business all over this town in less than an hour?” She glared across the table at Devon.

He hated how quickly she looked at him to be the cause of her troubles, but then, being annoying was his usual ploy to distract her from the truth. “Don’t blame me. I have better things to do than gossip about your choice of workout equipment.”

“Nah, it wasn’t Devon.” Tripp held up his phone and showed Alisha the screen. Her face grew red as she stared.

Devon grabbed Tripp’s wrist and pulled the phone to himself to look. Facebook. Someone had taken a picture of Alisha and Photoshopped it so she appeared to be climbing over King Kong.

“Enough.” Marcus shook his head. “Bunch of children, all of you. You want the news, or should I take you to the nearest playground for a while?”

His grin remained firmly in place. Marcus knew the truth. The teasing and joking—it was all part of dealing with the stress of life-and-death decisions. They played hard, they worked even harder.

Marcus looked them over one by one as he spoke. “It’s been a good summer, guys. I’m proud of you and the way you’ve operated. There have been a couple of nasty situations we had to deal with, and you pulled together and made it happen. Thank you.”

Goofing aside, Tripp relaxed in his chair, his expression full of pride. “Did you hear back from that rescue we did up at Twin Falls? Did the dad pull through?”

“He did.” Marcus gestured down the table. “And that’s what I mean about good work. That man would be dead without you. All of you, working together.”

“It’s what we signed up to do.” Xavier shrugged.

“It’s what we love to do,” Alisha corrected.

“And it makes a difference. Don’t ever forget it. Last year you won awards. This year, you quietly did your job, and got it done. So again, thank you.”

“Easier without the media in our bloody faces all the time, anyway,” Erin muttered. She focused on the roll, giving it a poke. “I take it your secret news has something to do with this?”

Devon agreed. Curiosity ate at him. “Enough cheerleading, Marcus. I want to see what’s on the treasure map.”

Marcus gestured. “Go for it.”

Eager hands reached forward and unrolled the paper, securing the edges in place.

“A map of western Canada?” Alisha tilted her head. “Oh, cool. You’ve marked the locations of our rescues.”

Everyone leaned in, pointing to markers and commenting on the toughest parts of the rescue they remembered, or the most memorable.

“This is like a scrapbook, Marcus.” Erin eyed him. “Who knew you had it in you?”

He grinned. “Becki’s idea.”

“Go, Becki.” Alisha dragged a finger over the mountain range to the east of Banff. “It’s an awesome idea.”

“And, what’s more exciting? We’ll have markers in a much wider range over the coming months and years. This is my news.” Marcus leaned over the table and laid his forearms on a section of the map, his prosthetic left hand on the divider line between Saskatchewan and Alberta, his right arm down the center of British Columbia. “This, to date, has been our corridor. Now?”

He opened his arms wider and settled his right hand off the coast of Vancouver Island.

“Holy shit.” Erin leaned forward. “We’re taking over coastal duties?”

“Pacific rescues have been added to our list. With cutbacks to the government, donors decided to chip in to make sure we keep our nonprofit work going. We’re now on call to assist with any extreme situation between here and Port Tofino. As far north as needed.”

A thrill of excitement shot through Devon. “Does this mean I get to break out the scuba suit a bit more often?”

Marcus nodded. “In coordination with naval SAR, but yes. Your reputation as a guppy is now official.”

The grin stretching his cheeks felt awesome. Devon glanced at his teammates, pleased to see the same thrill on their faces.

Erin waved a hand in Marcus’s direction. “Does this mean you’re getting me a bigger, better chopper? Because those are some long-ass hauls you’re talking about.”

Marcus tossed her an oversized envelope. “Try a man in every port. You’ll have a chopper on the island to access—we’ll add a plane to the team here in Banff. And yes”—he caught her with her mouth still open—“you get a bigger bird to base here in Banff.”

Erin danced in her chair as she pulled out a manual.

Tripp and Xavier were debating which of them would get to drop from the new chopper first. Devon laughed, then glanced across at Alisha to see her response.

She stared at the map, her pasted-on smile so fake he could have peeled it off and put it on the shelf. “Alisha?”

She blinked at him before shaking off the cloud. “You and your scuba suit. I thought you were over that fixation after the time you got stuck in the kayak.”

He laughed. “That was a long time ago, and say what you will, it was a blast.”