Alex lifted her brows. "Oh, then you have too much help?"

"You know there's no such thing in a disaster like this. We have to work fast or- Okay, we need you. I just don't want you to be hurt. God knows there's enough pain in this world."

And Sarah Logan witnessed a good deal of it, Alex thought. She and her golden retriever, Monty, were in a canine search-and-rescue team, and Alex had run across her on half a dozen disaster sites during the last five years. In the horror of natural and man-made tragedies, a strong bond of friendship had been forged. "I'll be okay."

"Your editor is right. This isn't your job." She shook her head. "Look at you. You're covered in dirt from head to toe. Your hands are bleeding from that shovel and you haven't slept in twenty-four hours."

"Have you?"

Sarah ignored the question. "And it's more than your hands that are bleeding. Take a step back, Alex. It will break you if you get too close to it. Believe me, I know."

"It's not as though I haven't been to other disaster sites."

"But then you weren't as involved. You were taking photographs and helping in the first-aid tent. You weren't uncovering the bodies of people you hoped would be alive'"

She didn't want to think of those bodies. There had been too many in the last few days. "Yet you do it all the time. You could stay home and live soft, and yet every time there's a call, you and Monty are off and running. I'm surprised your husband doesn't raise hell."

"He doesn't like it, but he understands." Sarah frowned. "But we're not talking about me. I've watched you work and there's no one more dedicated. You love what you do and you've told me a dozen times that your job is to tell the story. Don't get sidetracked."

"I'm not sidetracked. I'll get it done." She bent down and stroked Monty's soft fur. "I just can't- I'll get it done."