Hold Your Breath (Search and Rescue) (12 page)

“Why don’t—” he started, but she cut him off before he could ask her to go to the meeting for the umpteenth time.

“No.”

After a glare, which she ignored, he stepped back so she could close her door. She cranked down the window so she could hear him, even though she knew perfectly well what he was going to say.

“Be careful.”

It was like she was psychic. “I will. Promise. I’ll see you after the meeting.”

He just nodded, and she faced front, her hand reaching for the gearshift. Before she could shove the truck into drive, however, he said her name.

When she turned toward him, an inquiring smile forming, he suddenly reached forward, slid a hand around the back of her neck, tugged her close, and kissed her—a hard, breathless, short press of his lips against hers. Her smile dropped away in shock, and she stared at him, eyes wide, as he quickly backed away.

“See you later,” he said, turning and walking toward where his own truck was parked. She continued to stare well after he climbed in and started the engine.

“Callum,” she said softly, touching her lips.

She could feel the burn of his stubble, and her stomach tightened with sudden, unmistakable heat. “Callum, what the hell?!”

She blamed the poor job she did hanging the shades on Callum’s kiss. It had taken up a great deal of her brainpower over the course of the evening, and that was why her window coverings were just a hair lopsided. Lou backed toward her bedroom door to get a better look at the finished product. If she squinted and tilted her head to the right, they didn’t look
that
bad. Besides, any installation or repair in which she didn’t need to resort to duct tape and her staple gun was considered a success.

After putting away her tools, she looked around the cabin. Before hanging the shades, she’d done a whirlwind job of cleaning, and her house looked considerably neater than it had when she’d left that morning. Hopefully, it was clean enough not to provoke Callum into some sort of OCD-triggered seizure.

She lit the candles scattered around the cabin. The multiple flickering flames filled the rooms with a warm yellow light. It was very…romantic. She hurried to blow them all out again, not wanting Callum to think she was trying to set a mood.

Shaking her head, she stepped away from the last extinguished candle and scowled. It was silly to waste electricity just because she didn’t want to give Callum the wrong impression. Or
was
it the wrong impression? Her hand drifted to her lips for the thousandth time since Callum had kissed her, and she yanked it away in irritation.

Needing something to do, she grabbed a bucket from under the sink, stuck it under the tap, and turned on the hot water. While it was running, she squirted some dish soap into the stream and watched it bubble. She tossed in a scrub brush and a cloth and took everything to the front porch.

After she’d been scrubbing at the frozen honey for less than a minute, she heard the rumble of an engine. Looking over her shoulder, she saw headlights approaching. Although the logical part of her brain knew it was Callum, her stomach still jumped with nerves until she recognized his truck as it backed into the spot next to hers.

He was frowning as he climbed the porch steps. “What are you doing?”

“Scrubbing. The soap and water seems to be working. I was kind of worried I’d have to resort to Goo Gone.”

This explanation didn’t seem to appease him. “Where’s your coat? And boots?”

She glanced down, surprised to see she was just in her flannel long underwear and socks. She’d been in such a flustered rush to distract herself from his kiss that she’d stormed out without her outerwear. As if on cue, she started to shiver. “Um, I didn’t realize I wasn’t wearing them.”

Reaching past her, he swung the door open and waited for her to go inside. After picking up the bucket, he followed her, closing and locking the door behind them. “That can wait until tomorrow. Go by the stove and get warm.”

She curled up on her usual spot on the couch, grabbing a blanket hanging on the sofa arm and wrapping it around her. “How was the meeting?”

“Same as always,” he grumbled as he toed off his boots before reaching down to line them up parallel to each other on the mat. “Bitching and boredom. That pretty much covers it.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t go,” she said, laughing when he gave her a look.

He hung his coat on the hook next to hers, and his ever-present baseball cap on the next one down. Then he picked up the bucket and dumped the soapy water into the kitchen sink. He rinsed off the scrub brush and cloth before arranging everything in the optimal position to dry.

Lou realized she’d been staring at him. Not only was his backside exceedingly attractive, but his methodical way of performing tasks was a little mesmerizing. He seemed to fill all the available space in her cabin, as well as take up all the oxygen. That would explain why Lou suddenly was having a hard time breathing.

When he turned, the items apparently having been arranged to his satisfaction, Lou managed to tear her gaze away. Callum crossed over to the couch, pulled his radio off his belt, and set it on the end table. Then he plopped down on the sofa, on the opposite end from Lou, but still close enough to make every one of her nerve endings start to buzz. If she reached out, she could touch him. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she flushed and tucked her hands between her knees.
Stop thinking like that
, she told herself sternly. It would be easier if Callum wasn’t so incredibly touchable.

With a groan, he tipped his head against the top of the couch. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

As if those were the magic words, the dive-team tones sounded from his radio. Lou’s radio squawked in stereo from the bedroom.

This time, Callum’s groan was in protest, not relief, as the dispatcher relayed the call. “Complainant reports that his dog went through the ice on the east side of Verde Reservoir…”

Lou darted into the bedroom to grab her radio and yank on some pants before returning to find Callum on his own portable. “1210 and 1244 are both en route to Station One, ETA fifteen minutes.”

Lou’s eyebrows shot up. Callum was planning on driving
fast
.

“Copy,” the dispatcher said, her voice echoing through both radios, reminding Lou to turn off hers. They both quickly donned their coats and boots, grabbing their hats off the hooks.

“Your truck?” Lou asked, opening the door.

Callum nodded, listening to Wilt and then Derek call in that they were also en route to the station. He tossed his keys to Lou before switching the radio to the channel dedicated to the dive team. Shocked that he wanted her to drive his truck, she gaped at the keys in her hand for a moment before circling around the hood to the driver’s seat. Callum headed for the passenger side while talking into his radio.

“Wilt, you’re closer. Can you grab the dive van and meet us at Verde?”

“Copy,” Wilt’s easy drawl confirmed, right before Derek chimed in that he’d be at Station One in two minutes.

“Good, Derek, ride with Wilt,” Callum directed. Releasing the talk button, he turned to Lou. “Verde’s not far. You know the back way?”

“Kind of,” she said, getting a feel for his truck as they bumped over her snow-rutted driveway. As expected, the fluffy drifts from a few days earlier had hardened into rocklike mounds. “I know I turn right up here.”

“That’s correct.” He turned off his portable radio and switched to the one in his truck. He let dispatch know they were heading straight for the reservoir. Immediately after the dispatcher acknowledged Callum’s transmission, Med One, the ambulance, came on to announce they were also on their way.

“Not that I don’t love dogs,” Lou said tentatively as she turned onto the county road and accelerated, “and I feel kind of like an evil person for even saying this, but wouldn’t some people say we shouldn’t be risking the dive-team members’ lives to save an animal?”

“If we don’t rescue that dog, someone else—someone who doesn’t have the right equipment or training—is going to go after it. Then we have a person
and
a dog to rescue. Same with wildlife going through the ice.”

“Makes sense. Plus, I don’t think I could leave a dog to drown, so I’m all for it. Turn left here?”

“Yes.”

The truck fishtailed going around the corner, and Lou tightened her grip on the steering wheel. As she accelerated, the truck steadied.

“Good job, Lou,” Callum said, and she relaxed a little, sending him a quick smile before refocusing on the road. “The next turn comes up fast, right past that tree.”

“Got it.” The squatty evergreen did a pretty good job of hiding the narrow lane, but Lou managed to make the turn without overshooting it. Although the road was plowed, months of snowfall had reduced the width of the passable area until just one vehicle could fit. Lou said a silent prayer that no one would be coming from the other direction.

The radio crackled, and then Wilt’s voice announced that Dive Rescue One—meaning the dive van—was headed to the scene. As the dispatcher responded with a “copy,” Callum checked the truck clock.

“We should be arriving around the same time as Rescue One, as long as you keep up your speed.”

Taking that as a suggestion to take it up a notch, Lou eased her foot down on the accelerator, praying once again that they wouldn’t encounter any other vehicles on the narrow road.

“Switchback coming,” he said mildly.

“I’m impressed,” she said, feeling the antilock brakes shudder beneath her foot as they skidded on the packed snow.

“With…?”

“How well you’re dealing with not being in control.” She made the three-hundred-degree turn with only a minor slide to the left. “I’d be clinging to the door handle at the very least. I figured you would’ve had to drive by the time we left my driveway, even if you had to sit on my lap to do it.”

“Another switchback. And I don’t always have to control everything.”

“I see it.” The sharp turns slowed her down more than she would’ve liked, but she figured it would take them even longer to get to the reservoir if they ended up in the ditch, so it was worth the extra ten seconds it took to slow for the switchbacks. “And don’t give me that. I’ve seen your house. And your gear locker. And your truck. And the horrified look you gave
my
house, and my gear locker, and my truck.”

“Just because I’m neat doesn’t mean I’m a control freak. There’s a steep hill coming, and you’ll turn left at the bottom.”

“Thanks.” The hill presented no problems, and the regular turn felt easy after the two switchbacks. “And yes, you are a control freak. It’s not a bad thing, especially as our dive-team leader. You keep everyone safe that way.”

“Keep following this road. It’ll take us around to the east side of the reservoir. Does the control thing put you off?”

“Put me off? Of you, you mean?” She looked at him in surprise.

“Watch the road.”

“Sorry.” Her head whipped back around to face the snow-rutted path they were following. She saw emergency lights in the distance, approaching from the opposite direction. “There’s Wilt and Derek.”

“I see them. So, does it?”

“Not at all. It does make me want to scatter a handful of paperclips in front of you, though.” A thought occurred to her. “Isn’t this road to the reservoir covered in ice? Wasn’t that the reason you moved ice-rescue training to Mission Reservoir?”

“Yeah. Just get down as best you can. Try to stop before going onto the reservoir. We’ll worry about getting back up the hill once the dog is out of the water.” He paused. “And what the hell’s up with the paperclip thing? I’m organized, not Rain Man.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want to add a little chaos to your life. I should turn in here, right?”

“Right. Slow and easy.”

Lou held her breath as the truck slid down the icy slope, turning until the pickup was at a diagonal angle. It felt like they were on a wheeled sled more than in a steerable vehicle. The brakes weren’t helping, and she had an anxious moment when she thought they would just keep going until the truck was out onto the ice.
Please don’t let me drown Callum’s truck
, she thought.

But then the slope flattened, and snowdrifts helped to slow their forward momentum. They eased to a halt several feet from the shore. Her breath left her in a relieved rush.

“Nice lighting placement,” Callum said as he opened his door. Lou looked out on the ice and realized what he meant. The truck was angled so the headlights illuminated the broken ice and dark water surrounding the head of a struggling light-colored dog.

“Shit. Owner’s in the water, too.” Callum’s calm tone contrasted with his speed as he jumped out of the truck and ran for the back to get his gear. It took a second for his words to register before Lou realized there was a second hole in the ice, this one containing a person.

“Hang on, buddy!” Callum called to the person struggling to pull himself out of the water. Pieces of ice broke and sank beneath his flailing arms. “We’ll get you out of there.”

“Oh man,” Lou breathed, her stomach plunging to her toes at the sight of the two struggling victims. It was one thing to train, to pretend that Phil really was drowning, but this was reality—a true life-or-death situation. She grabbed for her portable radio and twisted the power knob, waiting impatiently for the beep letting her know it was working. She relayed the information about the second victim while hurrying to join Callum at the tailgate.

He’d already gotten his dry suit on halfway, so she held it up so he could thrust his arms in the sleeves. Her hands shaking, she pulled the hood over his head, zipped the back, and secured the Velcro flaps, following his movement as he reached into the bed of the pickup to pull out the rope and harness.

As she hooked the rope around him, red-and-white flashing lights lit the area, and the dive van crested the hill. Lou saw the brakes lock up as the van made the same sliding descent as Callum’s truck.

“Watch out,” he warned, but she was already moving. They scrambled back ten feet and watched as the dive van slid to a stop next to the truck. Lou refocused on fastening the rope around Callum’s midsection. Harness in hand, he jogged along the shore, looking for the most direct line to the man in the water. Lou followed, her gaze locked on the victim’s slowing struggle.

As Callum headed out onto the ice, leaving her on shore with the other end of the rope, Lou realized that she didn’t have her tug-of-war team behind her this time. She sent a frantic glance toward the dive van to see Derek and a dry-suited Wilt grabbing equipment from the back of the van, and she mentally begged them to hurry. Endless shoveling and stacking firewood had given her more upper-body strength than she’d ever had before, but the idea of hauling two good-sized men out of the water and across the ice by herself made her shake.

Callum was crawling toward the mostly submerged man. Although she couldn’t make out the words, Lou could hear him talking to the victim, his voice low and reassuring. Sliding on his belly across the final stretch, Callum slid feetfirst into the water just as the ice cracked beneath his weight. He had the harness fastened around the man’s chest in seconds, and the part of Lou’s brain that wasn’t completely terrified had to admire his dexterity. She knew from their aborted training session that it was harder than it looked.