Hold Your Breath (Search and Rescue) (13 page)

“Oh no,” she breathed. Callum was giving her the “pull” sign. She hauled on the rope, and it was much easier than she’d expected. Glancing behind her, she saw Wilt and a grinning Derek. Relief spilled over into a beaming smile. “My tug-of-war team is back!”

Wilt, obviously not getting her reference, blinked quizzically. Turning back toward the reservoir, Lou focused on getting the two men to safety. Callum had boosted the victim onto the ice and was holding him in a bear hug from behind. The ice was cracking and sagging beneath their combined weight, threatening to drop both of them back into the frigid water. With Derek’s regular command of “
Pull!
” they hauled on the rope, dragging the two men across the ice until it held solid beneath them.

The ambulance had arrived, but the EMTs had wisely left the vehicle on top of the slick slope and made their way to the shore on foot. As they helped Callum wrap warmed blankets around the victim and buckle him into a Stokes basket, Derek hooked a rope around Wilt. Confused for a moment, Lou realized with a flash of guilt that she’d completely forgotten about the dog.

Looking at the original hole in the ice, she didn’t see anything except water, and her stomach clenched. She joined Derek on the rope as Wilt headed out on the ice. Lou strained her eyes, trying to get a glimpse of the dog in the harsh light and shadows created by the truck’s headlights. Her breath caught when she thought she saw a muzzle poking out of the water.

It was torture, watching Wilt make his cautious way across the untrustworthy ice. Although she wanted to scream at him to hurry, she knew it would only delay the rescue if Wilt were to unintentionally go into the water too far from the dog. The ice must have been threatening to crack beneath his feet, because he started crawling and then slid to his belly after moving just a few feet farther.

When he finally reached the opening where the dog had fallen through, Lou realized she was muttering, “Oh please, oh please,” under her breath. Wilt swung his feet around and dropped into the hole. He reached beneath the water, feeling around for what seemed like ages, and finally hauled the dog to the surface, propping its front half against the ice so he could secure the harness around its middle.

She was so caught up in the drama of the rescue, Derek had to shout, “Pull!” before Wilt’s gesture registered.

“Sorry!” she yelped, before yanking hard on the line. Even with them down one person on the rope, it was easier this time. Wilt’s dry suit slid easily over the ice, and, although the dog was fairly large, it still weighed considerably less than its owner. As they drew closer, Lou could see the dog’s wet fur was already beginning to whiten as the water froze, and her throat clenched at the stillness of the furry body.

“I should’ve driven faster,” she whispered, thinking of all the places she’d hesitated instead of speeding up. If they’d gotten there just a little earlier, maybe the owner wouldn’t have tried his own rescue, and Callum could’ve gotten the dog out right away. Gritting her teeth, she gave a final haul on the rope that brought Wilt and the dog to the shore.

Callum hurried toward them with a second Stokes basket and several warmed blankets. The dog’s owner was gone, and Lou realized that the EMTs and Callum must have hauled him up the icy slope to the ambulance while she’d been focused on the second rescue. Dropping the rope, she rushed over to where Callum was taking the dog from Wilt. She hovered over them, feeling desperately unhelpful as she watched Callum and Derek wrap blankets around the too-still animal.

“Is he okay?” she asked, crouching down fairly close but out of the way of the rescuers. Although she didn’t want to distract them, she couldn’t take another second of not knowing if the dog would live.

“Heartbeat is faint, but present,” Callum responded, helping to lift the swaddled dog onto the stretcher. “Respiration slow and shallow. I can’t take his blood pressure. Our equipment doesn’t fit.”

“Are they going to take him in the ambulance?” she asked.

He nodded. “It’s going to take too long to get either of our vehicles up the hill. Dispatch has the Connor Springs emergency vet on call heading to the hospital. She’ll meet the ambulance there.”

“Good.” Her smile was shaky. “Think they’re going to be okay?”

His gaze was steady, so confident and trustworthy that she knew she would believe anything he said at that moment with all her heart.

“Yeah. I do.”

* * *

Callum and Wilt were stripping out of their dry suits, the ambulance having headed toward the hospital in Connor Springs, when the County road-maintenance truck they’d asked dispatch to request arrived to coat the icy reservoir road with sand and salt. After that, Callum’s pickup made it to the top of the hill in one try, although the dive van took two.

Trying to control her shivering, Lou waved at Wilt and Derek as they pulled away in the dive van. She headed toward the driver’s door of the pickup, only to stop short before she ran into Callum, who was headed toward the same destination. Relieved, she changed course to the passenger side. Now that the adrenaline was leaving her system, she was shaky and exhausted—so exhausted that she would probably fall asleep thirty seconds after sitting down. It was likely best if she didn’t drive.

“Aren’t you tired?” she asked through a yawn.

He glanced over at her. “Not too tired to drive. You can sleep if you like. I’ll be fine getting us home.”

It was a sign of her fatigue that Callum calling her cabin “home” didn’t send her into a state of panic. In fact, it warmed her insides.

“Thanks.” Now that sleeping was an option, she didn’t feel as tired. Blaming that on her contrary nature, she rested back against the seat, watching Callum’s profile. “That was crazy—in an amazing way. I mean, they both would have
died
if we hadn’t been there. It’s hard to wrap my brain around that.”

“Yeah. It is amazing.” Callum turned his head to smile at her. “Best feeling in the world.” He looked happy—tired, but happy. It was just how she felt. Her eyes drifted shut as she relaxed against the seat, trusting Callum to get her home safely.

She must have dozed, because it felt like the trip back to her house took no time at all before Callum was backing in next to her truck.

“Sorry,” she apologized, sitting up with a jerk.

“Why?” He frowned at her as he turned off the engine. “I told you it was fine if you slept.”

“I don’t know.” Tilting her head to the side, Lou stretched her neck and yawned. “Just an automatic thing, I guess. Plus, I feel bad about making you drive us home while I snored, when you have to be just as tired as I am.”

“It was fine.” He got out of the cab and circled the truck to open her door.

She blinked, staring at him. After the long evening and her too-short nap, everything felt fuzzy and unreal. Callum opening her door as if they were on a date was just…strange. Shaking off the weirdness of the moment, she climbed out of her seat and thanked him.

Callum closed her door and headed for the back of the pickup. He opened the topper and lowered the tailgate so he could pull out his gear. The water coating everything was already beginning to freeze.

“Mind if I hang this up inside?”

“Of course not,” she said, reaching toward the dry suit. “I can help haul everything.”

“Got it,” he said with a shake of his head while she closed the tailgate. “Thanks.”

They headed toward her front porch but had made it only a few steps before Callum stopped. “With some asshole wandering around here at night, we’d better lock the trucks.”

“Mine’s locked,” she said, shrugging when he shot her a surprised look. “You can take the girl out of the city, and all that. Where are your keys?”

He stopped trying to shuffle the gear in his arms and tilted his head toward his right side. “Coat pocket.”

For some stupid, ridiculous reason, sticking her hand into his pocket made her blush. Lou feigned casualness as she grabbed his keys, pressed the lock button on his fob, and returned them to his pocket.

“Thanks.” Although his voice was even, he was watching her in a way that made her think he’d either seen her blush or was just now noticing the awkwardness of the moment.

Either way, it was embarrassing, so she turned and hurried up the porch steps, digging for her house key. “No problem.”

“Hang on,” he said as soon as she’d unlocked the door. Stepping back so Callum could enter first, she watched him leave his gear by the door before making a quick sweep of the house. When he returned to the main room, he gave a jerk of his head that she took as an all clear, so she stepped inside.

They worked quietly to strip off their outerwear before hanging Callum’s wet gear. They’d need to rinse everything at Station One the next day, since Lou’s small kitchen sink was not up for the task. Most of the gear dangled from the coat hooks by the door, but they stretched his dry suit over a couple of straight-backed chairs that they pulled away from her kitchen table.

“You can use my shower,” she said, eyeing his damp thermal shirt. “I’m just going to crash, so the hot water is all yours.”

“Thanks.” His eyes flicked to the couch. “Do you have a pillow I could use?”

Her gaze followed his to her short, not-very-comfortable couch. The idea of finding sheets and pillows and pillowcases and blankets was suddenly overwhelming. She turned to look at Callum.

“Would it be weird if you slept with me?”

It was several long moments before he spoke. “It…well, I…”

Even in her exhausted state, she was a little proud she’d reduced the mighty Callum to stammering. “Not like in a sex way,” she tried to explain, stumbling more than usual over her words. Her sense of pride faded when she fumbled even more than he did. “Just in a loss-of-consciousness way. That couch isn’t really that comfortable to sit on, much less sleep on. I have only one bed, but it’s big, and I’m really tired, so I wouldn’t, like, attack you in your sleep or anything.” She paused. He was still staring at her. “If you wouldn’t be comfortable with it, that’s fine. I’ll just grab you some sheets and a pillow and stuff.”

She looked around, trying to clear her muddled brain and figure out where she kept the extra bedding. Remembering that she had some blankets in the hall closet, she figured it’d be a good place to check. As she started to turn, she was stopped by Callum’s hand on her arm.

“It’s fine.”

It was her turn to stare at him. “Um…which one is fine—the sleeping on the couch, or with me?”

“With you.”

“Good.” Her breath rushed out in relief. “I have no idea if I actually own another set of sheets.”

He gave her an appalled look. “Don’t you ever change your bedding?”

“Of course,” she huffed. “I wash them and then put them right back on the bed.”

“Oh.”

With an amused snort, she said, “You were about to change your mind about sleeping on the couch, weren’t you?”

He just grinned, picking up a backpack he’d left by the door when he’d first arrived that evening before the call. It seemed like days had passed since then. As he headed toward her bathroom, she stood still and watched him, dazzled by that huge, flat-out-beautiful smile. There were those
dimples
.

Shit. She was in so much trouble.

* * *

The wind wouldn’t stop. He pressed his hands flat against his ears, barely holding back a scream of frustration. It blew and blew, never ceasing, and it made him crazy. But he couldn’t just stay like that forever. Eventually he dropped his arms to his sides and moved through the trees, staying in the blackest shadows. The worst part of the wind was that it disguised other sounds—sounds like the crunch of snow under boots or the brush of moving fabric. Someone was following him. He knew it, but the wind hid whoever it was from him. The back of his neck burned every time he was watching her.

He reached the tree line and paused, scanning the cabin. The days were starting to run together, blurring time around the edges. He was late, and he’d probably missed her changing. It was okay, though. He’d still get to watch her sleep, to see her relaxed body and peaceful expression. He realized he was almost at the cabin, but he didn’t remember moving from the trees. It was getting worse.

He quietly approached the darkened window, his heartbeat speeding up as it always did. Maybe tonight he’d try the door, and it would be unlocked. He pictured her with her hand on the dead bolt, deciding to leave it open, just for him. Instead of sneaking inside, he’d walk through the cabin, knowing that she’d be waiting in her bedroom, in her bed…

He stopped abruptly. Instead of the usual darkened room, all he could see were closed shades. She’d blocked him.
Him!
How could she do that to him?

His chest started to burn as he moved around to the front of the cabin. It was time to make her understand that she was his. He’d tried to be gentle, to give her time to realize that she belonged with him, but now she’d shut him out. His anger growing, he rounded the corner of the cabin and jerked to a halt.

The man’s truck was there. She’d put up shades and had another man staying the night. His confidence that she was faithful shredded, and he could hear his ragged breathing. He knew he needed to be quiet or he’d be caught, but he couldn’t control it. His imagination was going wild as he thought about what was going on behind those covered windows. The rage was close, the kind that made him deaf and blind to everything until afterward, when he had to face what he’d done.

This time, he welcomed it. They needed to pay.

Lou woke with a start.

Although she had heard the saying, “asleep before her head hit the pillow,” she’d never experienced it until the night before. As she’d changed back into pajamas while Callum showered, she’d thought she’d be antsy, anticipating him so close to her, but a syrupy blackness had swallowed her mind as soon as she had gotten into bed and curled onto her side.

Now she lay still, hunting in the darkness for clues about what woke her. Callum lay next to her, his breaths deep and even. She didn’t think that was what had disturbed her.

No light was creeping in around the newly hung and only slightly crooked shades, and she twisted, reaching for the cell phone on her nightstand so she could check the time. It was two thirty. Her brain flew to the memory of the morning before, when she’d woken in the same way. Her stalker could’ve been watching her at that moment.

Her gaze shot to the covered window. She eased out of bed, not wanting to wake Callum until she had solid proof they should be concerned. Besides, the cabin was small. If her stalker was close, Lou’s scream could bring Callum running within a couple of seconds. She tiptoed across her bedroom floor toward the door.

“What’s wrong?” Callum’s voice, husky from sleep, made her jump.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t answer my question. And I’m up. You don’t need to whisper.”

“Right.” She should have known she couldn’t dodge his question. He was a master at spotting evasion—she’d seen him in action during training. “I was just checking on…things.”

Shoving down the covers, he swung his legs off the bed and stood. “What things? Did you hear something?”

“No. Maybe.” When he just cocked an eyebrow at her, she sighed. “I woke up. I’m not sure why. I just wanted to check things to see if there was anything to actually get alarmed about or if it was just my overactive brain.”

Frowning, he moved around her so he could leave the bedroom first. “Don’t be checking things by yourself. That’s why I’m here.”

“Fine.” Stepping behind him, she gave him a nudge. “Then go. Investigate.”

Callum shot a quelling look over his shoulder before starting his search of her house. She stayed behind him as he checked the dimly lit living room and kitchen. When he reached to open the pantry door, she flinched. This time, though, the broom stayed put. They moved to the bathroom. It was nice, having a shield between her and her own overactive imagination. Still, she jumped at the rattle of shower curtain rings as Callum yanked it open, revealing a shadowed, empty tub.

He headed toward the front door and began pulling on his boots. Unlike her fearful stumble around the house, his search had been quick, but thorough, and she was impressed by his technique.

“Were you in the military?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“What branch?”

“Marines.”

“Did you like it?”

He paused in the middle of reaching for his coat. At first she didn’t think he was going to answer, but he finally said, “I did. I liked the order and the discipline. After growing up in chaos, the structure was…reassuring.”

Shocked that the normally reserved Callum had actually shared something personal, she was quiet as he eased open the front door and slipped through it. The short rush of cold air that blew in before he closed the door behind him brought her back to reality. She hurried from window to window, watching Callum’s progress around the perimeter of the cabin.

With him gone, the dark shadows inside the house regained their menace. He disappeared around the corner of the cabin, and she ran for the next window, not able to breathe until she could see him again. Once he was back in sight, Lou made a face at herself. How had she returned to being a scaredy-cat in just the short time he’d been outside?

He paused for a minute outside her bedroom window, staring hard at the ground, but then he continued his circuit. Lou looked away from him for a moment, her eyes scanning the landscape. The trees were huge and menacing—not only in their ability to hide all sorts of frightening things in their shadows, but also their own shapes turned nightmarish in the dark. The tree limbs bobbed and dragged, potentially hiding someone who might be using the tree line as cover
right now
, staring back at her.

The door flew open, making Lou jump and swallow a scream. Bringing in another gust of frigid air, Callum reentered the cabin, stomping the snow from his boots onto the mat just inside the door. “It’s clear. I want to take another look at those tracks outside your bedroom window once there’s daylight, though. I think there might be fresh boot prints, but it’s too hard to tell in just the moonlight.”

A shiver coursed through her at the thought that her stalker might have returned while she was in a deep sleep. Knowing that the shades would have blocked his view helped, and having Callum there helped even more, but it was still unnerving to be watched.

“Go back to bed where it’s warm,” Callum said, having apparently seen her shake and misinterpreting the cause. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

She turned toward the bedroom. The woodstove caught her eye, and she started to make a detour in its direction. Since she was up, she might as well feed the beast. Besides, she didn’t want to go back to the shadowed emptiness of the bedroom without him.

Callum’s voice stopped her. “I’ve got it. Go to bed.”

Although he was bossy, he was also helpful, so she ceded firewood duty to him. She did give him a “careful, Buddy” look, however, so he’d know her easy-going nature had its limits. Lou wasn’t sure how seriously he took her nonverbal warning, since he laughed, although he quickly turned the sound into a strangled cough.

Even worse than entering the darkened bedroom by herself would be admitting that she was scared, so she made her way—albeit slowly—into the room. Not allowing her gaze to travel to the windows and whoever might be lurking outside, she slid into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Lou felt like a six-year-old, afraid of monsters under her bed. She hated that someone could do this to her.

This time, she definitely did not fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Instead, she stared at the pine ceiling until Callum returned and slid into bed next to her. Opening her mouth to ask one of the dozen questions hovering in her throat, Lou suddenly realized that she didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“Tell me something else you liked about being a marine,” she asked instead.

There was that pause again, the one that made Lou hold her breath in anticipation, not knowing if Callum would share something about himself or if he’d shut her down, as usual.

“I suddenly had brothers, guys who had my back, no matter what. I liked that.”

She tried to let her breath out silently, so Callum wouldn’t know she’d been holding it. “What didn’t you like?”

She heard the bedclothes rustle, as if he were shifting positions, but she was too afraid of breaking the spell to turn her head and look at him. “Leaving. It was hard, after I was out. I felt…I don’t know, pointless.” He made a small sound of frustration. “That’s not the right word. It’s hard to explain. I was lost for a while until I joined the dive team. Then I had another new family in search and rescue.”

It seemed so big, so important, what he’d shared with her that she didn’t want to diminish it with platitudes. So, keeping her mouth shut for once, she just reached out and found his hand. Lacing their fingers together, she squeezed hard, smiling when he squeezed back.

* * *

Dawn light was creeping around the shades when Lou awoke. Her first impression was of toasty contentment, and she smiled as she snuggled into that lovely warmth. When she realized the source of that heat was Callum pressed against her back, his arm wrapped around her middle, her eyes went wide.

With a sleepy grunt, he pulled her closer. Lou swallowed as her heart went crazy. This was
Callum
wrapped around her like a possessive grizzly bear. Should she get out of bed? Go back to sleep? Roll over and kiss him senseless like she’d been wanting to do for months?

The last option was the most tempting. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to build up the courage to do it. After all, he was the one treating her like a body pillow, so technically he’d made the first move. So what if he’d been unconscious at the time? Plus, there had been that kiss—the kiss that they were apparently going to pretend never happened.

Taking a deep breath, she started to turn when she felt him stiffen. Then he was gone, leaving her back and her heart cold. Before she could recover from his sudden abandonment, there was a rattle of shades, and light poured into the room. With a groan of disappointment, she shoved her head under her pillow, wanting to hide from his rejection as much as from the sun.

“Time to get up,” he announced.

“Five more minutes.”

When he didn’t respond, she figured he’d agreed to her request—at least until he jerked the covers off of her.

“Why do you hate me?” she wailed from beneath her pillow. Although she tucked her knees into her chest, the cold air wouldn’t allow her to fall back asleep.

“We need to leave now if we want to get to the clinic and back before your shift starts.” He did not sound at all contrite about torturing her. With a groan, she reluctantly sat up.

She yawned as he stared at her head with a bemused expression. “What?”

“Your hair. It’s…” As he trailed off, his hands made an exploding type of gesture.

“Whatever,” she grumbled, shoving a few strands out of her eyes. “At least I don’t have your morning face.”

“What?” It sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

“Never mind.” She slid off the bed and shuffled toward the bathroom. “Give me fifteen minutes, and then we can go.”

At his disbelieving snort, she stopped and scowled at him. “What?”

“You’re really going to be ready in fifteen minutes?”

“Fourteen and a half, now.” She slammed the bathroom door behind her before shouting, “And make yourself useful in the meantime and cook breakfast!”

* * *

She’d been kidding—well, kind of kidding—when she’d hollered at him to cook, but there was a definite smell of bacon in the cabin when she emerged from the bathroom twelve minutes later, smug about her speediness. After she threw on some warm and not-too-smelly clothes, she followed her nose to the kitchen, where Callum was indeed slaving over a hot stove. Leaning against the wall, she enjoyed the view of him standing at the stove, his sleeves pushed up to reveal his muscled forearms, lining up the strips of bacon into perfect formation.

“You know,” she teased, “you could have your own calendar. You’d only be wearing an apron in this shot. Although that’s kind of asking for spitting bacon-grease burns, isn’t it?”

He flushed, and she realized she was getting pretty proficient at making him turn red. “Did you want breakfast or not?” he grumbled, forking the bacon onto a paper-towel-lined plate.

“Yes.” She reached over to steal a piece, but he smacked her hand before she could reach her prize. “Ow. Did you happen to notice my twelve-minute prep time?”

“Wait for the eggs. And yes, very impressive.”

“You’re making eggs, too? I might just keep you.”

Although he was trying to hide it, a smile was fighting to break free. “You’re on toast duty.”

Lou glanced at the digital display showing the charge left in her batteries. “If you want me to use the toaster, I’m going to have to turn on the generator. The sun’s not high enough yet to produce much power. That’s what happens when you get up at the crack of dawn.”

He just gave her a look. “We don’t have to have toast.”

“No, it’s okay.” Heading for the front door, she said over her shoulder, “If you made bacon and eggs, the least I can do is make toast.”

Throwing on her boots but skipping the coat, she ran outside to the small shed that housed her generator. She opened the valve that allowed propane to the generator and reached for the start switch. A strange hissing sound and the strong smell of propane made her hesitate. Instead of turning on the generator, she pulled her hand back and closed the valve.

Trotting back to the cabin, she made a face. There always had to be something going wrong. Why couldn’t she just eat bacon with Callum in peace?

Inside, she nudged her temporary chef aside to grab a spray bottle from under the sink.

“What’s up?” he asked, turning off the burner, immediately slipping into calm and competent mode. It was like he could smell the start of a potential crisis.

“Propane leak,” she said, squirting some dish soap into the bottle and filling it the rest of the way with water. She grabbed her coat on the way out this time. Callum followed her silently. As they crossed the yard, the only sound was the crunch of snow beneath their boots. Although she had on her brave face, Lou couldn’t help glancing around at the surrounding trees. Everything was still and quiet, without even a breeze or the chatter of a squirrel. It felt like the forest was holding its breath, watching.

“Leave the door open, would you?” she asked as they both entered the shed. “There’s no other light in here.”

After she opened the valve again, she sprayed the soapy water in a stream where the propane line connected to the generator. When no bubbles formed, she frowned.

“Am I crazy, or do I hear and smell a leak?”

“You’re not crazy.” Taking the bottle from her, Callum began spraying the length of the propane line. At about the midpoint, large bubbles formed, and Lou closed the valve.

“This was cut.” Callum’s voice was grim as he examined the slice in the line.

Leaning her chin on his shoulder so she could see the hole as well, she growled, “That’s it. My tires and front door are one thing, but you don’t mess with someone’s toast!”

“This isn’t funny, Lou.”

“I know.” She sighed, standing. “It’s scary and dangerous and becoming really expensive. Joking in the face of adversity is just what I do.”

There was a loud bang, and everything went dark. With a yelp, Lou grabbed Callum’s arm, needing something to hang on to in the sudden blackness. There was no one in here with them—she
knew
that. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel a hot breath against the back of her neck…couldn’t help but imagine hands reaching for her in the dark.