by Leah Braemel
With a nod, Sophie dashed away.
“We found him!” One of the men she’d sent outside raced into the room. “He’s out on the pond.”
Shit. Though it was cold enough to freeze the top layer of water today, there’d been open spots on the pond just days ago. Just because he got out there safely didn’t mean he could get back as easily. Damn it. “Ryan, call the police—have them activate their emergency response unit. Then call the fire department and ambulance.”
“Why do you need to call an ambulance?” June asked, her voice rising.
“It’s just a precaution.” It would do no good explaining to June that an adult would lose consciousness in such cold water under fifteen minutes. A little boy like Kevin wouldn’t last that long. And that was if he could swim.
As Ryan pulled out his phone, Meg raced outside and around the mill.
Kevin’s father stood on the berm ringing the pond, his hands cupped to his mouth, shouting, “Get your ass back here right the hell now.”
“You said a bad word. Mommy said anyone who used that word gets their mouth washed out with soap.”
Ryan ran up behind her. “Cops are on their way. They’re summoning a search helicopter from Orillia. If it’s not already out on a call, it’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“Excellent. Let’s pray we don’t need it.” Twenty minutes? That was damned good response time considering it had taken her two hours to get to Orillia in the truck the day before. Of course, some of that time had been because of the tour she’d taken thanks to the stupid GPS.
Ryan and June at her heels, Meg scrambled up the side of the landscaped hill, occasionally having to put her hand to the snowy surface to keep her footing. Once she was at the top, she could see Kevin was standing in the middle of the pond without a coat, hat or mitts.
“Damned kid,” his father said. “Thinks one of Santa’s reindeer is on the other side. Refuses to come back.”
“There was a stag out here this morning. That’s probably what he saw.”
Before she could stop him, Mr. Jennings stepped onto the ice and took two steps before the ice shattered beneath him. Meg grabbed his sleeve but found herself pulled off her feet as he fell into the waist-deep water.
She and Ryan and June hauled him back onto land. “The ice is too thin for our weight. Kevin needs to get down on his belly and crawl back.” And pray the ice holds his weight on the return trip.
Kevin’s father shot her a look of pure frustration. “Crawl back? Why?”
“It distributes his weight over a larger area—there’s a better chance that the ice won’t crack that way.” Considering his father’s earlier threats, Kevin might be reluctant to return. “He needs to get down as flat as he can and pull himself along on his elbows. Have him lie on his back and do a backstroke if he needs to. He’s more likely to listen to you than he will me.”
“I wouldn’t c-count on that,” his father muttered as his wife called to their son. “Kid’s got a stubborn streak a mile wide.”
Gee, wonder where he got that from. She glanced over her shoulder to find Noah in the crowd. “We need to keep Mr. Jennings warm until the ambulance arrives. Can you get us some blankets?”
Hopefully they wouldn’t be needed for Kevin.
“I’m on it.” Noah pushed through the gathering crowd and raced back toward the store.
“Ryan? Do you have a boat anywhere around? A canoe or something we can push out on the ice? Or an extension ladder?”
“An extension ladder. It’s only a twenty-footer though.” And Kevin was at least thirty feet from shore.
“It’ll have to do.”
Ryan dashed off.
“And Ryan,” she called after him. “We’ll need some rope too. Enough to reach out that far. At least fifty feet if you’ve got it.”
She turned back to Kevin, who had partially listened to his mother and lowered himself to his knees.
The moment he saw her beside his mother, Kevin scrambled to his feet and started waving. “Hey, Miss Police Occifer.”
She held up her hand. “Kevin, stop! You need to lie down on the ice as flat as you can. Can you do that for us?”
“But I’ll get wet and Mommy and Daddy will get mad.”
“I won’t get angry, doodlebug,” June called, her hand clutched to her chest. “You just do what the nice police officer tells you, all right, honey?”
* * *
Ryan hauled ass back to the pond, a trek made more difficult by the fifty-foot rope coiled over the one shoulder, the end of an unwieldy extension ladder hooked under other arm. It didn’t help that the other end was being carried by an extremely overweight seventy-three-year-old volunteer huffing along behind him. At the edge of the parking lot, he skidded to stop—it was either that or run down several dozen spectators blocking his path to Meg.
“Out of the way.” A couple people toward the back shifted, but not enough to let him through.
Derek, still dressed in his Santa suit, shoved several people aside and took the other end of the ladder. “I got it.” He raised his voice to the people blocking their way. “Make a hole, people! Let us through.”
“For an accountant, you can get pretty damned bossy,” Ryan observed as the people quickly moved aside.
“Try being married to Amy,” Derek shot back.
Once they reached the top of the berm, they headed straight to Meg. “Where do you want this?”
Meg pointed to a spot farther up from where Jennings had broken through. “Lay it flat on the ice and extend it as far as it’ll go.”
Once they’d finished she realized she’d underestimated her distance. Kevin was at least another ladder-length from its end.
“It’ll have to do,” Meg decided. She grabbed the rope from Ryan’s shoulder. She handed one end to Ryan. “Here, you and as many as you can get should hang on to it, like a rope-pulling contest.” Her gaze focused past him. “Better yet, tie it around that tree trunk, will you?”
He wrapped it around the maple she’d indicated three times before he noticed she’d wrapped the other end around her waist. “What the fuck are you doing? You’re not thinking of going out on the ice yourself, are you?”
“That’s exactly what I plan.”
“You can’t. You saw what happened to Jennings. He fell through.”
“Neither the local emergency rescue team or the fire department are here yet. We can’t take a chance that the ice won’t crack under Kevin before they arrive.” Her tone left no room for doubt that she fully intended to put her life in danger. “I’m going to crawl along the ladder as far as I can, and try to get Kevin to crawl to me. The ladder should displace both our weights and we’ll get back on land safe and sound.”
He caught her arm. “And what if you don’t? What do we do if the ice cracks and you both end up in the water? There’s a current in that pond, Meg. It’ll suck you down to the bottom. It’ll draw you straight toward the dam. You’ll get caught in the trash rack or the spillway, for fuck’s sake. Or you’ll get caught under the ice. You can’t do this.”
“That’s what the rope is for. If we fall in, you hold tight and keep us up.” She touched his arm, but there was no hint of softness about it. “This is my job, Ryan. If I don’t do it, someone else has to. Someone with a family. With kids who need their father or mother.”
“I need you, Meg. Don’t do this.”
“So I’m to say ‘hey, you go out there and risk your life because my boyfriend says your life doesn’t matter as much mine’? Or ‘sorry Kevin died because my boyfriend didn’t want me to do my job’? Uh-uh, it’s not happening, Ryan.”
Accepting his defeat, Ryan triple-checked the knots, then made another one to make sure there was no way in hell it would come loose. “Derek, Noah, everyone, help me hold this rope.”
Meg stood at the base of the ladder and took a deep breath. “Kevin? Can you inch this way? You have to stay on your belly, Kevin. Can you do it? Can you crawl toward me?”
&
nbsp; Come on, kid, do it.
Someone behind him—it sounded like Derek—muttered a similar comment.
Kevin flailed a couple inches but then stopped and sat up. “It’s cold.”
Shit.
“All right, Kevin. Lie down and stay still, all right? I’m coming to get you.”
His hands clenched the rope when Meg lowered herself to her belly at the shore and stretched out along the first rungs. His breath caught when the ice creaked and cracked as she transferred her full weight to her ladder. Once the cracking lessened, she crabbed to the next rung, and the next. It must have been hell on her knees as she inched her way to the end.
Ryan blew a sigh of relief when a black-and-white police car and the emergency rescue truck pulled into the parking lot. Two officers, one male, one female, jumped out of the truck, while another officer rounded the rescue truck as two men jumped out and started unloading equipment.
The man from the car climbed to stand beside Ryan. “Whose idea was the ladder?”
“Meg’s. That’s the woman on the ladder—Meg Sullivan. She’s a corporal with the RCMP up in Iqaluit so I guess she’s done this before.”
The officer’s brow arched. “So that’s Sullivan, huh? Heard she was competent but good to see for myself she’s got a level head.”
Ryan wondered how he’d heard about Meg, but shook it off in exasperation. “Yeah, well, she’s putting her ass on the line out there by herself. Can’t you do something?”
Before he could respond, the ice beneath Kevin cracked and splintered. The little boy disappeared into the icy water with a splash.
“Fuck,” the officer and Ryan said in unison.
Ryan watched in horror as the crack lengthened, the ice widening and splintering as it raced toward shore. Within seconds the end of the ladder tilted, dumping a scrambling Meg into the icy water.
Hang on, Meg.
The rope tightened, burning Ryan’s palms. He wrapped it around his waist and hung on for dear life, Derek in his Santa suit, Noah and the others grabbing the remaining length. Together they heaved. Meg popped to the surface, but to Ryan’s surprise, and fear, she waved him off.
“Not yet, I have to get Kevin.”
What the fuck? She expected him to stand by and wait for her to freeze into an ice cube and sink to the bottom? No fucking way.
“Ryan, stop. They’ve got the dinghy in the water and are almost to her. They’ll get them.” It was only when Derek grabbed his arm that Ryan realized he was already ankle deep in the water, prepared to go after her and bring her back himself.
He stumbled back two steps, still clinging to the rope as the two rescue officers worked their boat to where Meg had resurfaced with a spluttering Kevin clamped in her arms.
* * *
Meg stumbled from the dinghy and into the welcoming warmth of the blanket the EMT wrapped around her. She tried to take another step, away from the water, but couldn’t feel her feet and just about pitched on her face.
“I got her.” Ryan lifted her in his arms. “I’ve got you.”
Her teeth chattering, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Hey, you.”
“Don’t you ever scare the shit out of me like that again.” If he held her a little too tight, she couldn’t blame him. Feeling the ice fracture beneath her had frightened the crap out of her. The icy temperature driving her breath from her, and the burn of her lungs as she fought her way to the surface had made her question whether she’d live to touch him again.
Though he’d been forced to set her down on the tailgate of the ambulance, Ryan hovered, only letting go of her hand when the EMTs checked her fine motor skills by asking her to touch her thumb to her middle finger. When they told her they were about to take Kevin to the hospital and suggested she go too, Meg shook her head. “I’m fine. Cold, but it’s nothing that won’t warm up once I get out of these wet things and curl up beneath a nice warm blanket.”
Hopefully a nice warm Ryan blanket.
“Meg, this isn’t the time to be a hero.” He turned to the EMT for support. “Is it dangerous for her not to go?”
The technician frowned as he considered Meg. “She’s got stage-one hypothermia but I guess if you get her out of her wet clothes and keep her warm she’ll probably be good to go in a couple of hours.”
“See? You just have to keep me warm.” She widened her eyes, hoping he’d figure out exactly how she wanted him to do that.
“Stubborn woman.” Despite her protest that she could walk on her own, Ryan lifted her in his arms, preparing to take her back to his place.
He’d gone exactly four paces before Betty Ann stopped him, insisting she needed to hug Meg and thank her for saving her grandson’s life. They’d managed another two steps before the local news van pulled up and a far too perky reporter stuck a microphone in her face.
Ryan’s arms tightened around her. “She saved a kid’s life today by putting her own at risk. Just ask anyone here. Now I need to get her inside and dried off before she catches pneumonia.”
Tension vibrated through him as he stomped through the parking lot to the stairs, refusing to stop to talk to anyone else. He put her down long enough to retrieve his keys and unlock the door. She squeaked when he lifted her again and marched into the bedroom before he let her down and began to frantically unbutton buttons and unzip zippers. He stripped her of her clothes and tossed them toward the bathroom, not caring whether they landed on tile or carpet.
“Has this ever happened to you before?” His voice shook almost as much as her fingers.
“No.” She’d had her share of fists thrown at her, a couple knives pulled and yeah, had even been shot at, but crawling across an iced-over pond to rescue a kid and falling in? That was a first.
He’d grabbed a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her. “Are you up to a shower? I can’t remember what they say about hypothermia.”
Hmm, she flexed her fingers and toes. “A shower over a bath, I think.” Even standing in a room with the steam might be enough, but at the moment, she was still so freaking cold she didn’t think she’d ever be warm again.
She followed him into the bathroom, leaning against the counter as he turned the faucet and let the water run over his hand until he was satisfied it was the right temperature. He ditched his clothes in record time, snatched the blanket from her and hauled her into the shower, aiming the stream over her shoulders.
Blessed warmth sluiced over her breasts, down her back. What was wonderfully warm on those parts almost burned her toes. Maybe she should have waited but after losing the feeling in her feet—and hell, most of the rest of her body too—she was happy to feel anything at all.
Ryan tightened his grip around her waist and buried his face in her hair. “Christ, Meg. I don’t ever want to go through that again. I thought I’d fucking lost you.”
“Hey, stop thinking about what could have happened. Kevin’s safe, and so am I. You kept calm and did exactly what I asked. I can’t tell you how much that helped.”
“Calm? I was pants-pissing terrified.” He rested his forehead on hers. “All I did was make a phone call and find a ladder. You saved a little boy’s life by putting your own life at risk. You are amazing.”
“Jeezus, Porter, are you always this sappy or did someone feed you too many sugar pills today?” She blinked, hoping he’d think the tears in her eyes were from the shower. “I wasn’t the only one who pulled Kevin out of the water. It was a team effort.”
“I know. But I’m not in love with any of them.”
Oh man, if she’d had any doubts whether she’d made the right decision, this sealed the deal.
Chapter Seven
Laughter and shushing accompanied the thumping on the front door. Only half-annoyed at the interruption of his watching Meg sleep, Ryan brushed Meg’s hair off her face and whispered, “Merry Christmas, sleepyhead.”
“Merry Christmas.” With a groan, Meg rolled onto her stomach and buried her head under the pillow. “Wanna slee
p. Not ready to get up.”
“Can’t.” He slapped her behind before walking naked to the dresser to grab a pair of SpongeBob SquarePants boxers Amy had given him as a gag gift for Christmas last year. “It’s reveille, Corporal. Time to get dressed. Unless you want to open your presents naked in front of everyone.”
The pillow shifted and half of Meg’s face reappeared, her one eye narrowed. “What do you mean everyone?”
“Everyone. You know, Derek, Amy, Noah, Sophie.” One leg successfully in the leg hole, the other side refused to cooperate, the fabric forcing him to make an ungainly hop. “Everyone.”
“I thought we were going open our presents to each other here first, and then over there.”
“We were supposed to, but I’m guessing there’s been a change of plans. They’re at the front door.” He snatched the pillow and ripped off the blankets. Aw hell, they’d waited this long, they could wait a couple minutes longer. He cupped one of Meg’s breasts and leaned down to capture the soft peak in his mouth.
The pounding resumed, distracting him from his exploration of the lean and very tasty female body gracing his bed. Damn, she was beautiful.
“Ryan, Meg?” Derek called from the hallway. “Are you decent in there?”
With a gasp, Meg scrambled at the end of the bed for the sheet and wrapped it around her before disappearing into the bathroom just as the door opened.
Derek grinned. “Damn, I should have let Amy talk me into using the spare key a couple minutes sooner.”
“Hey, you big fat liar! I told you we should wait for him to open the door.” At least Amy had had the decency to stay in the living room.
“Ryan?” Meg called through the bathroom door. “Can you hand me some clothes?”