Stay: Changing Tides, Book 1 (10 page)

She looked up with a soft smile. “So every Elliot is a hero of some sort, huh?”

“Hero?” He scoffed. “Hardly. Is that how you see yourself?”

She laughed. “Nope. But there’s something about men doing what you all do that makes a girl a little warmer when she thinks of it.”

Yep. Definitely leaving that one alone. She was going to burn him from the inside out.

She drifted through the various pieces, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Stopping by a huge, unfinished piece of wood, she tipped her head. “What will this one be?”

“A coffee-table.”

She eyed the piece for a moment. “How?”

Damn, he didn’t want to get any closer. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands to himself. He grabbed a wood file from the workbench as he approached and handed it to her. “Use your hand first.”

He took her other hand and smoothed it over the wood. “Find the flattest points, those are what I’m working on now. I have to file them down just enough to make the piece of glass sit flat.”

She ran her hand over the wood. “Here’s one.”

The light vanilla scent of her hair and her soft smile wreaked havoc on his already rapid pulse, but when she turned into him, her gaze hooded, he lost it.

Sliding his hand across her cheek, he drew his thumb over her bottom lip. “Abby.”

She kissed the pad of his thumb in response, and he leaned in. “It’s about time.”

The whispered statement brought him up short. “What?”

“It’s about time,” she repeated. “I didn’t think you were ever going to kiss me.”

“I wish you would have said something.” He chuckled and drew her into his arms. “Or at least given me a sign that you wanted me to.”

“I’m not much for hinting.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “And I never knew if I wanted to kiss you or kick you.”

“But you know what you want this time?” he joked. She laughed, her hands smoothing along his neck as she pressed closer. He’d planned to go slow, just a taste, enough to get him through and hopefully stem the constant bleed of desire when she was around. But the moment their lips touched, he expected the fire alarms to go off. When she gasped, allowing him deeper access into her sultry heat, he crushed her closer, blinded by the inferno.

Her fingers laced through his hair, and she curved into him until they touched, chest, hips, knees. His hands moved on their own, sculpting to the smooth lines of her hips and to the skin beneath her sweatshirt.

“Abby.”

He needed to be closer and backed her against the workbench, trailing kisses along her neck. She tipped her head back, allowing him access to the frantic pulse at her throat. Her leg hooked around his, and she moved against him, each shift and sigh turning his body rock hard. Then her hands were under his shirt, her nails dragging over his skin with a gentle bite that fanned the raging need already coursing through him. “I want you,” he whispered.

“Here,” she rasped. “Now.”

This wasn’t how it should happen. It was hot as hell, straight out of a dream, but it wasn’t right. She deserved more than a quick screw. “Abby, let’s—”
What?

“Go? Where? The cabin?” Then her brows furrowed and she stood on tiptoe to look over his shoulder. “Did Jonathon leave a flashlight on the dock?”

He wasn’t sure if he’d groaned out loud or not, but when he turned to follow her gaze, his heart lurched as a dim light angled at the dock shifted. He took off toward the shed, yelling back over his shoulder. “Call 911. Tell them we’ve got a snowmobile in Parson’s Lake on the other side of the Elliot camp. Tell them we’re responding.”

Chapter Eight

Abby ripped her cell out as she followed Brack. It was difficult to dial the numbers running so she slowed a fraction. When the dispatcher answered, she picked up her pace again, her heart racing. “This is Abby Burke with Brighton Fire and Rescue. There’s a snowmobile in Parson’s Lake, opposite the Elliot camp, unknown number of victims, two rescue personal en route to scene, ETA unknown.”

The dispatcher affirmed she’d page out Brighton, and Abby reached the shed as the loud motor of a vehicle roared to life. Brack lurched out of the shed on a snowmobile. Draped across the steering column were ropes and lifejackets. He tossed a rolled-up package at her. “Survival suit. Put it on quick.”

The weight of the survival gear pulled at her arms. The last time she’d donned this type of suit in an emergency situation, she’d nearly died. The gear and the danger it represented may have scared others. For her, it was affirmation that she was alive and able to put it all on again. Her fingers tore open the heavy suit, and she was just pulling up the hood as Brack climbed back onto the snowmobile after donning his own. “Ready?”

Several thick blankets were wedged between his legs, and she grabbed them before jumping on behind him. “Rescue’s being paged. Let’s go.”

He nodded, pulling her hands around his waist. “Hang on tight.”

She didn’t have more than a second to react before they sped away from the cabin. The road was blocked several yards down, but Brack took a sharp turn, nearly unseating her before the machine grabbed hold of the thick blanket of snow and propelled them forward.

A mottled array of scenery whipped by in a dark blur, the thick trunks of the trees almost paper thin in the optical illusion of motion. She caught a faint glimpse of the light she’d noticed, its dim reflection barely discernible in the distance. Several times Brack neared the water’s edge. Her heart raced with adrenaline. If they hit the ice, they’d go through. Most of the lakes were opening up already.

What the hell had the rider been thinking?

“Abby, hang on. There’s a ditch ahead.”

She clenched her fingers tighter into the folds of his coat, bringing her knees in beside his hips for extra leverage as they plunged downward in a sharp pitch. The loss of her stomach returned in the next second as the machine’s nose rammed through the snow at the low spot, sending a cloud of white powder up around them in an eerie cloak. Then they lifted, almost horizontal, into the air. The snowmobile’s track slipped on the steep incline and she leaned forward, praying they wouldn’t flip.

The machine righted itself with a heavy lunge and they were propelled forward as it caught the snow again. The world around them came into focus and she could finally make out the headlights of several other snowmobiles ahead where she’d spotted the original light.

Brack barely brought the vehicle to a stop before jumping off. He yelled to the others gathered around the water’s edge. “How many in?”

A woman, her face frozen in terror, grabbed his arm as he pulled the ropes free and tossed them over his shoulder. “Two. Brack, it’s Dana.” Tears streaked her cheeks, reflecting in the light from the snowmobiles. “He had Hunter with him.”

Brack’s expression hardened. “Abby, bring the lifejackets.”

She grabbed them and followed as he crashed through the snow and shallow ice. Setting a package on the ice, he tossed her one of the ropes. “Tie it to that tree.”

She did so, startled when a loud pop and the sound of rushing air ripped through the area. She turned as a floatation device exploded on the ice in a blur of rapidly filling orange plastic. Perfect. A safety raft. “Good to go, Captain.”

He nodded, rolling himself into the raft. “I’ll signal when to pull us back. At this distance, I’ll have a better chance of getting a hold of them and dragging them to shore.”

If there were two victims, he’d need her. She rushed forward, his bark of protest drowned by the frigid temperature of the water closing in around her. Mimicking his careful motions, she was in the raft next to him in no time. “What are you waiting for?”

She knew he was furious. She also knew he didn’t have time to argue with her. Slipping the other end of the rope through one of the loops on the raft, she turned back to shore. “Someone go up and flag the responders with a flashlight. The rest of you need to angle your machine’s headlamps on either side of us. Focus on the area where they went in the water.”

Brack’s scowl hadn’t disappeared when she turned back, but he handed her an ice pick. “Stay in the raft, Abby. No matter what.”

She mimicked his movements, digging into the ice with the pick and jerking the raft across the surface with steady pulls.

“There are currents in several places along this narrow,” he rasped. “If you end up in the water, it can suck you along. Tie yourself in.”

She did as he asked, and tied him off as well. Giving each other a quick nod, they kept moving toward the middle of the lake. The weight of the raft moved slowly. By the time they were halfway to the hole, her arms ached with exertion. The lights from the snowmobiles didn’t reach far enough to see clearly, and a deep sense of dread seeped into her chest. “Do you see them?”

“Not yet.”

Time lost all rhythm as they continued the slow progress over the ice. Each breath brought them closer as it puffed from her frozen lips in short gray clouds. Silence stretched, interrupted only by the sinister creaks of ice beneath them and the raft’s scratchy slides. And then she heard something. A faint yell, just ahead. “There. I heard them.”

His own breaths short, Brack pointed. “I see them. We have to shift to the right more.”

It seemed to take an eternity to cross the remaining expanse of ice between them, but the fact that both of the victims were still above water gave her hope. “We’re coming. Almost there, just hold on.”

The stricken face of the man came into view, his arm wrapped around his child. Their lips were blue, and dark shadows had formed beneath their eyes. The boy’s were closed. They needed to get them out of the water quickly. The moment Brack stopped pulling, she turned to tie one of the ropes to a rescue ring.

The man in the water yelled out. “Hurry, B-Brack. Hunter’s unconscious. H-h-hit his head—on ice.”

“Damn. Hang on, Dana. I’m going to throw you a ring.”

Abby handed it over and it sailed through the air. “Grab on, Dana. Slip it over your arm and hang onto Hunter. We’re going to come get you.”

The man’s face disappeared beneath the water briefly before he kicked himself back to the surface. His hands pounded against the ice with such force that the shelf let go, plunging him downward again, his son’s lifeless body pulled along with him.

“Shit!”

Brack’s roared curse mirrored her own thoughts, and she lurched to her feet. The ice had opened up less than three feet away. All she had to do was roll out and she’d reach them in time. The man bobbed back to the surface, grasping wildly for the life ring. His guttural yells pushed her over the edge, and she rolled out of the raft. Brack yelled for her to stop, but she used her pick to jerk herself forward and slipped easily into the water. The pressure of the frigid lake water forced the neoprene suit close to her body, the shock of temperature change gripping her lungs in a vise.

“Dana! Dana, calm down. Here grab my hand.”

Brack pulled the life raft closer, watching Abby’s progress. Damn her.

Dana’s movements had slowed to lethargic attempts. His face was barely above water as he reached out to Abby’s outstretched hand. Their fingers brushed but Dana’s grasp was too weak and he went under again. Abby followed.

Seconds ticked by, her rope slithering out of the raft. When the bright orange strip on the top of her hood broke the surface again, she was just out of Brack’s reach. She dragged the lifeless body of the child behind her and the second she was close enough, Brack hauled the boy in. Before Abby could dive again, he grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. “Get in the boat.”

She struggled back onto the ice, and as soon as he hauled her into the raft, he rolled out and lowered himself into the water. Dana hadn’t come up, and Brack took a deep breath, flicking on his underwater flashlight as he submerged. Thankfully, the current didn’t run through this particular portion of the lake, and he stretched his arms out, sweeping the area in a broad turn. His hand brushed against a solid form and he closed his fist.

Relief coursed rich in his veins as Dana’s limp form came into focus before his aching eyes. Pulling Dana close, he struggled toward the surface, his lungs screaming in protest. The water brushed over his face with icy fingers.

Abby’s concerned face met his the moment he emerged. “Brack, here!”

“Pull him in.”

They struggled with Dana’s weight. He was so much heavier than his son that it took several minutes to get him partway into the raft. Abby grabbed his legs and pulled, toppling backwards as Dana’s body rolled into her. She hurried back to the side, and the strength of her grip as it closed over his arm surprised Brack.

With her help, he struggled into the raft and waved his flashlight toward shore. Immediately, the raft shifted beneath them. Dana sputtered, convulsed with brutal shivers. His eyes were mere slits as he turned his head to look at his son. “I-I-is h-he ok-kay?”

The moment Brack was in the raft, Abby leaned over the boy. Her slender arms pumped against his chest with sure, even strokes. She knelt beside him, taking turns breathing and working on his heart as they scooted over the ice toward shore.

Brack could see the flashing lights from the rescue vehicles in his peripheral vision, but he couldn’t look away from the boy’s ashen face. Water dribbled from his lips with each of Abby’s pumps, but his eyes didn’t flutter, he didn’t breathe, just lay there, deathly still.