Smolder: A Werebear + BBW Paranormal Romance (Bearpaw Ridge Firefighters Book 2)

by Sexton, Ophelia

  A moment later, he felt her fingers close tightly around his.

  An odd shock raced up his arm at the contact. He blinked and tried to focus on the task at hand.

  "Good. Can you wiggle the fingers of both hands?" he asked.

  She demonstrated that she could. So far so good.

  He tapped her palms lightly with his fingers. "Can you feel this?"

  "Yes," she answered.

  He slid his hand up to take a bilateral pulse from each wrist.

  Her skin felt warm through his thin gloves, and her pulse was elevated, but not dangerously so. Mark let out a silent breath of relief.

  "What's your name?" Mark asked, trying to assess whether she was suffering any neural impairment.

  "C-caitlyn. Caitlyn Morgan."

  "Hey, whaddya know," he said gently. "I have a cousin named Caitlyn. She lives in Canada. Do you spell your name with a 'C' or a 'K'?"

  "A 'C,'" she answered.

  "Okay, Caitlyn-with-a-C, I'm glad to see that you were wearing your seatbelt. Are you in any pain?"

  She hesitated. "Some. Mostly my foot—my left foot."

  In this position, he couldn't reach her feet to check the pedal pulse. "Can you move your feet?"

  "Yes," she said, after a moment.

  "Does your head hurt?" he asked, eyeing the sticky-looking dark red streaks staining her hair. "No, don't move it," he warned her hastily.

  "It stings a little."

  Scalp wounds tended to bleed profusely. Maybe her head injury wasn't too serious despite the blood, but he wasn't going to take any chances.

  "Okay," Mark told her. "Here's what's going to happen next. I’m going to put a C-collar—a cervical collar—on you to stabilize your neck." He looked back over his shoulder. "This is my partner, Fred, and he's going to help me apply the collar."

  "Hi Caitlyn," Fred said, his voice calm and reassuring. "Mark, I've got a C-collar, but I need to go back to the paramedic van to get the KED," he continued, referring to the brace used to secure the head, neck and torso of accident victims to allow them to be extracted from a confined space without aggravating a possible spine injury.

  Mark acknowledged Fred's words with a small wave of his free hand.

  The older man turned to run effortlessly up the steep embankment with the grace and strength of a mature wolf shifter.

  "Are you having any problems breathing?" Mark asked Caitlyn. "Are you in pain anywhere?"

  He saw her start to shake her head, then freeze as she remembered his warning. "No. Just a little scared, maybe. And the only thing that really hurts is my foot."

  "Gotcha," he assured her. "Caitlyn, my two brothers, Dane and Evan, are here too. As soon as Fred and I have your neck stabilized, we're going to get you out of there."

  "Sounds good to me," Caitlyn said, sounding less dazed now. "Dane, Evan, and Fred? Are they cute?"

  Mark felt a spurt of optimism at her question. Despite the bloody head wound, she seemed to be able to carry on a coherent conversation. It was a good sign.

  "Not as cute as me," he teased. "No, don't move your head," he reminded her hastily, when it looked like she wanted to turn and look at him.

  "So I'm just going to have to take your word for it?" she asked.

  "Until we get you out of there, yeah," he said, smiling. "But brace yourself for disappointment. My brother Dane is married. So is Fred."

  "Happily married, to a wife who bakes the best cinnamon rolls in the world," called Dane with a laugh. Shifter hearing was keen.

  "Hey, I'm always open to a better offer, especially from a sweet young thing like you," joked Fred as he returned to kneel next to the car.

  Caitlyn gave a short, breathy chuckle.

  "Don't let Fred fool you. He's happily married too. So you're down to Evan and me," Mark said, keeping his tone light.

  "And I'm definitely cuter than he is," Evan remarked cheerfully from over Mark's shoulder. "Hey, Mark, since you can't get that door open, Dane and I are going back up to the truck to get the hydraulic rescue tools. Uh, Caitlyn, you probably know them as the 'Jaws of Life,'" he said. "It looks like we're going to have to cut you out of there."

  "So basically, my car is totaled?" she asked, sounding wistful.

  "I'm afraid so," Mark answered. "Your crumple zones look pretty darn crumpled at this point. But your car did its job—it saved your life."

  Caitlyn sighed. "Damn it, and I'd just made my last payment on it too."

  Evan shook his head sympathetically. "Isn't that always the way it goes?"

  As the crunch of gravel under Dane and Evan's boots faded away, Caitlyn's hand squeezed Mark's with surprising strength.

  "Don't leave me alone in here…please?" She sounded suddenly scared.

  "Fred and I aren't going anywhere," Mark assured her, squeezing back.

  "The others will be back in a couple of minutes," added Fred. "We just need to stabilize you and set up some extra equipment before we get you out of there."

  "I'm going to touch your shoulder and chin now," Mark told Caitlyn. "I need to measure you to fit the C-collar."

  "Okay," breathed Caitlyn.

  Mark reached into the car and carefully used his fingers to measure the space between her trapezius and her chin, trying not to touch her throat or move her head.

  He reported his findings, and Fred made the necessary adjustments to the collar.

  "I was glad those boys saw me go off the road, or I don't know how long I would've been trapped in here," Caitlyn said. "They were so nice—they took turns talking to me until you got here."

  "They're the ones who called us," Mark said. "And they did the right thing by staying with you. There's hope for them, yet. And we're going to have you out of there in no time." He paused, thinking. "Do you remember why your car went off the road?"

  "I tried to avoid some dogs standing in the middle of the road—well, they might have been coyotes or wolves, I'm not sure," Caitlyn answered. "Whatever they were, I didn't want to hit them. But how did those boys find me? This place seems kind of…isolated."

  "They live on a ranch nearby," Mark told her. "They told us that they were out hunting when they saw your car go off the road."

  "Hunting? In the middle of the night? And their parents let them just roam around?" Caitlyn sounded mildly indignant now.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw the dance of flashlight beams, followed immediately by the sounds of his brothers returning.

  "It's a school night, so I’m pretty sure that their parents are going to be surprised when Sheriff Jacobsen drives them home in a bit," Mark said with a touch of grimness. "I predict that there may even be groundings."

  "Oh. When I was still in high school, I used to sneak out after curfew to go to parties," she confessed. "I was grounded for a month when my parents found out."

  Mark reluctantly released Caitlyn's hand when Dane and Evan approached, lugging the hydraulic cutters and spreaders.

  "All right, let's get that collar on you," said Fred.

  He showed her the foam-and-plastic C-collar. "This will stabilize your neck."

  "Okay," she said.

  Mark opened the rear door and crawled inside the car. It was then that he discovered that Caitlyn smelled deliciously feminine under the miasma of blood, smoke from the airbag deployment, and motor oil.

  His bear stirred restlessly inside him and urgently demanded that they save this woman at all costs.

  Mark blinked, taken aback for the second time since he had met Caitlyn. As a man, he wanted to save everyone on every call that came in. But his bear's strong reaction to smelling Caitlyn's blood was new—and rather disturbing—to him.

  Down, boy, he told his bear. Just let me handle this. She'll be fine.

  "Now I'm going to hold your head to steady you while Fred puts on the C-collar," he told Caitlyn.

  He reached around the driver's seat to cup Caitlyn's face between his hands to hold her in a neutral inline position.

  Moving very cauti
ously, Fred slid the C-collar smoothly around her neck and fastened it.

  "Everything okay?" he asked when he was done.

  "Yeah," Caitlyn said.

  "All right," said Fred. "Next, we're going to take the doors off this side of the car."

  Mark peered out after him and saw a bustle of activity around the accident scene.

  Evan was setting up the motor for the hydraulic rescue tools, and Dane skidded down the slope, carrying one of the hoses from the tanker, just in case it was needed. He had chocks tucked under his arm and coils of rope slung over his shoulders.

  The car rocked slightly as Evan and Dane jammed the chocks under the intact rear window.

  "What was that?" Caitlyn asked nervously. "We're not about to go over the edge of a cliff, are we?"

  "Nope. You're actually sitting in a pasture right now. No cliffs around for miles," Mark assured her. "What's happening right now is that Evan and Dane are stabilizing the back of your car. We want to make sure that it doesn't tip over while we're removing the doors."

  "You want to secure Caitlyn's seatbelt while you're in there?" Dane asked, coming around the car and bending to pass Mark a set of vice grips. "This part won't take long, Caitlyn, I promise."

  "Thanks," answered Caitlyn.

  Preparing for Dane and Evan's imminent removal of both driver's side car doors as well as the center post between the front and rear door, known as the "B" pillar, Mark used the vice grips to clamp Caitlyn's lap belt into place.

  This would prevent her from falling when they cut through the B pillar and, by necessity, her shoulder belt as well, to free the pillar.

  By this time, Evan and Dane had set up all of the necessary equipment. They had also placed battery-powered lights all around the upside-down vehicle to illuminate the scene.

  They all had practice freeing people from wrecked cars—most of the calls that came in to the BPRFD in winter and spring were for car accidents, especially when ice and snow made driving treacherous.

  Come summer, their calls would be divided between boating, swimming, and car accidents as warm weather and the area's beautiful scenery attracted tourists to Bearpaw Ridge and the nearby river and lakes.

  "What are you doing now?" asked Caitlyn as Mark, still inside the back of the car, began tearing away the interior trim from the B pillar, trying to locate the seatbelt retractor.

  "Just a bit of prep work to get you out of there," Mark answered. He saw two pairs of boots move into position just outside the window. "It's going to get really loud now, but I promise you that everything will be okay."

  Then someone fired up the hydraulic rescue tools' portable engine, and the deafening roar drowned out further conversation. Mark hastily pulled his thick insulated leather gloves back on and backed out of the car.

  Working as a team, Dane and Evan started at the open rear door and used the hydraulic cutters on the B pillar, severing it near the roof and just below the seat belt retractor.

  To the sound of metal groaning and plastic splintering, the last jewel-like fragments of tempered glass showered around Evan's boots as he held the severed B pillar while Dane cut the shoulder belt, leaving the clamped lap belt to hold Caitlyn in place.

  Once the B pillar had been cut free, Evan and Dane carefully pulled it and the attached rear door away from the car. The driver's door now swung out easily, leaving the entire side of the car open.

  All three brothers knew that they could have removed the car doors easily using just their bear shifter strength, but Caitlyn was an outsider, and Mark could smell that she was an Ordinary.

  So they used the equipment to preserve the secret that every shifter was sworn to keep.

  "Time for the next step," Mark told Caitlyn.

  "We're going to strap you into a brace now, kind of like a portable backboard," Fred told her, his voice gruff but kind. "It'll help protect your spine when we pull you out of this car."

  Fred turned to fetch the KED from the small pile of first aid gear he'd brought down from the paramedic van.

  The KED looked like an extra-long, open-fronted nylon life jacket, with long stiff bars inserted down its length every inch or so.

  Working together, Mark and Fred carefully moved Caitlyn's upper body forward to create a space between her back and the seat.

  "Does your back hurt at all?" Fred asked, as he carefully steadied her head and neck.

  "No," she said.

  "Are your legs or feet numb?"

  "No," she said again, to Mark's relief.

  He slid the KED between the back of Caitlyn's seat and her torso, then used the long straps to securely fasten it to her torso and head. Doing so with only minimal movement proved to be a challenge, since their patient was upside-down and still strapped into her seat.

  "Ooh, bondage? Kinky," Caitlyn joked weakly as they buckled and tightened the KED's straps around her torso, legs, and head, trying not to jar her.

  Mark admired her courage.

  "Just making sure you don't get away before the sheriff arrives," he joked.

  Her expression froze. "Am I in trouble?"

  "I don't think so," he reassured her. Then he added in a lighter tone, "And if you are, don't worry…I'm a lawyer."

  "A lawyer? You? Seriously?" Her tone was uncertain.

  "Seriously," Fred chimed in. "I told him that he'd get more dates if he told women he was a firefighter, though."

  "Yeah, I can see that," she said, solemnly, but in the light of the lanterns, he saw the corners of her bruised mouth move in a smile.

  "All right, now I'm going to bring the backboard over. We'll have you outta there in a jiffy," Fred announced when Mark had finished tightening the last of the KED's straps.

  He moved away from the vehicle, leaving Mark temporarily alone with Caitlyn.

  He still hadn't managed to get a good look at her face. But her scent surrounded him like a caress, making it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand.

  When Fred returned a few moments later, Mark helped Fred carefully extract her onto a backboard, releasing the clamps that held her lap belt in place.

  Their shifter strength made it easy to lower her from the upside-down seat and place her on the backboard, sliding her out of the car while maintaining control of her neck position.

  Mark breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped away from the mutilated vehicle, the backboard held between them.

  "You guys have no idea how good it feels not be hanging upside-down," Caitlyn said, a smile stretching her lips. Even bruised and split, her lips looked appealingly kissable. "I thought my head was going to explode."

  In the light of the battery-powered lanterns, Mark got his first good look at her. He already knew she was blonde, with shoulder-length hair now tangled and matted with dark blood.

  Despite the battering by the airbag, her face was pretty, and she looked remarkably composed considering the ordeal she'd just been through.

  Best of all, her figure was curvy and generous, just the kind of sexy softness that felt wonderful in his arms…and his bed.

  Stop that, Mark told himself, appalled by the direction his thoughts were taking.

  She was his patient. No matter how attractive he found her, this was neither the time nor the place.

  "Look, except for my foot, I feel fine," Caitlyn protested, as Mark and Fred lifted her backboard onto a stretcher. "Just a bit shaken up. You don't have to—"

  "Yes we do, young lady," Fred said sternly, using what Mark thought of as his Dad voice. "That was one hell of an accident, and you're very lucky to be alive. I need to make sure that you're stable."

  Mark tried not bristle at Fred's tone as Caitlyn stopped protesting with a mumbled, "Sorry."

  Now that their patient was free of the wreckage, the older man took the opportunity to perform a more thorough assessment. He examined the wound on her scalp, which had stopped bleeding. Then he took her pulse in both wrists, asking her to move her fingers, and shone a penlight in her eyes to check for concussio
n.

  "I'm going to check your pulse in your ankles now," Fred told her, moving down to her feet.

  "Ow!" Caitlyn exclaimed when Fred cradled her left ankle and pressed down.

  His bear's sudden surge of rage towards the wolf shifter took Mark by surprise. He clenched his hands into fists and fought for control.

  What the hell is wrong with you tonight? Mark demanded. He hadn't come this close to losing control and shifting involuntarily since he was a teenager.

  Fred, likely alerted by the sudden change in Mark's scent, cast him a sharp glance.

  "It's nothing," Mark said between gritted teeth. "Just ignore me."

  Fred shook his head slightly, then turned his attention back to Caitlyn. He finished taking her pulse in both ankles, then asked, "Caitlyn, can you move your feet for me?"

  She obliged, much to Mark's relief, though her grimace of pain as she moved her left foot struck him to the core.

  If she had indeed incurred a spinal injury during the accident, at least it hadn't left her crippled. He just couldn't bear to see her in pain, a feeling that overrode his usual professional detachment while on a call.

  Fred finished his assessment. "Not sure whether your ankle is broken or just badly sprained," he reported, "but I'm sure the hospital will want to X-ray it. They'll likely want to do a cervical X-ray, as well, just to make sure everything's okay." He glanced up the slope of the embankment, where the hard-packed dirt and gravel was deeply gouged and scraped. "Looks like your car rolled over a couple of times on the way down here. Best to be safe rather than sorry."

  Mark waved over to Evan and Dane, who were clearing away the equipment they had used and had their arms full of hoses, ropes, chocks, and other items.

  "We're taking her up to the van now," he called.

  Fred was already fastening the backboard's straps around Caitlyn.

  "Again with the bondage," she grumbled.

  Fred grinned at her. "Can't take the chance that you'll decide to go gallivanting up that hill on your own."

  She sighed. "Believe me, I've never felt less like gallivanting in my life."

  Lifting the stretcher between them, Mark and Fred carried her up the steep slope to wait for the ambulance to arrive.

  * * *