by Shandi Boyes
“Feet up, Jamie. Lawn-chair position, remember?” The rapids have moved us too far from the flotilla to return. We’ll have to follow the rapids until we reach the safety boats. “Jamie?”
When she fails to respond for the second time, I stop using one of my arms as an oar so I can raise her head to mine. She’s out cold, and blood is gushing down her cheek. She either discovered a sleeper beneath the surface, or one of her fellow rafter’s excitement saw her being struck with an oar. That’s usually the cause for swimmers not immediately resurfacing following a dismount from the boat.
I blame the icy conditions we’re emerged in or the shake of my hands when I check her for a pulse. It’s there, although declining with each second we spend in the water. “You’ll be all right, Jamie. I won’t let anything happen to you. Just hold on, okay?”
With my butt high, my toes above water, and my feet pointing downstream, I successfully guide us down the rapids in a safe, yet fast manner. By adopting a lawn-chair position, I am able to use my feet to bounce us away from any rocks that come into our path.
After grabbing the safety rope Dallas throws out, I curl it around my wrist three times before signaling for him to pull us in. As they drag us across less violent waters, Tyrone and the rest of the flotilla arrive at our meeting point.
“Careful, don’t move her too much. If she’s going into hypothermic shock, we need to keep her as still as possible,” I demand when they pull Jamie into the safety boat. Once I’m on board, they race to the shore where Claudia is waiting with a van full of medical supplies. “I need blankets, warm water, and scissors. Have the EMTs been called?”
Nodding, Claudia rushes off to gather the supplies I requested.
“Condition?” Tyrone drops to Jamie’s side before checking the response of her pupils with a small torch.
“She has a pulse and is breathing unaided, but has been unresponsive since surfacing.” I take a quick look at the cut on her head, grimacing when my inspection causes it to bleed more. “Her wound is straight, indicating it was most likely caused by the blade of an oar.”
“I agree. It was quick, but I saw contact just before she went over.”
When Claudia returns with the supplies I requested, I nudge my head to the rafters mingling around us, watching the show. “Move them back.” I’m about to cut Jamie’s clothing off, so I doubt she’d want witnesses. “I don’t believe her knock to the head is the cause of her drowsiness. I think she’s going into hypothermic shock.” I don’t know why I’m explaining myself to Tyrone. We’re both extensively trained in this type of first aid. It just feels different since it’s Jamie.
“Once again, I agree. She’s showing reduced circulation, and her lack of response could be more from confusion as her body fights not to shut down.” He lifts his eyes to Dallas. “Fold down the seats in the van. We need to get her back to the cabin.”
My eyes rocket to Tyrone’s. “EMTs are on their way.”
“If we don’t get her warm now, they may arrive too late.”
The honesty in his tone kickstarts both my heart and my feet. “Bring me the back brace.”
I snatch it out of Dallas’ hand before laying it beside Jamie, then carefully guiding her onto it. Once we have her strapped to the brace, Tyrone and I slide her into the back of the van being extra cautious not to move her more than necessary.
When I swing my eyes to Claudia, she slices her hand through the air. “We’ve got this. Go.”
She barges me into the van before slamming the doors shut and tapping on the window, giving Tyrone the signal to leave. While I work on cutting off Jamie’s soaked clothes, Tyrone races us back to the cabin. Mercifully, we purchased this cabin because of its close proximity to the locations our activities are undertaken, meaning we’re only a few miles from the equipment needed to ensure Jamie’s hypothermic shock remains mild.
Halfway there, Jamie’s eyes begin to flutter. “Colby…?” Her body brutally shudders as her organs fight to stay warm chops up my name.
I want to fist-punch the air that she said my name instead of Tyrone’s or her ex-fiancé’s, but I’ve got to keep my game face on. Now is not the time for cockiness. “I’m right here, Jamie. It’s okay. I’ll get you warm real quick.”
After dragging my scissors through the wire refusing to buckle from my jabs, I dump it and her crop top at my feet, then cover every inch of her with the blankets and towels, leaving only her face peeking out. Most people would rub the patient’s arms and legs in an attempt to warm them up. Trust me when I say that’s the worst thing you could do. Excessive jarring movements can cause hypothermic patients to go into cardiac arrest. The best thing is keep them warm and alert, so that’s what I do. I talk to Jamie and ask her questions all while pretending I’m not on the verge of a panic attack. Jamie rarely responds, and the times she does it barely makes any sense.
Several long minutes later, Tyrone skids the van to a halt at the side of the cabin. “We’re here.” He throws open the driver’s side door before racing around to the back of the van to help me carry Jamie out.
Once we have her lying on the table that usually houses twenty for dinner, he gathers the heat packs from the storage closet and places them into the microwave. We seamlessly work together for the next fifteen minutes, monitoring Jamie’s condition while ensuring Claudia and Dallas have everything handled at the river. I’m panicked out of my fucking mind, but also understand this is my moral obligation since I’m the lead instructor for this trip.
When Jamie starts to stir a few minutes later, I nudge my head to the stovetop kettle. “Boil some water. A warm sugary drink will help.”
Tyrone’s brows draw together. “Coffee?”
I shake my head. “No. It can’t have any caffeine. Just sugar and water.”
When Jamie groans, I peer down at her. Her eyes are wide and alert but clearly confused. “Where am I?”
I gather a pair of her glasses Tyrone found in her luggage and place them on the bridge of her nose before moving into her line of sight. “We’re at the cabin. You fell overboard. Do you remember that?”
She nods before attempting to caress the nasty gash on her head. “Leave it. We need you to stay as still as possible.”
“We?”
Tyrone answers her question by arriving at her side with a mug full of warm water and sugar.
She groans again when she peers down. “Am I naked?”
I cringe. “We needed to get you warm.”
“We?” This one is more a sob than a question.
“Me. I cut them off while Tyrone drove the van.” When she attempts to sit up, I carefully push her shoulders back down. “You need to stay horizontal.”
I remove the mug from Tyrone as sirens filter through the air. When I peer at Tyrone, he jerks up his chin, understanding my request with no words needed to be shared between us. While he alerts the EMTs to our location, I lower the mug to Jamie’s mouth. “Can you sip on this? It will help.”
She licks her blue-tinged lips before raising her head enough so she won’t choke. Although her nose screws up when the sugary concoction hits her taste buds, she continues sipping it until she drinks half the cup, and two paramedics enter the kitchen.
“She’s alert and responsive, that’s good.”
The male paramedic pulls out a chair from underneath the table Jamie is sprawled on to check her pulse and the response of her pupils while a female paramedic removes a foil blanket from her kit to curl it around my shoulders. “How are you feeling? Any blurred vision? Impediment of speech?”
I peer at her in confusion. “I’m not the patient.”
“You’re saturated head to toe on a below-freezing day, and your skin is extremely pale.”
I’m about to tell her I have Finnish heritage, so my whiteness is nothing out of the ordinary, but before I can, she shoves me into a seat and sticks a thermometer into my mouth.
Chapter 21
Jamie
“I really wish you would
reconsider. Even if your condition is mild, hypothermic shock isn’t something to take lightly.”
The paramedic isn’t speaking to me. She’s talking to Colby, who’s sitting on the back step of the EMT truck I’m being monitored in. Despite the pretty brunette’s efforts, Colby hasn’t left my side the past hour. I’m okay. I also have a mild case of hypothermic shock and five pretty new stitches in my head. I’m just not being fussed over by my caregiver since he has a wedding band wrapped around his finger. Don’t get me wrong, he’s been extremely helpful, but he’s kept things professional. The same can’t be said for the naughty nurse who can’t take a hint.
“Take two of these three times a day for the next few days.” The male paramedic hands me a bottle of pain medication. “They’ll make you drowsy, but I’d pick drowsy over a throbbing head any day.” He lowers the guard rail he raised when my eye roll nearly had me falling off the bed. I wasn’t getting sassy with him. My eye roll was from overhearing Blow-Up Barbie’s assurance she could warm Colby with nothing but her lips. “If your condition worsens, or you feel disorientated—”
“I won’t hesitate to seek medical assistance.” I spread my hand across his chest before locking my eyes with his nurturing ones. “Thank you. I really appreciate your help.”
“You’re very welcome.” His reply is as humble as the man behind his kind eyes.
Noticing my approach to the back of the EMT truck, Colby stands, then aids me down. “Everything okay?” With the hand not clutching mine, he checks my stitches by carefully brushing away the ringlets sprouting down my face with his pinkie. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”
When I shake my head, he drifts his eyes to my EMT. He assures him in a way I can’t since his hands are on me. They’re making me even woozier than the pain medication the medic offered before stitching me up. “She’s fine. Just needs rest and to be kept warm for the next few days. I don’t think she’s concussed, but I’d still like you to keep an eye on her.”
My eyes rocket to the male paramedic as quickly as his sidekick’s do. “They’re not together.” When he arches a brow at her, she murmurs, “What? They’re not.”
“Come on, Cassie. It’s time to go.” She appears as if he’s just told her they’re taking her puppy to the farm, but she does as requested. When she storms toward the passenger seat of their truck, he returns his eyes to Colby and me. “I expect you to take care of her. If I’m called back here, I add more than a comped jump to my list of requirements.”
My confused eyes dance between Colby and him when Colby says, “Deal.” They seal their agreement with a handshake. “Thanks for taking your time with her, Nixon. She’s ah…” I stare at him, waiting impatiently for him to finish his sentence.
Unfortunately, Nixon is more clued on to his inner workings than me. “I understand.” He moves deeper into the truck to prepare it for departure. “But next time you’re up this way, you better come visit. Eden has been baking a storm of late.”
“I will.” Colby rubs his tummy in anticipation. “I would have come out this weekend, but you know…” he nudges his head to me, “… I’ve got drama queens to take care of.” He laughs when I sock him in the stomach, relieved I’m well enough to return his banter.
After a final wave, Nixon and Cassie return to base while Colby guides me inside, still holding the hand he didn’t relinquish after helping me down from the medic truck. I don’t mind. I’m still a little rattled from my time underwater, although I’ll never tell Colby that. His eyes are holding enough guilt, so there’s no way I’ll add more to them.
“Are you hungry?”
I screw up my nose. “Not really. I’m too tired to eat. Nixon failed to mention my pain medication would knock me on my ass within twenty minutes of taking it until after I swallowed them.”
He laughs. It’s a nice thing to hear considering how tense he is. “Hot cocoa, then?”
I don’t really feel like that either, but since he’s peering at me with pleading eyes, I nod. He’s quick to shut it down, but relief crosses his features when he spots my agreeing gesture.
Compared to last night, the cabin is quiet. “Where is everyone?”
Colby taps the itinerary on the table before suggesting for me to take a seat at one of the many empty chairs. “Even in the event of a near death, activities must continue as scheduled.” He sounds frustrated. I don’t understand why. If I paid ten thousand dollars for a four-day getaway, I’d want my money’s worth even if someone did pass away.
“I wasn’t on the verge of death. I just bumped my head.”
Colby places a pot of milk onto the stovetop before spinning around to face me. “I wasn’t talking about you. I was referring to you discovering I cut off your clothing while lying next to dangerous instruments.”
When he nudges his head to a knife block on my right, I laugh. It hurts my lungs, but the pain is worth it. Not only does it remove some of the worry in Colby’s eyes, it loosens the knot in his shoulders.
“I might have castrated you if you had removed them where you had originally planned.”
From the information I’ve gathered over the past hour, he almost stripped me in front of everyone. I would have died a thousand deaths. I’m comfortable in my own skin, but I’d rather not be paraded naked in front of women who have had their assets enhanced with a surgeon’s knife. I would have also preferred for Colby not to see me like that, but I guess you can’t have everything you want.
Before my cheeks bloom to half their natural hue, Colby says, “Can I ask you something?”
“Isn’t that already a question?” Damn, my pain meds are nearly as good as a few glasses of wine. I’m feeling witty and friendly, a stark contradiction to the cranky cow I woke up as this morning.
Colby gives me a look as if to say, smartass but remains quiet. I wait for him to add cocoa and sugar into the simmering pot of milk before jerking up my chin, granting him permission.
“The bruise on your wrist.” As he drops his eyes to my left wrist, his tongue darts out to replenish his dry lips. “Did you get that from the raft?”
I could lie. I could pretend it occurred when I attempted to grab the safety rope circling the raft, but he just saved my life, so doesn’t he deserve more than a lie?
With my eyes facing the tabletop, I shake my head. They pop back up when Colby exhales a relieved breath. Why is he relieved?
When I ask him that, he says, “You could have lied to me. You didn’t.” He fills two mugs with steaming hot cocoa, places one down in front of me, then sits in the chair opposite me. “Was it caused by Brad?”
“Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.” He doesn’t hear the last half of my sentence. All he hears is me admitting my fiancé bruised me. “He’s stronger than he realizes.” When he growls like he’s seconds away from lecturing me about the pathetic excuse I gave him, I quickly rush out, “But that doesn’t excuse what he did. Accident or not, he has no right to mark me.”
While taking in what I said, he works his jaw from side to side. “Is it the reason you left him?”
I shake my head. “Not entirely. It’s been a long time coming.”
“I thought you were only together a few months?” He sounds confused. I understand why. We corresponded a lot about my relationship at the beginning of our friendship, so he’s well aware I haven’t been with Brad for even a year.
Colby must see something on my face I can’t work out how to express. “Time slows when you’re miserable?”
Sighing, I nod. “Is that why you do this?” I gesture my hand around the cabin.
“Because I’m miserable?” He looks as panicked now as he did when I woke on the table we’re dining at.
I shake my head. “No. To hasten time.”
He smirks. It doesn’t belong to a man who’s happy. “No. It’s quite the opposite actually.”
I wait for him to elaborate—it’s an extremely long two minutes.
“Come on, drink up, th
en I’ll show you your new room.”
That perks me up as much as him dumping another two marshmallows into my drink. “My new room?”
He nudges his head to my cocoa, demanding for me to drink before nodding. “Nixon said I had to keep you warm. I know the perfect place to do that.” Stuff blankets. The innuendo in his tone has me heating up everywhere.
After two mugs of cocoa and way too much silence, Colby guides me into my new room. Just like mine, it’s the size of most log cabins you’ll find in this region of Northern Cali, but it has a roaring fireplace and a bed fit for a king.
When I spot a suitcase near the entrance door, I shift my eyes to Colby. “Whose room was this before it became mine?” I hate the thought of anyone being inconvenienced by me. I already cut their rafting expedition short. I don’t want more annoyance added to the list.
My heart does a crazy dip when he answers, “Mine.”
I step deeper into the space, taking in its quirky features which should have revealed it was his room from the beginning. A three hundred hours of freefall certificate is tacked to the side wall. It’s just above original Star Wars figurines that would make Sci-Fi freaks cream their pants, and a box of specially made chocolates are on the nightstand.
“I still can’t believe you did that. Who gifts their family chocolates molded from their… rectum?” I whisper the last word.
“People who aren’t afraid to say rectum out loud.” Laughing at my mortified face, he moves to the nightstand. “Want one?”
“Eww. No thanks.” I don’t know whether to barf or laugh when he pops a demented seashell-looking chocolate between his lips before chewing it. “You’re disgusting.”
After cleaning smears of chocolate off his teeth with his tongue, he nudges his head to the giant bed in the middle of the room. “Go on, try it out. Let’s see what you think.”
