Chapter 19 #2
Julian knew that before long she’d have no choice. Her fingers would go completely numb, and her grip would give way.
He’d rather she make a controlled slide toward him while she was still able, rather than land wherever gravity might take her. Petula’s trajectory could mean the difference between him catching her and…her submerging before he could get his hands on her.
“It’s time to come to me, Petula,” he urged as steadily as he could.
The blast of a horn from the shore had him turning his attention away from her for a split second.
Trucks. Lots of them.
His brothers.
And sirens. He heard them now in the distance.
“Do you hear that, Petula?” he called out, excitement clear in his voice. “That’s my brothers and EMS. Everything’s going to be okay. They’ll all be waiting for us.”
No. They actually were not all waiting. Three of his brothers were already suited up and headed into the water.
Damn, they were the guys you needed in times like these.
“They’re coming to help us, Petula. But you have to jump. Even once they get here, it’ll be hard for any of us to climb up onto the truck to get you. You have to do it.”
He didn’t want to tell her that if they attempted to hoist themselves up, and inadvertently put their weight in the wrong place, the whole van could tip and go under.
He repeated his initial edict. “You have to let go.”
Petula was whimpering now, and shaking her head.
What could he say to change her mind? How could he reassure her that water was not her enemy?
Fishing.
That was it. Petula had told him over dinner that she and her brother loved to fish. That it had made her brave enough to be near water again.
“I bet this is a great place to go angling in the summer,” Julian began, interjecting a cheerfulness into his voice that he wasn’t feeling. “What do you think? Rainbow trout, or hornpout?”
Petula grunted, daring to look at him again. “I…don’t like cleaning hornpout,” she managed through quivering lips that were turning a dangerous shade of blue.
Shit. He needed to get her on shore as fast as possible.
“Okay,” Julian told her. “Maybe not hornpout, then. But if we do catch those ugly bastards instead of trout, I promise I’ll do all the cleaning.”
She gave a weak laugh, then…
“Okay, Julian. I’m…I’m letting go now,” she warned him.
Whether it was by choice or because of numbness, he didn’t know. But right now, he’d take it.
He stationed himself directly below her, back a few feet so she wouldn’t send him plunging, but close enough that he’d have his arms around her almost immediately.
“I’m ready for you,” he said.
She let go with a yelp, and slid off the roof, right into his arms.
Her head didn’t even go under.
But she was shaking so badly, he needed to step things up.
“You did it,” he assured her, keeping an arm around her torso while fumbling for the end of the rope with his free hand. “I’ve got you. You did good. I just have to get this rope around you.”
Shit. He’d have to let her go in order to do it.
He knew she wasn’t going to like it, but what choice did he have?
“Petula. I need to—"
“I’ve got it.”
Julian nearly wept with relief.
Spencer’s presence had never been more welcome.
Julian immediately felt him grab for the remaining length of rope, and while Julian hung onto Petula tightly, Spence tied it around her waist.
Even with his wetsuit on, Julian could feel the coldness of Petula’s body against his.
Time was certainly of the essence.
The fear in Petula’s eyes was also slowly dimming; her body losing all its rigidity, and had she just now started…humming?
“I’m not so cold anymore,” she marveled waveringly. “And Julian? I’m not afraid, either. This is really just like a big bathtub, isn’t it? And…you’re here.”
Her voice, which just a few minutes before had been sharp and scared, was now slurred and euphoric.
“Hypothermia is setting in,” Spence told him unnecessarily, tying the rope off to his own utility belt.
Yeah. Julian understood that, and it scared the crap out of him. “Let’s move.”
Trask held up an inflatable vest. “We need to get this on her first, so she doesn’t go under.”
It was a smart move, just in case.
While Trask was doing that, Buck came forward holding a neoprene cap, gloves, and booties. “These will help. Not much, but a little.”
Buck yanked the hat down onto Petula’s head, gave Julian the gloves to deal with, then dove down below them to put the booties on Petula’s feet.
It was the best they could do for now.
Once those tasks were complete, Trask raised his voice toward the shore.
“Pull,” he yelled to those waiting.
Mason and Kyle hauled on the rope, while Julian—with the help of the vest—kept Petula’s head from dipping down. His brothers in the water teamed up in arrow formation ahead of them, making sure their path was cleared of debris.
It was a rapid trip in, considering there were four of them with fins cutting through the water.
By the time they reached shore, however, Petula was drifting in and out of consciousness.
Dry hands hauled them onto the bank, where EMT’s quickly and competently stripped Petula down, then covered her, head to toe, with thermal blankets. His brothers had turned their heads away, so as not to see her naked, and for that, Julian was thankful.
“You also need to be checked out, Julian,” his older brother Mason ordered. “You were out there in the cold water quite a while.”
Julian gestured to the three siblings who had come to his aid. “They were—"
“—in drysuits,” Mason finished for him. “They had time to suit up properly. You, on the other hand, did not.”
Mason actually winked at him and tipped his head toward the emergency vehicle.
Julian got it. What his brother wasn’t saying out loud. Julian’s exaggerated coldness would be a way for him to ride in the ambulance with Petula.
Julian didn’t hesitate.
“Yeah. You’re right. I am actually pretty cold.” He shivered, although part of that wasn’t even an act. “It wouldn’t hurt me to head to the hospital.”
Mason nodded at him, hiding his grin from the others as he barked orders to the emergency crew.
“Two to transport,” he said.
Damn, it felt good to have brothers looking out for his best interests.