Chapter 9
It took the vet three tries to pierce the thick hide of the moose with the needle, but once that was done, the countdown began.
The white-haired expert told them it could take up to twenty minutes for the sedative to take effect, but Jett readied herself for action immediately, just in case.
She knew there’d be a fine line between the time the huge animal succumbed to the tranquilizer, and when his head would go under.
She couldn’t waste a second. The moment the creature started to buckle, he’d be in danger of drowning.
She remained poised.
Trask had strapped her into a harness that he’d made secure around her, and…
Yes. She’d breathed in his luscious scent as he’d turned her expertly this way and that, tightening things. She was only human, after all, and even though the situation they were tasked with was dire, Trask was just too compelling to ignore.
She managed to get her head back on track when he finally backed up to bark more directions.
“When the time is right, the firefighters and I will rapidly lower you into the well,” he told her. “The first thing you’ll need to do is run this webbing under the moose’s chin, then you’ll hand the leads up to us.” He passed over a thick nylon cinching-strap.
“We’ll keep his nose above water while you get the rest of the slings around him from underneath, then we’ll winch him up.”
One of the firefighters was busy rigging a pully system on a large branch that overhung the well after testing it with his body weight.
Jett drew in a deep, calming breath, and gave Trask an okay signal while snapping her mask in place.
This certainly wasn’t the hairiest rescue she’d ever performed, but it sure as hell was the strangest. She almost laughed, thinking about how she’d describe this event on a resumé.
The vet drew her attention.
“He may twitch a bit, even after he’s out,” the man warned, keeping a close eye on the huge beast. “So, stay clear of his body the best you can.”
Say what?
Jett wanted to snort over the useless piece of information.
It would probably be good advice if the hole was bigger, but as it was, there’d barely be any wiggle room.
She was going to have to slip her body down between the wall of the cistern and the moose to get him harnessed up.
She could only hope he wouldn’t lean over on her.
“How much do you think he weighs?” she asked the vet, just out of curiosity.
“I estimated, for tranquilizer purposes, that he’s somewhere around a thousand pounds. He’s young, so he hasn’t reached his full weight yet.”
Goody. Only a thousand pounds.
Yup. If she survived, this was clearly something to put on her resumé.
To kill time, Jett asked another question that had been running around in her head, turning to Officer Daniella. “Who did you say found this poor moose?”
The sergeant pointed over to two boys that Jett had missed, hanging out under a tree, snapping pictures on their phones.
Great. They’d be all over social media by nightfall.
Although that certainly wouldn’t be bad for Diver Downeast’s reputation.
“Like I said, they were snowshoeing and heard this guy bellowing. When they saw that they weren’t going to be able to help, they called us, which was lucky.
We’d only recently been sent an online flyer by Diver Downeast, and knew just who to call.
Without you guys, we would have had to find a local with diving expertise and the right equipment, which would have wasted precious minutes we obviously didn’t have. ”
“Right place, right time,” Trask told the officer with a smile, and Jett felt a jolt to her stomach. The damned man was gorgeous when sullen, but downright stunning when he let joy show on his face.
Wait. He was smiling at the pretty cop? He hadn’t smiled at her. Did he see something there that he liked?
Shafts of jealousy stabbed through Jett, and she didn’t know what to do with those feelings. Never once in her life had she felt even remotely proprietary toward a male, and it was…unnerving.
She scoffed.
It must be due to the tense situation.
It couldn’t possibly be because she’d already formed some weird attachment to the grumpy man after knowing him for only a few hours. Not even close. Adrenaline, no matter how slow the trickle, could confuse ones emotions.
Yeah. That was it.
Time ticked by slowly, but the minute the vet alerted them to the moose losing consciousness, Jett sat down on the edge of the hole and pushed off, swiftly being lowered into the water.
It took only a few seconds for her to secure the big animal’s head, passing the requisite lines up to Trask for safe-keeping. Once that task was accomplished, Jett gave herself a few precious seconds to assess.
Crap. He really was freaking large.
She lowered her mask, took a deep breath, and dipped down under the beast to see if there was anything impeding his rescue other than the gravity working on his unwieldy, bulky body.
She was happy to find no lines wrapped around his surprisingly delicate legs, and no muck miring him down to the bottom.
She surfaced, sucking in a breath before giving everyone above the good news. “He looks clear from below. Nothing impeding his lower body,” she apprised the team. “Hand me down those straps and I’ll get a sling around him so you can haul him up.”
While she waited, she took the opportunity to get a good—up close and personal—look at the moose.
He was a handsome devil, and she gave in to temptation and stroked his soft nose, because when would she ever get such an opportunity again? Probably never.
Chuffs of warm breath emerged like dragon-smoke from his nostrils as he readily took in and blew out air. Tears threatened behind Jett’s mask. This magnificent creature had gotten very lucky. Another few minutes and they might have been too late.
Mr. Moose moved a bit while the gear she needed was being lowered, but by sticking next to his head, Jett managed not to get squished between the walls and his massive torso.
She knew that once she started harnessing him, however, she’d be over, under, and around him, so she’d have to stay vigilant.
Lines and clips in hand, Jett went to work.
Her mind blanked out everything but the task in front of her.
It was a skill she’d perfected early on in her military career.
Normally her brain was all over the place, flitting from one thing to another, curiosity often overtaking common sense.
But out of necessity, she’d quickly learned how to manage her easily-distracted self, which was a good thing.
She never would have made it into the PJs, otherwise.
Her hands were quick and sure.
One more buckle…
Jett submerged for a final time, reaching for the last strap she’d just thrown over the moose’s back. She felt it click into place, secured, when all of a sudden, the large bulk of bull shifted and…
Shit.
She was pinned from neck to waist
Calm. Stay calm.
Jett tried wiggling to no avail.
She attempted pushing at the massive torso, but she had no leverage.
Don’t panic, she told herself again.
From experience, she knew that she could hold her breath for ninety seconds if she remained relaxed.
She could do this. She wasn’t alone. There were a bunch of firemen up above. Surely one of them—
Jett felt a large splash, and looked over to where the disturbance had occurred, almost sucking in a lungful of water in her surprise.
Trask.
Without protective clothing.
Without a mask.
Well, crap. The foolish man had just jumped in to save her.
As she watched in awe, he kneed the huge beast in the side with no luck, then he ducked down and took a look at her work, yanking on the lines to signal to the people above that the moose was ready for hoisting.
He kept his face right in front of hers, leaning his weight into the moose until—
The pressure on Jett’s body disappeared.
Trask grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him, avoiding the now dangling legs of the moose. Breaking the surface with both their heads, Jett gulped air into her starved lungs.
Yes.
She was alive. Thanks to Trask, but…
The foolish man was going to be a freaking popsicle.
Once the moose was out of the way, another line, already looped, hit the water, and without hesitation, Trask wrapped it around both of them. Hugging her tightly, they were dragged from the well.
“What were you thinking?” Jett scolded in a shrill voice as she loosened the line from around them after they’d both flopped on the ground. She sat up and began scrabbling with his clothes, knowing they had to come off. “Somebody get me some dry things,” she demanded loudly.
Trask sat too, with difficulty, and slapped her hands away.
“I’m fully capable of doing this myself,” he said, but his teeth were beginning to chatter and he didn’t seem like he was moving very fast.
“You crazy man,” Jett admonished. “You couldn’t have waited another minute to see if I could get myself free?”
“Not a chance,” he told her, a shiver wracking his body as someone handed her a towel. She stood, and from above began vigorously scrubbing his head dry as the stubborn man’s fingers fumbled on his shirt buttons, unsuccessfully.
“Oh, here,” she huffed. “Let me.” Castigation in her voice, she dropped the towel to bend down and take over.
“Are you being bossy?”
He looked amused. Blue, but amused.
“I can be when the need arises,” she responded dryly. “Now behave yourself and let me get you out of these things.”
Someone placed a pile of firefighter turn-out gear next to her on the ground and she snorted.
“Great.” She rolled her eyes, then addressed Trask. “You ever want to play fireman?” she asked him, slipping his arms from his sopping wet shirt.
“Not before this, but with you? It might be…interesting.”
Sure. Now he got playful.
She was already having a tough time ignoring the vast, ropey planes of his thick arms and chest, without having him sound like he was flirting.
Flirting… Ripped body…
Lord. How was she going to deal with getting him out of his pants?
Someone cleared their throat nearby, and Jett remembered they weren’t alone. If she were smart, she’d get someone else to strip him down, but for now, she wrapped the towel around his stunning sternum, and looked for a distraction.
She remembered the moose that was now laying not five feet away. A welcome diversion
“How is he doing?” she asked no one in particular.
The vet was checking the bull over, and straightened up with a smile. “Vitals are normal. I think when he wakes up, he’ll be good to go. But we should all distance ourselves a bit. There’s no telling what his mood will be like when he snaps out of it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” the sergeant said, and began clearing the area of personnel.
Jett watched for a moment as Trask attempted to struggle to his feet so he could remove his pants, and sighed.
“Not happening, huh?” she lamented as his butt hit the snowy ground again.
She wished he was stripping down under completely different circumstances.
One where she could share her body heat with him without her wet, drysuit in the way.
She smothered a groan, and instead of throwing herself at him, she did the smart thing.
“Can I get a little help here?” she called out.
Two firefighters rushed over to assist Trask to his feet, and between all three of them, they had him out of his clothes and into the borrowed turn-outs almost before Jett could register the massive muscles in Trask’s thighs.
Almost.
She’d carry that picture of him—half undressed and supported by buff firefighters—into her fantasies for a long freaking time. It would make for some hot vibrator-fodder.
While the firemen were making sure that Trask remained steady on his feet, Jett shucked off her drysuit, also peeling off the hoodie Trask had lent her, adding it to his current wardrobe. The more layers the better for him right now.
She stood back and actually grinned. Trask looked both cute and silly in all his finery, two words he’d probably loathe to hear in relation to himself. Again, Jett took a mental picture. She was amassing quite the pipedream-album.
While she was ogling Trask, one officer was paying attention to her, it seemed.
“Take my coat,” he said, looking appreciably her way as he took off his uniform jacket.
Yes, he was cute, but…
“Thanks. But mine is in the navy-blue truck if you wouldn’t mind going to get it?” She smiled at the handsome cop while not giving him any encouragement.
He seemed to get it.
“Sure thing.” The officer dimpled up and trotted off, clearly thinking nothing lost…
Jett watched him go, and heard a growl from a now upright Trask.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he grumbled. “Nothing at all.”