Chapter 4
Icall the office again and get Linda on the line.
“Linda, I’m definitely interested in applying.”
“Oh, wonderful!” Her voice brightens. “We don’t have a website for applications, so you’ll have to come in person. But I’m just in town, and I’ve got everything ready for you.”
“Perfect.”
I glance at Neptune, curled up on the loveseat with one eye half-open, supervising my entire life.
“I’ll be right back, Neps.” I give his head a gentle scratch. “Hold the fort.”
I make my way into town, following the address Linda gave me. The office is right by the Depoe Bay harbor, tucked between a saltwater taffy shop and a gallery selling ocean paintings. Linda waits for me with a bright smile and a stack of papers.
“May, hi!” She lifts the stack slightly. “Here’s the application.”
I fill it out, provide my work contract, and sign in all the right places. She thanks me and promises to call as soon as she hears anything.
I step outside and catch a whiff of salt air, the harbor stretching out before me. Fishing boats bob in the water, and a few tourists linger, their cameras aimed at the horizon.
I feel a pang of guilt that Neptune isn’t here to enjoy the sea breeze with me. “Next time, buddy,” I murmur, promising myself I will give him a proper tour.
As I walk back to Rusty, I hear children’s voices ahead.
“Look, she’s bleeding!” one of them cries.
My heart jumps.
I quicken my pace and find a small group of kids near the rocks, pointing at the water’s edge.
“Which one is bleeding?” I ask, but before they can answer, I see it.
A young seal is clinging to the edge of the rocks, shivering and clearly in distress. Blood stains the water around her, and my chest tightens. She’s so small.
I scan the area, looking for any sign of another seal, but she’s alone. The kids chatter excitedly, telling me a group of sea lions came through not long ago and all the seals scattered—except this one.
A drop of rain hits my cheek, and I glance at the sky. The clouds are thickening, the wind picking up, and I can smell the rain coming.
Panic threatens to cloud my mind, but I force myself to breathe. I need to think.
I reach for my phone, my hands shaking slightly. I scroll to the only contact I have at my new job—my boss, George.
He picks up on the second ring.
“George here.” His deep, older voice is steady.
“Hi, George. It’s May Moreira.”
“May!” he exclaims. “How are you? We’re expecting you. You are coming, right? This isn’t a call to tell me you’ve changed your mind? We’re counting on you.”
“No, George.” I hurry to reassure him. “I’m already in town. I arrived a few days early to settle in.”
“Oh, thank God.” Relief floods his voice. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m by the harbor, on the ocean side,” I say, my voice tightening. “There’s a young seal in distress. She’s bleeding and needs to be transported.”
“Oh no.” The concern in his voice is immediate. “Sure, I can have someone come get it. Where is it exactly?”
I do my best to describe the spot, feeling like a tourist in my own town.
“Alright. I’ll send someone right away. They’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“That might be too late.” I glance at the rising tide and the drizzle starting to fall. “She’s in clear distress, and the water’s coming in fast. I’m going to approach and see if I can help. I have gloves in the truck.”
“May, be extremely careful.” His tone turns serious. “That area can get dangerous quickly, especially near high tide.”
“I will. Just send help as fast as you can.”
“Of course. Hang tight, May.”
We disconnect, and I run to my truck, fumbling for gloves and a towel. The drizzle is turning steady now, misting the air.
“Don’t worry, pup,” I say under my breath as I head back toward the shore. “I’m coming for you.”
I make my way down the path, the drizzle soaking into my hoodie and clinging to my hair. My boots crunch on the damp gravel, and I’m thankful I decided to wear my hiking boots today. The last thing I need is to slip and make a bigger mess of this.
The rocks are slick, shining with rain and sea spray. I slow my pace, scanning the shoreline for any sign of other seals that might be lingering nearby, but I don’t see any. It’s just the young one, clinging to the edge of the rocks.
I crouch low, moving carefully, keeping my profile small. I know better than to rush a wild animal, especially one in distress. If it tries to move, it could mean the end for the poor pup. One wrong step into the surf and they’re gone.
“Hey, sweet pup,” I murmur, the sound of my voice blending with the patter of rain on the rocks. “I’m here to help.”
I inch closer, my boots finding purchase on the uneven stones. My eyes scan the small body. This pup is definitely young, with patches of blood darkening its fur. Her sides rise and fall in shallow, uneven breaths.
Every few seconds, she lifts her head, eyes wide and terrified. I move slowly, giving her space, letting her realize I’m not a threat. The last thing I want is to panic the poor pup into the water.
I glance around again, hoping to spot another seal—maybe a mother or a sibling—but there’s nothing. We are all alone.
I take a deep breath, the salt air mixing with the earthy scent of wet rocks.
“It’s okay, little one,” I whisper. “I’m going to help you. Just stay with me.”
I move closer, one careful step at a time, the rain dripping from my hair and soaking my gloves.
The rain isn’t just falling. It’s coming down in sheets, nearly horizontal, soaking straight through my two jackets and the not-so-waterproof boots I’m wearing.
And still… I’m here. Kneeling on the wet rocks. Whispering to a stranded seal pup like I’m the Dr. Dolittle of the Pacific Northwest.
“You’re okay,” I murmur, blinking through water dripping from my eyelashes. “You’re gonna be okay, pup. Just stay with me until help gets here, okay?”
That’s when I hear it.
A deep, masculine “HEEEEY!” cuts through the sound of crashing waves.
I look up.
Oh. Oh no.
A man is making his way down the rocks—no, charging toward me like he’s on some kind of mission. He’s tall, broad, soaked, and absolutely wearing a firefighter uniform. There’s a logo on his chest and concern in his expression. Also? His jaw could probably cut glass.
“You can’t be here,” he yells over the wind. “The storm’s rolling in too fast. It’s not safe.”
“I’m not leaving this pup,” I snap, pulling the towel tighter. “She is very young, and she is hurt. If the tide reaches her, she won’t survive.”
He strides toward me, rain dripping off his jacket, face hard. “Lady, I get it. I really do. But this area gets dangerous at high tide, and I’m asking you—”
Another voice cuts in, smoother, teasing.
“Whoa, whoa, play nice, Hero.”
We both turn.
And there he is. Walking up like he owns the beach. Brown hair messy from the wind, smug smile in place, a Coast Guard patch on his jacket, and confidence radiating off him like heat. It’s the guy from the gas station, Finn.
“I mean,” he continues, eyeing me with interest, “if she wants to risk life and limb for a baby seal, I say we let her. That’s a ballsy move. I respect it.”
The fireman groans. “Finn, not now.”
Finn shrugs. “What? I’m just saying that if I were a lost baby seal, I’d want her in my corner.”
I blink at him. “Thanks… I think.”
He grins wider, crouching beside me without hesitation. “Name’s Finn, by the way. And you are?”
“May.”
“May,” he repeats, like he’s trying it out on his tongue. “Pretty name for a woman with fire in her eyes.”
The fireman mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like “unbelievable.”
I glare at him. “Do either of you want to help, or are we just here to mansplain coastal rescue to a marine biologist?”
Finn chuckles. “I like her.”
The fireman doesn’t smile. But his eyes—those serious, stormy eyes—lock onto mine for a beat too long, and just like that, I’m caught between two men. One’s already under my skin. The other? Might be dangerous in a whole different way.
The firefighter guy seems to give up arguing with me—already knowing he’s lost—and sighs.
“Alright,” he mutters, then shrugs off his heavy jacket. Without another word, he drapes it over my shoulders.
“Hey,” I start to protest, shifting under the weight. “You really don’t—”
“At least let me do this,” he says firmly, his voice calm but unwavering. “You’re soaked.”
I bite my lip and let him. Immediately, I’m warmer, though the jacket feels like it weighs fifty pounds. It’s probably the most waterproof thing I’ve ever worn.
He steps closer to me, peering at the seal pup with a careful, practiced eye. “What can I do to help?” he asks, voice low and serious.
I exhale slowly, glancing down at the little one trembling on the rocks.
“There’s nothing to be done until proper help arrives,” I tell him.
“It looks like it’s bleeding from the right hind flipper—probably from an attack.
All I’m trying to do is keep an eye on it.
We need to make sure it doesn’t get back in the water. ”
He nods, his expression thoughtful. “Okay. I can do that.”
From a few feet back, Finn calls out, “Can I help?”
I turn my head, hissing under my breath, “No! Keep your voice down. We don’t want to scare the pup into the water.”
He lifts his hands in surrender, though his grin says he’s enjoying the show.
The firefighter, now close enough that I can see the raindrops clinging to his lashes, leans in a bit more. His presence is steady, calming in a way I hadn’t expected. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with short blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Handsome in every way possible.
“I’m Aiden,” he says, his voice low, sincere.
“May,” I reply, my breath catching a little at the way his name fits him so perfectly.
At that moment, a man in a khaki uniform makes his way down the rocks, his face serious but calm.
“Hi there,” he says, voice professional but kind. “I’m Gavin.”
“May,” I say, nodding.
He crouches down, studying the pup. “Can you tell me what you’ve observed so far?”
I quickly fill him in on everything—the bleeding, the possible attack, the lack of other seals nearby, and the rising tide. Gavin nods, listening intently, then glances at Aiden and me.
“Okay,” he says. “Let’s make a plan. We want to avoid touching the seal as much as possible, but we need to transport her immediately if we want her to survive.
I nod, adrenaline mixing with relief. We’re in this together now.
The seal is finally secured in the rescue vehicle, its tiny body swaddled gently, and I watch as they drive away to get her the care she needs. My shoulders slump with relief, but also exhaustion—the adrenaline fading, leaving me shaky.
Gavin steps over to me, his khaki uniform damp and his smile kind. “Hey, May. Just wanted to let you know I will be your guide during your first week at work. I’m really looking forward to having you on board.”
I smile, genuinely. “Thank you. I’m looking forward to working with you too. And thanks for showing up so fast.”
“Of course,” he says, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading back toward his vehicle.
A group of firefighters is gathered near the road, laughing and talking about the “huge rescue” they all just witnessed, like they’d actually been the ones crawling over wet rocks with the rain lashing their faces.
I catch snippets of jokes at Aiden’s expense, something about the hero who did nothing but share his jacket.
Finn’s there too, surrounded by his search-and-rescue team. He jumps right in, a grin splitting his face as he teases, “Aiden, the knight in shining armor—who saved the day with his…jacket.”
Aiden rolls his eyes, his jaw tightening.
I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“You know,” I say, loud enough for the group to hear, “some heroes show up and know exactly when to help, and when to step back and let someone else do the work. Aiden did that. And I’m grateful.
” I pause, letting my eyes sweep over the group.
“Unlike a bunch of assholes standing around patting themselves on the back for nothing.”
The group goes quiet for a second. Aiden’s eyes meet mine, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
He walks up to me, close enough that I can see the rain still clinging to his eyelashes. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” he says, voice low but warm.
I shrug, pretending the pounding of my heart is just from the cold. “It’s not a problem.”
His smile widens. “I’m guessing you’re new to town?”
I nod, trying not to blush. “Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice rougher than before. “See you around.”
I slip off his heavy jacket and hold it out to him. “Here. You’ll need this more than I will.”
His fingers brush mine as he takes it, and for a second, I forget about the rain and the cold and the chaos of the night.
I turn and make my way toward my truck, only half a block away. My boots squish on the wet pavement, the rain still falling but much lighter now.
“Hey,” Finn calls, jogging up beside me.
I sigh inwardly but stop and turn to face him. “Yeah?”
“You okay?” he asks, eyes dancing with concern, or maybe amusement. It’s hard to tell with him.
I chuckle softly, shaking my head. “I’m perfectly fine, Finn.”
He laughs. “You want to go get something to eat? I can get you something to warm you up.”
I give him a tight smile. “Thanks, but no thanks. I gotta go get my dog.”
Finn’s grin fades just a little, but he nods. “Alright. Take care, Seal Girl.”
“See you around,” I say, climbing into Rusty and closing the door with a sigh.
The engine rumbles to life, and I head back toward the hotel, to Neptune, and the start of this brand-new chapter.