Page 119 of Tangled up in You

He couldn’t tell how deep the water was at the bank but she was less than ten feet from the edge and it looked like her grip was slipping. Taking a risk, he moved a few feet upstream and leapt, praying, and managed to land exactly where he’d hoped while doing his best to ignore the shock of the cold water. Jesse’s lips were already blue and he carefully edged around the rock, thankfully feeling gravelly bottom under his boots.

“Get ready to pull!” he yelled, hoping Chris could hear. “I don’t know how long I can hold her!” Ideally he’d try to get the pack off her but he was afraid she’d lose her grip in the process and at least the pack was another handhold for him.

Her gaze met his, terror and impending hypothermia blanking her expression. “I’ve got you, honey,” he said, praying that wasn’t a lie. “You have to hold on to me.” He kept one handon the rock, barely, and snaked his other arm around her, under her armpit and between her and the pack.

Yes, it was wet, dead weight, an additional drag for the stream to pry her away from him, but he didn’t have time to critique his swift-water rescue technique. He wasn’t sure, at first, if she even processed his words when she finally threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him.

“Now!” he screamed at Chris and felt the pull of the rope as he scrambled backward toward the shore. Somehow, moments later, both of them lay shivering on the bank with Christopher trying to peel Jesse’s pack off her.

“We need to get her changed and start a fire to warm her up,” Chris said. “Both of you. Right now.”

Mark numbly nodded and stood, untying the rope harness as Chris took charge of Jesse. He scooped her into his arms and headed upstream along the bank, leaving Mark to his own devices.

Adrenaline belatedly slammed into Mark, driving him to his knees, his teeth now chattering.

I’m cold. I need to get warm. I can’t stop moving.

He climbed to his feet, coiled the rope because he knew they might need it, and barely remembered to grab his duty belt and coat and Jesse’s water-soaked pack.

Keep moving. Keep moving until I can get dry and warm.

Yes, they trained.

They trained in summer’s scorching heat and in deep, December snow. In rain and sleet and conditions that would make the most experienced woodsman weep and cry uncle.

But training was a hell of a lot different than this. Especially when most of his duties involved verifying backcountry permits, finding lost hikers, or coordinating with the helitack crew for a short-haul helo rescue, or investigating collared animal deaths. He liked his job because most of it involved dealing with peopleobeying the law and happy to be where they were, all while safely and responsibly enjoying the park.

He’d never drawn his service weapon before. Not outside of training. And he’d also never jumped into a river for a real swift-water rescue.

Mark caught up with Christopher where Chris had dropped his pack. He was already stripping Jesse so he could put dry clothes on her from his pack. He’d shed his jacket and wrapped it around her.

He looked up. “Find your pack and change clothes. Then get back here. We need to start a fire.”

Mark nodded and dropped everything, barely processing that it was ironic Christopher now operated in a kick-ass mode Mark never witnessed in him before.

I’d probably think that was hot if I wasn’t so fucking cold.

Forcing himself to keep moving, he retraced his steps and quickly located his pack and changed. He had two hand warmer packs but he saved them, knowing Jesse needed them more. There were more in his other pack on the mules. Right now, he couldn’t do anything about his soaked shoes, but he found two plastic bags in his pack, pulled them over his fresh, dry socks, and donned his shoes over them. Normally, these boots were reliably waterproof.

Normally, he wasn’t jumping into a frigid, rushing stream to rescue someone.

At least that would do until he built a fire and they dried out. Plus, he was certain he had at least one pair of waterproof socks in his other pack. He hadn’t thought to swap out his usual socks in his pack for extra pairs of waterproof ones, because he hadn’t anticipated an icy swim, and they’d been traipsing through dry terrain.

When he returned to Christopher and Jesse, Chris had dressed her in his spare clothes, which swallowed her. She looked up at Mark, her teeth chattering.

“Th-thank you,” she whispered.

Something seized in his chest, a fist tightly squeezing. She looked so vulnerable, and lost, and completely out of her element. Not just swallowed by Christopher’s clothes, but nearly swallowed whole, irrevocably, by the thing he loved second only to the man standing next to her.

He knelt and activated the warming packs, reaching inside the jacket, tucking them over the shirt but under each armpit.

“Hey, not like I’m going to let another sparkly, pain-in-my-ass vampire unicorn drown. You’re kind of a matched pair now.”

She managed the ghost of a smile as he pulled the coat tightly around her.

Christopher was already up and moving, his small tactical hatchet in his hand. “There was a flat, open area not far upstream. I didn’t see any snags. We can make camp there, lay a fire, and be sheltered from the worst of the wind by the hillside. Move her, make sure it’s safe from snags, and set up the tent and get her inside.”

“What about the mules and the radio?”

---