the rest of her beer and grabbed her board. Before she reached the water, a surfboard minus rider bulleted into the air from the shallows. A headfirst wipeout.
She scanned for the surfer. Adrenaline pumped away any alcohol effects as Jo rushed into the water. Nearby surfers had a surfboard under the victim by the time she reached him. She held his neck stable as they brought him ashore. “Call nine-one-one!” She checked for a pulse. Weak and thready. No respiration. Carefully, she tilted his head back and started CPR.
A woman claiming to be a nurse forced her way through the crowd and started compressions while Jo did the breaths.
No one had ever died on Jo’s watch. When sirens pierced her concentration, she didn’t know how long she and the nurse had been doing CPR.
The EMTs chugged over the dunes carrying their gear, and relieved her. In a full sweat from exertion and terror, she welcomed them. After finding no pulse, they unzipped a portable defibrillator, and placed its pads on the young man’s bare chest. As current raced through his body his torso jerked.
Unable to tear her gaze from their efforts, she hugged herself in the chilling breeze. A warm sweatshirt covered her shoulders from behind. She bobbed and hands steadied her.
From his scent alone, she recognized Ray’s solid form. His hands skimmed about her bare waist, and she melted into his warm embrace. “I seem to be making a habit of needing your gear.”
“You don’t hear me complaining,” he whispered.
A second shock from the AED produced a pulse and the EMTs loaded him onto a backboard and transported him to the ambulance.
She released a weary sigh of relief and tucked her chin to her chest in a silent prayer.
Ray urged her away from the crowd. “Let’s get your stuff.”
She shrugged into the sleeves of his hoodie and fished her keys from her backpack.
He grabbed her board and walked her to the parking lot.
The EMTs loaded their patient while Ray’s lieutenant asked her a few questions for his report. The unit roared off, sirens blaring.
Jo shivered a new set of goose bumps as Ray headed her to the Bronco. “Do you think he’s going to make it?”
“The only reason he has a chance is because of you, Jo.”
The pride in his voice touched her. Tears gathered and she keyed the remote before tossing her gear inside. Once in control, she faced him. In the waning light, he seemed larger than life. A hero.
One of her teammates had coined a term for the total man: he-man-us . The Hemanus breed surpassed good looks, confidence, personality, and smarts. They were loyal and supportive. To the point they’d put their lives on the line for their family or friends. Ray was a total Hemanus.
“Thanks for having my back.” She hugged him.
His warmth satisfied a need deep in her bones. When his hands closed around her bringing her closer, his strong, steady heartbeat instilled peace and tranquility. He chased away her fear and doubt. She allowed herself the moment, imagining falling asleep nestled against his chest.
Reluctantly, she withdrew. “What are you doing working at this station?”
“On a swing shift. They were a man short.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder. His pale eyes held her captive.
“Lucky me.” Why couldn’t she tell him she loved him? How he made her feel. Like he had told her on the Fourth of July, right before she shredded him to bits for obeying her father’s wishes. Searching his face, she tried to determine if his feelings. “Haven’t heard from you since my breakfast apology.”
He cocked his head before breaking into a grin. “Still waiting for an invitation to surf with the former East Coast Surfing Champion.”
“I already said you never need an invitation to surf, or to come the house.”
“Figured you were job hunting and I’ve been picking up some side jobs. Gotta feeling Mom will be calling at any time wanting me to help move her back.” He let out a long exhale.
The calendar must
She scanned for the surfer. Adrenaline pumped away any alcohol effects as Jo rushed into the water. Nearby surfers had a surfboard under the victim by the time she reached him. She held his neck stable as they brought him ashore. “Call nine-one-one!” She checked for a pulse. Weak and thready. No respiration. Carefully, she tilted his head back and started CPR.
A woman claiming to be a nurse forced her way through the crowd and started compressions while Jo did the breaths.
No one had ever died on Jo’s watch. When sirens pierced her concentration, she didn’t know how long she and the nurse had been doing CPR.
The EMTs chugged over the dunes carrying their gear, and relieved her. In a full sweat from exertion and terror, she welcomed them. After finding no pulse, they unzipped a portable defibrillator, and placed its pads on the young man’s bare chest. As current raced through his body his torso jerked.
Unable to tear her gaze from their efforts, she hugged herself in the chilling breeze. A warm sweatshirt covered her shoulders from behind. She bobbed and hands steadied her.
From his scent alone, she recognized Ray’s solid form. His hands skimmed about her bare waist, and she melted into his warm embrace. “I seem to be making a habit of needing your gear.”
“You don’t hear me complaining,” he whispered.
A second shock from the AED produced a pulse and the EMTs loaded him onto a backboard and transported him to the ambulance.
She released a weary sigh of relief and tucked her chin to her chest in a silent prayer.
Ray urged her away from the crowd. “Let’s get your stuff.”
She shrugged into the sleeves of his hoodie and fished her keys from her backpack.
He grabbed her board and walked her to the parking lot.
The EMTs loaded their patient while Ray’s lieutenant asked her a few questions for his report. The unit roared off, sirens blaring.
Jo shivered a new set of goose bumps as Ray headed her to the Bronco. “Do you think he’s going to make it?”
“The only reason he has a chance is because of you, Jo.”
The pride in his voice touched her. Tears gathered and she keyed the remote before tossing her gear inside. Once in control, she faced him. In the waning light, he seemed larger than life. A hero.
One of her teammates had coined a term for the total man: he-man-us . The Hemanus breed surpassed good looks, confidence, personality, and smarts. They were loyal and supportive. To the point they’d put their lives on the line for their family or friends. Ray was a total Hemanus.
“Thanks for having my back.” She hugged him.
His warmth satisfied a need deep in her bones. When his hands closed around her bringing her closer, his strong, steady heartbeat instilled peace and tranquility. He chased away her fear and doubt. She allowed herself the moment, imagining falling asleep nestled against his chest.
Reluctantly, she withdrew. “What are you doing working at this station?”
“On a swing shift. They were a man short.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder. His pale eyes held her captive.
“Lucky me.” Why couldn’t she tell him she loved him? How he made her feel. Like he had told her on the Fourth of July, right before she shredded him to bits for obeying her father’s wishes. Searching his face, she tried to determine if his feelings. “Haven’t heard from you since my breakfast apology.”
He cocked his head before breaking into a grin. “Still waiting for an invitation to surf with the former East Coast Surfing Champion.”
“I already said you never need an invitation to surf, or to come the house.”
“Figured you were job hunting and I’ve been picking up some side jobs. Gotta feeling Mom will be calling at any time wanting me to help move her back.” He let out a long exhale.
The calendar must
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