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“Kayaker’s in trouble,” was all she said and before our guide even noticed, she’d ripped off her life vest and launched over the side of the raft.
“Hey!” Billy sputtered as he watched her cut through the water with sure, powerful strokes. “What are you doing?”
“She’s pararescue,” Steve said casually, shrugging like it was no big deal, like the guide had the first clue what that meant. He was too busy freaking out about her drowning and how he was going to lose his job.
I’d never seen Madelyn in action and I watched in fascination as she came up on the kayaker struggling to right herself. It was clear the woman didn’t have a clue as to what to do and Madelyn must have released the bib, because the struggle ceased for a moment as the woman went under. Then she was back up, splashing and flailing, and even at our distance I knew Madelyn was warning her to be still and calm so she could tow her in. It didn’t look like she was getting a whole lot of cooperation, though.
There was a sudden, sharp slap that echoed across the water and a stunned silence. It gave Madelyn enough time to position herself and we watched, Billy’s jaw practically unhinged, as she calmly towed the woman to shore.
“Might want to radio that in,” Steve said to Billy with a bemused grin on his face. “That’s probably one of your kayaks.”
Billy muttered something in irritation and pulled a waterproof walkie talkie out of a cargo pocket to relay instructions to someone who was presumably on shore.
By the time we reached the bottom of the run and dragged out the raft, the van was waiting for us and we rode quietly back to the office.
Madelyn was already sitting on the steps, drying in the sun, a paper in one hand and a beer in the other. There was some blood on the side of her face.
“They made me sign a fucking waiver,” she sputtered, shaking the paper. “I save the woman from herself and this company’s afraid I’m going to sue them.”
Billy had the good sense to look contrite.
“You give her a concussion?” Steve teased, and Madelyn shot him a side eye like I’d never seen.
“I didn’t slap herthathard, just hard enough to get her to stop fighting me. She was going to drown both of us because she was panicking.”
I noticed then that she had a nasty gash above her eyebrow and my feet dragged me over to her without consulting my brain. I knelt quickly, my fingers on her cheek. “She clocked you good.”
“Nailed me with her damn paddle.” She lifted her hand to press her fingers to the cut and I waited for her to wince, but she didn’t. “Whatever. I can stitch myself up at home.”
“The hell you will,” came tripping out of my mouth before I could stop it. “I’m doing it.”
Steve stood there shaking his head at us and I pushed to my feet, holding out a hand to Madelyn, who pointedly ignored it. “Whatever, Beckman,” she muttered. “Treat me like a helpless little girl, just like everyone else.”
“Bullshit,” I said, surprised by the fierceness in my own voice as I whirled and got right down in her face. “You’re a tough chick, VanBuren, but you don’t have to do everything by yourself.”
Would it have killed her to give us a heads-up that she was going in after the woman? She didn’t ask for help, which was an awful lot like the stubborn little kid I remembered. No wonder she made it through Superman school and landed a rare spot with the PJ’s: the woman refused to quit.
Her training took over and she threw herself into the water without a second thought. At that point nothing else mattered to her, because she was on the job and there was no thought for anything or anyone but the task at hand.
Her lips went tight and she gave me a look when I opened the door and waited until she was in the truck before closing it.
“Take us to my place,” I told Steve. “I can stitch her up and get her home later.”
He didn’t say a thing, just nodded and put the truck into drive.
“I’ll get her back,” I promised him again for the second time in ten minutes as he parked next to my truck.
“Take your time,” he said easily. “I doubt Kenny was expecting us for another hour, at least. By the time you show up there will be food.”
That was Steve, always on about the food. The man could burn calories just thinking about them.
Lucy met us at the door and Madelyn folded in half to scoop up the little fluff ball with an exclamation of surprise and delight. I think I told her the cat’s name and it did something funny inside my chest when she cuddled Lucy close and the little cat began to rattle with a loud purr. Lucy didn’t accept anyone readily, yet she’d met us at the door and allowed Madelyn to pick her right up. That was saying something in a big way, that my girl had accepted her so easily.
“Follow me,” I said, kicking off my shoes in the small entryway and leading her toward the kitchen. She toed her shoes off behind me and followed on bare feet, and I hoped to God I hadn’t left the kitchen a mess that morning.
a guardian angel“Pick a spot.” I pointed toward the table with two chairs while I dug around in a cabinet for my kit. I pulled out a bottle of whiskey and handed it across the space. “Some for the wound…some for the gut. I have lidocaine cream, but I won’t lie and tell you this isn’t going to hurt.”
There was a sharp sound behind me and I realized it was a snort.
