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Summer At The Shore
Carol Ross
Saving lives is who they areRisking his life for others is all in a day’s work for Coast Guard Petty Officer Jay Johnston. Until he comes to the rescue of Mia Frasier after her small plane goes down. Maybe it’s because the empathic, blue-eyed vet wants to save the world just as passionately as Jay wants to create a safe haven for his five younger siblings, but there's no denying their bond. Despite his growing feelings for Mia, a romantic relationship isn’t on Jay’s radar. How can two people always on the move stay in one place long enough to create a family of their own?
Saving lives is who they are
Risking his life for others is all in a day’s work for Coast Guard petty officer Jay Johnston. Until he comes to the rescue of Mia Frasier after her small plane goes down. Maybe it’s because the empathetic blue-eyed vet wants to save the world just as passionately as Jay wants to create a safe haven for his five younger siblings, but there’s no denying their bond. Despite his growing feelings for Mia, a romantic relationship isn’t on Jay’s radar. How can two people always on the move stay in one place long enough to create a family of their own?
“My life is very complicated, Mia.”
“Because of your family situation?”
Jay squeezed his eyes shut, but not before Mia saw the flash of pain. When he opened them again, she felt a hitch in her chest. There was so much raw emotion there—pain, regret and a sadness that made her own heart ache. He searched her face. “I can’t be what you need.”
“How do you know what I need?” she managed to say.
A sad smile played on his lips. “As much as I’d love to find out, I’m not the man to give it to you, to give you anything.”
“Jay, I’m not asking you for anything.”
He lowered his gaze to her lips. “This is such a bad idea,” he whispered.
“I know. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“We’re going to anyway, though, aren’t we.”
It wasn’t a question, she realized, and knew he was right.
Dear Reader (#u52ae8b8f-7334-5f9a-a549-93308d726184),
Like a lot of you out there, I’m an animal lover. I’ve always had pets: cats, dogs, bunnies, gerbils, hamsters, fish, goats. I spent a good portion of my childhood thinking I would be a veterinarian when I grew up. I held on to this dream until the day my cat “introduced” himself to my gerbil and I realized that I wouldn’t be able to save them all. Fortunately, there are those selfless and insightful people out there who understand that being a veterinarian isn’t all about them—it’s about saving or comforting an injured or ill critter in whatever way they can.
Heroine and veterinarian Mia Frasier is this kind of person. She sees the bigger picture and she wants to make a difference, to leave the world a better place. Maybe a little too much sometimes.
A chaotic upbringing combined with years of supplying financial support to his younger siblings have left Jay Johnston focused on his family and confident that he can provide. But when his teenage brother and sister come to live with him, he soon finds life spiraling out of his control. Jay needs help. Mia knows he needs help. It’s a tricky thing, though—help. It’s not easy to ask for, it’s difficult to admit that you need it, and offering it can often cause problems, too. Thankfully, an orphaned dog, a hellish tomcat and two troubled teens get Jay and Mia to finally learn to meet in the middle.
Thanks so much for reading!
Carol
Summer at the Shore
Carol Ross
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CAROL ROSS lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two dogs. She is a graduate of Washington State University. When not writing, or thinking about writing, she enjoys reading, running, hiking, skiing, traveling and making plans for the next adventure to subject her sometimes reluctant but always fun-loving family to. Carol can be contacted at www.carolrossauthor.com (http://www.carolrossauthor.com).
For Dr. Katie, to whom I owe a giant debt of gratitude. Not just for meeting with me and answering all of my crazy questions, but especially for taking such wonderful care of our precious fur-babies for all of these years. Your kindness, compassion and generosity are so inspiring. Thank you.
Contents
Cover (#u8be13487-198b-5b7a-9bb1-fcc33807b42d)
Back Cover Text (#uff44b0f4-a5f3-56ff-acf6-b3d5e4b3c829)
Introduction (#uc2d7c57b-9b9b-558e-9e17-850732283564)
Dear Reader (#udccbf40e-6a56-521b-b540-48fba6e2ec5e)
Title Page (#u25d7e623-53d4-585c-b1c0-d747ec3f45ed)
About the Author (#u1f2b6c82-03d1-5161-828f-c9e8532755bd)
Dedication (#ueaaac82d-9106-5e53-9b45-ad4f8ae93a3b)
CHAPTER ONE (#u317bd507-0a50-5220-9d7c-c3923679e515)
CHAPTER TWO (#u4b516978-2735-58e3-bf19-f2f744928da4)
CHAPTER THREE (#ua7df9b97-33c5-5d88-936e-a620b263963b)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u3e920c91-6939-5571-9ff2-668ebdc09168)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u4f437dd3-4061-5db2-90a3-4635c1b62a1a)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u52ae8b8f-7334-5f9a-a549-93308d726184)
WHOEVER SAID THAT your life flashes before your eyes right before you die must not have gone down in a plane crash. Because all Mia Frasier could think about was the life she hadn’t yet lived. She glanced out the window at the brilliant blue sky and the sparkle of the sun reflecting off the Pacific Ocean below. It seemed wrong somehow to die when it was so gorgeous outside. The plane argued with a wild dip. She gritted her teeth as her stomach mimicked the action.
At this point she supposed some people might close their eyes and sit back, count their blessings, resign themselves to the inevitable, pray, make their peace, or whatever you call it when you give up and accept the inevitable end. Not Mia.
She had plans, things to accomplish before her time was up. Not huge news-making achievements; she didn’t need the Nobel Peace Prize or anything. But she did want to make a difference in this world before she left it. She wanted to save some cats. Lucky Cats, her stray and feral cat reduction program, hadn’t even gotten off the ground yet. And kids. She really wanted a family. A husband was right up there on the list, too. And a home. Not just a house either, but a home like she’d never had. One filled with that husband and kids, a couple dogs, and a bunch of rescued cats... Was this all too much to ask for? She didn’t think so, because as it was she’d barely had a chance to enjoy her life, the life she was finally building in Pacific Cove.
It had only been a few months since Dr. Anthony made her a partner in his already-established veterinary practice. Not only was the position the opportunity of a lifetime and a dream come true, Dr. Anthony needed her. His wife, Sara, and precious daughter, McKenzie, needed her. She couldn’t let him down by dying now. Not to mention all the animals who needed her help. Which reminded her of George. Her rescued bloodhound-mastiff mix could make the promo reel for the prevention of animal abuse. Sure, he was a bit of a handful. His massive size combined with his penchant for eating inedible non-food items made him more like two hands full. She’d only recently convinced him the furniture legs were off-limits. Who would take care of George with both her and her mom gone?
Mom. She loved her mom, Nora, so much. And finally, her mom was living the life she deserved, too. Doing all the things she hadn’t been able to do when Mia’s dad was alive. She glanced over at the seat next to her where her mom was gazing tranquilly out the side window as if they were on a sightseeing jaunt and not plummeting to their deaths. Even when Captain Shear had told them to make sure their seat belts were fastened good and tight, her mom had remained calm. Typical Nora Frasier: cheerful in the face of any adversity. Not even death scared her. Mia was pretty sure there wasn’t anything the woman was afraid of.
Her mom must have sensed her fear, though, because she turned her head at that moment. Reaching for Mia’s hand, she said, “I love you, honey.” She couldn’t really hear the words over the rumble and desperate sputtering of the plane’s engine, but as she’d heard them from her mother nearly every day of her life, she knew the words when she saw them crossing her lips. They were finally together and living in the same town with no plans to ever move again. She’d thought that would mean years and years of being happy and settled. Mia felt a fresh wave of panic; they needed more time.
“I love you, too, Mom,” she called out, managing a shaky smile as she proceeded to watch the final seconds of her paltry existence on this planet pass by the tiny airplane window.
She braced herself as the plane hit the surface of the ocean with a thunderous crash. Her body lurched forward, then back and sideways, her head smacking against the side window with a loud crack. Cool air rushed in around her. Not at all like the smooth-as-glass lakes she’d landed on in her previous floatplane experiences.
Of course, this wasn’t a floatplane or a lake. A fact she was immediately reminded of as the ocean proceeded to assault the little plane. Wave after wave rolled into them, some battering the cabin and leaving the windows covered with drips of seawater and bits of foam. The fuselage groaned in response. Water was seeping in through the cracked window beside her. Droplets ran down her forehead, which struck her as odd because there didn’t seem to be that much water getting inside. She reached up and swiped it away. Blood. A quick probing told her the wound was barely more than a scratch. No other injuries that she could feel or see.
And she was alive. Alive! As in not dead. Hope roared to life inside her.
“Mom!” she cried. “We’re alive.” She turned to find her mom slumped over in her seat. “Oh, please no...”
She shouted this time, “Mom?” No response. Terror flamed inside her again as she unbuckled her seat belt with shaking hands. Crouching between the seats, she felt her mom’s wrist for a pulse—weak, but there. She couldn’t see any visible signs of trauma, but as a doctor herself, she knew that often the worst injuries were the ones you couldn’t immediately recognize.
She realized then that she’d been expecting the pilot to turn and say something, give them some kind of instructions, until she realized there was no movement from the cockpit, either. Did you call it a cockpit in a plane this small? As the plane pitched and rolled violently in the waves, she stumbled her way to the pilot’s seat, praying he’d survived the impact. She reached over and searched for a pulse on his neck. Strong. Good. There was a lot of blood, though. She spotted a laceration on his forehead. Head wounds bleed a lot, so that could explain it. A soft moan escaped his lips when she touched the area to examine it. Even better.
Dropping to her hands and knees, she crawled toward the side of the plane to the emergency compartment. Even though he’d only carried two passengers this morning, Captain Shear hadn’t neglected to give them a preflight safety chat. Hard to believe it had only been a few short hours since they’d taken off from Pacific Cove that morning. They’d flown up the coast to tiny Windsor Island in Washington’s Puget Sound, where Mia had helped a pregnant mare in distress deliver a healthy foal. They’d only been a few miles from home when the plane’s engine stalled and then continued to falter. Within seconds, Captain Shear had placed the Mayday call that they were going down.
Along with the first-aid kit and life jackets, she was relieved to find an inflatable raft. Slipping a life jacket on, she set two others aside. As she gathered what supplies she needed, she tried to figure out how she was going to load two unconscious people into a life raft. Because surely the plane would begin sinking soon? It was already tilting to one side. There was no way she was going to be able to stabilize any spines; she’d have to take her chances. Using a gauze pad, she wiped at her head and slapped a large bandage on it. She wasn’t concerned about the wound, but she needed to keep the blood from dripping into her eyes so she could see and then somehow get them all out of here. No way was she going to survive a plane crash only to drown in this freezing cold ocean. Fate had given her this chance and she wasn’t going to waste it.
On her way back to the captain, she stopped to check her mom’s pulse again. No change. By the time she got back to Captain Shear he was coming around, mumbling incoherently.
“Captain Shear? Russell? Can you hear me?”
Holding a sterile pad to his head to slow the bleeding, she continued talking to him.
“We’re alive.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, but Mia was relieved by the sound.
“Yes! We are, thanks to your excellent piloting skills.”
“How’s Nora?”
“She’s alive but unconscious.” She had already liked what she knew of this man, but his questioning the condition of his passengers while in his current state solidified those feelings and then some.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine. Tiny cut on my head.” She managed a small smile as she wrapped his head wound and secured it with some tape.
“How am I?” He winced as he asked, and she could tell he was in serious pain.
“My earlier cursory exam suggested you have a broken clavicle and arm, and possibly a fractured leg.”
“That’s why I can’t move it. I was afraid I was paralyzed.”
“That’s right,” she said, although she had no idea if it was the truth. She didn’t know if he was talking about his arm or leg, and she didn’t ask. The fact was, he could be paralyzed, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that.
He tipped his chin up, eyes focused on the ceiling. “I hear them. Do you hear that?”
Oh no, she thought, was she losing him? “What do you hear, Captain?”
“It’s all good.” His lips curved up into a smile as his head lolled to one side. “We’ll be fine now. We’ll all be fine...” His lashes drooped to cover his eyes, but the remnants of his smile lingered.
Mia went still, holding her breath and concentrating on the sounds around her. She couldn’t hear anything but the incessant pounding of the ocean’s waves against the plane, the groaning and grinding sound of twisted metal. Terror made her heart race. Maybe he’d hit his head harder than she knew... She reached out to check his pulse again.
His eyelids popped open. “I’m not losing my marbles, Dr. Frasier.” He added a chuckle. “Coast Guard helicopter. Go check on your mom. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”
* * *
PETTY OFFICER JAY JOHNSTON of Coast Guard Air Station Astoria was elbow-deep in a pile of chopped onions when the emergency call came in. Making chili wasn’t part of a flight mechanic’s normal duties, but it had sort of become one of his. His upbringing had ensured that he knew how to cook for a crowd and on a budget, which is how he often ended up here in the kitchen. An earlier transmission from an airplane en route to Pacific Cove had reported engine trouble. The second and last communication had just confirmed that the plane was going down.
Abandoning the chili pot, he hurried into his flight suit, grabbed his gear and ran to the Jayhawk helicopter. He was the first one there, but his teammate and friend Aubrey Wynn, the rescue swimmer on duty, was close behind him. Seconds later they were joined by Lieutenant Commander Holmes, the pilot, and Lieutenant Reeves, the copilot.
Within minutes the team was taking off, heading toward the last known coordinates for the plane. They discussed the possible locations of the fuselage.
“I know Captain Shear,” Jay said when he learned who was piloting the small fixed-wing aircraft. “Great guy. He was in the Air Force. Flew small planes and floatplanes for years in the Alaskan bush. He has skills. There’s a very strong chance he managed to land it in one piece. I think the plane could be floating down there.”
Lieutenant Commander Holmes was unsure. “There was so little time from the Mayday to the loss of communication. The chances of him managing a water landing are slim...”
On it went.
Jay glanced over at Aubrey, who was staring straight ahead. Her lips were moving, but no sound emerged, and he knew she was silently singing the words to Aretha Franklin’s “Respect” over and over again. It was part of her ritual and hey, who was he to question the methods of the best rescue swimmer he’d ever had the pleasure of working beside? Jay felt confident that if there were survivors in the ocean, this crew would bring them safely on board.
As the flight mechanic, operating the hoist to lower the rescue swimmer into the water was part of his job. After locating the accident site, the RS would be attached to a cable whereupon he, along with the precision flying skills of the pilot, would lower the RS into the water or onto a ship as quickly and efficiently as possible. Sometimes the target could be as small as a few square feet. Barely enough room for a person meant there was no room for error. Jay knew he was good at his job, but that didn’t stop the rush of adrenaline before every rescue. Lives were on the line—literally.
The voice of the copilot, Reeves, broke into his thoughts. “There it is!”
