Page 48

SAM

S am inspected the horizon as his team made their way down the long dirt road to the river. They still had about three hours of light, one of the few pluses of long Alaska days. Extra daylight hours meant more time to safely plan and execute a rescue.

The river, which stretched from the Alaska Range past Anchorage, froze over by November each year.

Then the ice would break up between April and May for the summer.

Since it was one of Alaska’s premier sport-fishing streams, many people didn’t wait for all the ice to melt, and even fewer had any idea how fast the water moved beneath the ice or how quickly the water could rise …

until they were fighting for their lives.

In the past, he’d seen the water rise five feet in less than two hours.

On one rescue, the river had been raging so fiercely in spots that it had actually been running backward.

Inevitably, on days like today, though, when the sky was clear and the temperature reached into the fifties, Sam could count on a rescue call.

According to the Alaska State Trooper SAR coordinator, a boat had capsized, and the two would-be fishermen were stranded in the middle of the swift-moving water.

Lucky for the men, there were enough residents on the river that someone had seen the boat capsize and had called it in.

Sam and Alex parked their trucks as close to the river as was safe. Erik and Daire had ridden to the bar with Alex, so they only had two emergency vehicles with them, Sam’s and Alex’s. Each vehicle was stocked with gear for four rescuers, though, as they often traveled together to calls.

Even though Vince knew he couldn’t be involved with the actual rescue, he’d hopped into Sam’s truck. Now the two of them worked together to set up the equipment. Vince plugged in the air compressor and connected the line to the life raft while Sam pulled on his cold-water gear and life vest.

Outfitted, Sam grabbed a safety line and picked up the back of the inflatable raft. “Daire, you’re with me!”

Already clad in a cold-water suit and life vest, Daire charged over, not asking any questions as he picked up the front. Together, the two lifted the raft and headed to the river.

Alex and Erik headed downstream, below the marooned fishermen. They worked together to secure a line across the river as Sam and Daire entered above the beached — or rather, rocked — men.

One of the men was lying spread-eagle on a massive boulder in the middle of the river as arctic water and chunks of ice rushed by him.

At least he’d been smart enough not to try to swim to the side.

The other man was in the river, hanging onto a grouping of rocks as the surging water sloshed his face.

He was holding himself up, but just barely.

One wrong move and he could get his foot stuck under a rock, and then the weight of the water would pin him beneath the surface.

There simply wasn’t any way to fight it.

The closer Sam and Daire got, the more panic-stricken the man in the water became. “I can’t hold on much longer!” he spluttered, coughing as he took in a mouthful of water.

“Get my friend first!” bellowed the man on the rock.

Sam had planned to rescue the man who was practically drowning first, of course, but he nodded to the man who was stretched out on the rock to let him know they intended to save his friend.

Sam used the jet outboard to position the rescue sled in front of the immersed man.

The last thing he wanted was some frantic rescuee pulling Daire into the water.

Although Alex and Erik were set up downstream, with the safety line strung across the wide river, there were too many large chunks of ice.

Too great a chance of being carried beneath one.

The nearly drowned man was wearing a cold-weather suit but not a life vest. Idiot! When would people ever learn? Nowadays, they made thin, barely-there vests that opened the moment you hit the water. Why anyone would go out on water like this without a life jacket was beyond him.

“It’s okay. We got you, man,” Daire said in a calm voice. “Let go of the rock with one hand and climb onto the sled.” The kid was a natural. Sam had always known that; he’d just wanted more for him.

“I … can’t! I’ll … slip.” The man took in another mouthful of the rushing water, choking as he talked about what he couldn’t do, instead of doing something to help himself. “If I let go … I’ll … drown.”

“If you don’t climb,” Sam barked, “you will drown. We ain’t jumping in after you.

” While his brothers had teased Sam about being grouchy, that wasn’t why he was shouting at the fisherman.

He’d discovered water rescues could be the most dangerous.

People freaked, then pulled you in. When a calm request didn’t work, he’d learned that being forceful was the only way. He didn’t have time to screw around.

If the guy had worn a damn vest, Daire could have dredged him out of the water by the straps. Thankfully Daire knew better than to offer a drowning person a hand.

“Come on, man,” Daire coaxed. “The raft is right beside you. Just grab it with one hand. I won’t let you fall!”

Sam was proud of Daire; he was doing precisely what he should. Once the man latched onto the sled, Daire would pull him up the rest of the way if need be. Even though he was young, Daire had upper-body strength from all the whitewater kayaking and rock climbing he did.

The man shook his head, gulping in more water. “I … can’t … hold on … anymore.” His hands slipped from the rock. Instead of grabbing the sled, he tried to reach for the rock again. He couldn’t gain purchase as the water rushed around him. Then there was no rock left to grab.

Sam backed away from the rock garden, ready to move downstream. The guys had the line across the river so the fisherman could grab it. Sam noticed Daire had moved to a crouch, ready to jump. “Daire! Don’t you even think about —” Too late. The damn boy launched himself from the boat.

Within a few strokes, Daire grabbed the man from behind, wrapping his left arm around the guy’s neck.

Daire hooked a carabiner to the line across the river, and Erik immediately dropped his end of the rope so the water would push Daire to the shoreline.

Alex held onto the line as Daire pulled the idiot without a life vest into shallow water.

Scratch that. Two idiots were now crawling up on shore.

Sam motored downstream. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he growled, wanting to propel the raft up on land so he could smack the living daylights out of Daire.

But he had to help the man stranded on the boulder.

Fuming, Sam motored back upstream. “No crap from you, man. You got less than ten seconds to make your way off that rock and onto the sled. You hear me?”

The man nodded and edged his way off the boulder and onto the raft. The moment he was aboard, Sam powered across the river, back to the shore.

The moment Sam was on land, he pulled the raft to the truck, allowing his brothers to tend to the fishermen. He needed to get out of there before he said something he’d regret.

“Sam …” Daire said behind him, his inflection clear that he was going to apologize.

Sam whirled on him, ready to explode, then nearly bit off his tongue as he curbed a string of obscenities. “Not here!”

“I had to go after him, Sam,” Daire shouted above the rushing water. “The man wouldn’t have been able to hold onto the line. He would have slipped under the ice.”

Sam’s face burned. He charged forward, grabbing Daire by the shoulders. “You could have died. You want me to treat you like a man, but that was an immature move.”

Daire lifted his chin. “I saved him.”

“I’m not discussing this any further here. We’ll talk about it at home.”

“I won’t be home tonight. It’s my birthday, remember?” Daire threw up his hands then headed back to Alex’s truck.

Vince patted Sam on the shoulder. “Sam —”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Sam ran his hands through his hair. “Sorry, Vince. I just need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. Hell, I need to get away from everything.”

* * *

Sam slammed into the house and charged up the stairs to the room he’d had his entire life.

Yeah, he sometimes felt like a loser because he still lived in the family home, which was the other reason he hadn’t had sex in longer than he could remember.

But it wouldn’t have been right to leave his mother to raise his son on her own. Not after his father’s death.

Before that, Sam had carried on with his high-octane, no-worries lifestyle, as though Daire was the baby brother his parents had always claimed he was.

After his father’s death, Daire had started acting out.

Truly, Daire hadn’t done much more than the rest of his brothers — or Sam for that matter.

But it was too much for his widowed mother.

Sam hadn’t just taken over the business; he’d also taken over as head of household.

“Sam …” His mother tapped on the door. “You okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. No, he wasn’t okay. But he didn’t feel like talking about it. She’d say the same thing: Tell him . But he knew Daire wasn’t ready to hear the truth. Not yet. “I’m fine.”

“Samuel Thomas Belgarde, I happen to know everything about you.”

Since she couldn’t see him, he rolled his eyes. “Go ask your favorite son what’s wrong. Maybe you can talk some sense into that boy. God knows I can’t.”

“I’m asking my favorite son.”

Sam opened the door and leaned against the frame. He sighed, feeling like he might collapse at any second. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that boy.”

“He’s no longer a boy, Sam.” His mother brushed by him and sat down on the edge of the bed. She motioned a hand toward his chair.