Summer at the Shore
Author
Carol Ross
Reads
18.5K
Chapters
21
Chapter One
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!”
His gaze locked onto the location. The plane was floating on the surface like he’d hoped. Jay smiled. If anyone was alive inside, and he felt the possibility was strong, this could make the rescue go much more smoothly.
“Jay, what do you think?” Aubrey asked. “As close as you can on the starboard side?”
“Yes.” They went over the maneuver while he prepared the cable. Aubrey removed her ICS, or onboard communications, while he slid open the door of the helo. At this point, they would rely on hand signals until she’d boarded the aircraft below. She positioned herself on the edge and within seconds he signaled to her with a tap on the chest.
Indicating she was good to go, he released the cable, hoisting her down into the ocean. He never took his eyes off her as she unhooked the cable from her harness and flashed the “swimmer away” signal. He retrieved the cable as she swam the short distance to the plane. She climbed inside while he and the rest of the crew waited for her assessment.
A short time later the communication line crackled and her voice came through: “Three survivors. One is in good shape, the other two are injured and incapacitated. I’m sending up the survivor without injury first.”
A voice sounded in the background, loud and agitated. Jay was always amazed at both the bravery and cowardice that emerged from people in the midst of life-and-death situations. He’d seen the burliest, toughest-looking men cry like babies and demand to go first, while the most fragile of women refused to be taken until everyone else was gone. He’d seen men insist that their dogs be rescued before them, while he’d witnessed others charge forward ahead of their own children.
He wondered which case they were dealing with now.
* * *
MIA APPRECIATED THE rescue swimmer’s confidence and take-charge demeanor. After climbing into the plane, she introduced herself, assessed the condition of each of them, talking to both her and Captain Shear the entire time. “Once the water reaches a certain level, the plane is going to start sinking faster. I’m calling my crew now to let them know how we’re going to proceed.” She clicked on the radio and outlined her plan, which Mia was fine with until she heard her say she was sending Mia up first.
“No!” Mia shouted. “I can’t go first. Take my mom and Captain Shear. They need medical attention. My mom is unconscious and—”
“Mia!” Aubrey interrupted firmly. “I understand your opinion. I am aware of her condition. However, if the plane starts to sink then I’ll essentially have to do three difficult rescues. Right now I have one simple rescue and two that are more challenging. We will save you all, but please don’t make my job any more difficult.”
“Oh... Right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I know you’re worried,” Aubrey assured her as she checked and tightened the straps on Mia’s life jacket. “Your mom will go up right after you.” She made her way to the door as Mia followed.
“The water is going to be really cold. Don’t worry about swimming. Relax and float. I’ll get us into position and then I’ll signal to the helicopter. They will lower a basket, I’ll help you get in and you’ll be up in the helo in a couple minutes.”
“Okay,” she said. She wasn’t worried about the water. Her dad had been an officer in the Navy and made sure she and her brother were strong swimmers. Aubrey jumped into the water and motioned for her to do the same. Mia followed, but despite her confidence and Aubrey’s warning, the cold hit her like an electric shock. Because of the life jacket, she surfaced quickly but found that she was unable to inhale a breath. She felt as if she’d been flash-frozen and her lungs shrink-wrapped in the process.
She could hear Aubrey but all she could think about was air. Gasping and croaking, it seemed an eternity before the tension in her chest finally loosened enough to inhale. Unfortunately, the feeling didn’t last; she sucked in a deep breath at the exact moment a wave rolled over her. Water invaded her lungs. Panic took hold as she thrashed around trying to figure out which way was up until finally, she realized she was floating. I’d be dead without this flotation device, she thought, coughing violently as she tried to calm down. This was so much more difficult than she’d anticipated. She thought about her brother, Kyle, who was a Navy SEAL. How did people do this? Why would they want to? But then suddenly, thankfully, Aubrey was right next to her.
“Lie back,” she instructed. She did as she was told while Aubrey took a hold of her and propelled them away from the plane.
A large metal basket hit the water in front of them.
“Let’s get you inside,” Aubrey shouted in order to be heard above the scream of the helicopter, which had moved closer and was now hovering much lower in the sky above them. The powerful force of the rotor wash took her breath away. Again.
As Aubrey helped her into the basket, she wondered how in the world this woman was going to manage to get her unconscious mother and a seriously injured Captain Shear into it? She didn’t have time to ask. Huddling into a ball as instructed, she closed her eyes as the basket lifted. Fear surged through her as cold air rushed in around her.
Next thing she knew, she was being pulled inside the helicopter. A man in an orange flight suit helped her out of the basket and told her his name was Jay. As he got her seated and dried her with a towel, he asked her name and how she was doing. He pointed at her head. Then warm fingers peeled away the bandage she’d applied.
His voice was calm and deep as he asked, “Any other injuries besides this one? That you’re aware of?”
She shook her head, trying to answer through the shivers racking her body, but was pretty sure she was incomprehensible.
He looked her over thoroughly. “This should do for now,” he said, smoothing a fresh dressing into place. He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Keeping one edge in each hand, he held it tight around her. “Hey,” he said, shaking it gently until she looked up. His face only inches away now, earnest hazel-green eyes locked onto hers. “We got this, okay?”
For a few seconds, she stared back, frozen with fear. The sob she’d been keeping at bay welled up, taking her by surprise. “My mom...” was all she could manage to mutter.
“Your mom is down there?”
She nodded, hot tears burning the cold flesh of her cheeks.
“Not for long. Aubrey is the best rescue swimmer in the Coast Guard. And I’m the best hoist operator. We’ve also got the best pilot and copilot working with us today. Which makes us the dream team of Coast Guard rescue.” He reached out and squeezed her cold fingers. “Mia, look at me.” She did. How could anyone refuse that gentle yet commanding voice? He seemed to ooze confidence. “I promise we will get your mom out of that airplane and we will do everything we can.” A warm feeling she recognized as hope bubbled inside her. He added an encouraging smile. She gave him another nod and he moved back toward the open door of the helicopter.
Oddly enough, his words helped. Mia noticed and appreciated that he didn’t promise that her mom would be fine. It was the same strategy she used with her patients’ families. You could never guarantee that a patient would be okay, but you could promise that you would do everything in your power to try to make it so.
He arranged the basket in the doorway, studying the scene below, his lips moving again. Even though she couldn’t hear what he was saying over the noise of the helicopter’s motor, both the concentration and competence he displayed managed to keep her calm.
After positioning the basket, he slid it out the open door. It disappeared, but within minutes it appeared again, her mom tucked safely inside. Please, please let her be alive. He easily lifted her mom’s petite form, arranging her on the litter he’d already prepared and covering her with a blanket. Looking up as Mia started to move forward, he gave her a quick thumbs-up before discouraging further movement from her with a palm up and out. Mia nodded, expelling a breath of relief as she sank back in her seat. She wanted to see for herself, but she also didn’t want to get in the way.
It wasn’t long before Captain Shear and the rescue swimmer Aubrey were on board as well. Aubrey examined the captain while Jay inserted an IV into her mom’s arm. He checked her vitals again and then Mia watched, transfixed as he sat beside her unconscious mom, holding her hand and smoothing the hair away from her face. Within minutes they were safely on the landing pad of the hospital’s roof. Mia was positive that she’d never been so grateful for another human being’s kindness in her entire life.
