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At least this incarnation of Lassie was someone to talk to.
‘I’m not sure that this was such a good idea,’ she told him. ‘I’m going to have to crawl sideways to reach that next tree. Do you reckon it’s got strong roots?’
Harry the dog seemed to think so.
She had to cling to the next rock for a minute, to get over the fright of her foot slipping a little in the scree. She didn’t look down. Instead, she looked up at the black head that was getting smaller every time she looked.
‘What you don’t know,’ she said casually, ‘is that until very recently I was wearing a pretty hard-core brace on my leg. Because I had a rock that landed on it a while back and it was so squashed they almost had to chop it off. Yeah... I know dogs can manage quite well without one of their legs but it’s a bit more of a problem for a person.’
The sound of the waves was getting louder and Harriet knew perfectly well that the dog couldn’t hear what she was saying and wouldn’t understand if he could but it seemed to be helping her.
‘But look at me right now... It almost feels like I’m back in the SDR team and I don’t mind telling you that that’s the thing I miss the most about my old life.’
Except that if this was a team callout, she’d be appropriately dressed in heavy-duty overalls and with a hard hat and gloves for more protection. And she’d be on the end of a rope with people who knew what they were doing holding the other end to prevent a fall that would have meant two victims instead of only one.
If she’d done anything this irresponsible as a team member, their leader, Blake Cooper, would have probably sacked her, and Kate and Sam would have been watching her with horror. But she wasn’t a team member any more and she never could be, with the disability that was highly likely to be permanent now. A weak leg. Pain levels that could be hard to manage. A mindset that was very different from the passionate and adventurous person she’d been all those months ago.
Maybe she was going to get stuck herself and the rescue crew would have to winch two people off this cliff and she’d cop an awful lot of flak. But...
But the fact that she was even trying to do this—that she wanted to do this so much—made her feel like the real Harriet Collins had finally stepped out from the black mist she’d been shrouded in for so long.
And she was more than halfway down now. That ledge was starting to look bigger and hiding the terrifying drop below it. Another controlled slide on her bottom, a careful climb over a tumble of rocks without trusting her weight to her bad leg and then a downward, sideways crawl and she could almost stand up to push her way past rough bunches of tussock and through the stunted trees onto the ledge.
Harry’s owner was probably in his sixties, his grey hair matted with a stain of blood and a badly bruised and grazed arm. And he was groaning.
‘Hey...’ Harriet crouched beside him, picking up his hand and then feeling for his pulse. ‘My name’s Harry. Same as your dog...’
The man’s eyes opened. ‘Harry...’
‘He’s fine. He’s up on top of the cliff. He came to find me and get help for you. Just like Lassie.’
The man’s eyes closed but his lips twisted into a smile. ‘Not so much. It was Harry who went over the edge. Got...stuck on a rock and I went down to help. I lost my footing and...argh...that really hurts...’
‘Your leg? Or is it something else?’
‘My leg...and...and my head doesn’t feel great.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Eddie. Eddie Denton.’
‘Okay, Eddie. Take a deep breath for me. Does that hurt?’
‘No. Feels okay...’
‘That’s great. We don’t need to worry about your breathing then. And you’ve got a good pulse so that means your blood pressure’s still okay.’
‘You a doctor, Harry?’
‘No, I’m a nurse. I worked in the Intensive Care Unit at Bondi Bayside, although I’m somewhere else at the moment. But I’m also a member of a specialist rescue team there.’
She was checking Eddie out as she kept talking. ‘I’m just going to have a feel of your tummy, okay? Does that hurt?’
‘No. It’s just my leg.’
The pain from an obvious femoral fracture could well be masking something happening internally but there was nothing Harriet could do other than keep Eddie company and make sure he didn’t move and fall further. There was no time to do anything else, anyway. She could see the dot of the approaching helicopter now and only seconds later the sound of the rotors drowned out the faint barking she could still hear from the top of the cliff.
This was one of the bright red and yellow helicopters of the ambulance service here in Sydney and the crew member she could see leaning out from the skid and preparing to be winched down would be one of the elite, intensive care paramedics that dealt with calls like this. It was a relief to see the big pack of gear being attached to the winch line along with a stretcher but she expected nothing less from a team who were well used to dealing with emergencies on the shorelines of this huge coastal city.
What she would never have expected was to be addressed as if this paramedic knew her.
‘Harry? How did you end up on this ledge?’ He pushed up the visor of his helmet as he unhooked the gear and then held the winch line clear, giving the winch operator the ‘thumbs up’ sign to retrieve the hook. ‘I thought the job had been called in from up at the track.’
‘Oh, my God...’ Harriet’s jaw dropped. ‘When did you start working on the choppers, Jack?’
‘Months ago.’ His tone was clipped. Cold, even? ‘Fill me in, Harry.’
‘This is Eddie Denton. He’s sixty-three. He slipped and fell after trying to get his dog out of trouble.’
There was a nagging voice at the back of her head telling her that she deserved the brush-off. How many times had she done that to Jack after the accident, when he’d tried to visit her?
But not being part of the team any more had made it too painful to be reminded of how devastating the loss of this part of her life had been. And he’d given up eventually, just the way everybody else had stopped talking about it. Harriet couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d heard Jack’s name mentioned.
‘Hiya, Eddie. I’m Jack Evans. I’ve come to get you out of here, mate. How are you feeling?’
‘Gotta sore leg.’
‘Fractured mid-shaft femur,’ Harriet put in. ‘Limb baselines are intact.’
‘Anything else I should know about?’
‘Head injury. I’m pretty sure he was unconscious when I arrived on scene and he’s been complaining about a headache.’
‘And that arm?’
‘I don’t think it’s fractured but it’s badly bruised and there’s a fair bit of skin missing. Blood loss was minimal as far as I can tell.’
It could have been worse. If Eddie had been bleeding badly, she could have stopped that. Did that justify her putting herself in so much danger and giving the rescue crew another person to manage? She hadn’t really thought about the consequences when she’d started that climb down, had she?
Instinct had overridden sense.
Or maybe it was because she hadn’t been able to resist the pull of being that person again. The one that did the dangerous stuff because she could potentially save a life.
‘Can you find some dressings in that pack? I’d like to get an IV in and some pain relief on board before we get a traction splint on that leg.’
It wasn’t just Eddie who had a sore leg. The jolt of pain as Harriet moved to open Jack’s pack was almost enough to make her stumble. Maybe it was a good thing that they were on a relatively narrow ledge above a dangerous drop so it was a perfectly normal thing to do to crawl carefully from one point to another.
Jack wouldn’t have even noticed.
‘You okay, Harry?’
The swift glance from those dark eyes and the furrow between them told Harriet that he’d noticed her wincing, all right. She broke the eye contact abruptly. She didn’t want anybody’s pity but to be pitied by Jack was worse, somehow. He was one of the younger members of the SDR team and one of the best. He was going places, young Jack Evans, but he wasn’t cocky about it. He was, in fact, one of the nicest people Harriet had ever known.
In her old life...
‘Be careful,’ was all Jack added. ‘We’re a long way up. Hand me that IV roll, would you?’
She handed over the roll that contained everything Jack needed to insert an IV. The wipes, cannulas, Luer plugs, flushes and adhesive covers. She didn’t need reminding of how far above sea level they were. Every few seconds, even given the sound of the helicopter hovering nearby, she could hear the rolling crash of a huge wave below.
‘Sharp scratch, Eddie. There you go... Are you allergic to anything that you know of?’
‘Nah...not that I know of.’
Harriet had all the sterile dressings and a bandage in her hands so that she could cover the raw wounds on Eddie’s arm but she stayed by the pack for a moment longer. Jack was going to need a giving set and a bag of saline to set up fluids that would keep Eddie’s vein open in case he needed more intravenous drugs. The morphine would definitely be helping his pain level within the next few minutes.
‘What score would you give your pain now, Eddie? Out of ten, like before?’
‘I reckon it’s only a five now. Maybe even a four.’
‘Good man. We’re going to get that splint on your leg in a tick. And then I’m going to get you up into our nice comfy chopper.’
‘But what about Harry?’
‘We’ll take her, too, don’t you worry. I’m not about to let her try climbing up this cliff by herself. God knows how she managed to get down to you in the first place.’ Jack was waiting for Harriet to look up as she snagged the bandage she’d wound around Eddie’s arm with a crocodile clip to keep it secure. ‘Good job,’ he added as he finally caught her gaze.
He sounded impressed. And not the least bit cold. Quite the opposite, in fact.
‘No.’ Eddie shook his head. ‘I meant Harry—my dog...’
‘Oh...right...’
‘He’s a hero,’ Harriet said. ‘I wouldn’t have found Eddie if it hadn’t been for Harry. He came and got me and made me follow him.’
Jack grinned. ‘Like Lassie, huh?’
Harriet found herself smiling back. ‘Just like Lassie.’
The shared smile broke whatever odd tension she had been aware of ever since Jack had touched down on this ledge. It was a link back to the very real friendship they’d shared during their time together with the SDR team. A friendship that Harriet couldn’t deny she’d shunned since her accident because it was such an integral aspect of the part of the life she’d lost for ever.
But maybe there was a way back? To a small part of what she’d lost, anyway.
And that felt good.
‘In that case, I’ll call the crew.’ Jack nodded, reaching for his radio. ‘We’ll get someone to head up the track and find him. Don’t you worry, Eddie. He’ll be well looked after until we can get him home for you.’
Whether it was the relief of knowing his pet would be rescued, or the effects of the narcotic pain relief, Eddie seemed to relax into the care they were giving him. It was painful to get the traction splint locked into place and doing its job but, for this kind of fracture, it was essential to get control of any internal bleeding and added pain of the movement that would be happening very soon.
‘I’ll take Eddie up on the stretcher and then I’ll come back down for you and the pack.’ Jack raised his arm to signal the crew in the hovering helicopter that he was ready for the winch line to be lowered again. ‘Okay?’
Harriet nodded.
For several long minutes, she was alone on the ledge, watching Jack control the swinging of the stretcher Eddie was strapped onto as it was lifted skywards. And then she saw it being tipped and dragged into the cabin of the helicopter. It seemed to take a long time until Jack was standing on the skid again, ready for his second descent, but she watched him coming down with an increasing sense of relief.
There was no way she could have climbed back up that cliff.
It was no wonder that Jack had been impressed that she’d managed it at all. The last time he’d seen her, her leg had been skewered with long pins and encased in the rods of external fixation for a fracture that had been bad enough for her to have had to give consent to amputation if that had been deemed the best option during her surgery.
He’d been so determinedly cheerful, she remembered. He’d brought a brand of chocolate she’d once announced was her all-time favourite and some magazines, but the choice had been unfortunate, including the latest edition of an emergency medicine journal. And, okay, maybe that publication had also previously been favourite reading material but it had been the last thing she’d wanted to see then.
The visit had been awkward. What did they have in common other than the team callouts, training sessions and rare social occasions? Jack was a good six years younger than Harriet. Just a mate.
At least he hadn’t been around to see her limping return to work at Bondi Bayside. If he was with the helicopter crew he wouldn’t even be spending time in the emergency department, although he might still make an occasional visit to the intensive care unit if he wanted to follow up on a patient. Not that Harriet was working there any more—not when that environment needed people who could be quick on their feet when needed and in no danger from being distracted by pain or fatigue.
An echo of the awkwardness that had only increased between them until Jack didn’t come to visit her any more reared its head as he arrived back on the ledge and helped Harriet into the ‘nappy’ harness that would hold her close to his body as they were winched back into the helicopter. Maybe it was a good thing that it was noisy and scary and there was no need to say anything other than to confirm she understood all the instructions.
The scariest part was when her feet lost contact with the relative safety of that ledge and she was dangling in mid-air, with the rocks of the cliff looking alarmingly close and the roiling surf a terrifying drop below.
Oddly, she felt safe at the same time.
Jack was big. Tall and muscly. Not with the kind of muscles that her ex-boyfriend Pete had nurtured in his gym sessions, though. Just like his looks were a complete contrast to the sun-streaked, surfer vibe that had attracted her to Pete in the first place. It felt like Jack had just been born that way, and maybe he had. The young paramedic had island heritage—Maori or Samoan—with the dark eyes and black hair that went with his olive skin. He had the gentleness that could come as such a pleasant surprise in a big man but he also had strength and that was what Harriet could feel surrounding her now as they rose slowly in this vast sky.
How long had it been since she’d felt a man’s arms around her like this? Making her feeling safe. Cherished, almost.
Maybe that foolhardy challenge of climbing down that cliff had been worth it.
Just for this...
CHAPTER TWO (#u1567b91c-0c56-51ee-96d2-ba4344b41659)
FUNNY HOW MANY thoughts could flash through your brain when you were dangling in mid-air. Even when most of your concentration was so focused on keeping both yourself and the person you were holding safe.
But the thoughts were there. Drifting past like fragments of a half-forgotten dream.
Because he had dreamed of this. Once upon a time.
Holding Harriet Collins in his arms...
Part of his soul had recognised her as the perfect woman the first time he’d met her, back when they had both been new and on their very first training session for the SDR team. Everything about her had been fascinating. Those shiny, auburn curls that bounced when she moved her head. The cute freckles that dusted her milky skin. Hazel eyes with the sparkle of sheer joie de vivre. That easy smile and the contagious gurgle of her laughter. How nice she was. Warm and open and friendly.
It had taken a long time to screw up the courage to ask her out on a date. He’d had to fight the doubts about how unlikely it was that she could be as interested in him. She was years older than he was. Older and wiser and with a circle of friends that were part of a very different world but the attraction was so strong, he’d had to try.
The sheer delight that she seemed to think it was a great idea had been short-lived. She’d seen it as no more than a mate suggesting a team outing, in fact, because she’d shared the invitation with those around them, including the new guy who’d just joined the team—a good-looking firie by the name of Pete Thompson.
And it had been that very night—that had been supposed to be his first date with Harriet—that the spark had been ignited between her and Pete. Jack had felt every jolt of electricity that had passed between them and every one of them had been tipped with the flame of rejection. Of not being good enough. Of not having the kind of charisma that blokes like Pete Thompson had. He knew that that charisma often came with a price. That they were often shallow, egotistical people.
But there’d been nothing that he could do, other than watch it happen. And accelerate. And he’d got over it. So Harriet wasn’t for him? It didn’t matter. They were still friends and he’d find someone else who made him feel this way—without those doubts that he’d made the mistake of ignoring. One of these days, he would experience that ‘falling in love’ business. Preferably with someone that he knew he would want to spend the rest of his life with.
Someone like Harriet Collins maybe, but with some island blood so that she could embrace being part of an extended family that could sometimes smother you with the responsibilities of belonging but would never tolerate being shut out of any dark times in your life.
