doesn’t have gloves on.
Somewhere along the way she’d taken them off—to work the IV and draw up drugs, probably. And hadn’t had the chance to put them back on. Her fingers were white—with strain? With cold?
That was all he needed. Frostbite.
Frostbite. The enemy of the winter hiker. Could do untold damage from the inside out.
The dread swamped him along with the memories. He wasn’t going to let that happen. They were getting off this mountain without any further incident. Stooping low, he gripped harder and tried to take more of the weight. It was impossible without upending the whole thing. Regardless of how strong she thought she was, she was starting to tire—steps becoming slower as she navigated the rocks. She needed to rest without losing face, he got that. ‘Stop. Stop, Abbie. I need a minute.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ Very gently she lowered her end of the scoop then straightened up, twisting slowly left and right to ease out her muscles. Her hands were still in crooked fists and even from this distance he could see red marks on her palms. More blood?
‘Brian! Brian, come here and take over.’ They were about fifty metres from the chopper. Shane was sitting slumped against the landing gear holding his shoulder. ‘You go down and take over from Brian and he can come and help me with this.’
‘I can do this.’
He kept his voice level despite his growing frustration. ‘And I’m telling you not to. Your hands are cut and cold and there’s no need for you to lift anything if we can get Brian to do it. I need you down there to sort out Shane. He’s not looking happy. Brian’s just a pilot—he can’t assess anything. I need your nursing skills and his muscle.’
‘Okay. I’m gone.’
He was impressed with the agility and speed with which she made it to Shane, crossing paths with Brian and stopping for the briefest of handovers.
He watched as she tripped lightly over the rocks, that jacket swamping her tiny frame. She had guts, that was for sure. In another life he might have...
No, he wouldn’t.
No point in wishing. He didn’t have space for a relationship; and definitely not with someone a million miles away from his home. That would never work. No point starting something.
He pressed forwards, forcing all his attention to the here and now, not the murky past or his short-circuited future.
* * *
Finally, they were all settled into the chopper. Two patients. One more than they’d bargained for.
Brian gunned the engine. ‘It’s going to be a bit bumpy, but we’ll be back in no time.’
She looked a little green as they rose into the air and shunted sharply east as a rogue gust caught them. For one second she looked terrified, then she regained her composure and started to chat to Shane, keeping him orientated to time and place. Her voice was like music cutting through the grim roar of the engine and the beeping of the portable ECG machine that monitored Marty’s heart trace.
She was laughing, but it was gentle and lyrical. ‘So, Shane, your crampon front-ended and you did a spectacular cartwheel down the mountain. If you want to train for the gymnastic world championships you could do with finding a more level place to do it.’
‘Er...what’s...happening? Did we have a patient?’
There was a flicker of a frown, then she recovered. ‘Yes. He’s just here, next to you. Marty’s had some ketamine so he’s doing okay. No. No, stay where you are, love. We need you to keep as still as you can.’ All the while she talked, her eyes roved over first one patient then the other, assessing, monitoring, smiling.
Dancing. Moving. Smiling.
There was just something about her that was mesmerising.
Cal shook himself and focused on Marty’s observations. Mesmerising or not, he had promises to fulfil. Three months, he’d been given. Three months to train with the most highly skilled search and rescue team in the world and then he’d be back in Scotland to resume his duties and try to make amends for the mistake that had cost his brother his future.
* * *
By the time they reached the ED it was almost the end of Abbie’s shift. Her head was thumping a little but the bleeding had stopped. And, okay, she’d lied. The scoop had been so heavy, her hands were cut and sore, but none of that mattered until Marty and Shane were sorted out. Having already taken Shane through to her waiting colleagues, she now helped wheel Marty’s gurney into Resus and handed over to the ED staff. Into safe hands.
Theoretically, from this side of the process, she was done, but she hung around, feeling a little sidelined and a lot out of sorts. Actually, she was in pain and a little shocked at how things had progressed in those wintry conditions and how close they’d come to disaster. Cal was standing next to her. He looked up from his notes, those bright eyes catching her by surprise. He was a big man. Tall. Broad. Calm. He glanced at her forehead. ‘You need to get that cut sorted out. I’ll ask someone to take a look.’
‘I’ll sort it. Thanks. They’re all too busy with Marty and Shane and a load of other things.’ She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead. ‘It’s all dried up. I’ll do it later.’
‘Or, I’ll do it for you, now.’ He pointed to an empty cubicle. ‘Grab a seat.’
‘But I want to stay and work on Marty.’
‘Tough luck. Not your job right now.’ A straight talker, then. As he spoke Cal wheeled round and opened a few drawers, finding some gauze and saline.
‘Actually, it is my job. I can’t just abandon my shift.’
‘I’m not asking you to, but you’re my responsibility right now—you hurt yourself on my watch.’
‘It was hardly your fault; we did what we had to do. This is just a bit of fallout. I’ll live.’
‘But I’m duty bound to fix you up. Plus, I can’t let you tend to any patients looking like that—you’ll scare them off.’ His eyes glinted with laughter and she couldn’t help joining in. Next thing she knew he was moving her to a seat and pressing the gauze onto her forehead. He’d been firm but fair up the mountain, having been thrust in charge of three—no, four, including the pilot—lives. Clearly, he was the kind of guy who took responsibility seriously. He hadn’t been flustered or snappy, he’d just calmly told them all what they needed to do. A leader by example. And here he was doing it again.
He was also incredibly close. She couldn’t remember being this close to a man who wasn’t her patient for a long time. A long, long time. He was still being all calm and in control—if not a little bossy. And that made her nervous inside.
And...and he had the most amazing scent. A fresh air kind of smell. Something she wanted to inhale.
Stop it. She could feel her cheeks starting to burn. ‘Look, give me the saline, I’ll just wipe it—’
‘No.’ His voice was level and steady and she got the feeling he wasn’t going to cave in to her refusal. ‘Sit down and let me clean this up. This is going to sting.’
‘Are you, by chance, an older brother?’
‘Yeah. How did you guess?’ There was a grim smile at that comment, his eyes dulling a little.
‘Oh, you know, the take-no-crap bossiness. I bet your sibs love you.’
‘As it happens, he does. One brother. Younger, by two and a half years. He hates me and loves me in equal measure.’ There was a pause where Callum seemed to retreat into his own thoughts, his eyes clouded with pain that seemed to come from nowhere, but permeated his body. ‘No, actually he just hates me.’
‘Boys will be boys, I guess.’
‘Something like that.’ Cal took her