hair, with its gorgeous golden-honey colour and the length that made it so damn sexy when it brushed on naked skin.
Her voice.
Those huge blue eyes that darkened in colour if her mood was extreme. They were as dark as he’d ever seen them right now. She was shocked. Afraid.
Of him?
It was another reaction that Tom had to squash. This wasn’t about them right now. It couldn’t be allowed to be. And this was most certainly not the time or place to try to process anything so personal.
So Tom simply nodded. And acknowledged her.
‘Abby.’
It was just a name but the weight that single word could carry was overpowering. It wasn’t just a person he was acknowledging. Behind that name swirled deep, personal things. Huge, painful things that Tom had thought were long since dead and buried. He could feel them hovering over him in this instant, waiting to punch him in the gut with far more force than seeing her hair or hearing her voice had done. Stab him in the heart, even.
They couldn’t be allowed to get even remotely closer. Not here, not now. They were in an emergency situation that was far bigger than a reunion between two people whose relationship had turned to custard.
‘Fill us in,’ he ordered Abby. ‘Communication’s been very patchy and we need to know what we’re dealing with, here.’
She nodded. ‘The cell phone tower is out of action. They’ve been using the coastguard radio to communicate with the mainland but nobody’s been back to update us. We had no idea when help would start arriving. Come with me.’
Abby led them to what had been her office.
Tom Kendrick was here.
Here. Right behind her. As huge as he’d ever been in both his physical size and the sheer presence his personality emanated. Just as breathtakingly gorgeous as he’d ever been, too, with those strong features and dark eyes and that deep, commanding voice. A crisp, professional voice right now but Abby knew how it could soften. How both that voice and those eyes could make her think of melted chocolate.
Oh … dear Lord … The past was crashing all around her, just like all that stuff that had come off the shelves of her office during the big quake.
Small, paper-sized things, like finding out they had the same favourite foods. Sweet, jelly-snake kinds of things, like how good the sex had been. Huge, fridge-sized things, like the way she couldn’t have imagined her future without him as a part of it.
She couldn’t handle this new bombardment. Her world had been turned upside down and shaken far too hard already. Abby walked ahead of Tom, frantically trying to find the emotional equivalent of a solid desk to crawl underneath, but every instinct was urging her to run. To get out of there—away from Tom—to find Jack and then just keep running. The way she had when Jack had been no more than a positive line on a pregnancy test?
No. Her first instinct then had been to run back to Tom, hadn’t it? Despite the fact that their relationship had already hit the rocks. She’d chosen to run later, when she’d had time to think about the implications of a future that included him.
Something like a sob was building inside her chest, making it impossible to take a breath. She couldn’t run because she was desperately needed here.
And she didn’t even know where Jack was right now, so she could find herself running totally in the wrong direction.
The hovering terror had just been magnified.
She didn’t know whether Jack really was safe.
And … what if Tom found out about Jack?
She had to hold it together. She would be no use to anyone if she fell apart. She had to hang on to the mantra that Ruth had given her within minutes of the quake. Jack was safe. All the children on the school trip, including her Brooke and Amber, would be safe. They were miles away from the township and village and the falling debris that was hurting people.
They were probably the safest people on the island and the teachers would be looking after them. The only reason that they weren’t already in the school hall that was being used as an evacuation centre was because something had happened to close the cliff road. They might have to walk instead of riding in the old school bus.
Time had passed in a blur since that initial terror. That first stunned silence, when the wail of the tsunami-warning siren could be clearly heard, hadn’t lasted long.
Panicked people were heading away from the harbour’s edge and uphill towards the hospital. Others began rushing away from the medical centre when it was discovered that the cell phone tower was obviously not functioning and there was no way for anybody to find out whether loved ones were okay. The first injured people began to arrive and Abby had to check on the mostly elderly inpatients in the old hospital wing.
She needed Ben to be here. And Ginny, the doctor who’d helped out recently, although she was refusing to fill the gap that had been left when the last doctor had resigned. She wouldn’t refuse now. They needed all the help they could get.
Thank heavens for Ruth. She’d started by reassuring Abby about the children and had then carried on to be a tower of strength in assisting her to create some order amongst the chaos. With Daisy strapped to her chest in a sling, and Blake being looked after by Hannah, they’d checked on everybody they could find and dispensed both first aid and as much reassurance as they could muster. They’d been ready for contact from the local policeman and volunteer fire brigade when it came and had begun to coordinate a response.
More people who needed medical attention had begun to arrive at the centre and the men had driven off to assess the damage in the township. Now Ruth was sitting at the desk in Abby’s office, trying to record and coordinate information about who was missing, injured or might need evacuation to the mainland.
Ruth looked up as Abby entered the office and she had tears of relief in her eyes as she registered the men with her. ‘Oh, thank God you’re here.’ She tilted her head to see past the two men.
‘It’s just us, so far.’ It was the man with Tom who spoke. ‘We got dispatched as soon as it was known that the epicentre of the quake was in a populated area. When contact was made and we heard about injuries and trapped people, a full response was put into action but it takes time to scramble the right people. There’s another chopper and a light plane coming that are carrying two doctors, a mobile triage unit and a USAR team with a search dog, but it’ll be at least an hour until they’re due to land.’
Tom was looking at Abby.
‘Who’s in charge of the overall incident control?’
Abby heard her breath come out in an incredulous huff.
He didn’t seem to be having any trouble dealing with the fact that they were seeing each other for the first time in nearly six years. Maybe it was so far in the past he didn’t have things hurtling around in his head, like the image Abby suddenly got, of being cradled in his arms. That magic time when desire had been temporarily sated and the world had never seemed so perfect.
Maybe he didn’t have things crashing around in his head or his heart, because it had never meant that much to him in the first place. She had to hold on, here. To stop allowing the past to intrude and assume an importance it had no right to have. She had to focus. To respond to Tom as the person he was at this moment. A rescuer. A skilled professional who was doing exactly what he should be doing and focusing on his job.
But … this was an incident?
No. This was far more than a mere incident. Her whole community was in danger. People she loved. A place she loved. The sanctuary she had sought years ago that had embraced her and kept her safe. More importantly, had kept Jack safe.
Until now.
But this was Tom all over, wasn’t it? This wasn’t about the people and their broken lives. This was about the