by Dianne Drake
Ana Flavia took a moment to respond, then amid the flurry of parched words, Lorna did hear, ‘OK.’
“Her voice is weaker,” she said to Gideon. “I’m getting concerned about her condition. I think she’s been trapped for quite a while, maybe even since the beginning of all this, which would be over two days now. No food, no water, and God knows how old she is…” She shivered. “I don’t know if we have until morning, Gideon.” It was so damned frustrating being so close, yet in a very real sense so far away. “Can’t we get more light up here and see if we can get her out? Or maybe somehow I could get in.”
He stood too. “More light means more people. The ground’s not stable, especially with all the rain that’s come down in the past hour, and if we can’t see what we’re doing we could dislodge something that would kill her. I know it’s frustrating, Lorn, but trust me. Her best shot is for us to wait until we can see the whole area.”
“If the side of the mountain doesn’t slide down on us in the meantime,” Lorna snapped, angry at Gideon, angry over the situation, angry at herself for not being able to do more.
“That’s always a possibility, and I do have people watching for that now.” He pointed to several torchlights aimed at various positions up above them. “If it looks like it’s going to slide, we’ll do what we have to do.”
“Are they all this dangerous?” Lorna asked. “All the rescues you go out on, are they all this dangerous?”
“Many of them, no. In the United States, we get call-outs quite often to search a forest for a lost child, and most of the time those are pretty safe…for the rescuers. But some call-outs are even worse than this. The ones I don’t like the most are the coal mines after a cave in. I’m not a great fan of crawling on my belly in dark places, but more often than not that’s what those turn out to be. And they’re always unstable and unsafe.”
“Yet you go in.”
“Someone has to. Might as well be me. Besides, I never put my people in jeopardy if the risk is too great.”
That wasn’t even him trying to be the hero. It was Gideon putting everybody before himself. He broke the rules, he put himself at the greatest risk because that’s the way he was. She wondered, briefly, if he would have been like that if they’d stayed married, had a family, built a life. Would he have ended up being a risk taker? “All the time we were together, I didn’t know the details,” she said, picking up her Thermos of coffee and pouring a little into the cup lid. After taking a sip, she handed it to Gideon. “I knew what a rescue operation was, but I always pictured you doing the medical treatment more than anything else. Kind of like what Gwen does. You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Not telling me everything?”
“It kept you from worrying.”
“I would have worried, Gideon. God, I would have worried. But I had the right to know, the right to worry. And you didn’t allow me that.” Even though they weren’t married now, something told her she would worry in the future now that she knew.
“You mean like you didn’t allow me into your decision when you decided to change career directions? I had a right to know that, Lorna, before you signed the contract. Before you went and changed our life together without even telling me.”
For a brief moment, both were quiet. It was as if an unspoken reality was slipping down over them. Something she couldn’t define, but something she definitely felt. Lorna shivered, not from the chill of the rain, but from the cold realization that she and Gideon should have been better together the first time and that the end of their marriage hadn’t been as one-sided she’d convinced herself it had been.
But she and Gideon had been married, and perhaps, if she’d given him a chance before she’d made her decision, his opinions wouldn’t have turned into demands. Too late to know. One thing was sure, though. They’d both suffered their fair share of marital maladjustments. Only now she was coming to realize her own part in the breakdown.
“Well, you’re right about the coffee,” he finally said, breaking the disquieting moment between them as he handed the cup back to Lorna. “If the mud slides don’t kill us, the coffee will.”
“So why didn’t we ever talk about it?” she asked. “Was it something that simply slipped into a habit for us, ignoring what was really happening?”
“I was just asking myself the same question,” he said.
“And?”
“And I don’t know. I’d like to say we were too young and let it go at that, but we weren’t. We were both nearly thirty, me just over, you just under, so that’s not an excuse. Anything else just makes us seem…”
“Pathetic,” she supplied.
Chuckling, he stretched his arms over his head, then stretched his back, trying to work out the kinks setting in. “I was thinking something more like a match made in hell from the beginning, but too good in bed to notice that everything else was falling apart. Could you rub my neck just a minute…a little on the left side?”
Sex had been their way of avoiding the things they hadn’t wanted to face. It had been easier that way. Go to bed, make love, forget about everything else.
Suddenly, a slight smile crept to Lorna’s face as she turned to give him a little massage. They’d spent an awful lot of time avoiding things and Gideon was right, they’d been positively brilliant at that aspect of their marriage. A wistful sigh replaced the smile, though. Positively brilliant, and not in a way they should have been. “We did have our moments, though,” she conceded, finding the tight spot…the spot that had always been tight every time he’d asked her to do this.
“And some of them actually mattered,” he murmured, sounding a little like a contented big cat.
But too many of them hadn’t, which was what had killed them. Try as she might, Lorna couldn’t remember very many moments that had mattered. In a three-year relationship from beginning to end, her memories should have been full to overflowing. “I’m sorry we were who we were. And you’re right. Some of the moments did matter, just not enough.”
“No regrets, Lorna. Things work out they way they’re meant to—good, bad or otherwise.” Gideon leaned back slightly as she moved her massage down over his shoulder. “In spite of the way it turned out, I don’t regret our marriage. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for my end of the problems. I know I caused my share of them.”
“You’ve never said anything like that before,” she said. Maybe he had changed after all.
He chuckled. “At the time, it was all your fault. But I’ve had five years to think about it, to shift the pieces of the puzzle, and I’ve seen some things differently.”
Which ones? she wondered. “I’m sorry, too. I made mistakes…”
“Lorna?” Ana Flavia called out, breaking up the moment.
“OK?” Lorna called back.
“OK,” she responded.
“She’s getting weaker. Beginning to give out, I think.” She stopped the massage when her urge was to go on down his forearm. Bad idea. She remembered where it went from there. Over the arm, across the abdomen, then on down…Very bad idea! “Without any fluids in her for so long, I’m concerned about kidney damage.”
He snapped away from her when she stopped, probably remembering the same thing she had. “She’s probably fighting exhaustion. It happens. They fight with everything they’ve got when the search is on, calling for someone to find them, or trying to dig their way out. Then, when rescue is imminent, they give out.”
“Will she make it?” Lorna asked. “In your experience, will Ana Flavia survive until morning?”
“People are resilient. They bounce back in amazing ways…ways you’d never expect them to.”
“Then maybe I should let her sleep and save her strength, instead of disturbing her every couple of minutes. It’s just that I don’t want her to feel like I’ve abandoned her.”
“As long as she hears your voice out here, she’ll know she’s not alone.”
Like she’d so desperately wanted to hear his voice and not feel alone the day
she’d miscarried.
The rain was beginning to pick up, and Lorna pulled the slicker up over her head. “So we wait,” she said, her own voice shaky. “For as long as it takes.”
“As long as it takes,” he repeated. He pulled into his slicker too, and now there were merely two rubber bundles huddled on the side of a muddy slope, waiting for the first light of day. Lots of problems out in the open, lots of problems still tucked away. Even so, there was no one in the world she’d rather be doing this with other than Gideon. “So tell me all about Houston,” she finally said. In truth, she wanted to know…wanted to know so much more than she dared ask.
“For starters, I live in a warehouse that serves as the offices and equipment storage facility for Global Response. Nice apartment. Lots of space.” He chuckled. “Most of it empty since I don’t need much other than my job.”
“How did you hook up with them? I thought you were with On Call Rescue.”
“That’s who I was with when we were married. But one of the guys I’d worked with there went out on his own and set up this unit. I went with him to be his assistant in charge. Then he was…”
Gideon’s voice trailed off, and Lorna held her breath, already anticipating what he would say when he spoke again. “Killed?” she asked hesitantly.
“Married,” he said. “Moved to Switzerland with his wife. Turned the company over to me.”
Lorna breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, death was a possibility in this kind of work. But tying it to Gideon in a very real sense…she was relieved that she didn’t have to.
“They’re running a mountain rescue operation out of a village clinic together,” he continued.
“And happy, like Jason and Priscilla?” She didn’t know why she cared, but she did. Maybe it was because she was still surprised that a married couple could survive that kind of a situation, and even thrive in it. Deep down, she was a little envious.
“Happy, starting a family, having all the good things they deserve.”
Lorna straightened her back, and shifted positions from cross-legged to legs straight out. They poked out from under the slicker, but it didn’t matter. Wet was wet, and she couldn’t get any wetter than she already was. “And you got your own search-and-rescue operation. That’s what you always wanted, wasn’t it?”
“Something like that,” he said. “Look, I’m going to go back down and make sure everything is good to go come sun-up. Will you be OK here by yourself for about ten minutes?”
She’d been OK by herself for the entirety of their marriage, then all the years afterwards. So ten minutes one way or another didn’t really make much of a difference at all. Still, when he’d gone, she did feel a little lonely.
“They’re on their way up,” Gideon shouted from his spot adjacent to the pile of debris imprisoning Ana Flavia. Kneeling in the mud, he was meticulously removing the boards, one at a time, trying to get to her, while Lorna was relegated to the scene below, where the others had stood with their torches last night. She was near the rescue in progress, but not allowed in now. It made sense as she wasn’t experienced in this, but she so wanted to be up there to help.
It was good watching Gideon, though…watching him in his element. She’d never seen this before, and a new sense of respect was welling up in her for what he did. This was only one incident, and he did this time and time again, day in, day out. He experienced the highs and the lows, then picked himself up and started all over again wherever he was needed. Yes, she did respect that, and him. More than that, she was in awe. Imagine that! In awe of her ex-husband. Well, stranger things had been known to happen, she supposed. Five years ago she hadn’t cared if she never saw him again and now he was at the top of her most-admired list.
Lorna twisted to look at the other volunteers making their way up the mountain face. She admired them, too. All of them.
“Are you holding up?” Tom asked, as he brushed by her.
“I’ll be holding up better once you get her out.”
“Shouldn’t take long,” he promised, as he continued upward.
Jason was there, along with Brian, a couple of the other volunteers who’d come down with Gideon, and a whole host of locals. True to his word, Gideon allowed the experienced up while everybody else stayed down below, carting off debris that had been pulled away, fetching water for the rescuers, standing at the ready for anything necessary. And for the next two hours it was a dreadfully slow, nerve-racking process getting in to Ana Flavia. But the crew was methodical about it, and cautious. So Lorna stood by with the rest of them, going as far as permitted to receive an armload of debris, taking an occasional drink of water up to the line, bandaging a few cuts and scrapes caused by the wood being pulled off Ana Flavia’s prison, and mostly waiting. Finally, after what seemed to take as long as the endless night had, Gideon waved Lorna up. “Lorna,” he called. “I think there’s someone here you’d like to meet.”
As she scrambled up the mountain face, slipping and sliding in the mud, the last thing on her mind was the way she looked, and how Frayne was filming every last scrap of the rescue. All she wanted was to see Ana Flavia…alive.
“How much longer?” she asked breathlessly, as she reached Gideon’s side.
He smiled. “Not much.”
“Is someone in there with her?”
“Tom went in about five minutes ago.”
“And?”
“And he says she’s weak, dehydrated, but she’s doing fine. Her vital signs are holding, weak but not alarming, and she’s alert. Asking for you.”
“Thank God,” Lorna whispered, a wave of pure relief washing over her just as Tom emerged from a hole cut down into the roof, helping Ana Flavia out with him. She was actually walking. Not steady on her feet, leaning heavily against Tom, but walking. And smiling.
Without asking, Lorna ran to the old lady and threw her arms around her. Ana Flavia collapsed in Lorna’s arms, weeping and thanking her, and Lorna held onto her until Gideon signaled the stretcher up. Even then, she didn’t let go of Ana Flavia’s hand as they carried the stretcher back down to the trail then on to the base camp. And both women chatted the whole time, neither one understanding the other. But never mind. In those dark hours, the bond had formed, and Gideon was right. The words spoken didn’t matter.
The rain had stopped an hour ago, and now only a light mist fell over the area. In the gray of the morning it looked ugly. And sad. But Ana Flavia was well, taking liquids nicely and soon to be allowed solid food, and Lorna was so relieved that even the dreary pall cast over the area didn’t faze her. It was hard to believe that in another few hours she’d be on her way back home. But that was the case. Frayne had his footage, and in spite of all her medical activity she had her notes. This was a wrap, as they said. Time to go back to her real world. And in a bright sense, the sooner she got this documentary to air, the sooner donations would come in to support Gideon’s operation. That was the ultimate end, the logical conclusion, her part of the bargain. And something this group of rescuers so desperately needed.
Still, she couldn’t totally shake off the glum feeling sliding down over her. It was like something here wasn’t yet finished. Her work as a doctor? Or as a media personality? Perhaps something with Gideon?
Lorna sighed, looking down the row of patients in the hospital tent. They were still coming in and going out and, in all honesty, her presence there wouldn’t make much difference one way or another. Gideon’s people were a very responsible bunch. They worked harder than any people she’d ever seen, cared deeply, and never complained. They deserved to have their story told. And soon.
“So do you need coverage in the hospital?” she asked Gwen, who whisked by her, carrying an IV set-up.
Gwen gave her a skeptical look before she answered. “I think Harry and Jason have both tents covered pretty well. But thanks.” She scurried another few steps, then spun back. “But if you’re looking for something to do right now, Dani and Tom went up to the south face. Tom didn’t stock up
his kit after the last rescue. Could you take a fresh medical bag out to him? Maybe when you get there, they’ll let you join their search.”
Well, that was some progress, wasn’t it? She’d rather have been asked out on rescue where the primary goal for her wasn’t to merely tote out some supplies, but people here didn’t quibble. Everything was toward the same end. And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t get back in time to catch the transport out.
That thought brought a smile to Lorna’s face as she grabbed up a rucksack and radio and headed out the hospital tent door.
She looked exhausted, Gideon thought. Completely spent. But Lorna wasn’t used to this kind of work. Her world was about primping for the camera, then smiling. Not breaking her fingernails ripping at boards to rescue an old woman. Lorna had done such a good job last night, though, and he’d gained a new respect for her. He’d always known she was a good doctor, but her sheer will to save Ana Flavia had shown him a side of her he’d never seen. Or never been around to see. He had to admit though, he had been surprised by her determination to see the rescue through to the end.
Maybe it had always been there and he’d simply missed it. “Like I missed a lot of things,” he said to Ana Flavia, who didn’t understand a word he said. “I wasn’t a very good husband, you know. I was always off doing what I wanted, and then when she had the opportunity to do what she wanted…” He cringed, thinking about it. “I tried to stop her, Ana Flavia. I tried to stop Lorna.”
