by Anne Ashby
A tap on her foot silenced her repeated calls and she reluctantly crawled back to Shal.
“You keep calling while I get in touch with rescue headquarters.” She untied the rope and threw it at Shal. “Don’t go near the edge without that rope tied around your middle.”
Feeding out the aerial, she remembered Shal’s sudden interest in the flora that first day at Woodcock Saddle and his apparent disinterest in the view. And then there was his alacrity getting across the Waimangarara. There was no reason right now to acknowledge Shal’s vertigo. Jodie’s respect rose as she saw him edging his way toward the slip.
How had he managed the ropes back at the base? Jodie knew he had managed them without any sign of concern, or else her parents would have mentioned it.
Communications with the operator at the Field Search Headquarters had just been established when Shal’s voice called. “He’s moving. Jodie, I see him moving.” He called once again down the hill, but there was no verbal response.
“Wait. Out.” Jodie told the operator. She rushed to Shal’s side.
“Be careful.” His grip on her ankle was enough to stop the blood flowing. She sank to her knees as she saw the fear in his eyes. Fear for her, she realised. Her mind spun with bewilderment. Biting her lip, she shoved the warm, fuzzy feeling aside and concentrated on the silver-clad form far below them.
“Danny, it’s Jo, can you hear me? Wave or something.”
A sob burst from her throat as an arm rose and weakly waved about.
“He’s alive!” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “He’s alive.”
“You stupid bastard,” she yelled. “What the hell are you doing down there? You’ve scared ten years off my life.”
Jodie tried to wipe the tears away as again the arm waved. She shared a watery smile with Shal.
“I’m just going to call this in, Danny. I’ll be with you soon.”
“He’s conscious,” Jodie reported. “About a hundred metres down from where we are. I’ll get down to him now, and get a baseline observation report to you asap.”
Jodie’s eyes watered as a different voice crossed the airwaves. “Give him my love and tell him we’re waiting for him.”
“I will, Maata. I’ll take care of him until more help arrives, I promise.” Jodie ended the conversation, telling them Shal would call in approximately thirty minutes.
“Water, I need to take him water,” she muttered. “He’ll be dehydrated.”
“You’re not going down there, it’s too dangerous.”
Jodie’s eyes widened in astonishment at Shal’s edict, and then almost popped when he added, “I’ll go. You tell me what to do, what to take. I’ll do it.”
Jodie turned away, digging into her pack, as much to hide her face as retrieve all she’d need.
Her respect for Shal skyrocketed. His fear—now she was aware of it—was so obvious, and yet he was willing to subject himself to utter terror rather than allow her to risk being hurt. Her heart raced.
For a second she basked in the warmth of that thought before common sense reasserted itself. It was just another indication of his controlling personality or, even more likely, an unwillingness to appear anything but strong and in command. He’d rather go over the side of a mountain than to...God knows what...than lose face.
What an idiot. Whatever his motivation, he’s still an idiot.
“I need you up here, Shal.” She saw a flash of relief in his eyes before he stubbornly shook his head. “If anything goes wrong, you’re strong enough to haul me back up. You might even be strong enough to pull us both up, if Danny’s not too badly hurt.”
She smiled at him, as she saw her reasoning taking hold. “If you go down, then that’s the way we stay until more help arrives.” She shrugged, her head on one side, as a tiny smile played at her lips. “You see my point?”
He nodded his head slowly, obviously torn between his relief at not having to go into the ravine and his reluctance to allow her to.
“Water will be our biggest problem. We’ll have to hope for some runoffs still draining after the rain.”
Shal retrieved the water bottles from their packs and transferred what little water they had left into one bottle.
“What’s our plan?”
That fuzzy feeling returned. Our, it had a nice ring. “I need to assess the extent of his injuries. Then we’ll make decisions.”
Obviously Shal didn’t need the quick lesson she gave on using the VHF radio. She looked at him overtly as she checked the first aid kit, nodding quickly in response to a question. In a flash Jodie realised her confidence in Shal’s ability to help was boundless.
Bewildered when other thoughts of Shal tried to surface, she reminded herself over and over he was her safety number. There wasn’t time for personal thoughts to cloud her mind.
She slipped her small daypack onto her back. Fashioning the nylon rope around her waist, she prayed it was long enough to allow her to reach Danny.
An anxious frown marred Shal’s good looks.
“I have a feeling you’re gonna be a good man to have around during this emergency, Shal.” She smiled at him before jumping over the edge of the slip to abseil down.
Finding firm ground near Danny wasn’t difficult. He lay against a tree trunk Jodie hadn’t seen from above. She soon ascertained the old rimu was embedded deep into the mud and not going anywhere. Still stepping very cautiously, Jodie edged closer to her friend.
“You silly bugger, I thought you could run fast enough to avoid trouble.” She tried to joke, although her voice broke as she took in the awkward way he laid and his shallow complexion.
“Must be getting old, eh, girl?” he rasped. His voice slurred across cracked, dehydrated lips.
Jodie held the water bottle, allowing him a couple of swallows before she put it aside.
“Any bleeding, Danny?”
“Not as far as I can tell.” Danny knew the score; he’d been on rescue missions himself.
“Chest pain?”
“I think I’ve killed my ribs. Nothing serious though,” he muttered. “How’d you get here so quickly?”
“Rick and I were with a bunch of townies camped beside the Wharekiri when we heard.” She’d removed the hypothermia blanket and was examining him.
“Busted my right leg and maybe the left ankle,” Danny grated. He flinched as Jodie’s hands ran across his leg. “Quit poking me, girl. You’re about as gentle as an elephant.”
Jodie’s heart lightened. Insults from Danny were commonplace. She murmured an apology.
“Rick up there with you?”
“No, he stayed with the group. One of the guys is with me as a safety number.”
“A townie?”
“Mmm.” Jodie didn’t want to talk about Shal. “How about your head? You were unconscious when we arrived.”
“Unconscious? Nah, I was having a sleep, nothing much else to do.”
“You’re sure?” she flicked the little torch into his eyes, noting the response of his pupils. “Maata sends her love, they’re waiting at FHQ.”
“Thanks.”
Jodie pretended not to notice the tears well up in his dark eyes. She continued her examination, already knowing that if he had two broken legs and probable broken ribs she and Shal would not be moving him. All they could do was make him as comfortable as possible and wait for the rescue helicopter.
“What happened to your emergency beacon?”
She dug into her bag, unwrapped an energy bar, and gave it to him along with some more water.
“I couldn’t reach the damn thing.” For the first time Jodie noticed the bottom compartment of Danny’s pack had been ripped open and its contents, including the life saving beacon, were scattered below them on the slip.
“I’ve turned mine on.” She patted his shoulder. “At least you had some food, and your blanket.”
“Yeah.” Danny sucked on the water bottle. “It could have been worse.”
“We’ll call this in now.�
�� Looking up, she called, “Shal?”
The dark head popped into view immediately.
“Make that call, Shal, and I’ll feed you Danny’s vitals.”
When finished, she said to Danny, “Let’s see about making you a little more comfortable, shall we?” She leaned over and kissed the swollen and scratched face. “Thank God you’re not badly hurt.”
****
After relaying Jodie’s report Shal returned the radio to safer ground and crawled to where he could see over the slip. He jerked his head back as he witnessed Jodie kissing the deerstalker.
Jumping to his feet, he stomped back toward their packs, irritated beyond reason at seeing that man’s arm around her and their heads so close together. He remembered how she’d trembled in his arms just before they’d arrived at the slip. She’d been afraid for her friend—her school friend. That clinch hadn’t looked like school friends.
A low, harsh curse escaped. Acknowledging he had no right to feel annoyed only made it worse. Dismissing those big green eyes from his mind was getting more difficult by the hour.
Calling Jodie’s name before he edged over to the slip should give her time to scoot away, he decided. As he glanced over, she was still kneeling close beside Danny, wiping his face as if he was some precious baby.
Shal felt his stomach tighten, wishing she’d touch him like that. Wishing she’d hurry back up the slip, away from her friend.
Ashamed as the selfish angry thoughts flowed into his head, he dismissed them. Shal knew the extent of Danny’s injures. He could imagine what seeing a friendly face must be like after lying out there for four days, alone and in terrible pain, at the mercy of the weather.
He’d sensed right from the start they were very close friends. There was Rick’s concern, and Jodie’s reaction when the injured deerstalker had been named. And that kiss? You don’t need to share kisses with people you rescue.
“Jodie,” he called, watching her glance up in his direction, although she still talked to the injured man. “I’ll look for some water. There was that little stream near our last rest stop, if I don’t find anything closer.”
“Thanks,” Jodie returned. “Take the billy out of my pack.”
“Okay. I’ll set up camp, too. And get some food for you both when I get back.” Giving himself as much to do as possible would stop him thinking these crazy thoughts.
“Thank you, Shal. Stay on the track, won’t you?”
“Of course.” Does she think I’m stupid? As he trudged off with anything that would hold water, Shal wondered if her concern had been for him, as a man, or just for her safety number during this rescue mission.
Chapter Eight
By the time the small helicopter arrived the next afternoon Shal’s patience was strained. He had continually told himself he was being childish and petty to be annoyed at Jodie’s attention to her patient. Yet, he couldn’t control his disappointment every time she returned down the slip to the injured man’s side.
The helicopter hovered close to where Shal stood. Shielding his face from the rotors’ draft, he returned the cheery wave from the pilot. Watching first a stretcher and then a man being winched down, Shal was in awe of the precision and teamwork displayed. Within moments Jodie and the man had lifted Danny into the stretcher, strapped him in and the two of them were airborne.
Shal gaped as the helicopter just flew off with the stretcher now secured to its side. It was small. There hadn’t been room for two more passengers. Jodie must have told the pilot to come back for them. He looked down. She hadn’t acknowledged him since the helicopter’s arrival, but of course he couldn’t have expected her to. She’d been busy. Now he watched her grabbing the rope as she began to climb back up to him.
“How long before they’re back?” Shal grasped her waistband as soon as she crested the edge.
She gave him a strange look as he hauled her upright, and almost apprehensively replied, “They won’t be back.”
“What?” his voice rose. “Why not?” he demanded.
“There’s been terrible flooding all over the bottom of the North Island. Most of the Wairerapa and Manawatu districts are under water. There are a lot of people far worse off than us. That chopper’s needed elsewhere,” she snapped.
Shal felt the blood drain from his face as he imagined the cities and towns affected, how many homes, how many thousands of hectares of farmland.
Feeling guilty that his own comfort had momentarily taken precedence over the needier, Shal wiped a hand over his face. “Oh, Hell.” He paused, thinking of the logistics of being stuck out here for longer. “We haven’t much food left, some scroggin and two power bars.” His practical mind assessed their immediate situation. “How long to walk out of here?”
“Two days.”
Confused by Jodie’s underlying tension, Shal tried to lighten the atmosphere. “I guess we’ll get a tad hungry then. Although those asparagus-flavoured ferns you told us about could be filling. Along with some huhu bugs for added protein.”
“That’s two days if the rivers are crossable. And according to Dave”—she nodded toward the departed helicopter—“they’re not.”
“Then what do we do?” he felt no concern, knowing she’d have the answer, and she didn’t let him down.
“We head for the Sanctuary and wait.”
“Sanctuary? Where or what is the Sanctuary?”
“It’s about four hours that way.” She vaguely waved a hand. “There’s food and shelter there. I’ll just radio Dad.”
Shal frowned as his eyes followed her. She seemed ill at ease. Even the stilted conversation with her father sounded odd, forced.
They were soon retracing their earlier route along the ridgeline and Jodie appeared to be looking for a side track.
She hadn’t said a word since she’d talked to her father. The silence was becoming oppressive and Shal couldn’t stand the tension any longer. Now Danny was in safe hands, couldn’t they return to the easy companionship they’d established? “Is this going to be a hard tramp?”
“Not too hard.”
“You’re not going to lead me down any more vertical cliffs?”
He finally got a weak smile from her. “Not today, anyway.”
“He’ll be all right.”
She shot a confused look his way. “Your friend...he’s going to be all right.”
Jodie’s face lightened, “Yeah, he’ll be fine. Might be off his feet for a few weeks, but I’d bet he’ll be back out here again by autumn.”
At long last he’d got her to break her silence. “You don’t think he’ll be put off the bush?”
“Danny wouldn’t get put off easy as that.”
“He’s like you, is he?” At her raised eyebrows he added, “A little thing like two broken legs wouldn’t taint your love for the bush, would it?”
He caught the dreamy expression crossing on her face before she shook her head and scrambled ahead to tackle a short, steep climb on the narrower track.
Following close behind, Shal had difficulty keeping his mind and his eyes on the footholds on the track. They kept wandering to the sight directly in front of him—the rounded bottom, the long tanned legs that showed those beautifully sculptured muscles as they strained up the steep incline.
It was the most natural thing in the world for his body to respond to those sweet curves, wasn’t it? Blood rushed to the nether region of his body as he imagined those legs clasped tightly around him, those hands, reaching out to hold him.
“Are you okay?”
Shal hardly realised he’d slipped until Jodie’s urgent voice penetrated his X-rated thoughts. He looked up, visualising her naked, her lips whispering sweet promises.
“Shal? Are you hurt?” She’d slid down beside him, stretching out to grasp his arm.
“No, no.” He struggled to get up, his embarrassment making him forget the heavy pack, which nearly unbalanced him. He just prayed she wouldn’t glance down and see the telltale bulge in his shorts.
<
br /> What’s the matter with me? I’m not so starved of women that fantasies blind me.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m fine. I just let my mind wander for a moment and wasn’t paying attention to where my feet were going. I won’t let it happen again.” He mustn’t let it happen again.
****
There had been no alternative. From the moment Dave mentioned the atrocious conditions existing in the flood-devastated areas south of them, Jodie knew she couldn’t expect the helicopter to return to pick up two fit, able-bodied trampers when they were within a few hours’ hike of more than adequate food and shelter.
But she’d sworn she’d never return to the Sanctuary. Her parents’ love nest was not somewhere she wanted to take any man.
She glanced over her shoulder, knowing Shal was confused at her silence, but her mind was too crammed with angry, pain-filled memories she’d worked so hard to forget.
I thought Jason was so special. She’d been ready to commit her life to the Auckland university lecturer. Some imp inside had suggested bringing him to the Sanctuary and within a couple of days her world had fallen apart.
Taken out of his own environment to one he didn’t appreciate and couldn’t control, Jason had displayed negative personality traits that had stunned her. He’d become someone she hardly recognised.
The next few months had been hell, watching him through different eyes strutting around the campus, as if nothing had changed. Perhaps he’d always been so involved in his own selfish existence to the exclusion of everyone else’s feelings, and she’d been too in love to see it.
He never guessed how much his mocking rejection of all she held dear had hurt her, though. She had more pride than that. His scoffing at her down-to-earth upbringing and her lack of sophistication had been a harsh and painful lesson, but Jason had cured her naive gullibility.
Age and experience had dulled her anger. Now she pitied the narrow existence of townies, so often too wrapped up in their own little worlds to appreciate the beauty surrounding them.
She kicked a fallen branch out of her way. How has Shal Gregory infiltrated my safe little world? Pity wasn’t the emotion she was struggling with when she thought of him.
