The Army Doc's Baby Secret

by Charlotte Hawkes

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  Saved by Their One-Night Baby

  by Louisa George

  PROLOGUE

  BLACK. SO MUCH BLACK.

  Black and cold and something heavy pressing on his chest.

  So cold.

  Pain in his head.

  A sickening creak of steel cut through the thick silence, making his gut tighten and panic creep through every cell in his body.

  Black.

  So cold.

  So cold.

  So cold.

  ‘Johnny? Nick? Eddie? Ethan? Anyone?’

  Me. That’s my name. Ethan Reid.

  Uncontrollable shaking spread from his gut through his bones and over his skin. His heart thumped and his head ached. Someone was shouting his name, someone out there in the blackness.

  ‘Cold. Head.’ He’d said it out loud, he was sure he had, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. He tried to take a deep breath, but something was on his chest and he couldn’t move. Something pressing down on his chest, his legs, his arm. He blinked. Again. Tried to make out something, anything. His heart rate doubled, trebled. He tried to move but he was pinned to the cold, wet ground. There was space above him, enough to lift his head up, but when he did he made contact with something big and immovable.

  Where was he? What was happening? He couldn’t move? Where...?

  Think. Think. Think.

  Blackness everywhere. Time slowed and the blackness started to eat at him piece by piece. Blackness that was so tight and choking he thought he was going to drown in it.

  Falling. Falling. Blackness.

  ‘Cold.’ He tried again. Cold and wet and black and...he was shaking. Every part of him. ‘Cold.’

  ‘Ethan? Thank God. Stay with me. Ethan!’

  A warm hand on his. He couldn’t see... Wait, over there...a pinhole of a light.

  ‘Ethan? Ethan, can you hear me?’

  He tried to nod but he couldn’t move his head. Everything hurt so much, the light and his head and his legs.

  ‘Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.’ Chase. Chase Barrington. It was Chase’s voice, right? And he wanted him to squeeze his hand. Why? Why the hell would he squeeze Chase’s hand?

  They’d had a fight. Hadn’t they? They always fought. The last thing he’d do was squeeze his hand.

  But, sensing this was important, Ethan did as he was told.

  ‘Hey, Ethan? I said squeeze my hand if you can hear me.’

  He just had. Hadn’t he?

  The warmth disappeared, as did the voice. Then, from somewhere far away, he heard Chase again. He strained to hear what he was saying. ‘It’s Ethan. Yup. Look, some of the others are...’ Chase paused. His voice had fractured, pain filling every word. ‘Accounted for. And Ethan was in the drying room the last time I saw him, before... No, I can’t get him out, he’s under about three storeys’ worth of bricks, plaster and a massive beam that’s snapped in half. And he’s unresponsive.’

  No! I’m here. I’m here. Help me.

  Somebody else said something. Muffled.

  Then Chase again, ‘Nick? You’ve found him? He’s...where? Where? But that’s completely totalled. Oh. No.’

  More muffled voices. Raised.

  ‘No, I’m not going to stand out here and wait. Who knows how long it’ll take them to get here? Nick or Ethan or just stand here and do nothing? What kind of a choice is that? No, just shut the hell up. Ethan’s right there and I know I can get to him, okay? He’s going to freeze to death or worse.’

  Death? Wet. Black. Cold.

  Foggy images flickered into Ethan’s head as he tried to stay focused. Snow? Yes, he was always in snow.

  Try harder.

  In a ski lodge. Somewhere? France. The world champs. Yes. Drying room. Chase. Clenched fists. An arm pulled back to swing.

  He blinked and saw a tiny blue light getting bigger and in the bluish glow he saw wires hanging down. Broken beams. Part of a wall.

  Shit. There’s half a wall on my leg. ‘Help! Get me out. Help! Someone!’

  ‘Ethan? Did you say something? Hey, don’t move, seriously, you’ll bring everything down on top of us. Stay still, okay?’

  Chase Barrington again. Why him? Why him of all people?

  Stay still. Stop shaking. ‘Cold.’

  ‘I’ve got a space blanket. It’s just hard to reach around...’ Warm air feathered across Ethan’s face and something that made a scrunching sound was shoved up against his right side. ‘Can’t get it across you, Ethan. But they won’t be long.’

  ‘Who?’ It was Chase talking, right?

  Remember. Remember.

  ‘Search and Rescue. They’re coming, but there’s a blizzard...’ Chase’s voice was weird. Kind of softer than normal, which was definitely weird for a seventeen-year-old kid who was usually full of himself. ‘You have to stay awake, okay?’

  ‘Heavy. Chest. Stuck.’ Pain shot through his head and he wished he could rub the damned place it hurt but he couldn’t lift his hand. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Avalanche. Took out the lodge.’ Grunting, Chase curled into an impossibly large ball in the tiny space, pressed his feet against the rubble and bricks and broken beam and pushed. Nothing moved. ‘You’re kind of trapped.’

  Ah, yes. Now it was coming back. Junior team ski trials. The lodge. A huge roar and a breeze and then he’d been falling. Then black. ‘I’m cold.’

  ‘I know. It’s the fricking Alps and it’s almost midnight.’ Chase laughed but it didn’t sound right. Forced. Cold. Damn, it was so cold here.

  Chase grabbed at something on the ground and pushed it out of the way, shone his head torch at the ceiling and shook his head. ‘I know it hurts, but try not to think about it.’

  He paused as the haunting creaking of steel broke into the night. Then a crash and a plume of dust caught in the blue light. People screaming somewhere.

  Ethan’s heart pounded and he tried to move his legs to scuttle back away from the noise. But he was pinned to the floor. Get me out of here.

  ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘Just a bit of movement. It’s fine, it’s the other side of the building. Don’t panic.’ There was an edge to Chase’s voice now.

  ‘I’m not panicking. I’m so cold. And wet.’

  ‘Always moaning,’ Chase tutted, but he didn’t sound angry or hostile—which was new. ‘Here, take my hand.’

  Ethan heard the scrape of a ski jacket against wood and then felt Chase’s hand close over his. The warmth made Ethan’s hand stop shaking just for a minute or so.

  More loud creaks and Chase’s hand stiffened. A couple of breaths until the creaking stopped. ‘It’s okay, Ethan. Breathe.’

  That was the problem...he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. ‘How long have I been in here?’

  ‘Seven hours? Maybe eight?’

  ‘So long?’ No wonder he was cold. Maybe this was just a nightmare where he was dreaming he was trapped with the guy he hated most of all in the world in a space so cramped he couldn’t breathe. Maybe he’d wake up soon. ‘Where’s everyone else?�
��

  There was a silence long enough to make Ethan’s chest hollow out.

  ‘Out.’

  ‘Out? Thank God.’ He breathed away the dread of hearing anyone in the squad was injured or worse. ‘Everyone?’

  ‘All except you and... Nick. But he’s...he’s going to be fine.’ Chase’s voice did that weird soft thing again, but it also broke a little, telling Ethan that Nick wasn’t fine at all.

  ‘Why are you here, then, and not with him? You guys are such good mates you’re like an old married couple.’ In fact, it had been Nick they’d been arguing about outside the drying room. Same old stuff. Who was chicken, who was going to win, who was going to wipe out on the slalom. Just banter to fuel the competitive teenage aggression. That, and the fact Nick was always so damned sure of himself.

  He was a shoe-in for the British junior team, and Chase and Ethan and everyone else were fighting for a place alongside him. A couple of beats passed before Chase answered. ‘Sucks, right? But until help gets here you’re going to have to put up with me. Lucky for you I’m just the right size to belly-crawl through the one tiny hole between you and the outside.’

  ‘Lucky? I have a wall on my legs.’ But the others were safe. That was one good thing. Not choked up in here like him. Wait...if he was lucky then did that mean Nick hadn’t been? Had Chase chosen to help him and not Nick? What the hell? His head hurt too much to make any sense of it.

  ‘You’re talking, that’s something.’

  A sharp pain funnelled through Ethan’s lungs as he tried to inhale. It felt as if the blackness was filling him up from the inside too, stopping his breath. ‘I can’t breathe.’

  ‘If you can talk you can breathe.’ Chase tapped his hand. ‘When we get out of here, Reid, I’m going to whip your arse down La Sache.’

  ‘Yes, you will.’

  ‘Whoa. You always beat me down that run. Every single time. Where’s the fighting talk you like to give me? Bring it on, Reid.’

  ‘I can’t feel my feet.’

  Silence.

  Chase swore. Everyone knew a skier couldn’t ski if they couldn’t feel their damned legs. ‘Probably just the cold.’

  The panic he’d thought he’d got a hold of bubbled up through Ethan’s belly to his chest. He couldn’t feel his feet or his back. He couldn’t stop shaking. There was so much ice and wetness and blackness he was suffocating with it. He wanted to breathe fresh air. He wanted to be outside. Would he ever be warm again? He gripped Chase’s hand as water seeped through his clothes. ‘I don’t want to die. Not here and not like this.’

  Seventeen was way too young to die, he had a whole lot of living to do. Right?

  The next moment was filled with another ominous creak and the drip, drip, drip of snow melt. Chase inhaled loudly then huffed out as their world, which had shrunk to this twisted leaning lodge, stopped moving. ‘You’re not going to die, man.’

  ‘Face it, I’m freezing. I’m hurting. I’m stuck in a collapsed building.’ The parts of his skin that he could feel stung with such intensity it felt as if he was on fire. ‘Is it hot in here? I’m starting to burn up. Can you take the blanket away?’

  ‘There is no way you can be hot, it’s probably hypothermia. Listen to me, you have to hang on. Someone’s coming to get you out.’ Chase rubbed rough hands over Ethan’s palm. He stretched and wound his arm through the tiny gap between body and wall, and rubbed Ethan’s torso, encouraging blood flow. Then over his leg. Chest. Cheeks. And then he started again at Ethan’s hand. He worked for a few minutes then murmured, ‘Don’t you ever tell anyone I did this, okay?’

  ‘Your secret’s safe with me.’ Time to be honest. Because if you’re going to die, then why not? ‘I’m scared.’

  Ethan’s heart thumped and he fought to control himself, wishing he hadn’t said something so weak. He had to pretend he was okay, right? That he wasn’t scared. That everything was going to be fine, just as Chase had told him it would be.

  Chase beat him to it. ‘So, we’re ripping it up down La Sache. It’s one of those perfect days, you know, where the sky is so cloudless and blue it’s almost as dazzling as the powder. And you’ve got your best form, right? Everything’s going perfectly—’

  A deafening crash broke him off. The earth shuddered under Ethan as more of the lodge—close enough for them to feel the whip of air and backdraught—collapsed.

  ‘Get out, Chase. Go. Before the whole place comes down.’

  But instead of retreating, Chase edged closer, holding Ethan’s hand tightly. ‘You’ve got your best form on, right? La Sache. You make three perfect turns. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoo—’

  Another crash. Chase’s breathing got faster. ‘Okay. Looks like we’ve got to do something. Fast.’ Chase directed his head torch onto the beam. ‘Right. Let’s try this again.’

  Turning tightly in the cramped space, he lifted his knees, pressed his feet against the broken beam and heaved. Heaved some more. ‘Anything? Any movement at all?’

  ‘No.’ Ethan pushed and tried to wriggle his body free, but every time Chase moved, clumps of dust and ceiling fell around them like confetti.

  ‘On my count...’ Chase glanced up at the ceiling, such as it was, illuminating it again, and they both saw the whole thing ripple like a wave as he moved. Any minute now the place would come down on top of them, suffocating them. ‘One. Two. Three.’

  The beam shifted enough for Ethan to drag one leg free. ‘Yep. Almost.’ Another creak. ‘Go. It’s too dangerous. Leave me here. Get the hell out, I don’t need you on my conscience.’

  But Chase shook his head and tightened his hold on the beam. ‘The rents are going to be so relieved when we get you out of here. Can’t wait to see their faces.’

  ‘My parents are here?’ Ethan knew Chase was trying to distract him from the task in hand, keeping him talking, keeping him alive.

  ‘Mr Wheeler said he was going to call everyone’s parents. They’re flying them all out here.’

  ‘Okay. Tell them...’ What to say? He doubted they’d even turn up, but just in case they did Ethan chose his last words to his parents very carefully. ‘Tell them I forgive them.’

  ‘I’m not passing on any message, you can tell them yourself. And there will be media too. There always are at things like this. You’re going to be famous. The boy who lived, right?’

  ‘And who are you? Freaking Hermione?’

  ‘In your dreams, Reid.’

  Little falls of dust trickled over them. Outside someone was shouting at everyone to keep still.

  ‘Ne bouge pas. Attendez! Attendez!’

  More French.

  He hated French. He hated snow. He hated being trapped. He didn’t want to die.

  Panicked voices. A siren. More sirens.

  But Chase caught Ethan’s eye. Determination shone there as he nodded. ‘Right, let’s go again. I never thought I’d say this to you but, Ethan, I need you to work with me. Everything you’ve got, okay? Or you and I will die here and that, my man, is not the way I want to go. One. Two. Three.’

  Next thing he knew Ethan was being dragged over brickwork and snow and something he didn’t even want to imagine but which felt soft and yet bony. And then he was hauling fresh air into suffocating lungs and watching the place where he’d been two seconds earlier disintegrate into rubble and dust and nothing.

  And he breathed, sucking in huge gulps of air.

  He breathed.

  He was alive. Chase Barrington had saved him.

  And that was something he’d never have believed possible.

  * * *

  Later, as the paramedics worked on him, he watched Chase talk to one of the newly arrived search and rescue guys. Saw the slump of his shoulders. The hand whisked across his eyes. Then his view was obliterated by a sudden convoy of vans. Tearful parents pouring out, screaming and sobbing. He craned his neck
for his mother or father.

  No.

  As he’d imagined. He wondered what he’d have to damned well do to get their attention at all.

  Then, as he was being shunted into the ambulance, Ethan saw Chase walk away from a woman, leaving her sobbing into the dark night. Ethan called out, ‘Chase! Chase.’

  Chase turned and looked, then he turned away and walked into the darkness.

  ‘Chase!’

  But then he was there. Looming up in front of him as he had in the tight, dark prison a few minutes earlier, but the bravado from before had gone. He had red rings around swollen eyes. A gruff expression. Hell, he was just a seventeen-year-old kid living a nightmare. Like me. ‘Look, Reid, I gotta go.’

  Ethan held up his hand to stop the paramedic from closing the ambulance door. ‘And Nick?’

  Chase shook his head and his words came out on a sob that he coughed away. ‘He didn’t...make it. That’s his mum. She’s broken. He was her only child.’

  The paramedic fiddled with the drip and then said softly, ‘My count was four. I’m so sorry, buddy.’

  Four dead? Four of the team? His brothers in sport, if nothing else. Ethan’s heart twisted as his gaze settled back on Chase. ‘But you told me they were safe.’

  ‘I told you they were out.’ Chase shrugged. Empty. His best friend had been in danger and he’d chosen to save someone else’s life. How would that make you feel? You had a chance and you didn’t take it. You bet on someone else. On the someone you didn’t even like.

  ‘But you made me think they were alive. I thought they were safe.’

  ‘You needed something to hang onto.’

  And he’d hung on tight. ‘I’m so sorry about Nick. I heard the conversation. I heard you make a choice. No one should ever have to do that.’

  ‘You were closest.’ Chase’s face clouded, the way it did when they fought. The way it did in their stand-offs. The way it had just a few hours ago when he’d been trying to make Ethan apologise in their stupid argument. Chase’s hands fisted as he wrestled some emotion or other away. His best friend had died and maybe he could have done something to prevent that. God knew how that felt. ‘You’d better be worth it, Reid. Make it worth it.’