‘Not likely. It could hang around for days.’
‘But the light’s so pretty at the moment.’ Maggie jammed a woollen hat on her head, hauling it down to squash her hair into submission. ‘Besides, these guys are ready for their walk. See?’
Hugo moved from the kitchen until he could see his three elderly farm dogs waiting patiently by the front door. A surge of renewed youth was apparent when Maggie stepped in their direction. Tails wagged, toenails scraped on the tiled entranceway and Seth even produced a muffled woof of excitement. Maggie laughed and raised the plastic bag she held further out of reach.
‘Not for you,’ she informed her canine fan club. ‘These crusts are for the fish, as you should know by now.’
Hugo smiled as he reached for his own protective clothing. The dogs knew perfectly well they would get a share of the stale crusts. Maggie was a sucker for a soulful stare. And Hugo was a sucker for Maggie’s enthusiasm. She was quite right—the light was perfect and what did it matter if they were risking a spot of frostbite? These days, aspects of his life that were familiar enough to be enjoyed with quiet pleasure, tempered with due caution, became somehow charged with a life of their own and had become more exciting than Hugo remembered them ever having been in the past.
Like a hoar frost. He led Maggie up the roadway a little so that she could see its effects on the wire fences, the wild gooseberry and briar rose bushes and the winter skeletons of deciduous trees. The formations of ice crystals glittering in the early light were far more spectacular than Hugo had ever seen. Or was he just looking through Maggie’s eyes instead of his own?
‘I feel like I’m in the depths of Narnia,’ Maggie said in awe. ‘The white witch is about to appear over that hill in her sleigh and turn us to stone with a wave of her wand.’
Hugo just grinned. She’d need a turbo-boost in her wand to deal with the sheer joie de vivre Maggie was exuding at present.
‘Oh, look!’ Maggie was open-mouthed now, pointing to a tree branch that appeared festooned with starry white flowers. ‘How does it do that?’
‘Hoar frost accumulates slowly,’ Hugo told her. ‘Interlocking crystals grow out from a seed. In perfect conditions, like this, they grow into these fern and flower shapes. Look at the fence over there.’
‘It looks like a shredded lace curtain hanging from the wires. It’s amazing, Hugh.’
‘Amazingly cold.’ Hugo could feel the tips of his fingers and toes protesting, despite their layers of wool. ‘Let’s head for the beach and get those fish fed.’
The whisper of a breeze wasn’t yet enough to mar the mirrored surface of the lake with ripples. The thin tendrils of mist gave the lake a mystical quality that competed with the magic of the frozen landscape they left behind, and the old wooden jetty near the woolshed was almost as thickly coated with frost as the trees had been.
‘Don’t go near the edge,’ Hugo warned. ‘It’ll be dangerously slippery.’
‘I’ll just go as far as the fish,’ Maggie nodded. ‘Don’t worry.’
Feeding trout had never been a habit for Hugo. He wouldn’t have thought of doing it from his own jetty but Maggie had been enchanted by the eager schools that were accustomed to being fed by tourists from the main jetty in Queenstown.
‘We could do that,’ she had suggested to Hugo. ‘I’ll bet it wouldn’t take long for you to attract a whole bunch of trout.’
It had taken longer than Maggie had anticipated but she had persevered over the last couple of weeks, throwing crumbs of stale bread from the end of the jetty. The first, shy response had been enough of a thrill to reward her efforts and now Maggie triumphantly counted each increase in numbers.
‘I can see four…no, six trout!’ she called excitedly a minute later.
‘Don’t go any further out,’ Hugo warned. He was watching the dogs who were on the jetty with Maggie, waiting for a crust to drop before it reached the water.
‘OK.’ Maggie stood carefully in the centre of the wooden platform. She scooped out the last of the bread and hurled it towards the end of the jetty. Only half of the handful made it into the water and the dogs launched themselves to claim the rest.
‘Lass!’ Hugo shouted. ‘Seth, Tuck…Come back here.’
He whistled sharply. Tuck and Seth responded reluctantly but Lass kept going. She planted her paws to brake at the first titbit but it was too close to the end of the jetty and the ancient wood was far too icy. The dog skidded into the misty air and fell into the lake with a splash that echoed in the silence.
‘Lass!’ Maggie yelled. ‘Oh, no!’
‘Maggie!’ Hugo’s shout was as commanding as he could make it but he knew it was too late. Maggie was headed for disaster just as surely as she had been the time she’d tried to fly with her fairy wings off the back of the sofa. Lass was already swimming the short distance to safety but Maggie couldn’t see the dog beneath the slats of the jetty because she was moving too quickly in the opposite direction. Far too quickly for her hiking boots to have any hope of finding purchase on the last few wooden planks. The splash Maggie made as she hit the surface of the lake several feet below was a far larger and more ominous sound than the previous one had been and, with her extra weight augmented by bulky winter clothing, Maggie sank like a stone.
The shock of the icy water temperature transmitted itself as pain to every fibre of Maggie’s body and time seemed to stop as she tried to fight her way back to the lake’s surface. How could it be taking so long? She knew the lake wasn’t that deep—the bottom was always visible on calm days with a startling clarity that allowed the colour of individual stones to be seen. More than once she had imagined throwing herself off the jetty and looking forward to the embrace of cool water on a hot summer’s day. She had never imagined trying to swim in winter, however, or weighed down by layers of clothing that now felt as though they were trying to drown her.
As her head broke free Maggie knew the passage of time had been distorted by her fear. She could see Lass paddling furiously back to shore and it must have taken only seconds for her to have covered that distance. She could see Hugo walking into the edge of the lake as well, clearly intent on rescuing her.
‘I’m OK,’ she shouted. ‘Stay there, Hugh. Don’t get wet!’
The grim expression on his face indicated that Hugo had no intention of listening. Maggie put her efforts into swimming towards him instead. The intense cold was making it difficult to breathe and she had to pause after only a few strokes, but at least now her feet could touch the bottom. And Hugo hadn’t been silly enough to dive in. He was only wet to his thighs so far.
‘I’m OK,’ Maggie gasped again. ‘See?’ She walked through the water using her hands as paddles to increase her momentum. She couldn’t say anything more before her teeth began chattering violently. Hugo grabbed her hand as soon as she came close enough and he towed her to the shore. Then the rest of her body followed the lead of her teeth and started shaking so hard that Maggie knew she was in trouble. Hugo caught her as she stumbled. He swung her up into his arms without any apparent effort and didn’t pause, turning towards the house and whistling for Lass who was still shaking the water from her shaggy coat. Hugo strode across the pebbles of the beach, carrying Maggie in a grip that felt like steel bars.
‘You idiot, Maggie,’ he said furiously. ‘You bloody idiot.’
‘S-s-s-sorry.’ Their movement was stirring the air around them and Maggie could feel the chill factor increase alarmingly. Her hands and feet were completely numb now and it was still difficult to breathe. It took only minutes to reach the safety of the house but Maggie knew her body temperature was still dropping rapidly. She could feel her thought processes slowing and was vaguely bemused when Hugo carried her, dripping, into the hallway and past the door that led to the warmth of the fire.
‘W-where…are w-we…going?’
‘You’re going into a hot shower,’ Hugo snapped. He deposited her onto the closed lid of the toilet and reached into the shower cubicle to twist the water mix
er. ‘That’ll be hot in thirty seconds,’ he said. ‘Get your clothes off and get in there.’
‘B-but—’
‘No “buts”,’ Hugo growled. ‘Have you any idea how cold the water in that lake is? And then you get out into sub-zero air temperature. You’re probably seriously hypothermic already.’
Maggie held up her arms, the sodden gloves covering hands that no longer functioned. ‘B-but, Hugh,’ she stuttered, ‘I…c-can’t.’
The sound Hugo made could have been a groan. It might have been a curse but Maggie couldn’t have cared less. She wasn’t even embarrassed as Hugo patiently peeled off her clothing, item by item. Her toes looked dead, bloodlessly white with the bright nail polish she hadn’t taken off after the fancy-dress ball decorating the tips with blood-red splashes. The wet denim of her jeans scraped her legs painfully and then joined the pile of boots, socks, jacket and jersey. Hugo’s own hands seemed too cold to deal with the tiny buttons of her shirt and Maggie felt a ridiculous urge to giggle as she saw them ping free and scatter on the tiles. Then Hugo was pulling her to her feet and pointing her through the clouds of steam towards the shower cubicle.
‘Get in,’ he ordered. ‘It doesn’t matter about your underwear. Stay in there until you feel warm.’
The rain of heat was initially unbearable as Maggie’s feet and hands came agonisingly back to life. Then it was wonderful and Maggie just stood there, basking in the warmth until her fingers were mobile enough to undo the catch on her bra and find the edge of elastic on her knickers. She discarded the wet items on the floor of the shower.
‘You OK?’ Hugo was calling from the other side of the open bathroom door.
‘I’m fine,’ Maggie called back.
‘Get out and get dry,’ Hugo instructed. ‘I’ve put your electric blanket on. You’d better go back to bed until you’re properly warmed up.’
It sounded like a wonderful idea to Maggie. The effect of reheating the surface of her body on top of the deep chilling and the fright she’d had was giving her a curious and overwhelming lassitude. Wrapped in fluffy towels, Maggie staggered down the hallway towards her bedroom barely able to keep her eyes open. They were actually closed when she felt Hugo grip her arms.
‘Come on, then. Into bed.’ The corner of the duvet was turned back and the pillows looked soft and inviting. ‘Where are your pyjamas?’
‘Don’t have any,’ Maggie mumbled. She pulled the towel from around her body and half fell into her bed, her head still swathed in another towel.
Hugo drew in a sharp breath as he pulled the duvet up to cover Maggie. If he’d had any belief that he was in control of his body’s reaction to this woman, the sight of those slim, pale legs and her small, firm breasts had shattered it. The final straw was those cheerful scarlet toenails that brought an instant image of Maggie looking like a naughty harem escapee. He had to get out of this room but he couldn’t leave until he was sure Maggie was all right. And he didn’t want to leave anyway, damn it!
The softness and warmth of the bed were heavenly. Only one thing could make it better as far as Maggie was concerned. She reached up and caught Hugo’s hand as he pulled the duvet over her shoulder.
‘Come to bed with me, Hugh,’ she murmured drowsily.
‘Maggie!’
‘You’re cold, too. Look—you haven’t even taken your wet jeans off.’
‘I will in a minute. I was getting Lass dried off.’
‘Do it now.’ The aftermath of the disastrous dip seemed to have tipped Maggie into a state where she didn’t care if Hugo knew how she felt about him. She wanted him to know and, above all, she wanted him to feel the same way. Nothing else mattered at that moment. ‘Please, Hugh,’ Maggie’s teeth were chattering again and the words came out as a stutter. ‘I n-need you.’
She did need him. Hugo could see that in her face. And when he thought about it she must have had a dreadful fright, falling into that icy lake. She needed some emotional warmth just as much as anything physical, and who better to give her a comforting cuddle than himself? Besides, Maggie was right. He needed to get his wet jeans off. His legs were frozen.
‘Just for a minute, then. Until my legs warm up.’
Maggie watched his fingers fumble with the stud on his jeans and then open the zip and peel the stiff fabric away from his skin. This was perfect! The drowsiness was being fired through with tendrils of excitement now. She had had so many dreams like this. Could it be that they were actually going to come true? The icy skin on Hugo’s legs had never been part of any fantasy but this reality was so much better. Somehow Maggie had known just how perfectly she would fit, snuggled against Hugo’s body, with her head in the hollow of his shoulder and his arm holding her so close. She closed her eyes in sheer bliss and let her hand travel up beneath the shirt Hugo hadn’t removed yet.
Hugo gritted his teeth as he felt Maggie’s fingers brush his bare skin. Her hands still felt cold which was why his nipple hardened so convulsively even before she touched it. Then he used his free hand to capture hers. Who was he trying to kid?
And what the hell had he been thinking of to torture himself in quite this fashion? He wanted Maggie so badly. The prospect of being able to hold her like this under the guise of providing a bit of extra body warmth and some brotherly comfort had been too tempting an opportunity to resist, but now he realised he might well have bitten off far more than he could chew.
‘This is nice, Hugh,’ Maggie murmured.
‘Mmm.’ The response was somewhat strangled and Hugo kept a firm grasp on Maggie’s hand. He had better make damned sure it didn’t stray in any new direction or Maggie would discover only too easily just how ‘nice’ his body was finding the experience. Why had he put himself here again? Oh…yes. ‘You’re quite safe now, Maggie,’ Hugo said comfortingly. ‘Are you feeling any warmer yet?’
‘I feel a bit weird,’ Maggie admitted.
‘In what way?’
‘Kind of sleepy.’
‘That’s only to be expected. You’ve had a nasty fright and a period of hypothermia. A good sleep is just what you need.’
‘But I don’t feel tired,’ Maggie said. ‘That’s what’s weird. I feel…excited.’
Hugo gritted his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache as he felt Maggie’s move to snuggle even closer. Every cell of his body seemed attuned to hers and was currently shrieking in delight at the situation he’d engineered. Excitement barely scratched the descriptive surface here. He had to get away before he did something they would both regret. Hugo tried to inch away but the best he could persuade his reluctant body to generate was a general tightening of his muscles.
Maggie felt his body tense. ‘You’re not going yet, are you, Hugh? I’m still cold,’ she added unconvincingly.
‘This might not be the best way to warm you up.’
Maggie managed to free her hand. She used it to trace Hugo’s ribs and then curl around his waist to try and pull him towards her. ‘I think it would be a great way to warm up,’ she whispered.
Hugo had to summon every ounce of strength he had to fight this new temptation. But fight it he must. Maggie wasn’t herself at present. The physical and mental state she was in was probably comparable to being extremely drunk. And it was so like her to hurl herself into some new adventure or experience without giving the consequences any thought. Thank goodness he had already given the matter quite enough thought for both of them.
‘We have too much between us, Maggie,’ he said carefully. ‘Too many memories. Too much friendship and…love to risk ruining it all by throwing sex into the equation.’ He took Maggie’s hand and directed it away from his body. ‘Not that I’m not tempted,’ he added gently. ‘But it’s not just us that it could hurt, is it?’
‘Isn’t it?’ Maggie tried to focus on what Hugo was saying but it was hard to get past the fact that he was rejecting her. She was hurt already, damn it. Who else did she have to worry about? Donald? Donald meant nothing. He never would.
‘The
re’s Joan,’ Hugo reminded her. Or was he reminding himself? Using the stab of guilt that he hadn’t even thought of Joan as an obstacle until he’d been desperate. The guilt was tempered by a wave of gratitude that she was available. He could protect Maggie from herself now. And from him. The existence of another woman in his life was clearly enough to bring Maggie back to her senses.
‘Ah…yes. So there is.’ Maggie’s body seemed to be shrinking. Drawing into itself. The movement prompted Hugo to remove his enfolding arm and Maggie let her head flop onto the pillow. ‘Sorry, Hugh.’ She shut her eyes. ‘Forget I said anything.’
‘Consider it forgotten.’ Hugh had the opportunity he needed to escape but even now his body was considering rebellion. ‘Are you warm enough now, Maggie?’
‘I’m fine.’ Maggie’s eyes were firmly shut now. ‘I think I’ll go to sleep for a bit.’
‘Good idea.’ Hugo finally managed to force his body to move. The air felt astonishingly cold against his bare legs as he left the warmth of the bed. Something deep inside Hugo felt even colder. He stooped to pick up his wet jeans and then hesitated yet again.
‘Still friends, Maggie?’
‘Of course,’ Maggie said wearily. She rolled, turning her face away from him. ‘Still friends, Hugh.’
The dousing had the effect of subduing Maggie for days.
‘Are you sure you’re OK? You’re not brewing up pneumonia or something, are you?’
‘I’m fine.’ Maggie was stuffing folders into a rucksack. ‘I won’t be home for dinner tonight. I’m starting the new volunteer induction course. We have a two-hour lecture between seven and nine so I’ll just stay and work and catch up on the stock-take or something.’
‘Didn’t you finish that last night?’
‘No. By the time I got back from that call to Wanaka it was too late to do much.’ Maggie was looking around the living area. ‘Have you seen my boots anywhere?’
‘They’re under the table.’
‘Thanks.’ Maggie’s grin had a flash of her normal exuberance. ‘I’m a messy creature, aren’t I? Must be horrible for someone as tidy as you to have around.’
A Courageous Doctor Page 13