Winching up her own bra was clearly an impossibility because of her arm, but Jennifer dismissed any idea of asking Guy for assistance as soon as the thought occurred. He was far too concerned with getting himself respectable for greeting a rescue team, and Jennifer was now aware of the same vibes she’d had about following him away from the crash site in the aftermath of Digger’s death.
She was an unwanted liability. Guy had an agenda and he would far rather follow it alone.
The woollen top was manageable—just—but her skirt was still hanging over the chair. Jennifer tried to move again.
‘I can’t stand up,’ she said in dismay. ‘My feet feel like they’re full of broken glass.’
They had swollen again, far more than they had after the first day’s walking. Guy’s ankle wasn’t looking pretty either. He abandoned his attempt to fit a sock over badly discoloured and misshapen flesh, gave Jennifer a brief glance and then pulled her skirt off the chair and threw it to her just as the door of the hut opened.
‘Hi, there!’ The cheerful voice belonged to a small helmeted female. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Maggie!’ The smile on Guy’s face was warmer than Jennifer would have believed he was capable of, and she experienced a completely bizarre flash of sheer jealousy. ‘I wasn’t expecting you!’
‘I wasn’t expecting me either.’ The paramedic was unbuckling the top of a kit that looked like a tramper’s pack. ‘I had to get up at the crack of dawn for this. You owe me, Guy.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Actually…’ Maggie was smiling at Jennifer as she spoke ‘…we were all up anyway. The search-and-rescue effort to find you guys has had a lot of people losing sleep.’ She turned her gaze back to Guy and her smile faded. ‘Thank God you’re OK,’ she said quietly. ‘I heard the others weren’t so lucky.’
‘No.’ There was a moment’s silence before Guy cleared his throat. ‘This is Jennifer Allen, Maggie. She’s an emergency consultant. She’s got a fractured arm and her feet are a mess, but otherwise she’s OK. I imagine she could use some pain relief, though. She isn’t able to weight bear anymore.’
‘Hi, Jennifer.’ The smile was engaging enough for Jennifer to forget that flash of jealousy. ‘I’m Maggie Patterson and I’m a paramedic. You’ll meet my husband, Hugh, when you get to our ED at Lakeside Hospital.’ She pulled a blood-pressure cuff and stethoscope from her kit. ‘Can I check you out and get you comfortable before we head off? We’ll get you out first, seeing that Guy’s in better shape.’
Jennifer smiled back. So Maggie was married, was she? To someone called Hugh? ‘Sounds great,’ she said.
Now that their rescue was actually in progress and the ordeal almost over, Jennifer’s reserves of strength and independence seemed to simply desert her. For once in her life she was happy to give herself up to being cared for by others. The last few days had provided the most extraordinary experiences she was ever likely to have—and that included last night’s lovemaking with Guy Knight—but already they were taking on a dream-like quality and the relief to be leaving it all behind was overwhelming.
‘Sharp scratch now,’ Maggie warned. ‘Guy, be a honey and draw up that morphine for me, would you? We’ll give her some metaclopramide as well. I don’t want my patient getting airsick.’
The drug hit Jennifer like a slug of pure alcohol. Her head swam and the pain in her battered body began to recede.
‘This might make you pretty drowsy,’ she heard Maggie say. ‘I’ve given you a decent dose. You just try and relax and we’ll have you out of here in no time.’
Relaxation had been anathema to Jennifer for virtually her entire life. Spare time was wasted time, and if anyone had told her she would spend over forty-eight hours doing little more than sleeping, she would have shaken her head and smiled at the absurdity of the notion. To find herself awake and content to do nothing more than gaze at the view from her window was equally novel.
Mind you, the view was unparalleled. What other hospital on earth could offer patients this glorious panorama of craggy, snow-topped mountains? The alpine resort of Queenstown nestled at the edge of Wakatipu—a huge and mysterious, glacier-gouged lake at the foot of the Remarkables. Jennifer’s close brush with the realities of the rugged landscape in this part of South Island only increased her appreciation of her homeland, and this particular area was a jewel.
Not that she’d want to live here, of course, but it was a great place to visit, and thank goodness some people didn’t want to live anywhere else. The medical care she’d received at the gentle but highly competent hands of both Maggie and Hugh Patterson had been as good as she could have wished for in her own large department. Better, even, thanks to the caring staff who had both the time and inclination to become personally involved with their patients.
The district hospital wasn’t that isolated either, judging by the number of reporters who had flocked in as news of the survival of plane-crash victims became the story of the week. The first television film crew had been waiting when the helicopter had landed but Jennifer had been barely aware of their presence. She had spoken to several people since, however. Drowsy conversations snatched between long intervals of deep slumber, but they had been enough to provide news footage for television and front-page coverage in every major newspaper in the country.
Several of those newspapers lay discarded on the end of her bed, but Jennifer had no desire to scan them again. The sight of her photographs and reading her quotes had left her vaguely embarrassed. Why hadn’t Guy allowed his picture to be taken? Or given more than a terse comment about it being ‘No big deal. He’d only done what had to be done and they’d been bloody lucky.’
The impression that Jennifer was whingeing about how much of an ordeal it had been or that she was claiming the spotlight to further a personal profile was unavoidable and rather disturbing. It highlighted the vast difference between herself and Guy. He was a loner. A man of the mountains. She hated the absence of crowds and a hectic lifestyle. Her own life was calling her, signalling the end of this interlude of rest and recuperation.
Jennifer sat up. It was early evening, judging by the play of twilight on the mountain peaks outside. Not too late to get herself up and start moving enough to iron out the residual stiffness in her limbs.
Personal items had been brought here from the hotel in which the conference had been held, and Jennifer chose casual woollen trousers and a silk shirt, leaving one sleeve unbuttoned to accommodate the cast on her left arm. Stroking the soft warmth of the bright red Merino sweater she had purchased in the hotel boutique the day she’d arrived, Jennifer decided the hospital’s central heating system made it unnecessary. She certainly wasn’t intending to set foot outside.
It was, in fact, far more of an effort than she’d anticipated to simply get any distance along the corridor. Jennifer almost regretted not using the set of crutches the physiotherapist had left in her room. Her feet felt like wooden blocks with something unpleasantly sharp coating the soles. She would never have lasted even one more day out in the bush. Guy was right. They had been incredibly lucky.
Jennifer sank down onto the cushions of a small couch that marked the bend in the corridor leading to the main staircase. A nurse came out of a nearby room and paused, having spotted her.
‘You’re up, Jennifer! Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine, thanks, Sue. Thought I’d better test out my feet.’
‘You might be better to use those crutches to start with. Shall I get them for you?’
‘I’ll just have a rest for a bit. If I don’t make it back to my room, I’ll yell for help.’
‘Make sure you do.’ Sue’s smile acknowledged the unlikelihood of someone like Jennifer yelling for help. She walked away, passing the single rooms that led to the main ward. Guy had to be in one of those rooms, and at some point Jennifer would have to visit him to say goodbye. To thank him for saving her life.
But he hadn’t been in to see her and the embarrassment factor
was becoming increasingly hard to overcome. What could she say? ‘Thanks for saving me, Guy, and, oh, yeah, thanks for the sex. It was great.’
Jennifer’s soft snort was more for the unsuitability of the adjective than imagining its delivery. ‘Great’ didn’t touch the impact of that experience. It had been incomparable. Jennifer had never been touched quite like that—either physically or emotionally. The place in her soul that had been touched still felt raw, in fact, and Jennifer shied away from prodding it. Her smile was wry. Maybe she should make sure she was at the point of total collapse, having survived a life-threatening situation, before she went to bed with anyone else.
The thought was distasteful enough to be disturbing. Even more disturbing was the conviction that having experienced that extraordinary night with Guy she would never find anyone who had a hope of delivering anything remotely similar.
Guy Knight. Or should that be Night? Any visions of a medieval warrior riding to her rescue were easily replaced by the picture of that lean body, with flickering dim light playing over fluid muscles as it moved over hers.
Jennifer closed her eyes with a silent groan. No. There was no way she could just pop in to visit Guy for a casual farewell. But she couldn’t just leave without seeing him, could she? Why the hell hadn’t he taken the initiative and broken that barrier? Because he was also embarrassed? Because he wished it hadn’t happened? Because it wasn’t actually worth acknowledging as far as he was concerned?
Fingers of shame clutched at something deep and Jennifer snapped her eyes open to distract herself. She watched a couple of elderly women pause as they reached the top of the stairwell.
‘It’s tomorrow, isn’t it?’ one of them said.
‘The funeral? Yes.’ Her companion paused to unbutton a woollen coat. ‘My, it’s warm in here, isn’t it?’
‘So sad.’ The first woman rearranged her hold on a large handbag and a bunch of flowers. ‘He was the only real father that poor boy ever had.’
Jennifer’s interest quickened despite herself. So they were talking about Digger rather than Bill and Shirley. She would like to go to the funeral herself, but maybe it wasn’t appropriate. Not if Guy didn’t even want to talk to her.
‘He’s got no one now. No family.’
The woman holding the flowers sniffed audibly. ‘That isn’t a great loss if you remember his mother.’
The judgmental tone triggered something like anger in Jennifer. Memories of the kind of interference and gossip that were part of the fabric of a small community and one of the things she had been happy to escape. What had been so wrong with Guy’s mother? She’d been the woman Digger had loved, hadn’t she? Diana. ‘The goddess,’ he’d called her.
The women were moving towards Jennifer now so, despite their lowered voices, she could still overhear their conversation.
‘Such a shame he hasn’t married again. If anyone needs a family, that young man does.’
‘Well, he didn’t choose very wisely, did he? There’s plenty of nice local girls who would jump at the chance.’
Jennifer was given a curious glance and one of the women smiled, but neither said anything to her. They were still absorbed in their own interchange.
‘Maybe he’s too like his mother.’ The words faded as the women headed for what was presumably Guy’s room down the corridor. ‘He wants what he can’t have.’
The arrival of the two women seemed to have prompted an earlier group to finish their visit. Four middle-aged men and women came out of the room. Had Guy been having an endless stream of well-wishers? Had that prevented him from finding the time to visit her perhaps? More likely, being enfolded into the concern of his community had highlighted how different she was. She didn’t fit into his life and never would, so breaking any bond they had formed in their time together was inevitable. The timing of that break should not be of any great significance.
This group also paused near the stairwell as they put on extra clothing before heading out into the chill of an early October evening.
‘Was that her?’ someone asked in a stage whisper. ‘That hot-shot professor from Auckland?’
‘Yes. I recognise her from the papers.’
‘I hear it was her fault the flight plan wasn’t logged,’ a man said.
‘Yeah. Apparently Digger would have been OK if they’d found him a bit quicker.’
Jennifer gritted her teeth. Going to the funeral was definitely not a good idea. Did Guy blame her as well? Was that why he was ignoring her?
‘She reminds me of someone.’ One of the women was pulling a woollen hat over her short brown hair.
‘Yeah,’ her partner agreed. ‘Shannon.’
Who was Shannon? Jennifer wondered. The woman he’d married? Had Guy made love to her because she reminded him of his ex-wife? Embarrassment could turn into anger with surprising ease. Jennifer felt used. A snatch of the previous conversation she’d overheard returned. Guy was too like his mother. He wanted what he couldn’t have. His ex-wife, maybe.
‘Not really to look at.’ The group was finally moving away, thank goodness, but their voices floated up the stairwell to Jennifer’s now straining ears. ‘Though I suppose they’re both blonde.’
‘More a type,’ someone else suggested.
‘Yeah.’ The male voice sounded appreciative. ‘Flashy.’
‘Let’s just hope Guy didn’t fall for her.’ The faint female voice still managed to sound distinctly possessive.
Someone else clearly agreed. ‘We can do without that kind of trouble again.’
Jennifer struggled to her feet. No worries, she was tempted to shout after the group. She had no intention of trying to get any kind of foothold in Guy Knight’s life. He was welcome to his mountains and his protective, insular and probably ignorant community.
Jennifer couldn’t wait to get away.
Back to her real life. And the sooner the better.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Hugh Patterson was frowning. ‘You’re still going to need a lot of rest. I don’t want you trying to get back to work for at least a week. Preferably ten days.’
‘I’ll be far happier when I get home,’ Jennifer assured the doctor. ‘I’ll rest, I promise. And I won’t try going back to work too soon.’
‘Too soon’ was a nicely elastic term. Jennifer had every intention of getting back into a familiar routine as soon as she possibly could. She could get a lightweight cast put on her arm in a day or two and she should be able to function in some kind of useful capacity after that.
‘OK, then.’ Huge was smiling. ‘I’ll sort out the discharge paperwork first thing in the morning. When would you like a flight booked?’
‘What’s the first flight out tomorrow?’
Hugh shook his head but he was still smiling. ‘Maybe I’d better do that paperwork before I go home tonight.’
‘Thanks. I’d appreciate that.’
‘Don’t sneak off without saying goodbye, will you? Maggie would love to see you as well. She’s based in the ambulance station right next door.’
‘I’ll make sure I pop in and thank her. She was terrific.’
‘She is, isn’t she?’ Hugh’s quiet pride had the effect of making Jennifer feel even more isolated than her current location dictated.
She needed to escape. To reassure herself that she was still the same person she had been before she’d come here. A successful, respected and popular person.
Someone who mattered.
Sneaking off would have been a highly desirable course of action as far as avoiding Guy was concerned, but Jennifer would not allow herself to take the easy way out. Her flight was due to leave at 10:00 a.m. but the airport was very close to the hospital. Maggie had come in to say goodbye already so Jennifer left it till 9:30 a.m. to go to Guy’s room.
She was surprised to see an IV line attached to his arm and a cast on the foot raised on pillows. So the ankle had been fractured after all. How on earth had he managed that walk? She was also taken aback to see how pale
Guy looked. The colour of his skin made those dark eyes stand out, and Jennifer suddenly wished she hadn’t screwed up the courage to make this visit. She felt like a bug trapped in a tiny jar under scrutiny to determine her species.
‘They said you were doing fine,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘You don’t look fine.’
‘I got a bit of an infection in that cut on my leg. Hence the antibiotics.’ Guy tweaked the plastic line snaking from his arm. ‘This is coming out this morning. They’ll patch up the window in my cast and then I’ll be off.’
Off to Digger’s funeral probably.
‘I’m heading away myself.’ Jennifer dropped her gaze. The shame she felt now had nothing to do with the physical intimacy that had ended her time with this man. He’d been in far worse shape than she had realised, and she hadn’t even bothered getting down the corridor to see him. ‘I just wanted to come and…and thank you.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ Guy said politely.
‘I don’t really know what to say,’ Jennifer admitted. ‘You saved my life and I’m never going to forget that.’
She met his gaze again. It wasn’t just her survival she wasn’t going to forget. Not by a long shot. Should she say something about that night? Was he going to say something? She couldn’t look away. The understanding of what was unspoken was there quite clearly.
‘So it’s back to reality, then?’ Guy’s voice was very soft.
She nodded, unable to find any words. Their night together hadn’t been ‘real’ but then, she already knew that, didn’t she?
‘The nightmare’s over.’ Guy nodded as he broke the eye contact. ‘Almost over anyway. I’ve got a funeral to go to this afternoon.’
‘I know. I wanted to go but then I thought I wouldn’t be very welcome.’
‘Why not?’ The tone was disinterested.
‘I think people blame me for what happened. I mean the change of route that meant we weren’t found quickly.’ Jennifer bit her lip. If anyone had reason to feel bitter towards her, it had to be Guy. He’d lost the closest thing he had to a family member, hadn’t he? ‘I wish I could have done more,’ she ploughed on miserably. ‘I’m really so sorry about Digger.’
Her Emergency Knight Page 9