She nodded. “I know that. You have to go get help. I can’t get out of here on my own.”
She had just given him the easy way out, and it was probably the safe thing to do, but he hated the idea of leaving her alone for the next four to five hours. What kind of guy would he be, leaving the woman he loved to her fate? Loved? Where did that word come from?
“No way. It’s over two hours’ walk back to the village.” He took a deep breath and then told her, “I’ll get you out of there.”
“Patrick, no! Go to the village and get help.”
“If you really believe I’m leaving you alone for the next four or five hours, you got the wrong man. I will come and get you!”
Patrick fought back the nausea and panic that were threatening to overtake him. Angela needs me. I can do this!
Through the fog of dizziness he heard Angela’s voice: “Tie yourself to a tree with one of the ropes from the tent. Just in case you fall.”
She paused, and he could hear her labored breathing as she struggled to control her pain. “First sit down until you feel okay. Don’t forget to breathe. Once you get on the bridge, don’t look down. Ever. But don’t look at the horizon either. Focus on the spot directly in front of your feet. If you feel insecure, lie down and crawl across the bridge…”
He waited for her to continue, but she remained silent. “Angela?” When she didn’t answer, another type of panic crept into his soul. A panic that was much stronger than his fear of heights. God, please don’t let her die. Please let me rescue her.
Patrick did as she’d instructed him and wrapped one of the ropes from the tent securely around a tree and then his waist. That thin connection to firm ground helped him to regain control over his body. The first steps across the bridge weren’t as hard as he’d feared, but when he reached about midpoint, for a short moment he disobeyed her advice to look just at the spot in front of his feet and glanced down the chasm.
Instantly his vision blurred and his body froze, swaying like a tree in the wind. Thankfully, he remembered her next advice to lie down. Crawling on all fours felt slightly better and he managed to reach the other side, his heart palpitating staccato.
After breathing deeply several times, still sweating from the psychological strain, he approached her carefully to find that she was still breathing, apparently having blacked out from the pain. She was pinned not by one rock, but by a whole bunch of smaller stones as well.
With great care not to hurt her even more, he started removing the rocks. After an eternity, he finally removed the big rock pinning her down. He gently pulled her into his arms and stroked her cold and clammy cheek. She’s going into shock!
He was already worried about how to get both of them back across the bridge, but tossed that thought into the back of his mind. First things first. He laid her down once again and raised her feet up before rubbing his hands on her cheeks. When she slowly opened her eyes and smiled up at him, his heart wasn’t big enough to contain the emotions he felt. Love. Gratitude. Pride.
“You made it.”
“Yeah. Nothing was going to keep me from getting to you.” He smiled at her, a feeling of warmth invading his chest. “Can you sit up?”
She nodded and with his help, she sat up and managed to keep herself upright.
Patrick let her rest for a moment and then asked, “Can you walk?”
“Yes.” She let him help her to her feet, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate and she had to sit back down. Seeing that she still had her backpack on, he slid it gently from her shoulders and then sat down on the ground beside her.
“Do you still have chocolate bars in there? This might be the perfect time to eat one.”
Despite her bad condition she had to laugh and nodded her head. They each ate a bar.
He could still feel the trembling in his body, but being near to Angela gave him strength and her chocolate bar had, in fact, calmed his nerves.
Patrick eyed the bridge and the steep descent that would take them back to the village. How on earth am I going to get her back there? And if she needs a hospital, how much longer will that take?
Angela saw the worry on his face, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. “You are my hero.”
He blushed with pride, but immediately turned his mind back to their predicament. They needed to get back to the main path, but that would mean going around the rockslide. When he stood up and then reached down for her, he accidentally touched her bad arm and she squealed in pain.
“I’m sorry! Let me have a look at your arm.” She just gave him a painful nod and he inspected her swollen and horribly wounded arm. As her wound was bleeding he ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt and put a makeshift bandage on. At least it seemed not to be broken.
“We need to get going, it’s not safe here.”
“I can walk if you hold me.”
“Okay. Let’s give it a try.”
He tied the rope to her as well, and tossed her backpack over to the other side of the chasm.
“Ready?”
Chapter 21
Angela worried. Not about herself. Even though she was having difficulties breathing and the pain almost killed her, she was worried about him.
His face was pale with fear he stared at the stone bridge like a rabbit fixated on a snake, and even though he tried to hide it, she could see he was trembling and almost unable to control his body. Fear is such a wicked thing!
She clung to him tightly, using her good arm, sending him her confidence and getting back his strength at the same time. Holding her breath, she prayed that both of them would reach the other side okay. Now this is my all my fault! For stupidly running away from him. Slowly they walked over the bridge and when they reached the other side she finally gave way to the tears trapped in her eyes.
“Darling, don’t cry, we will make it. The worst part lies behind us.”
She sobbed some more. “I’m sorry I ran away and endangered us both.”
“Shhhh…calm down, darling.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave her a soft kiss before he whispered, “I love you, Angela. Don’t ever run away from me again, okay?”
She could only nod. How did she deserve a man like him? The walk over the bridge had exhausted her and all she wanted was to lie down, but she knew they couldn’t stay here. It wasn’t safe.
Patrick was busy digging through their backpacks, stuffing things in his pants pockets. “I’m only going to take what fits in my pockets.” He tucked some granola bars and some water bottles into the pockets of his pants and then helped her back to her feet.
“What about our packs?” she inquired through clenched teeth.
“We’ll send some boys from the village to retrieve them. Now, sit back and relax as much as possible.” He alternated between carrying her over the more difficult terrain, lifting her up onto his back and trying not to jar her injured arm, and letting her lean on him during the easy parts. She bit her lip, the inside of her cheek, and dug her fingernails into her palms to help stifle her cries of pain.
The trek back to the village took them almost three hours. Three hours of agony for her and three hours during which Patrick grow more and more concerned for her.
The village had survived the earthquake without any major destruction or damage. Most of the huts were standing, and only a few of the statues designed to ward off evil spirits had toppled over.
Patrick gave a shout for help as they neared the village, and the villagers came running to their aid. Two of the younger men spoke to him and then headed back up the mountain.
“Where are they going?” she asked.
“To retrieve our backpacks.”
Then they were ushered into one of the huts. Patrick helped her sit down and brushed her damp hair off her forehead. “How you doing?”
“I’ve been better.” That was a blatant understatement; she’d never been worse in her life. All she wanted was to lie down and sleep. The pain had increased with every step
and her arm was horribly swollen and turning black. She had a nasty cut running from the curve of her shoulder, down past her elbow, ending up just before her wrist.
The villagers themselves were disconcerted and very alarmed by the trembling of the earth. As she listened to Patrick describe what had happened, her eyes fluttered closed, and his voice lulled her into an uneasy sleep.
***
Patrick watched Angela’s eyes close as he tried to explain the workings of an earthquake to the curious and concerned villagers. He was still shaken, but proud of himself as well. He’d conquered his greatest fear to save the woman he loved.
Something had changed between them. There was more implicitness in their actions towards each other. He could not say exactly what it was, but boy, did it feel terrific.
She had referred to him as “my hero” several times, and each time, his heart had swelled. But now his first priority was to get her medical help. She’d managed the gruelling hike, but even with his help it had been too much for her and he could see now how exhausted she was. It was best to let her sleep a few hours before tackling the walk to his car and the uncomfortable ride to the nearest hospital – in Kathmandu. Once we’re on the road, she’ll be in professional care in no time at all.
The women in the village had ushered him out of her hut and helped her to a bed. After washing and bandaging the wound on her arm, they had given her tea, brewed with the leaves of a natural pain killer. Gosh, he wished he could do something more for her, anything. But there was no such thing as modern medicine in these remote villages.
He spoke of his plans to the chief, of letting Angela rest for an hour or so and then setting out for the capital, but his hopes were soon crushed.
“That is not possible.”
“Why not?”
“No access.” The chief said something to the man seated next to him and a few moments later he returned with another man in tow.
Right after the earthquake, the chief had sent someone to Ilam for news. The teahouse had phone and Internet service and he’d hoped to get news about some of their loved ones in Kathmandu. But the young man had returned with bad news.
The main bridge leading to the city had collapsed and there was no way to cross the river by car or even on foot. Not in the next few days, probably not even in the next few weeks.
“So, it could be a while before they get the bridge fixed?” Patrick asked, already knowing the answer to his question. Nothing got done in Nepal in a hurry.
The chief nodded his head and then left Patrick to his own thoughts. We are trapped here. He closed his eyes as the enormity of their situation weighed on him.
He wished he had his backpack and access to his satellite phone, but the men hadn’t returned yet with their packs. It’s not like you’d know who to call. Any of the emergency services available in Kathmandu will have already been deployed to help with the most damaged areas.
For now he couldn’t do anything but wait – and pray. He entered the small hut where the women had taken Angela and found her sleeping. She looked so peaceful; something twisted deep inside him. She has to be the most beautiful woman in the world. And she’s perfect for me. I don’t care what it takes, but I’m going to prove to her that love is worth the risk.
As the sun set, the young men returned with their packs, and Patrick rushed to call his mother to let everyone know he was fine. But the travel monster was one step ahead of him - his phone battery was dead, and there was no way to charge it up in the village. Shoot, I have to go to Ilam first thing in the morning.
He grabbed a sleeping bag and settled himself on the ground outside the hut where Angela slept. He didn’t want to spend the night away from her, in case she needed him, but he couldn’t risk sleeping inside the hut with her, lest the villagers think badly of her.
Patrick fell into an uneasy sleep, cursing the fact that he couldn’t do anything until the next morning.
Chapter 22
Angela woke up the next morning, her arm burning like fire, but at least her total exhaustion had been cured by a good night’s sleep. She’d been dreaming about Patrick and now she scolded herself for being so foolish. Life was too short to waste. Both of them could have died up on that mountain. And wouldn’t it be better to enjoy every day to the fullest, even if their relationship might not last? Shouldn’t she at least give him a chance? And herself? What do I have to lose anyways?
Patrick entered the hut and smiled at her. “Hey lovely, you’re awake. Feeling any better?”
Angela’s heart raced when she looked at his sexy frame in the doorway., “A little.”
He squatted down next to the bed and then gently kissed her lips. His soft and caring kiss zapped through her like a bolt of lightning. “I’m so sorry you got hurt.”
“Patrick…about being friends.”
His face hardened and she could physically feel his pain, and it ached as much as her hurt arm. “Yes…”
“It was a mistake…I mean the friend thing…I…Life is too short to waste it and I want you, more than I wanted anyone ever before.”
Within seconds, a dazzling smile appeared on his face, like someone had switched on the lights. He hugged her close. A searing pain stabbed through her arm. “Ouch!”
“Angie, darling, I’m sorry. I must be more careful.“ He released her and sat beside her on the bed.
“Patrick, I can’t promise you anything. But can we take it slow? Just from day to day? Would that be okay for you?”
He made a move to hug her again, but stopped himself inches away from her and instead took her hands into his. “That is perfect. We don’t have to commit to forever right now.”
A few seconds later he said, “Let me look at your arm.”
Angela let him observe her arm, wincing when he lightly pressed here and there. The cut was red and swollen and it felt as if her skin was burning up. “I guess I should see a doctor about that wound.”
He stared at her very seriously. “I would take you to a hospital sooner rather than later, but the bridge between here and Kathmandu is out. It collapsed during the earthquake. There’s no way to get you to a hospital.”
She paled. She had no idea how bad or serious her injury was, but if the pain was anything to go by, it was definitely bad. “How bad does it look?”
“It’s probably okay. Awfully black and blue for just happening yesterday. And that cut’s deep enough you might need some stitches.” His voice and face, though, gave away that he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. It must be a whole lot worse than he admits.
“So what do you suggest?” she asked.
“I’d love to hike down to the teahouse in Ilam and at least let our families know that we are safe. But I don’t know if you’re strong enough to make the trek to where the jeep is parked.”
“Why don’t you go and I’ll stay here?”
“No way. I’m not leaving you alone.”
“The villagers take good care of me.”
“No.”
Angela saw that he wouldn’t give in and a part of her was thankful for it. Yes, the villagers were nice but communication was difficult, and she longed for the strength and confidence Patrick’s presence gave her.
“Okay. Why don’t we wait and see how I feel tomorrow? But you have to promise me to go alone if I’m not up to it by tomorrow.”
Patrick wanted to protest, but her suggestion was their best option. “Fine. We’ll wait until tomorrow.”
Padmini, one of the younger village women entered the hut with two plates of the morning meal. “Namaste,” she offered them both.
“Namaste,” Patrick replied back. The food was typical of the remote Nepalese villages. Minimal meat, and lots of vegetables. And the staple – rice.
After seeing that Angela and Patrick were cared for, Padmini took her leave just as quickly. This left Patrick and Angela alone for the moment, and Patrick didn’t miss the blush that moved up over her cheekbones.
She allowed Patrick to help
feed her, her cheeks heating with embarrassment when she told him, “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t run away from you, I would have never gotten injured.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” He gently took her into his arms, being careful not to jar her arm. “I love holding you.” He held her for several minutes and then said, “Get some rest. I’m going to go take some more pictures, but I’ll stay within a few minutes’ walk, should you need me.”
Angela smiled at him. He was right, she was tired again and rest would help her to recover quickly. The wife of the chief entered as Patrick was leaving, and observed Angela with her piercing glance. “Mr. Patrick is a good man. Every woman would be happy with him.”
Angela nodded her head in agreement. “I know.”
“Mr. Patrick is very old and needs to marry soon.”
Angela raised a brow and stared after the woman as she exited the small hut as quickly as she’d entered. Patrick is old? Despite her pain she had to grin. So, he’s too old for me? Not too young?
Chapter 23
That night, Patrick slept in a hut other than the one where Angela slept, out of respect for the villagers. He was just starting to wake up when a young boy came in, urging him to hurry and dress. “Miss Angels is very bad.”
Patrick hurriedly shoved his feet into his hiking boots and followed the boy back to the other hut. He found Angela, obviously in the middle of a feverish delirium, and the wound where the rocks had pierced her skin was swollen, enflamed, and oozing fluid.
Padmini had cleaned the wound again and applied an herbal ointment, but that was the extent of the medical care the village could offer. His heart sunk as he sat by her bedside, watching her wincing and whimpering in her fever. What am I going to do? He willed the ointment to have some positive affect, but her fever worsened throughout the morning. In her waking moments, she clung to his hand, sending him a weak smile; his urge to protect her and care for her overwhelmed him. It’s incredible how much I love this woman.
She’d touched parts of his heart that had been reserved exclusively for his family, and he didn’t know he could love another person just as much as he loved them. Scratch that – love Angela more than his family. It tore his heart apart to see her suffer, and his helplessness made him angry. All he could do was to refresh her burning forehead with cold water and watch Padmini apply calf compresses to lower Angela’s fever.
Travel, Live, Love - A Contemporary Romance (The Armstrongs Book 5) Page 8