by Rula Sinara
But what gnawed at him most was that he couldn’t see the ones he loved. Pippa, Ivy and Fern. He couldn’t see them anywhere. A group of Maasai were clearing debris, lifting poles and moving them from a pile. The rubble didn’t match that of the Maasai huts. Plaster. A small plaster and possibly even concrete or stone building. Panic waved through his chest. They were buried. Dear God, they were under there.
He opened the jeep door and was ready to jump out before Alim skidded to a full stop. He ran with Alim at his heels and began moving debris at a frantic pace with the villagers.
“Are there people under here?” he asked as he grabbed a heavy chunk of dried mud and straw. “The women? Pippa and two girls. The girls look the same.” He didn’t know who spoke English and who didn’t, but he figured they’d recognize Pippa’s name.
“Yes! Yes! She was teaching here. And two girls helping.” The middle-aged man spoke with a heavy lilt, but Dax was relieved his English was good. The lines on his face looked taut and determined. He didn’t seem fazed by the bleeding gashes on his sandaled feet and upper arm.
“Is anyone else missing?”
“Two more children. Little ones. The other children Pippa was teaching said they were with her,” another one of the men clearing the rubble said. The way they tackled the debris...all Dax could think was that these men were truly warriors.
Dax heard a whimper, and his soul seemed to coil and catch in his throat. He moved another pole and beneath it was a hand, scratching at the rubble. Around the dust-covered wrist, he could make out a faint, delicate pattern.
“Ivy! It’s Dad! Talk to me, sweetheart.”
“Daddy!” She broke into sobs.
“Honey, can you move at all?”
A slew of possible injuries flashed in his head. Broken bones. Injured spine...
“I can’t move. Miss Pippa’s on top of me.”
On top of her? She’d protected his little girl with her body. Why couldn’t Pippa move? He tried to ignore the fear of death that stretched its bony fingers around his heart. More soft crying rose through the pile. He lifted another mass of caked mud and straw and some thatching and he found her lying there, hunched over. She wasn’t moving.
“Pippa!” If her back or neck were injured, he’d make it worse by picking her up. But he had no choice. The aftershocks could hit at any moment. They had to rescue the children. All of them. He positioned himself to lift her while supporting her spine. The others followed suit, ready to help. She twitched. At first it was such a small motion, he almost thought he’d imagined it. But then she gasped and arched slightly, trying to raise her body.
“I’ve got you. Pippa, I’m here. I’ve got you. We’re getting you out. Go slow.”
He slipped a hand under her and across her chest, and she reached up and grabbed his shoulder.
“Dax. The kids. Pain.” She winced as she straightened too quickly. He started to lift her out by her waist. She pushed at his arm and struggled. “No. I have to help the children.”
“Shh. We’ll get them out. Hang on to me.” The men helped lift her out safely and Dax carried her a few meters away and set her down. Her leg was swelling just above the ankle. He untied the laces of her boot and carefully slipped it off. She was very pale.
“I’ll be right back.” Several women crowded around her, checking on her. He wanted to hold her and comfort her. He couldn’t. Not yet.
He hurried back for Ivy, who was already getting rescued by the others. She made eye contact with Dax, and her face quivered like she was going to burst into tears. He took her in his arms and held her tight.
“It’s going to be okay. You’re okay.”
Alim helped lift another little girl out, and one of the women cried out and rushed to hold her.
“Mina!” No doubt the woman was the little girl’s mother. A horrifying experience for any parent. The one Dax had nightmares about. And now he was living through it.
“Ivy saved her. She was curled over her,” Alim said, his face wrought with emotion. Dax knew this had to be hitting him hard, too. Alim...a man who’d lost his children...was helping others save theirs. And Dax also knew that it had taken a lot for the guy to open his heart up to Ivy and Fern. He had been worried to death, too.
Dax kissed the top of Ivy’s head. His Ivy. Responsible and brave. She’d used her body to save a younger child and Pippa had used hers to protect them both. He felt pride, but he was only partially relieved. Fern was still missing.
“Thank you,” he told Alim. “You hear that, Ivy? You did good. I need you to come sit next to Pippa. She’s injured. Her ankle, but I think she may have a concussion, too. Stay with her. I need to help get Fern and the other child out.”
Ivy nodded, but her knees wobbled and almost gave out under her. He helped her to the ground next to Pippa and watched as they wrapped their arms around each other. Pippa rocked Ivy against her chest and looked up at Dax.
“I’m so sorry. I tried to get them all out. And when I couldn’t, I tried to protect them. But Fern was farther away.” Tears brimmed along her lashes, and she shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”
All Dax could do was step closer and kneel down. His eyes locked on hers, then he kissed her forehead. Then he held her cheeks and kissed her lips. It was light and swift, but it said more than any words ever could. He hoped she understood. It had to be enough for now.
He left her there with Ivy. Comforted that his daughter was with her. Scared like no man’s business that Fern might not be okay.
He started moving debris with the others. Someone was crying. It wasn’t Fern’s voice. It had to be the other little kid. But crying meant the little one was alive. Crying was good. He wished Fern would cry or call out.
Then he heard it. The singing. Soft and shaky...and haunting. He knew he’d hear it in his dreams for the rest of his life. The crying subsided, and everyone turned toward the sound of Fern’s voice. She and the younger child were singing the alphabet. His Fern, calming the other child. His amazing girls and the one amazing woman who’d set an example for them.
“Fern. We’re gonna get you out of there.”
Dax moved faster. He could see her hair now. A leg. Her voice was barely a whisper. But she’d spoken. She was going to be okay. His eyes and nose stung, and he curled his lips. They’d get through this. Everything would be okay.
“I see you, Fern. You’re both almost out.”
The singing stopped as they moved one last load. Fern sat cocooned around a little boy in what Dax guessed would have been the corner of the room. A small table was perched at an angle over them, giving them just enough protection from falling debris.
“Daddy.” Her voice cracked, but her face was dry and lips pressed in a line that said she was ready to do whatever was needed. His shy Fern, holding down the fort. Showing strength under pressure. Heaven help him, she was showing more inner strength in this moment than he had had in years. She moved to help lift the boy over to Dax and the child’s father.
“Is he all right?” Dax asked the father as he pressed his son to his chest.
“Yes. Yes.”
Dax reached back in, pulled Fern into his arms and held on tight.
“Tell me you’re okay.”
“I...I’m okay.” She looked over and saw her sister and Pippa, then rushed over to hug them. Dax followed her and crouched down beside them.
“Pippa, do you feel faint? Any idea how long she was out, Ivy?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t long,” Pippa said. “It was the pain shooting up my leg. It made me feel light-headed, and I couldn’t move.”
“We need to get you to a doctor,” he said. He tore off his shirt and used it, along with a couple of flat pieces of wood scattered near them, to form a makeshift splint. “I wish we had ice or a cold pack.”
“I’ll be okay until help arrives. Sitting here feels bette
r than being buried alive.”
“Okay. I’ve got to go help Alim and the others make sure no one else is missing. Sit tight. Don’t panic if there’s more shaking. I’ll be right back.”
He hurried over to a group of women tending to an elderly man with a cut on his leg. Dax took the swath of material one of the women tore from the bottom of her wrap and bandaged the wound.
“Help will be here soon,” he assured them. The guy was going to need antibiotics on a wound like that. But all he could do now was stop the bleeding.
Alim ran to their jeep and got on his radio. He gave Dax a nod. Help was on the way. Everyone was out in the open. No one else was missing or badly injured. Even the village’s goats, albeit agitated and loud, were gathered in an open pen. He jogged back to where Pippa and the twins sat huddled together.
“You scared me to death. All three of you,” Dax said, crouching down.
“We shouldn’t have taken off without your knowing,” Ivy said.
“Sorry,” Fern added. “You always said dangerous things can happen at any time. You were right. We should have stayed at the lodge.”
Dax shook his head.
“No. Someone else is a lot wiser than me, and a lot smarter than I’ve been in a long time.” Pippa cocked her head when he looked at her. “And that very special person was right. Danger is out there, but we can’t let it rule us. If you girls hadn’t been here, those other two kids and all the other children might not have made it out okay. You were here at the right time. Maybe you were meant to be here. Who can say? Life’s about the unexpected and taking chances.”
“Like taking a chance on love?” Fern asked, as she elbowed Ivy. Dax smiled and threaded his fingers through Pippa’s. Her eyes fluttered shut, and a tear escaped from the corner. He wiped it away with his thumb.
“Like taking a chance on love.”
“You should kiss her, Dad,” Ivy whispered.
“I should, should I?”
Pippa kept her eyes closed, but her mouth curved into a smile.
“Yeah,” she said. “You should. I think you owe me one. And it might dull some of the pain.” She opened one eye and peered at him. Dax chuckled.
“I doubt one will be enough. Just don’t disappear on me and I’ll give you as many kisses as you want.”
“I for one am not going anywhere with this ankle,” Pippa said.
“I’m not—we’re not—going anywhere, either.”
It took a second for it to register on all their faces.
“Yes!” Ivy and Fern exclaimed simultaneously and hugged each other again.
Pippa narrowed her eyes at him.
“Do you mean what I think you mean? Don’t mess with me, Dax Calder.”
“I mean exactly what I said. I don’t want to leave you ever again. I want us to stay here. Live here. With you.”
“But what about all the danger and the risk of getting eaten by lions or swept away in a river during flood season or getting trampled by elephants or falling—”
He silenced her with a kiss, and this time it was slow and firm and everything wonderful.
“—in love?” she asked, breathless.
He rested his forehead against hers and held her hands to his heart.
“I’d die a million deaths if I could live each life with you.” He kissed her again. “Ivy, Fern. Would either of you have any objection to my asking Pippa to marry me...to marry us? Or to us living here, in Kenya, as a family, forever?”
The twins shook their heads emphatically.
“No objections! Do it. Do it. Do it...” He had to laugh at their chanting. It also drew the attention of their Maasai friends. Several of the women came over and clapped for Pippa.
“I do.”
They stopped at Pippa’s words. Two words. Two small words that had the power to change all four of their lives.
“I didn’t actually ask yet, but—”
She swatted his arm, and he laughed.
“Pippa Rose Harper. I love you more than life itself. From the moment I saw you, I knew life would never be the same again. You made it crazier, wilder and infinitely better. Would you marry us and face the future head-on with us, forever after?”
“Absolutely. I love you, Dax. I love all of you and never want to be without you,” she added, reaching out her hand and linking it with Ivy’s and Fern’s.
They all glanced up at the sound of a helicopter approaching.
“That’s my Uncle Mac’s chopper,” Pippa said. “I think I see my father in it, too.”
“Just in time. We need to get you to a doctor, but also so I can ask him for your hand.”
“Do guys really still do that?” Ivy asked. “I mean, you already asked Pippa, and she said yes.”
“Any guys who plan to marry my daughters better pass inspection and ask for my blessing. I owe Pippa’s father that same respect.”
“Don’t worry, Ivy and Fern. I’ll be there to keep him from scaring your future boyfriends too badly,” Pippa said with a grin.
“This is turning out to be the best day ever. Near-death experience and all,” Fern said.
The helicopter landed a safe distance away, and a second one appeared over a copse of trees. The villagers waved and called out that help had arrived. Ivy and Fern ran toward Mac and Jack, no doubt anxious to update them.
Dax scooped Pippa up into his arms. She flinched from the pain in her ankle, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face to his shoulder.
“You need something for the pain.”
“Your holding me is all I need.”
“Then I’ll be holding you forever. But there is one thing. You were unconscious for a few minutes back there, so what if you don’t really know what you’re saying? Tomorrow you could change your mind about marrying me. Or you might be suffering amnesia and have forgotten my many faults and how I pushed you away. I might have to ask you again, just to be sure.”
“Dax, nothing could make me forget you. Not a blow to the head, not time, not death or even the loss of all my senses, be they of mind or body, because even then, my soul would recognize you.”
“I knew, Pip. That first time we met. You turned around, and I couldn’t speak. For a moment, I couldn’t move. It was as if deep down, my soul knew it was you. That—as irrational and impossible as it all may seem—you were the one. And that the very next second would be the first step on our journey to forever.”
“Forever sounds good to me,” Pippa said.
She smiled up at him, a tender look in her green eyes. Her wild and dusty curls were matted with bits of straw, splinters and stuff he was a little scared to identify. Man, she was a beautiful mess. Life with her would be the best kind of adventure. He dipped his head and kissed her long and hard.
“Forever sounds good to me, too.”
EPILOGUE
Sixty years later
“TELL US THE story again, Baba Dax.”
Dax’s weathered hand shook as he patted Nivia, the youngest of his five great-grandkids, on the shoulder.
She was the spitting image of her great-grandmother. Mama Pip, as everyone called Pippa. He could still remember the day Nivia was born. From day one, she had more hair on her head than he’d ever seen on a newborn, and within a month, there was no question she’d inherited Pippa’s corkscrew curls, as well. Those auburn curls must have skipped a few generations, because their daughter, Sienna, had jet-black hair as straight as the blades of elephant grass that swayed gracefully when the winds caressed the savanna, and her eyes were as blue as the sky over the Serengeti. And her kids looked just like her.
But Pippa was still in Sienna. She was in all of them...from her wild spirit, to her wide-open heart, to that gleam in her eyes when she’d taken it upon herself to infuse life with a little mischievous fun.
“
Which was your favorite part?” he asked all of them—Nivia, as well as her cousins, Ivy’s and Fern’s teenage grandkids.
His mind wanted to tell it all, but his body ached and his breath was tired and slow. Sitting with his grandchildren was the best part of his days now, but he needed to sleep, just for a little while.
Just long enough to see her again in his dreams. Just long enough to taste the sweetness of her kisses, smell her rain-fresh scent after hiking in a storm, hear her scold him for eating all the cookies she baked...and touch her soft skin. Even in her last days, her face had been rich and beautiful with lines that ran like deep rivers, filled with life and secrets. Every wrinkle told the story of her life...and his. He wanted to live it again. Or start the next one with her. A new adventure. But every night, she instructed him to wait. To be patient. She wasn’t going anywhere. She’d be waiting for him when the time was right.
For now, she wanted him to enrich the life of their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. That was Pippa. Always looking out for others. And he would stay awhile longer, because he loved them and he still loved her and wanted to grant her wish.
“He’s sleeping again,” Malia whispered.
He stretched one eye open and looked at Fern’s thirteen-year-old granddaughter.
“No, I wasn’t,” he grumbled. “I was just resting my eyes.”
“We can leave if you’re tired.”
“Nonsense.” Dax tried to sit a little straighter. He cleared his throat and coughed twice. He hated the dust. It was everywhere.
“So which part did you want me to tell again?” Dax asked.
“The part when you kissed and proposed after the earthquake,” Malia said with a wistful look in her eyes.