A Single Dad to Rescue Her
Auteur
Sue MacKay
Lezers
15,1K
Hoofdstukken
12
PROLOGUE
KAYLA JOHNSON COUGHED out a mouthful of snow and forced her eyes open enough to blink into yet more snow. Her arms were jammed against her sides, preventing her from wiping her face clear. What the hell? This was weird. Frightening. She was immobilised, not sure where she was. Scary. What had happened?
Wake up, Kayla. It’s a nightmare.
Except her arms didn’t move. This was real.
‘Help. I—I’m stuck,’ she shouted, except it came out as a croak.
How long had she been out for the count? Was she really awake? Or was this truly a nightmare? Trying to move proved she was awake and this was real. Didn’t it? Deep breath, pain in her lungs. ‘H-help.’
‘Hello? Anybody there?’ A booming voice cut through the cracking sound of restless snow.
‘H-here.’ Waving might catch someone’s attention, but she needed her arms free for that. The weight holding her immobile felt enormous and expansive. Her legs couldn’t move, and from their direction a trickle of pain was making itself known. More damned snow. Her teeth chattered. She was so, so cold. If she ever got out of here she was moving to an island in the sun.
What the hell happened? Slowly it came to her, one image at a time. She was skiing. Then a deep rumble like an approaching road train. Her feet going from beneath her. Hurtling down the slope, head over boots, head, boots, tossed about like a pebble on the side of the mountain. An avalanche maybe...? All she knew was that she was stuck.
‘I’m over here,’ she yelled, putting everything into it and managing a little better than the previous croak. Why couldn’t she move? If she didn’t get someone’s attention soon she would be in big trouble. Panic rose. She was helpless, unable to do a thing. Except keep squawking. ‘H-help.’
‘Hey, I see you.’ A dark shape reached her, covered her with a shadow as he blocked out the little sunlight left, chilling her further even as relief rose.
‘Hello,’ she croaked. Get me out of here.
‘I’m Jamie.’ He looked over his shoulder and waved. ‘Over here, guys.’ Thankfully he turned back to her. ‘There’re teams out looking for people caught in the avalanche. How many were with you?’
She thought about it. ‘Two. Women from the club.’ So it was an avalanche. With the confirmation came the horror of having been thrown about totally out of control and fearing for her life, swamping Kayla as she stared at the giant of a man kneeling beside her. She tried to hang onto his presence and the sense of reality he brought. She wasn’t alone any more. Or was this still a nightmare she had yet to wake up from? Or worse. ‘I am alive, right? I mean...’ Her voice petered out as she began shaking harder. What was wrong? Why was she unable to move? She hadn’t broken her back, had she? Panic rose. Her mouth dried, her heart banged erratically.
The man locked a strong gaze on her. ‘Yes, you are well and truly alive. What’s your name?’ He began scooping snow away with his gloved hands.
My name? Think.
She tried to clear her mind with a shake of her head, and a throb started up.
Think. Got it.
‘Kayla Johnson. I’m a paramedic.’ Like that was of any use right now. She needed a paramedic helping her, not to be one, because that pain was racing now, taking over, beating the cold aside. ‘Something’s wrong with my legs.’ At least her mind had cleared.
‘Easy now, Kayla.’ A large gloved hand tapped her shoulder. ‘First we’ve got to get you out of the snow and wrapped in a thermal blanket.’
‘Don’t move me until you’ve checked me over.’ Once a medical brain, always a medical brain. She didn’t think her spine was injured or surely she wouldn’t be feeling this pain from her legs? But her rescuer had to be careful until she was certain. ‘Who are you?’ she asked. What had he said his name was? He looked a little familiar. That deep voice also struck a chord. ‘Do we know each other?’
‘I’m Jamie Gordon. The local fire chief. I do search and rescue in my spare time.’ Other people were now working with him to shift the snow. Her saviour took off his gloves and reached for her first freed hand, wrapping it tightly in his strong, warm fingers. ‘Are you visiting Queenstown?’
Was she? ‘No. I’ve moved back permanently.’ Of course. She had come home three weeks ago to kick-start her life, to put the debilitating sadness behind her and find some of her old zest for living that had died with her husband.
Doing a great job of that, Kayla. This is going to set you further back.
‘Kayla? Are you with me?’ A deep, tense sound was like sugar to her ears, warmth to her cold.
Opening her eyes, she stared up at a concerned face. ‘I think so. My head’s thumping and I feel like I’m coming and going.’ She understood why he was making her talk; it would help keep her focused.
Jamie nodded. ‘You’re doing well. I’ll check your vitals shortly but first we need to get you out of this snow and warming up. We’re nearly done.’ Another squeeze of her hand then he withdrew his touch, put his glove back on.
Leaving her feeling alone despite two other people working to free her.
Come back, Jamie. Hold me.
‘There’s a doctor waiting at the chairlift building for anyone we find. Also a helicopter on standby.’ He hadn’t gone anywhere.
Relief again filled her. It was great having a man at her side when she was feeling so out of control. She hadn’t had that, or allowed that, since Dylan had died. Dylan? Why think about him now? He’d been gone three years, and she was still trying to get back on her feet and move on, but not like this. Was she going to be all right? ‘I’m not joining Dylan, am I?’ Was Jamie a figment of her imagination? She tensed, squeezing her muscles to see if she was alive. Pain ripped through her legs up into her abdomen, telling her, yes, she was very much alive. Her head swam. Her eyes seemed to roll backwards. Was she dying?
‘Kayla. Stay with me.’ A deep voice. Jamie What’s-His-Name’s voice. Nothing like Dylan’s. She was alive.
Her eyelids were too heavy to lift.
‘Kayla.’ Sharp now. ‘It’s Jamie.’ Her hand was being squeezed. ‘Your rescuer.’
Her eyes refused to open. But she could hear the man, could hold onto his presence by digging in deep to stay with him.
‘Come on, Kayla. You can do this. We’ve lifted you onto the stretcher and wrapped a thermal blanket around you and are carrying the stretcher to the building where there’s shelter and a doctor. We’re looking after you, Kayla. You’re going to be all right.’
That voice was a lifeline giving her strength. Finally she was staring at him.
Thank you.
The words were tangled in the thumping in her head and the need to hold onto the sight of this amazing man stomping through the snow, holding her hand, sharing his warmth while urging her to stay with him as others carried the stretcher. When had they moved her? Had they been careful? How had she missed all that? Concussion, said her medical brain. She preferred not knowing, chose to keep staring at Jamie Whoever and go with his words, ‘You’re going to be all right.’ Except it wasn’t true. The pain in her legs was killing her. What did it mean? Fractures? Bad ones? So bad she—
Stop, Kayla. This isn’t doing you any good.
True, but what if she had such serious injuries that there’d be no getting past them? Was this life’s way of telling her she had no right to want to kick-start things and begin enjoying life again? Should she crawl back into the dark hole and wait for another year to go by?
‘Here we are. Now you’ll get warm.’ Jamie interrupted her fears, slowed them down. ‘Doc, this is Kayla Johnson. We had to dig her out of the snow.’ He turned away to fill in the details.
She couldn’t hear what he said. His quieter tone wasn’t getting through the ringing in her ears that had started the moment she’d been brought inside to the warmth. Frustration took over, and she shoved her arm out of the blanket to bump his hip. ‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ she snapped, cringing when it came out as a whimper.
The big man came into focus as he crouched down beside her. ‘I’m not a medic of any kind, but you were feeling pain in your legs and they aren’t as straight as they should be.’ He pulled a glove off and wrapped those comforting fingers around her hand again. ‘It’s hardly surprising you might’ve broken a bone or two, Kayla. From a witness’s account of the avalanche you copped the worst of the three women in your group and are very lucky to have survived it.’ He squeezed gently.
‘Keep talking to me.’ He anchored her, helped her believe she was alive. ‘Was anyone else caught in the avalanche?’ She gabbled so he wouldn’t leave her, gripping his hand tight, regaining a sense of reality, along with relief at having made it back from the brink of something too horrible to think about.
‘Not that we know.’ Jamie stood up, still holding her hand. ‘But I have to go out for a final check in case there was someone else on the slope we don’t know about.’ His chest expanded and he looked hard at her. ‘You take care and look after yourself, okay?’
Of course he had to leave her. She’d get through this. She had to, without hanging onto his words and deep voice that held her together. ‘I’ll do my best. Thank you very much for finding me. Thank the others who helped, too.’
‘I will. Now, can I have my hand back?’
His smile struck her deep, made her soft inside, and lifted some hope out of the chill shaking her body. It was the first time she’d felt hope in years. Would there be some good to come out of this latest mess she’d got herself into? History said no, while hope said possibly. She’d hang onto that over the coming days, which she suspected weren’t going to be too wonderful. The pain in her legs was excruciating and had nothing to do with cold.
‘If you have to,’ she gasped through clenched teeth. Slowly unbending her fingers, she let her saviour go. ‘Bye, Jamie.’
See you around sometime?
