‘Tara?’
Shockwaves shook the ground beneath their feet, uprooted the giant trees from their ancient roots, tossed clouds around the air, sent the birds flying for the stars.
Or maybe it only felt like that to her.
The silence that opened up between the two sides of the room felt yawning and endless, a void she might fall into and never climb out from. She didn’t even notice that Jed was leaning on her now, that she was half bent and broken by the weight of him. She couldn’t process what her eyes were showing her: Alex, right here, in the room, in this hut, in this jungle.
Ten years had passed since she had last seen him but it felt like a time-slip; it could have been yesterday. Only, how was it possible that he looked better than that last night in London? His wan, urban pallor was now replaced by a deep tan; his hair was longer, shaggier, and with a few sun-tinted caramel highlights; he had always been lean but he had broadened in the shoulders and thighs. He was a man now and not the man-child she had known.
Jed slumped suddenly, his knees buckling from the effort to remain standing, and she felt her own go too. Alex lurched forwards, moving from hologram to three-dimensional truth as he went to catch Jed, who cried out from the pain of his arm and shoulder jolting.
‘Sorry, bud. I’m sorry.’ Alex winced as, in a stroke, Tara felt Jed’s weight being lifted off her as he was helped towards the chair.
‘. . . What happened?’ Alex asked her, his pale eyes burning with alarm.
‘He was attacked by someone,’ she said, watching now as he manoeuvred her old friend carefully into sitting down, taking care not to jog his broken arm again.
Alex looked back at her sharply. ‘And you?’
She shook her head. ‘Jed was ahead of me. I don’t think they knew I was there.’
Alex stared at her with narrowed eyes for a moment as though debating whether he believed that. He looked back at the patient. ‘. . . Jed? Can you hear me, buddy?’ Alex crouched down in front of him, looking more closely at the crudely splinted arm. For the first time, Tara realized she was standing there in just her bra and jean shorts.
‘His arm’s broken in two places, shoulder was dislocated. And he’s badly concussed. We need to get him to a hospital asap. He needs a CT.’
Alex thought for a moment, then stood up, bringing his walkie-talkie back to his mouth. His thumb pressed on a button and the room filled with static again, like the swarm of a million mosquitoes. It was not an enticing thought and Tara scratched herself mindlessly, realizing a miniature army had feasted on her in the oppressive humidity, her shirt off, as she helped Jed stagger along.
‘Base to Torto One, over.’ Alex walked across the room, towards the door, waiting for a response. It came within moments.
‘Torto one, responding to Base, over.’
‘Medical emergency,’ he said in easy Spanish. ‘Mora and Jimenez back to Base asap. Bring the stretcher. Over.’
‘Roger that. Over and out.’
Alex turned back to them, glancing at the pitiful scene, but he didn’t say anything. He reached for the phone on the desk and punched some numbers in. Tension infused every movement. He looked almost angry, his jaw set in a firm position.
‘Hello, yes,’ he said, lapsing into Spanish again as though he was a native. He seemed so . . . at home here. ‘This is Alex Carter at the rangers’ base station in Tremain Talamanca Park. We have a medical emergency. One man, late-thirties, arm broken in two places, dislocated shoulder, head injury and concussion. Arm is splinted and stabilized. Requesting ambulance at Marzano Highway, junction nine, in . . .’ His gaze went up to a clock on the wall as he made a mental calculation. ‘Two hours twenty minutes.’
Tara felt her stomach clench at his words. Another two-and-a-half-hour wait before Jed could even be transferred to an ambulance. And then how long would it be to the nearest hospital? And what facilities would it have? Did it even have a scanner? Every minute counted with head injuries.
He put the phone down and turned back to them. ‘Help’s coming.’
Tara felt a burst of irritation. Help was coming? Like he’d done the hard part? He’d saved them?
He stood there for a moment, staring at her again like she was the one who’d been beaten up, then left the room.
Tara stared after him in bafflement. Now where had he gone?
Beside her, Jed groaned, his head rolling back.
‘Hey, it’s okay,’ she said, taking his good hand and squeezing it lightly. ‘Help’s on the way. We’re safe now.’
‘Paco—’
‘Paco’s . . .’ What could she say? ‘Paco’s okay. He’s the same as he was. Let’s just concentrate on you for the moment.’
‘Nnnn . . .’ Jed protested, his eyes fluttering. Without warning, he pitched forward and began to vomit.
Tara grabbed the desk bin and positioned it beneath him as he retched and heaved. This was a bad sign. ‘It’s okay,’ she soothed him, slowly rubbing his back.
Alex came back in with a pile of uniforms, neatly folded. He took in the latest development in silence.
‘Is there somewhere we can lie him down?’ she asked.
‘Yes, there’s a bed in the back.’
‘That would be better.’
She stepped back, allowing Alex to support Jed’s weight and lever him back to standing again. She felt so weak now, her muscles stiff and sore from having supported eighty per cent of the weight of a ninety-five-kilo man for two hours.
They went through to a tiny room at the back of the building. It had no windows at all and was only big enough to accommodate a single mattress and a chair. They got Jed sitting down on the bed.
‘We need to get these wet clothes off him,’ Tara said. ‘Hypothermia’s a complication we could do without.’
But with his arm strapped and bound, there was only one way to do it. Alex went back to the office, returning moments later with a pair of scissors and a towel. They cut his shirt off and Tara dried him carefully. Then, lying him down, they took off his boots, socks and trousers. Covering him with the towel, she cut off his soaking-wet underpants too and covered him with the blanket. ‘We need to keep him warm.’
‘And you.’ Alex swept a cautionary look over her, reminding her she too was soaked to the bone – and half-dressed. ‘There’s some dry clothes out there.’
Without another word, she went back to the office and rifled through the stack of ranger uniforms he’d left on the desk. They were the same as he was wearing, and exactly what she and Jed had been planning to beg/borrow/steal when they got here – utilitarian ripstop khaki trousers with useful cargo pockets, long-sleeved shirts. She stripped off her sodden clothes. She dried herself with the hand towel and changed into them, having to roll over the waistband of the trousers twice to get them to stay up.
She went back to the desk for her rucksack, then walked back into the small bedroom, to find Jed throwing up again. Alex hadn’t been quite so ready for it and it was all over the floor.
‘Mop?’ she asked.
He looked up, hesitating at the sight of her dressed in the too-big ranger’s uniform; she knew she must look feral. A Jungle Jane. ‘There’s some cleaning supplies in the cupboard beside the—’
She arched an eyebrow, stopping him.
‘I’ll get it.’ He rushed past as she reached into her bag and pulled out her small doctor’s kit. She put the stethoscope back on and listened to Jed’s heart. It was labouring hard. She put the cuff on his good arm and took his blood pressure. Too high.
‘Have you got a torch?’ she called through to Alex, able to hear his footsteps coming back down the corridor, stop, retreat again.
‘Here,’ he said, a few moments later.
She took it in silence. It was far too big for what she needed, but better than nothing. She shone the beam into Jed’s eyes. He winced, the pupils restricting.
‘Good, that’s good,’ she smiled, rubbing his uninjured arm encouragingly. ‘You’re doing well, Jed.’
Alex began mopping the floor around her and she stepped out of the way. The smell of bleach was a welcome alternative to that of vomit. She watched blankly for a moment as he squeezed the mop head in the wringer. It seemed completely ludicrous that any of this was happening. That of all the people to have come into this remote outpost, it should be him. Or rather, them.
He looked up and caught her staring.
‘There’s some in the office too, remember,’ she said.
‘Right.’ His eyes narrowed slightly.
‘How much longer before help gets here?’
Alex checked his watch. ‘Five minutes? Ten? We’ll hear them.’
Hear them? ‘What’s going to happen?’
‘When the other two get here, they’ll stretcher him down to the road, where an ambulance can get near enough to intercept.’
‘And the hospital?’
‘Is about half an hour away from there.’
‘Do they have the equipment? He’s going to need a CT scan.’
‘They’ve got good doctors there.’
It wasn’t an answer. ‘Good doctors still can’t see a bleed inside a skull,’ she said flatly. ‘Do we need to have a helicopter on standby to get him to San José?’
He stared at her and she realized he’d never heard her speak this way before, referencing her easy access to resources that were out of reach of almost everyone. When they’d been together – so very long ago, now – it had been something she had gone to great lengths to keep hidden. As well they both knew.
‘Probably. Yes.’
‘Then I assume you can sanction that.’ She stared at him levelly. ‘Or would you prefer I do it myself?’ She was pulling rank and they both knew it.
‘I’ll do it,’ he said, walking out.
Tara felt the room decompress as he went down the hall and made the call; all the air seemed to leave with him. She looked back at her patient. Jed was lying stretched out, eyelids fluttering as he stared, unseeing, at the pitched ceiling.
‘Just don’t go to sleep on me, Jed. You must stay awake. For Paco’s sake, and Sarita’s, and all your beautiful children – stay awake.’
He groaned. ‘Pah—’ His lips pushed out, making the sound but not quite able to finish it.
‘Paco’s okay,’ she soothed him. He wasn’t okay, of course, but neither was it a lie. The child was technically in the same condition as when they’d left, the same as if they hadn’t ever embarked upon this quest in the first place. She knew it had always been a long shot anyway, a desperate attempt to just do something.
Alex came back ten minutes later. ‘Okay. Everything’s arranged. There’s a chopper landing in town that will take him straight to San José.’
‘Good.’
His expression changed as he looked back at Jed. ‘How’s he doing?’
‘His GCS score is nine, which I’m not happy about.’
‘GCS?’
‘Glasgow Coma Scale. It’s a way of grading head injuries.’
‘Oh.’ He stuck his hands in his pockets and began to pace at the doorway. The room stank of bleach and her initial relief to be free of the stench of vomit was fading fast. The air felt toxic and chemical; she had a growing urge to stand outside and turn her face up to the rain.
The sound of something outside made them both turn their heads. It was a distant whirring, high-pitched and insistent.
‘That’s them,’ Alex said. ‘Let’s help him up.’
He came over and pushed Jed to a sitting position.
‘Let me just get him covered up,’ she said, wrapping the towel around Jed’s hips and securing it. Dignity mattered, even at times like this.
Alex draped Jed’s good arm over his shoulder and managed to get him to stand. Tara grabbed the blanket and held the doors open as the two men staggered and limped through the narrow corridor, coming through again into the office. She opened the door onto the deck outside and saw with relief that the rain had finally stopped. A hazy sunshine now lit the sky, a gentle steam lifting up off the ground, the trees and bushes . . . The animals had come back out again too, birds trilling and shrieking from on high, insects buzzing and skittering furiously.
She could almost believe that the events of the past few hours had been some strange delusion – the shock of seeing Jed crumpled on the ground, administering first aid in a jungle setting, staggering through the streaming mud, Alex . . .
She looked up, not sure what the sound was that she could hear and was astonished to see a microlight coming through the sky. She watched as it approached at speed, then hovered at a point just above the station, before lowering into the trees.
Alex looked at Jed and patted his chest reassuringly. ‘Nearly there, buddy. Hang tight.’
In a matter of mere moments, two rangers appeared, dressed in the same clothes Alex and now Tara herself were wearing. They were Indigenous men, well-built – she knew her father had made a point of ensuring the ranger jobs were offered to the Indigenous people first; they knew the terrain better than anyone – and they came running down through the trees and onto the deck.
‘What’ve we got?’ they asked in Spanish.
‘Jed Alvarado.’
Tara saw the way the men’s eyes widened at the mention of his name and they looked at him more closely.
‘He’s been attacked—’
Tara saw a knowing look pass between the three men.
‘We need to get him off the mountain. There’ll be an ambulance at the Marzano cross-section, ready to get him to the helicopter to take him to San José.’
Both men nodded, glancing at the slumped figure leaning heavily on Alex.
‘We’ve got the stretcher,’ one of them said, unfolding a portable red heavy-duty plastic stretcher and two harnesses. The men shrugged the harnesses on as Alex and Tara helped Jed to lie down on the stretcher on the deck, but he was becoming increasingly confused and distressed now, sensing change.
‘Nnnno,’ he moaned.
‘Yes, Jed,’ Tara said, guiding him gently down, pressing on his good shoulder to get him to lie flat. ‘We must get you looked at properly.’
‘Nnno—’
She draped the blanket over Jed’s exposed body and fastened the straps to secure him in. ‘Alex, translate to these guys for me. They’ll need to pass it on to the paramedics.’ Her Spanish wasn’t good enough for medical jargon. ‘His arm is broken in two places along the radius,’ she said slowly, waiting for Alex to translate and pointing to Jed’s forearm to show the rangers what she meant. ‘His shoulder was dislocated and has been reset, but it will still be unstable and very painful . . . I’ve immobilized it but you must still be very careful . . . Tell the paramedics he’s scoring a nine on the GCS scale. They’ll know what that means,’ she added as the rangers looked back at her blankly, even after translation.
‘Have you got that?’ Alex asked sharply, seeing their vacant expressions too. ‘Tara is an ICU consultant at St Thomas’s Hospital in London. She knows what she’s talking about.’
Both men nodded and she felt a tightening in her chest that her word could only be trusted on Alex’s say-so. ‘Okay.’
‘Right, fast as you can then,’ Alex said, chivvying them to get on.
‘But steady,’ Tara added as both men squatted down and connected the stretcher to their harnesses, the man at the front needing Alex’s help to connect it to the back of his harness. They rose on a count of three.
Tara looked down at Jed; his head was lifting off the stretcher as he felt the sensation of being lifted and carried.
‘Sar—’
‘I’ll tell Sarita, don’t worry,’ she said as Jed flailed to reach her. She grasped his good hand with hers, keeping him calm. ‘And I’ll get her over to San José to see you, don’t worry about any of that.’
‘Nnno . . . Paco . . .’
Tara swallowed, looking back apprehensively at her old friend. ‘Let’s just deal with first things first.’
‘Pahhh . . . co.’ He was staring at her now and she could see the effort it was taking him to fix his gaze, to keep her in his sights. ‘Paco.’
‘Who’s Paco?’ Alex asked.
She glanced up. ‘His son. He’s very sick. We had come out here to get a remedy for him for the Awa.’
Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘What remedy? Where, exactly?’
‘We were heading for Alto Uren,’ she muttered distractedly. What did it matter now? She looked back at Jed. ‘The moment we know you’re all right, we’ll head off again,’ she lied.
‘Nnnno!’ The word burst from him, his body becoming tense, resistant. He was strapped down but he was a big man and the rangers both struggled to balance as he began to fight.
‘Jed—’ She faltered, trying to calm him. ‘I promise, we’ll get Paco what he needs, but we must look after you first. We need you to get us there, remember? You and the Awa are the only ones who know what we’re looking for and where.’
But Jed wouldn’t listen. He began trying to sit up, to undo the straps tying him in place with his good hand, even though his co-ordination had gone, his movements flailing and useless.
‘I know where Alto Uren is,’ Alex said suddenly, calming him with a steady hand on his chest. ‘I can go there.’
Jed stopped fighting. His head fell back on the stretcher as he looked back at Alex, and Tara wondered how well they knew one another. Alex had called him ‘buddy’, and Jed’s father worked with Alex all the time. The thought that they might be friends felt like another loss, something else Alex had stolen from her.
‘Tell me what it is you’re looking for.’
Jed mumbled a word in Bribri that Tara couldn’t catch – but Alex’s eyes narrowed. Slowly he nodded. ‘I know that plant. I’ve seen it there. You’re sure that’s what you’re looking for?’
‘Pahhco,’ Jed repeated, the word almost a sigh.
‘Then leave it to me. I’ll get it for you. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll protect your boy.’
Jed’s body softened as if tranquillized and at Alex’s nod the two rangers immediately set off. Tara and Alex watched as he was carried across the deck, down the steps and along the jungle path. Within moments they were gone, but she and Alex stood there, looking on after the red streak was out of sight.
She knew he was thinking the same as her, feeling the same sense of unease as they found themselves alone in the Costa Rican jungle, one question running through both their minds.
Now what?
She went back inside, remembering that in all the rush, she’d left her wet clothes in a heap on the floor. She picked them up and rolled them into balls, stuffing them back in her rucksack with all the food. She went through to the small room at the back and did the same with Jed’s clothes too, although his shirt was in rags now and she put that in the bin.
Alex stood watching her as she moved about busily. ‘Will he be okay?’
‘As long as there’s no further holdups, yes, I hope so.’ Her voice was brisk, her eyes anywhere but on him.
He watched her fasten her backpack, frowned as she hoisted it over her arms. ‘. . . What are you doing?’
It was her turn to frown. ‘Heading back. What do you think?’
There was a small laugh. ‘. . . What?’
She looked up to find Alex staring at her with an openly shocked expression. ‘I’m heading back. His wife needs to be told what’s happened. Why’s that funny?’
‘You can’t go trekking through this jungle on your own!’
There was a pause. ‘I think you’ll find I can do whatever I like,’ she said in an even voice. If he thought he could tell her what she could or couldn’t do, if he thought he was entitled to talk to her as though he knew her . . .
‘Tara, this isn’t . . . Hyde Park!’
‘I’m perfectly aware of that,’ she said coldly, not appreciating his condescension.
‘You have no idea where their village is from here.’
That was perfectly true. ‘Don’t I? And how would you know?’
He stared back at her, unable to tell if she was bluffing. He knew she’d come here throughout her childhood.
She tightened the straps on the backpack. ‘Thanks for your help. I’ll be sure to let my father know.’
She saw the insult register as she elucidated his place in the pecking order: an employee – albeit an important one – nothing more, nothing less.
She went to walk past but he blocked the door. ‘Twig—’ There was that shocked laugh again.
‘Don’t call me that,’ she said sharply, feeling her composure shake as he stood close to her now. She felt at the edge of her limits, her heart banging too fast. She knew if she were to take her pulse it would be high 140s, maybe higher. This was rapidly becoming more than she could bear. Now that the initial urgency of seeing to Jed was over, the shock of suddenly coming face to face with the man who had all but destroyed her life was overwhelming. She had promised herself she would never set eyes on him again. It was the condition she had set – sending it out into the universe – that had enabled her to get out of bed again after those first few desolate weeks . . . But now here he was, right in front of her. He worked for her father, of course, so she had known he would be at the handover this week – she had spent months refusing to think about it – but to bump into him in the middle of the jungle, in a land area of almost 20,000 square miles . . . she had thought her chances of avoiding him were pretty good.
‘Look. I’ll radio Jimenez and get him to go to Jed’s village and tell his wife, after they’ve handed Jed over. It’s not that far from the handover point.’
She shrugged. She could see, even if she would not admit it, that that was a much better solution. ‘Okay, fine. See ya.’ She turned away again so that he had to jump almost in front of her, blocking her path.
‘Tara, can we just . . . just take a second? Please?’
‘For what?’
He gave another baffled laugh, ran a hand through his hair. ‘Well, for one thing, I’ve not seen you in ten years. How are you?’
She blinked. And there it was – the easy lapse into pleasantries which in itself told her everything she hadn’t wanted to know: that he was happy to see her and therefore happy without her. He stood before her fulfilled, a man at ease, those three simple words drawing fresh blood and confirming all over again her conviction that she had never been to him what he had been to her; she had simply been his way to realize his lifetime ambition by the age of twenty-three. Of course he hadn’t looked back when he’d come here! Tasked with creating an entire national park, he wouldn’t even have looked up!
The plain fact of it was no less painful now than it had been then, even though she had gone on to make such a success of her life, excelling in her career, embracing the privileges she had once sought to hide, taking her place among the fashionable, good and great. She was wanted at parties and dinners, at keynote conferences and skiing trips. She had had a string of lovers who had been just diverting enough and now, of course, Rory, who made her feel so settled and content. And yet, standing before this man, it all felt like a mirage, a glittering image of a life but without any real substance. Three little words and she was exposed.
‘Goodbye, Alex.’ She walked past him, pushing the door so hard on its hinges it flew back and hit the wall. She was halfway down the steps back to the path when she heard him call out after her.
‘What about the boy?’
She didn’t stop. ‘There’s nothing that can be done now,’ she called back, not caring whether he heard or not. She just had to get away from here. She wouldn’t stay another minute.
Her heart advanced to a gallop as she got to the rough path that would – supposedly, eventually – take her off this mountain and back onto the flats, and then somewhere after that, the road. She saw how the track seemed to disappear into the leaves, but hadn’t they largely travelled in a straight line? She hadn’t been aware of any sharp left or right turns. She was pretty sure she could navigate her way back. Or, might she be able to catch the rangers? They were only, what, five, six minutes ahead of her? They’d set off at an almost-jog but she could catch them if she ran. They were carrying a full-grown man and she had a past to outrun; she’d catch them in no time. It was her best bet.
‘Tara.’ Alex was staring at her like she’d gone mad, his hand on her arm. ‘Could you please just wait?’
‘Get your hand off me. I need to catch up with them.’
‘Who . . .?’ He looked confused. Then surprised. ‘Mora and Jimenez?’ He gave a laugh. ‘No chance! Seriously, none.’
‘That’s just your opinion.’
‘No, that’s my experience,’ he countered with a look that told her he wasn’t joking. He was still holding on to her arm, as though he didn’t trust her not to make a break for it. She could feel the spread of his palm over her skin, the press of his fingertips. ‘And besides, we have to discuss next steps.’
‘There are no next steps. Jed’s getting medical help and I’m getting off this mountain before it gets dark.’
‘And what about his boy? He was distressed. We made a promise.’
‘Jed’s concussed, therefore promises mean nothing. He’ll already have forgotten all about it. Nothing can be done now anyway.’
‘But I know where Alto Uren is. I know the Guetares tribe and the plant you’re looking for.’
‘Oh! Well, good for you! Go get it then! Go be the hero!’ Her sarcasm was out-out now.
His eyes flashed with sudden anger too. ‘And in the meantime, what? Leave you wandering through the jungle on your own?’
‘Trust me. I’m a big girl,’ she snapped. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘Really? So if you encounter a cougar you’ll do what exactly . . .?’ He pointedly looked for signs of a weapon on her, something that could be used for self-defence. He seemed to have forgotten that his hand was still attached to her arm, the two of them joined and wrestling like a two-headed snake. ‘. . . No? Nothing?’
‘The chances of me encountering a cougar are low to nil.’
‘As low as encountering me?’ He stared back at her with a black light in his eyes. ‘And how about the men who attacked you? What if you meet them again?’
‘Why would I? Their issues are with Jed, not me.’
His mouth opened as he went to say something, then closed it again. He took several breaths and she watched him try to calm himself down. He dropped her arm from his grip and took a step back. Proximity had always been a problem for them, she remembered. They had never been able to think straight when they were too close. ‘Look, this is an either-or situation, Tara. I can either get you off this mountain or I can take you to Alto Uren, but not both.’ He planted his hands on his hips and blinked back at her. ‘I’d lose my job if your father found out I let you travel through the jungle, unprotected and alone.’
It was the return punch to her own slight. To her, he was just her father’s employee. To him, she was just his boss’s daughter.
She stared at him, hating him. She wondered how it could be that she had ever thought she loved him, that she had been prepared to give up her career, all her own ambitions and dreams, to share a life with him. He was self-centred, selfish, power-hungry, vain.
He read the contempt in her face and took another step back. ‘Just . . .’ he exhaled, looking bewildered that any of this was happening. That after ten years of silence, they’d gone straight into a fight. ‘Tell me about the boy. What’s wrong with him?’
Tara looked away. She didn’t want to think about that child right now. She didn’t want to be reminded of his suffering. She wanted to get away from here, away from him. ‘. . . I think it’s hepatitis, but it could be leukaemia and I can’t be sure without further testing.’ She kept her gaze well away, not interested in seeing the sadness in his eyes, his postures of compassion.
There was a silence. ‘How old is he?’
‘Six.’
‘And you think his hepatitis or leukaemia is going to be treated by a herbal medicine?’
She whipped back to face him. ‘No, of course I don’t! But it was the only way I could get his parents to agree to trying my methods. They have to pursue all their options as they see them; they have to see those fail first. Then they’ll let me intercede.’
He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. ‘I’m only asking because there’s been some impressive reports about certain botanicals. I just didn’t figure they were your scene, that’s all.’
‘You don’t know what my scene is,’ she snapped. Although clearly he knew some things about her. She remembered now how he’d reeled off her position and title and place of work to the rangers; it hadn’t struck her at the time because she’d been more indignant that her professional opinion was going unheard, seemingly because she was a woman. ‘I go where the science leads me. I’ll do whatever I can for my patients. You’re not the only one who’ll do whatever it takes for their job.’
Anger reflected off every word, like sunlight on steel, dazzling him and forcing him back. They were quiet for several moments as she tried to recover herself. She wished she hadn’t said that – referred back to their past and how he’d hurt her. It suggested she was still wounded by it when, in truth, there was only scar tissue there now. She was simply exhausted by this afternoon’s turn of events, upset about what had happened to Jed. And now she had the shock of this to contend with.
‘So what do you want to do, then?’ he asked finally.
‘I want to get off this bloody mountain,’ she snapped again, unable to help herself. The sooner she got away from him, the better. She couldn’t bear it. It was like some kind of sick cosmic joke.
He nodded, as if he understood, but he didn’t. He never had. ‘Then I’ll lead you down. Just give me two minutes. I need to lock up.’
She stewed as she watched him head back up the steps again, still moving with that same languid lope, that easy SoCal manner. She felt furious, resentful. And guilty – because as much as he was the last person she had ever wanted to see again in this life, anywhere on this planet, as much as she detested him . . . she still couldn’t put that above a sick child who needed her help.
His hand was on the door handle now, ready to get her off this mountain and back in time for dinner. Was she really going to allow her personal feelings to colour her professional actions? She well knew that in this medical instance, to do nothing would be to do harm.
She sighed and shut her eyes, feeling the resentment burn. No. No. No.
‘. . . Alex, wait.’