THE TENSION IN Tilly’s voice cut through the serenity of their surroundings like a knife.
‘How long ago? Where’s George? Is someone with Maggie?’
Harry was on his feet and pulling clothes from the bag on the back seat well before she finished the call. He knew the people that were being discussed. He knew that, somehow, he was involved.
And Tilly’s expression confirmed it.
‘Remember what you said to Sammy?’ she asked. ‘About where the real Father Christmas is?’
‘That he was in the North Pole?’
‘That he would be coming over the hills later tonight. That was Dad on the phone. He got a call from Doug Grimshaw, who wanted to talk to you about what you’d said. Apparently, George told him that Sammy’s gone to find Father Christmas. He wanted George to go with him, but she was scared so he said he’d go by himself, and she wasn’t allowed to tell anybody because it was a secret.’
Harry’s heart sank like a stone. ‘He thinks the “real” Father Christmas can make his wish come true. That I couldn’t do it because I was only his helper.’
‘And now he’s disappeared,’ Tilly said. ‘They didn’t stay for the carol service because they had arranged for someone to video call from the church and the family were going to join in from around Maggie’s bed. The twins said they wanted to put the ponies back in the paddock by themselves and take all the tinsel off. That was a while ago now and nobody knows where Sammy is and he took his pony so he could have gone quite a long way already. People are heading up to the Grimshaws’ farm to help look for him. If they can’t find him before it starts getting dark they’ll have to call in Search and Rescue, but there’s no guarantee there’ll be a full team available on Christmas Eve.’
‘This is partly my fault.’ Harry said quietly. ‘I need to be there. I have to help.’
When Tilly and Harry went home to get some warmer clothes and suitable footwear for trekking up hills on a high-country sheep station, it was clear that Jim Dawson felt just as strong a need to be there.
‘I delivered those twins,’ he said gruffly. ‘And Maggie was your mum’s best friend, Tilly. I’m part of that family. Harry, go and find some woollen jumpers in the chest of drawers in my room and bring one for me as well. Grab some socks while you’re at it. I reckon my gumboots will be a perfect fit for you.’
‘I’ll stay with him,’ Lizzie said. ‘Have you got some camping chairs? That way, I can at least make sure he’s not standing around too much on his crutches.’
‘We need torches. And spare batteries. I’ll find them,’ Tilly said.
‘Should we fill some Thermoses with hot water?’ Lizzie asked. ‘And take some of that baking that’s been arriving all day?’
‘With any luck they will have found Sammy by the time we get up there,’ Tilly said, ‘but yeah... I’m sure a cup of tea and a mince pie would still be welcome.’
They were far from the only people to have thought of what might be needed if a missing child wasn’t found in a hurry. A paddock near the gate to the homestead gardens was filling up with utes and four-wheel drive farm vehicles. Even the local fire engine and a police car were parked on the grass. A trestle table that had probably just been packed up recently from the barbecue in the town square was already laden with plates of food people had brought and there was a small platoon of Thermoses to one side. Jim Dawson, propped up on his crutches, took over organising mugs and bottles of milk. Tilly saw him wave a hand at Lizzie, probably dismissing her suggestion that it was time he sat down somewhere and put his foot up.
The paddock could be seen from the homestead further up the hill and Tilly could imagine that Maggie was sitting in her bed, watching what was happening. Feeling sick with worry about her grandson. It felt as if everyone was worried sick as she walked with Harry towards the group of people gathering at another gate that led onto a bare hill beside the driveway. There were people on horseback coming very slowly down the slope and one of them was leading a pony.
‘It’s Geronimo,’ someone said. ‘Look, he’s still got a bit of that tinsel tied to his tail.’
‘But where’s Sammy? I can’t see him.’
‘That pony’s limping. He’s hurt himself.’
‘Probably put his foot in a rabbit hole. They’re everywhere up there.’
‘Better than a mine shaft.’ A man’s quiet voice was grim. ‘There’s plenty of those around in these hills too.’
One of the men on horseback was Doug, and Tilly assumed the man beside him was his older brother, John, the twins’ father. They had farm dogs with them and someone following on a quad bike. It was Doug who spoke to the group waiting for them.
‘We found Geronimo up past the ridge where there’s a patch of beech forest. It’s too rocky for the quad bikes past there and dangerous for the horses now that it’s getting dark.’ He cleared his throat. ‘There’s no sign of Sam, and if he could hear us calling he’s not answering.’
Tilly caught Harry’s gaze. That his uncle was using his formal name made this all sound so much more serious. That Sammy wasn’t responding to calls when he had to be frightened after falling off his pony was even more worrying. Was he hurt? Unconscious? Harry was wearing a large backpack that was filled with first aid gear from her father’s vehicle. Tilly was wearing a smaller one that contained a drug kit and a small oxygen cylinder. They would be ready to deal with whatever they found—if they could find Sammy in time.
‘We’ve been in touch with the police and available mountain search and rescue personnel are being contacted and will be on their way from Queenstown asap. In the meantime, some of us can fan out and start a search on foot. Bruce is over there near the table, and he’ll take your details if you want to join the line and he’ll make sure you’ve got a torch and a means of communication. We’ve got a few two-way radios available, but he’ll take your phone numbers and make sure you’ve got his. Tilly—we’re going to put you in charge of anything medical that’s needed, is that okay?’
‘Of course.’
‘Go and see Bruce and he’ll make sure you’ve got a radio.’
‘Bruce was our local cop when I was growing up,’ Tilly told Harry as they turned away. ‘I thought he would have retired long ago.’
And maybe he had but he was here tonight, along with so many other concerned friends and neighbours, even if they couldn’t do anything to help other than being here—like her father. They were here to offer support. To be part of the caring. Tilly had that feeling of her heart filling to overflowing again, but this time she couldn’t attribute it to the bond she could feel with Harry or because it was Christmas. This was definitely about family and, more specifically, the kind of family that Harry had reminded her existed in a form large enough to contain an entire community.
It was in that moment that Tilly recognised the deep yearning she had to come home. To live and work in this rugged country, amongst people that she already cared about. That she could trust would care about her.
Doug was off his horse now and loosening the girth of his saddle. Someone was leading Geronimo away.
‘At least we know he’s in this paddock,’ Doug called as people began moving towards where Bruce was stationed. ‘But it’s a big one. At least ten acres and it gets pretty gnarly further up past the native bush. Don’t join the line unless you’re a confident tramper. Stay in pairs and please...be careful. We don’t want anyone else hurt up there.’
Anyone else...
Without thinking, Tilly found herself reaching for Harry’s hand as they followed the group. Feeling the squeeze of his fingers curl around hers and, even better, that he didn’t let it go added enough extra to whatever was filling her heart to make it ache—as if this addition had jagged edges.
Because, when she came home to this place and these people she loved, she was going to be a world away from Harry and she would never feel his hand holding hers again and Tilly had the disturbing feeling that the ache she could feel in her heart right now might be only the tip of an iceberg she could never have dreamed was even on the horizon. She pulled in a deep breath to steady herself and Harry must have heard it because he turned his head to catch her gaze.
‘We’ll find him,’ he said. ‘Because we won’t stop until we do.’
Tilly could feel the level of Harry’s involvement in this disappearance of a small boy. She could hear his determination to succeed and how imperative it was that they did succeed and...and she loved him for caring that much.
She loved him for who he was.
She had fallen in love with Harry Doyle, it was as simple as that.
The consequences of her heart being stolen so unexpectedly would have to wait. For now, Tilly welcomed the rush of warmth that came with acknowledging that love because it brought with it a wash of hope.
They were going to find Sammy.
This would be okay.
It had to be okay. Because anything else was unthinkable on the eve of Christmas Day.
The temperature dropped as daylight faded and the shadows of the uneven, rocky ground became a minefield of accidents, like a sprained ankle or a broken wrist, waiting to happen.
That was why Harry was keeping a firm hold of Tilly’s hand in one of his, using his other hand to hold the torch and shine light into crevasses between big rocks that could easily hide a small boy who didn’t want to be found until he’d found Father Christmas.
‘Sammy,’ he called. ‘Sam-my...’
It sounded like an echo of his own voice coming from the right, above the level that he and Tilly were searching, but it was someone else calling amidst the beams of other torches that flickered amongst the rocks and trees like giant fireflies.
They’d been here for what felt like hours now and Harry could swear they’d been over this exact patch of ground already. Admittedly, the initial search was hit and miss as everybody wanted to be out here searching far and wide as quickly as possible, but it had become more coordinated after the experienced members of a local search and rescue team took command. Quad bikes and a tractor had ferried people and supplies as far as they could so that a base was established for mapping the area into a grid and beginning a methodical search that would cover every square metre. And someone was on their way to the farm with a specialised search dog that had raised everyone’s hopes.
‘He can’t have got far,’ the searchers said, when they’d gathered to be reassigned sections of the huge paddock.
‘Yeah...it’s too steep for anyone to go further up.’
‘And don’t forget the headband. He’s got to be here somewhere.’
The news that the red headband with the Christmas tree attached had been found, thanks to the glitter of the silver tinsel catching a beam of torchlight, had been relayed to the camp at the bottom paddock by the driveway and the searchers had all heard the cheer go up.
Maggie had probably heard that cheer from the house and must have thought that Sammy had been found but that was at least an hour ago now and nothing more had been discovered. Harry’s heart felt more and more heavy at the thought of what it must be like in that big, overdecorated room where Maggie’s bed was. Did she have George cuddled up beside her and any members of the family who weren’t out searching sitting close enough to be able to reach out and touch them both? He hoped so. He liked Maggie. He liked everyone he’d met so far in Craig’s Gully and right now he’d give anything to have a chance to talk to Sammy again.
He’d like to tell him that he knew how hard this was but that it would be okay. That, as long as Sammy had the people he loved and who loved him close by, he would be able to get through this. That he was needed. By Maggie. And his twin sister. And his mum and dad and everybody else in that big, loving Grimshaw family.
It could get you through anything, that kind of love.
‘I can hear dogs barking,’ Tilly said. ‘It could be that the farm dogs have spotted a stranger arriving. Maybe that search dog will be able to sniff the headband and take us straight to where Sammy is.’
‘It would have been better if the person who found it hadn’t picked it up and taken it down the hill. It’ll take longer for the dog to pick up the trail.’
Or maybe it wouldn’t. The dark shape that appeared from behind them made Harry utter an oath and pull Tilly close, but the German Shepherd took no notice of either of them. He had his nose down and a long rope trailing behind him as he went past. The man on the other end of the rope sounded out of breath as he caught up.
‘It’s steeper...than it looks...eh?’
His dog was out of sight around a jagged tumble of rock, but the volley of barking was loud enough to make Tilly jump.
‘He’s found something,’ the dog’s handler called back. ‘Follow me... No...wait...’
Harry pulled Tilly to a stop. He could see the dog, still barking, but it was facing them and there was nothing but grass and tussock to be seen in the space between them as he played his torchlight over the ground.
‘Stay there,’ the man ordered. ‘Something’s not quite right.’ He had his own torch and he moved forward slowly. ‘Good boy... Kobe. What have you found, mate?’
There was a long moment’s silence, broken only by an exclamation of disbelief. And then both the dog and man lay down on the ground and they heard him call, ‘Sammy? You down there, buddy? Can you hear me?’
The sound of a child’s cry in return made Tilly gasp and brought a lump the size of a golf ball into Harry’s throat.
‘I’m in here... I can’t get out...’
‘That’s what we’re here for, buddy. You’re going to hear me blowing a whistle now. I’m calling in the troops.’
Tilly met Harry’s gaze as he reached for the two-way radio he was carrying. ‘And I’m calling Maggie...’
There had to be dozens of people on the Grimshaws’ land. Thousands and thousands of sheep scattered over these hills and all sorts of wild animals like rabbits and deer, goats and possums and owls, but it felt as if every living creature was holding its breath.
As if the whole world was focused on this small hole in the ground—an old, abandoned mineshaft that had been dug well over a century ago and had been partly filled in and narrowed by erosion over the decades. It had been just big enough for a small boy to slip inside, dislodging stones and dry earth in his attempts to get out, which only made him fall further but, thankfully, seemed to have prevented any significant injuries.
‘My knee’s a bit sore,’ Sammy told Harry as he questioned him thoroughly to try and do a remote assessment. ‘But that might have been from when I fell off Geronimo. I was riding him without his saddle and it made him a bit slippery.’
‘It was a very brave thing to do.’ Harry was lying on his stomach, shining a torch down into the hole, being careful not to make the edges crumble and rain dirt on the small, hunched figure he could see. Tilly was lying on the other side of the hole.
Sammy’s voice wobbled. ‘Am I in big trouble?’
‘No, darling.’ It was Tilly who reassured him. ‘I reckon everybody’s going to be too happy to get you home to be cross.’
‘Can I come out now?’
‘Just as soon as we get sorted,’ Harry said. ‘We’ve got the people who know how to do stuff like this, so we need to let them make a plan. It could take a wee while. Is it cold down there?’
‘Yes...and... I’m a bit scared.’
Harry pulled off the woollen jersey he was wearing. ‘I’m going to drop this jumper,’ he told Sammy. ‘Don’t worry—it’s soft and cuddly. If you put it on, it’ll help keep you warm.’
‘What’s a jumper?’
‘It’s a jersey,’ Tilly told him. ‘Harry comes from Ireland, and they have different names for some things.’
‘He sounds like Santa’s helper.’
‘You know what? They have little people called leprechauns in Ireland and they look a bit like the elves that are Santa’s helpers. And do you want to know a secret?’
The big sniff from the bottom of the hole was a sign that Sammy was fighting tears. ‘Y-yes...’
Tilly leaned further into the hole. ‘Don’t tell anybody, but Harry’s got ears just like a leprechaun.’
Harry wriggled back and got to his feet as Tilly coached Sammy into putting on the woollen jersey he’d dropped. The group of men who had coils of rope over their shoulders and harnesses dangling from their hands were waiting for his report.
‘I don’t think he’s injured. He might have grazed or bumped his knee but he can move all his limbs, he’s not bleeding and he’s oriented and alert. But he’s cold and tired and scared so I’m not sure how well he’d manage trying to get himself safely into a harness so we could pull him up.’
‘He hasn’t managed to get his arms into the sleeves of that jersey.’ Tilly had joined the group. ‘I wouldn’t trust his ability to deal with the buckles on a harness.’
‘And the shaft is too tight for any of us to get down. We’d just make it collapse further by trying.’
‘It’s only about five metres at the most.’
‘We could dig in from the side,’ someone suggested. ‘Just a few metres of a channel would be enough. Then someone could lean in and catch his wrists and haul the poor wee blighter out. If he stood up maybe it wouldn’t even need to be that deep.’
‘It would take hours. Might not even be possible. Some of that ground has to be solid rock.’
‘I’m not big,’ Tilly said. ‘I could lean in with someone hanging on to my ankles.’
‘And fall in on top of him and break your neck?’ Harry shook his head. ‘I’m not going to let that happen.’
‘That’s why I’d trust you to hang on to my ankles,’ Tilly said. She was watching Harry intently and he found he couldn’t look away from that gaze. From the trust he could see in her eyes. More than trust...?
The search and rescue team were talking behind them.
‘It’s not such a stupid idea. She’s the only one here who’s small enough to not get stuck in the shaft. If she was in a harness and roped in, we’ve got more than enough manpower to pull her out.
‘I could get a harness on Sammy.’ Tilly nodded.
‘You’d be hanging upside down. It’s not that easy to do anything.’
‘But it’s worth a try, isn’t it?’ Harry could see Tilly straightening her spine as she reached towards the harness one of the men was holding. ‘Please? If there’s any way we can get Sammy back to his nana quickly, we’ve got to try.’
Harry sensed the change around him. Because there were enough local people here who knew exactly why time was precious for the Grimshaw family. People who were prepared to break rules or protocols and do whatever they could to help. So he couldn’t try and talk Tilly out of the idea. He could only watch her being buckled into a harness and ropes being attached with carabiners and instructions being given about how to attach another harness to Sammy.
And then he could only watch her being lowered into the hole, far enough for her feet to vanish from sight. He had to stand well back because nobody knew if there were ancient tunnels that could cause sinkholes if there was too much weight at ground level. Nobody knew how easily Tilly would be able to fit through the length of that shaft either, or what the effects might be on her body. Hanging upside down for more than a few minutes could lead to an increase in blood pressure and a decrease in heart rate. It could put pressure on the eyes and lead to blood pooling inside the head. It was possible that Tilly could pass out. It was also possible that her heart could stop when blood flow to her lower body was suddenly restored to a normal level.
She could die.
And it was that thought that made the breath catch in Harry’s chest and made him close his eyes in pain as he realised just how much he didn’t want that to happen. Not to this astonishingly courageous, beautiful, loving, warm woman he’d discovered Matilda Dawson to be.
He didn’t want it to happen to someone he cared about this much...
He’d never been so relieved as he was in the moment, only minutes later, when Tilly was pulled back to safety. And, when it looked as if she might be about to faint when she tried to get up, he was the one who reached her first and held her steady in his arms.
‘Don’t move,’ he told her. ‘It’s okay. I’ve got you...’
The pounding in Tilly’s head was finally receding as little Sammy was carefully pulled out of the mineshaft and Harry was able to check him out physically and confirm that he was, miraculously, uninjured.
It was his father, John, who carried him off the hill and up to the homestead as the overjoyed volunteers began to pack up and go home to their own families—not before they’d shared a cup of tea and some Christmas baking, mind you.
Tilly found her father still behind the trestle table, pouring hot water into a large teapot.
‘It’s time you went home,’ she told him.
‘I’ll wait a bit. You’re going up to the house?’
‘Yes. Just for a minute. Harry and I want to check on Maggie. She will have been through the wringer in the last few hours.’
Jim nodded. ‘It’s been a Christmas Eve to remember, that’s for sure. Thank goodness we’ve had a happy ending.’
Tilly could see past the smile on her father’s face. ‘You’re in a lot more pain, aren’t you?’
‘He’s been on his feet too long,’ Lizzie told her. ‘I’m going to check that foot in a minute and, if necessary, I’ll cart him off to hospital, don’t you worry.’
Tilly smiled. ‘Thanks, Lizzie. Might see you at home again a bit later?’
‘Not likely, lovie.’ Lizzie grinned back. ‘It’s almost midnight and at my age we all turn into pumpkins after that.’
By the time Tilly and Harry reached the homestead and were welcomed inside, Sammy was cuddled up beside Maggie on her bed and nobody seemed at all bothered by the amount of dirt that had been spread on her sheets. George was snuggled under her nana’s other arm. Tilly knelt by the head of the bed and Harry perched on the end. The rest of the family drifted further away, as if wanting to give Maggie privacy with her medical team. Sammy’s mother called to her son.
‘You hungry, Sammy? We’ve got cheese rolls that have just come out of the oven. They’re your favourite.’
‘Ooh, they sound good,’ Harry said. ‘What’s a cheese roll?’
‘South Island specialty,’ Maggie told him. ‘You’d better check that Tilly knows how to make them, Harry. It’s at the top of the list for something a good southern wife should know how to make.’
Tilly jumped in to try and skate over the awkward moment. ‘How are you feeling, Maggie? Can we do anything to help? How’s that pain level?’
Tilly could see the way George snuggled even closer in beneath her grandmother’s arm.
‘It’ll get better, Nana. That’s what Santa said. It’ll stop being sore.’
‘It will, my darling girl,’ Maggie said quietly. ‘It will...’
Sammy also leaned closer. ‘I’m sorry, Nana. I couldn’t find Father Christmas to make our wish come true.’
‘Some wishes aren’t meant to come true, my love.’ Maggie closed her eyes, her hand stroking Sammy’s hair. ‘But you know that part of me is never going to die, don’t you?’
Sammy raised his head. ‘What part, Nana?’
‘The part that lives in here.’ Maggie touched his chest. ‘In your heart. It’ll be there for ever. Even when I’m not here, you can talk to me whenever you want and, if you stay still and listen very carefully, you might even hear me say something back.’
Both George and Sammy were wide-eyed. They stared at their nana and then looked at each other. And smiled.
Tilly looked from the older woman and these beautiful children to the man sitting on the end of the bed. Not that she could see Harry very well because her eyes were filled with tears. But she could feel the tenderness of that smile and was quite sure that he was blinking back his own tears.
She could also feel her heart fill to bursting point again. Overflowing, in fact, as they all became aware of the faint sound drifting in through the open door of the house. A glance through the windows showed them that most of the horde of volunteers who had shown up to search for Sammy hadn’t gone home just yet. Someone must have had the supply of candles that had been used for the carol service in the back of their ute and everybody was holding a tiny flame.
And they were all singing.
Silent night, holy night...
Tilly blinked away her tears and now she could see Harry’s face with absolute clarity. And he was still smiling as he stood up and held out his hand.
‘It’s time we let Maggie rest,’ he said. ‘Let’s go home, Tilly.’