A Father Beyond Compare

CHAPTER TWO

SHE was so cold. Emma had never been this cold in her entire life. She had never been this terrified. She could ignore the deep ache in her leg, even dismiss the sharp pain in her ribs when she tried to take a deeper breath but she couldn’t escape the terror.

Not while she was alone like this, anyway. It had almost gone for a while back there—when Tom had been with them. Having Mickey to focus on had been an overwhelming distraction as well. How long had it been since Tom had taken her son away? Five minutes? Forty-five minutes? Impossible to tell.

At least her teeth weren’t chattering hard enough to feel like they were going to shatter now. And her head was still above water, although every so often the van rocked enough to make a wave lap against her face. Emma had to screw her eyes tightly shut when that happened and hold her breath. And pray that Mickey, at least, had made it to safety.

This was all so unfair. So stupid! What right had she to drag her son off on what was probably a wild-goose chase? She could have stayed where she was and come to terms with always having that shadow hanging over her life. She could have kept them both safe. Her parents had thought she was wasting her money.

‘Have a holiday closer to home, for goodness’ sake,’ her mother had said more than once. ‘There’s absolutely no point in going all the way to New Zealand. He could have found you last year, you know—if he’d really wanted to.’

Spain would have been nice. Or the south of France. Or a Greek island. A nice short plane ride away from Wales. Mickey could have built sandcastles while Emma lazed on a beach and tried to sort out the direction she wanted to take at this crossroads in her life.

Instead, she was trapped in a van. Waiting to be swept to her death. Or maybe to drown first, the way the van was rocking and sending water over her face right now. Either way she was going to die. Alone.

No. Emma took a gasping breath in between the waves. She wasn’t going to give up. She was only twenty-eight, for God’s sake, and she had a young child who depended on her.

And…and she wasn’t alone. She could hear someone yelling her name.

‘Tom? Is that you?’ Emma opened her eyes and thoughts of imminent death faded. She couldn’t see much of the paramedic’s face, what with the helmet and visor and a microphone attachment but she could see enough. Dark eyes that were fastened on her. And a smile that could light the darkest of places.

Even the place they were both in right now.

‘How it’s going, then?’

Such a silly question but Emma was so relieved to see Tom that she had to smile. Then she had an important question of her own. ‘Mickey?’

‘He’s safe. On board the chopper and they’ll be taking him to the ambulance crew to get checked out.’

‘Was he…good? No trouble?’

Tom was grinning. ‘I only got pinched a few times. He didn’t want to leave his mum.’

Emma couldn’t hold the tears back. Relief vied with panic that she would never see her child again.

‘Hey…’ Tom was squeezing himself as far through the gap as he could without falling on top of Emma. ‘It’s going to be all right. We’ll get you out of here in no time.’

She believed him. Almost. ‘But my foot’s still stuck.’

‘I’m going to see if I can do something about that. How are you feeling otherwise?’ Tom stripped off a glove and reached down to take hold of her wrist. ‘You’re pretty cold, aren’t you?’

He was taking her pulse. Although her hands were almost numb with the cold, Emma could feel the contact. The warmth of another human touching her. The fear of dying alone evaporated. Even the fear of dying at all faded. If anyone could get her out of this, it would be this big man, with his reassuringly calm manner and that wonderful smile.

‘Are you having any trouble breathing?’

‘It hurts a bit. I think my ribs got a bit bruised by the steering-wheel.’

‘How’s your neck? And your head?’

‘Fine…I think.’

‘Were you knocked out?’

‘No.’

‘Do you know what day it is?’

‘Um…Wednesday.’ Tom was trying to assess her level of consciousness. ‘The fourteenth,’ she supplied. ‘We came over on the ferry from North Island yesterday…and we were taking a roundabout route to get to Christchurch.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘Wales.’

Tom was grinning again. ‘Can you sing?’

Emma actually laughed. ‘Not right now.’

‘Fair enough.’ Tom leaned further in. Emma could have wrapped her arms around his neck if she’d wanted to. And she did want to. Very much.

‘I’m just going to have a feel down your leg,’ Tom told her.

‘OK.’

‘I hope you don’t say that to every man you’ve just met.’ It was astonishing how Tom could actually make a joke of trying to assess how badly she was trapped. It was a great technique, though. Emma trusted him completely. She would do whatever she had to do to be co-operative.

‘Ow!’

‘Sorry. You’ve got some trauma. You’re bleeding a bit.’

Emma had heard that kind of understatement from medical professionals more than once.

‘I do feel pretty weird. Have I lost enough to be in shock, do you think?’ Dark eyes flicked up to meet hers and Emma smiled wryly. ‘I’m a nurse,’ she told Tom. ‘I’ve probably imagined the worst-case scenario here in lurid detail.’

‘I’ll bet.’ Tom was pulling at something well below the water line. Emma felt something metallic scraping against her leg and bit her lip to prevent crying out and restricting his efforts. ‘What kind of nursing?’

‘I used to be a theatre nurse. I’ve worked in Emergency, too, and loved that. I’ve just been a general practice nurse since Mickey was born and I’m more than ready for a change.’

‘Not exciting enough?’

‘No.’

‘So you came looking for some adventure.’ Tom grunted with the effort of trying to bend something from his upside down position.

‘Not this kind.’

‘Long way to come.’ Tom adjusted his position. He used one hand to anchor himself on the doorhandle just behind Emma’s head and twisted, pushing his other arm further into the water. ‘Have you got family in New Zealand?’

Did Mickey’s father count? ‘Not exactly.’

‘Friends?’

‘Um…’ What she and Simon had had could hardly be described as ‘friendship’. A wild affair with undying passion declared on both sides. Something that had ignited so quickly it had bypassed anything resembling a friendship. A conflagration that had been over even more quickly than it had begun.

‘Not really,’ Emma told Tom.

‘You don’t sound too sure.’

‘Mmm.’ That was it in a nutshell, wasn’t it? Emma wasn’t sure. ‘It’s a bit complicated.’

‘Ah-h…’ Tom sounded sympathetic but polite. He was still trying to bend whatever piece of metal was trapping Emma’s leg. He was also clearly trying to distract her with some conversation but didn’t want to tread on any ground that was too personal. ‘So you were heading for Christchurch?’

‘Yes.’

‘My home town.’

‘Really?’ Why did that suddenly make the largest city in South Island a much more attractive destination?

‘Yep.’ Tom grunted with the effort he was putting into trying to shift the piece of metal. ‘Not necessarily a tourist Mecca, though. How come you’re not heading for Queenstown or Milford?’

‘Mickey’s father lives in Christchurch.’

‘Oh…’ The sound carried a wealth of understanding this time. Too much. ‘He must be looking forward to seeing you guys.’

‘He doesn’t know we’re coming.’ Emma wasn’t sure why she was blurting out so much information here. Maybe her fear was still too real. If she didn’t make it, someone would have to take responsibility for getting Mickey back to his grandparents.

‘You’re separated?’ Tom looked up for an instant which gave the impression he was particularly interested in her response.

‘We were never together.’

‘Oh…right.’ Tom bent his head again. Emma could feel his hand on her leg, searching for a better position to tackle the obstacle. She could also feel his puzzlement.

Of course they had been together. Mickey’s conception had hardly been immaculate, had it?

‘I ended the relationship,’ Emma explained, ‘the day I found out I was pregnant with Mickey.’

Tom’s face appeared even more swiftly. ‘You mean he doesn’t know about Mickey yet?’

Emma could sense his disapproval. As though she had disappointed him on some level involving honesty or morality. The need to defend herself was the best distraction he’d come up with so far.

‘Simon hadn’t seen fit…to tell me that he was married,’ she informed Tom. ‘So I didn’t really feel he was automatically entitled to the truth from me.’

Funny how being faced with the possibility of losing her life hadn’t made the guilt go away. In fact, it had just grown stronger, inexplicably fed by the sense of disapproval from a man who was a complete stranger. A stranger she was dependent on if she was going to make it out of this.

Maybe she could help him understand.

‘Have you got kids, Tom?’

‘Hell, no!’ The sound Tom made could only be described as a relieved chuckle. ‘I’ve managed to avoid them so far.’

So he didn’t like children, this hero who had just saved her own child? She was curious that the information should seem so disappointing but he had saved Mickey so Emma decided she should just feel grateful. He was risking his own life again to try and save her and there was no amount of gratitude that could ever encompass that. Especially when success was far from guaranteed.

As if to emphasise the point, the van suddenly moved. It rocked and then twisted and Emma cried out in alarm. The cry changed to a choking sound as water broke over her face and for a few moments Emma lost her focus on what was happening. Panic clawed at her and she struggled, aware of a sharp pain in her foot and a vice-like grip around her upper body.

‘Emma! Emma! Try and hold still for just a bit longer. We’re almost there.’

How many times had Tom repeated his command before the words made sense? Before Emma stopped coughing and spluttering and struggling to try and escape?

‘I’m…sorry,’she finally sobbed. ‘I’m just so scared.’

‘I know.’ Tom’s words were clipped enough for Emma to realise that she wasn’t the only one scared by the new movement of the vehicle.

‘You should get out…while you still can, Tom.’

‘No way, babe. We’re getting out of this together.’ He was pulling at her foot. It hurt like hell but Emma tried to help, pulling as hard as she could.

‘Try turning your foot,’ Tom instructed. ‘We’re almost—’

His words were cut off as the van shifted again. This time it rolled sideways far enough to put Emma’s head right under water. For one paralysing moment she couldn’t think of anything more than the horror of drowning.

Then she felt that strong grasp still holding her leg. She remembered the last words she’d heard and twisted her leg, pushing instead of pulling at her foot.

And something moved. Her foot was free. Her leg was being dragged upwards, away from the crumpled compartment. Emma’s whole body was moving upwards and for a moment her head was above water again. Just long enough to gulp in a lungful of air and to realise that Tom was trying to move her through the window gap into the back of the van. To where the side door was that he’d entered.

But was that still above water?

Emma had lost all sense of direction. All sense of time. Her body was ahead of her brain in shutting out the horror and her limbs felt heavy and lifeless. Powerless to assist Tom in any way, Emma just floated, aware of nothing but the strength of the arms holding her so tightly and the determination she could feel emanating from the owner of those arms.

If they could survive by sheer willpower, Tom was providing more than enough for both of them.

Emma was dimly aware of being outside the van because an icy wind sent an unbelievable chill right into the marrow of her bones and the noise from the helicopter hovering close overhead was deafening.

Tom was shouting but the instructions didn’t seem to be for her, which was just as well because Emma’s lips were too numb to move. Her eyelids drooped and she knew that the effort of trying to open them again would be too great. And maybe that was just as well because the image being cut off was that of the vehicle she’d just been trapped inside.

Somehow they were above it now but still very, very close. Close enough to be bumped and swayed as the van tilted sharply and then swung out into the whirls of the river’s main current, with only its tyres visible.

Even the noise and shouting faded then but Emma clung to the sensation that was the only thing of importance.

The security of the arms still around her.

Holding her.

Keeping her alive.

Tom felt the instant that Emma went completely limp in his arms and something akin to anger took hold.

Had he just gone through the most dangerous rescue mission of his career only to fail? There had been no time to even assess the degree of trauma Emma had suffered to her lower leg. What if that piece of twisted metal had been tamponading an arterial bleed and he hadn’t had the opportunity to prevent her bleeding to death in the tense minutes of getting her out of the van and winched up to the helicopter?

Time slowed and it seemed to take for ever to get her on board the aircraft and then to get himself inside. In less than a minute Terry had the chopper on safe ground but Tom was barely aware of landing. He was crouched over Emma, tilting her head back to ensure her airway was open. Trying to assess whether or not she was still breathing.

Josh was filling the rest of the space in the cabin.

‘Carotid pulse,’ he said, ‘but no radial. What’s your estimation of blood loss?’

‘Too much.’ Tom could see fresh blood loss on the shredded denim of Emma’s jeans. He didn’t need to remind Josh of the urgency of controlling the haemorrhage. His partner was already ripping open dressing and bandage packages.

Tom pulled down an oxygen mask and flicked the flow to full bore. He put the mask on Emma’s face and eased the elastic behind her head.

‘It’s OK,’he told her. ‘We’re safe now, Emma. You’re going to be fine.’

Her face was deathly pale, framed by the long, wet tresses of dark hair.

‘She’s hypothermic,’ Tom warned Josh. ‘I’ll get a cardiac monitor on.’

‘Can’t feel any broken bones here.’ Josh was taping the pressure bandage in place on Emma’s leg. ‘Could be just soft-tissue injury. How’s her breathing?’

‘Shallow,’ Tom responded. ‘But chest wall movement looks equal.’ He had been waiting for the rotors of the helicopter to slow enough to make using a stethoscope useful. ‘Sounds clear enough,’he reported moments later.

‘Could be some abdominal trauma.’ Josh had cut the top of Emma’s jeans with shears and pulled the rest of her shirt clear. Tom felt his heart sink as he saw the ugly purple mark marring an expanse of perfect pale skin. If Emma had ruptured her spleen on top of losing blood from the injury to her leg, they may well be too late in starting a fight to prevent her slide into irreversible shock.

Fluids were needed, stat. Wide-bore lines—one in each arm. Pressure cuffs to get the fluid where it was urgently needed—to pump up blood volume and keep enough oxygen circulating to prevent cellular death.

She also needed rapid transport to hospital. The rotors of their aircraft were still turning as Terry kept the helicopter idling. As soon as he and Josh were happy that Emma was stable, they would take off again. With fluids running and the cardiac monitor revealing an overly rapid but normal pattern, take-off was only seconds away.

There had been another reason for landing near the collection of emergency vehicles dotting the lip of the river canyon, however.

‘We need to get the kid,’ Tom reminded Josh.

‘But he’s fine,’ Josh responded. ‘Not a scratch on him apparently. He could go by road.’

‘No.’ Tom shook his head. ‘Mickey needs to come with Emma.’

What if she regained consciousness en route and the distress at having been separated from her child worsened the situation? If Tom had needed any persuasion to stick to his preferred option, it came when Emma’s head rolled to one side and then back again. Her eyelids fluttered open and an arm trailing an IV line was raised as her hand reached towards Tom.

‘Mickey…’

It was the only word Emma uttered but it was more than enough for Josh to nod agreement. He climbed out the rear door and was back in a very short time with a tiny boy clutched in his arms.

‘Mickey’s here,’ Tom told Emma. ‘He’s coming with us.’

‘Mummy!’

The word was lost in engine noise but it was easy to lip-read. Even easier to read the joy of reunion on that small face. Mickey was actually grinning as he caught sight of his mother. Way too small to match those huge, dark eyes and with a now nearly dry mop of tousled, black curls, Mickey had to be the cutest kid Tom had ever seen.

‘Mummy’s asleep just now,’ he shouted carefully. ‘She’s not feeling too well and we’re going to have another ride in the helicopter so that we can take her to the hospital.’

Fear clouded the dark eyes now and Mickey’s bottom lip trembled. How much did the boy understand? With his disability, it was possible that the boy had had quite a lot of experience of hospitals. Maybe enough to know that some people who went into one never came out again?

‘Mummy’s going to be fine,’ he added firmly. ‘This is just another part of your adventure, OK?’

That earned him a suspicious stare and the reminder that Mickey had already declared his dislike of Tom. Still, the child made no protest as Josh strapped him into the seat. The extra passenger made it more awkward to work around Emma but it was a short trip of less than thirty minutes and Emma remained stable.

Better than stable, in fact. With at least the external bleeding controlled and rapid infusion of fluids, Emma’s level of consciousness improved steadily. By the time she was lifted from the stretcher to the bed in the resuscitation area of the emergency department under the watchful gaze of the assembled trauma team, Emma was awake.

‘Mickey,’ she said anxiously. ‘Where’s my son?’

‘He’s being taken care of.’ The doctor in charge of Emma’s airway leaned over her reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. We need to focus on you for a little while.’

There had been no chance to complete any of the paperwork a job like this generated but, having given all the information he could during the patient handover, Tom was only to happy to use the task as an excuse to stay in Resus, taking over an out-of-the-way corner of a bench.

He had to move a couple of times, to go behind the reinforced glass as X-rays were taken. He was still there when the ultrasound technician arrived with the equipment needed to examine Emma’s abdomen.

Josh appeared right behind the bulky machine.

‘I’ve got a date tonight, mate. If I’m late again, I’m going to be in big trouble. You’re finishing the paperwork, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah. I just wanted to find out what the verdict is on Emma’s leg. There’s a surgical consult that should-n’t be too far away.’

‘That’ll take hours. You know what it’s like around here. They haven’t even started that ultrasound.’ Josh gave Tom a curious glance. ‘If you’re that keen on following up, why don’t you drop back in on your way home? After we’ve signed off.’

Tom could understand his partner’s eagerness. They were at the end of four days of active duty and about to start their four days off. He was looking forward to the time off himself but he hadn’t had a chance to talk to Emma again yet because of the level of activity around her bed. And he hadn’t even been to check up on how young Mickey was doing.

Neither reason was any excuse to stay in the emergency department, of course, and if they’d been scrambled for another callout Tom would have gone instantly, without a backward glance.

Well, maybe he would have looked over his shoulder but that was perfectly understandable, wasn’t it? This rescue had been a major incident. The thought of what could have happened if they’d failed could well come back to haunt him. It was no wonder Tom felt he needed a little more closure than normal.