A Father Beyond Compare. Alison Roberts
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Название: A Father Beyond Compare
Автор: Alison Roberts
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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‘Wind’s come up a bit,’ Terry said. ‘I’m not sure about this, Tom.’
‘We’ve done it once. We can do it again.’
‘You really sure you want to try?’
Tom looked at Mickey again. Then he looked down at the swirling river and the van that contained his mother.
‘Oh, yeah…I’m sure.’
Terry grunted. Josh shook his head as he turned to the winch control panel and his voice sounded resigned.
‘Checking winch power. Clear skids.’
Terry’s permission was equally reluctant but it came nonetheless a second later.
‘Clear skids.’
With a final glance and a thumbs-up signal for the tiny boy looking lost inside an adult-sized harness, Tom began his second descent.
Looking way downriver from the vantage point of his altitude, Tom could see vehicular activity on a stony shore where the canyon widened again. Red and blue lights flashed and figures could be seen emerging from the four-wheel-drive rescue Jeeps. Large black rafts were carried on trailers.
They weren’t even in the water yet but at least they were nearby. If the worst happened and the van got swept away, Tom would just have to find a way to free Emma and then keep her afloat until a boat reached them. It wasn’t an impossible task.
It couldn’t be.
Unhooking his winch cable as his feet touched the side of the van felt no less horrible despite the practice run. The metal seemed more slippery and the van less stable. Tom’s fingers missed the handle on the first sweep and he was aware of a very unfamiliar sensation too close to panic. It was impossible to take a deep breath to steady himself with the amount of water splashing around him. If he missed the handle on the second try he would have to aim for the wheel and his weight on that might be enough to tip them all towards disaster.
When he caught the handle and the door slid open of its own accord Tom realised just how much the van’s position had changed and there was no relief to be found in gaining access. Had Emma managed to keep her head above the water level? Was she still conscious?
‘Emma! Can you hear me?’ Tom waded through the water and debris, almost falling in his haste to reach the gap. He ignored the rocking of the vehicle—the silence he could detect around him was far more ominous.
‘Emma!’
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 СКАЧАТЬ