Once Upon a Christmas (29 page)

The way his mouth hovered tantalisingly close to hers.

Her breathing was shallow. He was so close that the temptation just to lift her mouth to his and finish what they’d started was enormous.

‘I don’t feel like a city girl any more.’

He gave a slow smile that was so unbelievably sexy that she felt her tummy tumble. ‘Oh, dear,’ he said softly, touching her cheek with his finger. ‘In that case, it wouldn’t be safe to let you go back to London. The big city is no place for a girl from the country.’

Helen chuckled but there was no escaping the fact that soon she would have to make a decision. She’d been given a month to drift. A month in which Bryony had given her a home and Oliver had given her a job. But that month was up in another week.

And she needed to make a decision about what she was going to do with her life.

Tom dropped by the following morning while they were having breakfast to tell them that Lily had given birth to a little girl in the early hours of the morning.

‘Tell me she was OK.’ Oliver’s expression was strained and Tom gave a long sigh.

‘She was fine.’ He yawned. ‘I was there, wasn’t I?’

‘You didn’t need to section her?’

Tom frowned. ‘Why is everyone so obsessed with Caesarian sections these days? Believe it or not, women actually are designed to give birth, you know.’ He helped himself to a mug from the cupboard and poured himself a coffee.

‘So what happened?’

‘You want a report on each contraction?’

Oliver rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and gave a wry smile. ‘Am I that bad?’

‘Yes.’ Tom pulled out a chair and straddled it. ‘But I forgive you because it’s true that Lily was in a bad state, emotionally at least. She actually did have some damage from the previous delivery and it did cross my mind that I might have to section her, but she was so traumatised by the fact she felt so out of control last time that I decided to take a risk.’

‘Her scar could have opened up.’

‘In which case I would have repaired it,’ Tom said calmly. ‘As it is, Emma and I put her in the birthing pool, played her some music, kept her calm and she did it all by herself. Very relaxed. The sort of birth they have in the movies. You would have approved.’

Oliver looked at his brother. ‘You stayed with her the whole time.’

‘That was your request, I believe,’ Tom drawled, leaning forward and helping himself to a piece of toast. ‘I’ll send you my bill.’

‘How did you manage to not get called away? You always get called to handle the difficult stuff. Or wasn’t there any difficult stuff?’

‘There’s always difficult stuff in obstetrics,’ Tom said dryly. ‘Babies insist on doing the unexpected instead of coming down the right route facing the right way. Last night I delegated. I happened to agree with you that Lily was important. And, actually, my registrar is showing a great deal of promise, which helps.’

‘Well, thanks.’ Oliver gave his brother a nod, his blue eyes warm. ‘I’ll buy you a drink tonight.’

‘You will indeed.’ Tom rose to his feet and reached for his jacket. ‘I’m off. I just popped in to tell you about Lily.’

‘What are you doing today?’

‘Climbing. Ben and I are going together. Ellie has given him time off for good behaviour.’

Oliver grinned. ‘Don’t fall. I don’t want to have to come out and rescue you.’

‘Don’t push your luck, bro.’ Tom nodded to Helen in a friendly way and walked towards the door. ‘By the way …’ He turned back to Oliver, his eyes gleaming slightly. ‘Isn’t that roof of yours finished by now?’

Oliver smiled. ‘It’s coming along well,’ he said softly. ‘Very well indeed.’

‘Glad to hear it because I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that Bryony and Jack are back next Saturday.’ His eyes flicked to Helen and she smiled.

‘I know. It’s decision-making time. Find somewhere to live or go back to London.’

Tom looked at her for a long moment. ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t have any trouble finding somewhere to live if you decide to stay.’ He transferred his gaze to his brother. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’

He walked out and Oliver looked at Helen. ‘The sun is shining, the sky is blue and there’s snow on the ground. Fancy a walk?’

She nodded. ‘It’s been a busy week. I was hoping you’d suggest it.’

‘Let’s get going, then.’

They walked in companionable silence, their footsteps muffled by the snow, the air still and calm.

When they finally stopped for a rest, their breath clouded the freezing air.

Oliver stared up at the sky with a frown. ‘The weather is closing in. We should probably turn back soon.’ He pulled a flask out of the rucksack and poured them both a drink. He handed a cup to Helen and then muttered under his breath as his mobile phone went off. ‘Here …’ He handed her his mug, too. ‘Hold this for a sec, will you, please?’

While he answered the phone, Helen glanced up at the sky, too. When they’d started out they’d been able to see the tops of all the peaks. Now they were shrouded in mist.

Suddenly she gave a little shiver, relieved that she was with Oliver. It was frightening how quickly the weather could change in the mountains.

Oliver was talking on the phone, screwing up his face slightly as he tried to decipher the crackle. ‘You’re not very clear.’ He listened again and then nodded. ‘That’s better. OK, where is he?’ There was another silence and then Oliver turned and glanced up the path. ‘We’re about half an hour from there.’

Helen felt herself tense. It was obviously a call from the mountain rescue centre. Was someone in trouble?

Oliver was still listening. ‘We can be there faster than that. OK, send them, and I’ll give you a call when we find him.’

He snapped the phone shut and retrieved his drink from Helen’s fingers. Then he poured it carefully back into the flask, untouched.

‘We might be needing this,’ he muttered. ‘A guy used his mobile phone to call the team. He was slurring his words and not making much sense. He wasn’t that coherent and
he couldn’t be precise about his position, but Angie, who runs the bed and breakfast at the bottom of the valley, says he was seen heading up here first thing this morning. Apparently he’s been staying with her for a few days on his own. He’s in his fifties and overweight.’

‘I hope he hasn’t had a heart attack up here. He won’t stand a chance, surely?’ Helen quickly handed him her drink as well. ‘I gather you want to try and find him yourself?’

Oliver let out a long breath. ‘Well, they’re sending the team out of course, but we’re already halfway up his last known route so it seems sensible that we’re the advance party. Do you mind? If he is where they think he should be then we can get to him quickly. In this weather time can make the difference between life and death. And I wouldn’t do it if I thought there was any risk to you.’

He stroked a hand gently over her cheek and Helen felt her heart turn over.

She couldn’t remember anyone ever making her feel so cared for.

She smiled. ‘Of course we must go.’ Even as she said the words, nerves fluttered in her stomach. She just hoped she didn’t let him down.

She watched as he repacked his rucksack and lifted it onto his broad shoulders, trying not to think about the fact that the weather was closing in and fingers of cold were reaching inside her weatherproof jacket.

‘That’s my girl.’ Oliver grinned and his eyes were warm with approval. ‘Time to prove yourself, townie. We’ve been walking for the best part of three hours. It’ll take a while
for the rest of the team to assemble at base and then get themselves up here. So we’re the advance party.’

Helen glanced at him. ‘Just remember that I don’t know anything about mountain rescue.’

‘I’m the mountain rescue bit,’ Oliver assured her firmly. ‘You’re my first-aid partner and general helper. If that man is having a heart attack in the mountains, I’m going to need your help.’

Helen peered doubtfully through the mist, wondering how steep the path became, and as if reading her mind Oliver reached into the rucksack and pulled out some gear.

‘There is a bit of a drop up here,’ he said honestly, ‘but you won’t be able to see it because of the mist. Just to make you feel safe, I’m going to clip a rope to you and attach it to myself. OK?’

More than OK.

Helen felt his strong hands fiddle with something at her waist and he jerked straps and adjusted buckles until he finally gave a grunt of satisfaction and clipped a rope to her.

This time Oliver walked with a sense of purpose, his pace steady as they climbed through the mist. Every now and then he stopped and checked their position and Helen stood still, not wanting to distract him and trying not to look over the edge. Because by now there was definitely an edge and she didn’t want think about the drop.

‘Footprints.’ Oliver squatted down for a moment and then straightened. ‘Could be his. On the other hand, it hasn’t snowed for a couple of days so they could belong to someone else.’

His words were swallowed up by the roar of the waterfall
that crashed down next to them and Helen winced as she felt the freezing spray on her face.

‘It’s really hard to make yourself heard here because of the noise of the waterfall,’ Oliver shouted. ‘It’s virtually non-existent in summer but in the winter it powers down the mountain like a damn with a leak.’ He broke off and his jaw tightened. ‘Apparently, when he called, they could hear the falls in the background so he must be up this path somewhere if he took a direct route from the bed and breakfast.’

Helen squinted into the mist. ‘Could he be the other side of the ghyll?’

Oliver shook his head. ‘That’s definitely not a tourist route. We’ll carry on up here. My guess is we’ll find him on this path. I reckon those are probably his footprints.’

But there was no sign of anyone and Oliver’s loud calls were virtually drowned by the sound of torrents of water thundering against the rocks.

His expression was grim and he glanced up the path. ‘Come on, let’s get going. We need to be a bit higher up.’

Higher up?

Helen took a deep breath and told herself that it wasn’t possible to be afraid of heights if the mist was concealing the drop. That would be too stupid for words. She just needed to look at Oliver instead of the edge.

So she fixed her eyes on his broad shoulders and made a point of stepping where he stepped.

And then Oliver stopped dead, his gaze fixed on the snowy path.

Helen followed his line of vision. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Well, the footprints end here—the snow looks crushed.
As if someone fell.’ He bent down and touched it with his glove, a frown on his handsome face. ‘And some of the snow has been knocked off the edge …’

Realising what he was suggesting, Helen stared at him in horror. ‘You think he fell?’

‘He was certainly alive when he made the call.’ Oliver straightened up, pulled her back away from the edge and unclipped her rope.

‘Stand there and don’t move,’ he said firmly. ‘You’ll be fine. I just want to see if I can spot him. He may not be there at all, of course, but I have this feeling—’

He removed his rucksack and Helen watched while he pulled out a rope and various other bits and pieces that she couldn’t identify.

Then he walked towards the edge and shouted something.

Helen strained her ears to see if she could hear a reply but the roar of the water was almost deafening.

Oliver suddenly vanished from sight and Helen felt her heart lurch. Without his reassuring presence the mountains suddenly seemed less welcoming. She glanced around her but the mist created an unnerving stillness that made her shiver.

She looked hopefully towards the edge again but there was no sign of Oliver.

There was no point in shouting because she knew he couldn’t hear her so she stayed where she was for a few more minutes and then gingerly inched towards the edge.

Telling herself that he might need her help, Helen forced herself forwards until she could peer into the ghyll. The mist prevented her from seeing very far and the roar of the
water was almost deafening. Huge rocks loomed into her vision, shiny from the spray of water and interspersed with patches of frozen snow. And finally she saw Oliver below her, balanced on a rock, holding onto the body of a man.

At first Helen thought the man must be unconscious but then she saw him move and felt a flood of relief.

At least they weren’t dealing with a body.

She watched in horror as Oliver dragged the slumped figure as far away from the edge as possible, his face damp from the spray of the water.

She closed her eyes briefly, forcing herself to face the inevitable. It was perfectly obvious that he needed help and the only help available was her. Which meant going down the rock to him.

Could she do that?

She stared down at the glistening surface and decided that there seemed to be quite a few handholds.

Without allowing time for her fright to grow any further, she took a deep breath and turned around, lowering herself gingerly over the rock. At least it was misty so she couldn’t see the extent of the drop.

Trying to ignore the biting cold, she moved slowly, lowering herself carefully, only moving a hand when she was sure that both feet were firmly placed on something solid. Once she slipped and her insides dropped with fear until she felt her feet once more rest safely on the rock.

Her heart still pounding ridiculously fast, she risked a hesitant glance downwards and for a brief moment the mist cleared, showing her the steep, vertiginous drop to the bottom.

Oh, dear God …

Her vision blurred and she closed her eyes immediately, clinging to the rock as panic swamped her usually rational brain.

‘It’s all right, angel, I’ve got you.’ Oliver’s voice, firm and masculine, came from right underneath her. The next moment he was next to her, one strong arm fastened firmly around her waist, securing her to the rock. ‘I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re not going to fall. Take a few deep breaths and don’t look down.’

He felt solid and safe and Helen felt herself relax slightly.

Then she remembered what was below her.

‘I know I’m being pathetic, but I don’t think I can move, Oliver,’ she said shakily, hating herself for being so useless but horribly aware of the vicious drop that lay below them.