‘You’ve got to say goodbye.’ Ellie was close to tears. ‘Actually, we’ll come out to the river crossing with you. We can follow you in the ute. Just in case there’s a problem.’
‘There won’t be a problem.’
To her dismay, her tears were threatening to fall. ‘Joe, humour me. I want to see you safely off this property.’
For the first time, a faint smile glimmered. ‘Of course you do.’
* * *
Ellie parked on a ridge above the concrete causeway that crossed the river and peered through the rain at the frothing, muddy flood rushing below.
She could see the bright blue of Joe’s hire car parked just above the waterline and his dark-coated figure standing on the bank, hands on hips as he studied the river.
‘I think it’s already too high,’ she said glumly to Jacko. The river level was much, much higher than she’d expected. Clearly, the waters from the north had already reached them overnight.
She felt a flurry of panic. Did this mean that Joe would have to stay with them for Christmas after all? How on earth would they cope with the strain?
Even as she wondered this, Joe took off his coat, tossed it back into his vehicle, then began to walk back to the swirling current.
He wasn’t going in there, surely?
‘Joe!’ Ellie yelled, leaping out of the ute. ‘Don’t be mad. You can’t go in there.’
He showed no sign that he’d heard her. No doubt he was as keen to leave her as she was to see him go, but marching into a racing torrent was madness.
Ellie rushed down the track. ‘Joe, stop!’ The river was mud-brown and seething. ‘You can’t go in there,’ she panted as she reached him.
He scowled and shook his head. ‘It’s OK. I just need to check the condition of the crossing and the depth. It’s too risky to drive straight in there, but I can at least test it on foot. I’ll be careful. I think it’s still shallow enough to get the car across.’
‘But look how fast the water’s running. I know you’re keen to get away, but you don’t have to play the tough hero now, Joe.’ Knowing how stubborn he could be, she tried for a joke. ‘I don’t want to have to tell Jacko that his father was a moron who was washed away trying to cross a flooded river.’
Joe’s blue eyes flashed through the sheeting rain. ‘I’ve been trained to stay alive, not to take senseless risks.’ He jerked his head towards the ute. ‘If you’re worried about Jacko, you should get back up there and stay with him.’
Ellie threw up her hands in despair. She’d more or less encouraged, or rather urged, Joe to leave. But as she stood there debating how to stop her ex from risking his neck, she heard her little son calling to her.
‘Go to him,’ ordered Joe.
Utterly wretched, she began to walk back up the slope, turning every step to look over her shoulder as Joe approached the river. By the time she reached the ute, Joe was already in the water and in no time he was up to his knees.
Anxiously, she watched as he carefully felt the ground in front of him with one foot. He edged forward but, despite the obvious care he was taking, a sudden swift surge in the current buffeted him, making him sidestep to regain his balance.
‘Joe!’ she yelled, sticking her head out into the rain. ‘That’s enough! Get out!’
‘Joe, that’s ‘nuff!’ parroted Jacko.
A tree branch hurtled past Joe, almost sweeping him with it.
Turn back. Ellie was urging him, under her breath now, so she didn’t alarm Jacko.
To her relief, Joe must have realised his venture was useless. At last he turned and began to make his way back to the bank.
But Ellie’s relief was short-lived, of course. Sure, she was grateful that Joe hadn’t drowned himself, but she had no idea how they could live together amicably till the river levels dropped. It would take days, possibly weeks, and the strain would be intolerable.
She was so busy worrying about the challenge of sharing Christmas with her ex that she didn’t actually see what happened next.
It seemed that Joe was standing perfectly upright one moment, and then he suddenly toppled sideways and his dark head disappeared beneath the ugly brown water.
* * *
Joe had no warning.
He had a firm footing on the causeway, but with the next step there was no concrete beneath him and he was struggling to regain his balance. Before he could adjust his weight, he slid off the edge.
He felt a sudden jarring scrape against his leg as he was pulled down into the bowels of the dark, angry river.
He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.
Scorching pain shot up his calf, and now he discovered that he also couldn’t move. His foot was jammed between the broken section of the concrete causeway and a rock.
Hell. This was it. He’d survived four years of war and now he was going to die here. In front of Ellie and Jacko.
He was a brainless idiot. What had Ellie called him? A moron. She was dead right. No question.
And now... As his lungs strained for air, frantic memories flashed. The first time he’d seen Ellie in the outback café. The first time they’d kissed.
Last night and the chubby, sweet weight of Jacko in his arms.
His signature, acknowledging their divorce.
Don’t freaking panic, man.
This was a major stuff-up, but he’d been trained to think.
He had to forget about the pain in his leg and his dire need for air and he had to work out a plan. Fast.
Clearly, his first priority was to get his head above water, but he was anchored by his trapped leg and the massive force of the rushing river. There was only one possible course of action. He had to brace against the current and use every ounce of his upper body strength, especially his stomach muscles, to pull himself upright.
Almost certainly, he couldn’t have done it without his years in the Army and its daily routine of rugged physical training.
As he fought his way upright, his arm bumped a steel rod sticking out of the concrete. As soon as he grabbed it, he had the leverage to finally lift his head above the surface.
He dragged a great, gasping gulp of air. And immediately he heard Ellie’s cry.
‘Joe! Oh, God, Joe!’
She was in the river, making her way towards him through the seething, perilous water. Her dark hair was plastered to her head, framing her very white, frightened face, and she looked too slender and too fragile and too totally vulnerable.
At any moment, she would be whipped away downstream and Joe knew he wouldn’t have a chance in hell of saving her. In the same moment, he thought of trusting little Jacko strapped in his car seat, needing Ellie.
‘Get back,’ he roared to her. ‘Stay on the bank. I’m OK.’
‘You’re not. Let me help you.’
‘No,’ he bellowed angrily. ‘Get back!’
He, at least, had something to hang on to, which was more than Ellie had. ‘There’s no point in both of us getting into trouble. If you’re washed away, I won’t be able to help you. For God’s sake, Ellie, stay there. Think of Jacko. What happens to him, if neither of us gets out?’
This seemed to get through to her at last. She stood there with the river seething about her ankles, clearly tormented by difficult choices, but at least she’d