‘WOW, LOOK AT that glorious view!’
Stifling her impatience, Livvy glanced back across the scree slope to the valley floor stretched out below them, the late spring grass a splash of vivid green. In the distance Buttermere lay like a gleaming mirror, the bleak slate hills behind it rich purple in the sun.
And between her and the view—admittedly glorious—was Matt, dawdling his way up the winding, rocky path and driving her nuts because it was the last day of their team-building exercise in Cumbria and there was a trophy at stake.
They’d been there since Friday, four teams all in some way connected to the emergency department of Yoxburgh Park Hospital; Sam and Vicky from the ED, Dan and Lucy from Orthopaedics, and Ed and Beth from Paediatrics, which had left her and Matt as the Trauma team.
She’d only started at the hospital a few weeks ago and she’d met him a few times fleetingly when he’d come down to the ED, but ever since they’d arrived at the lodge and sat down together to decide who would be in each team, she and Matt had seemed a natural fit.
‘Are you OK with that?’ she’d asked at the time, and he’d nodded, his grin a little cheeky.
‘Yeah, suits me. You’re small enough that I can pick you up if you dawdle.’
‘I don’t dawdle, and you’d better not!’
‘Don’t worry, Livvy, I think I can just about keep up with you,’ he’d said drily, and he had, seemingly effortlessly. They’d tackled all manner of challenges, and he’d been witty, mischievous, not above cheating and game for anything Sam threw at them.
Until now. Now, with everything to play for, he was stopping to admire the view?
Yes, it was beautiful, and if they had time she’d stop and drink it in, but they didn’t because so far the four teams were neck and neck, so the first to the summit of Haystacks would take the crown. And Matt was trailing.
Deliberately?
‘Are you dawdling on purpose or just studying my backside?’ she asked, hands on hips and her head cocked to one side, and he stopped just below her, a smile playing around that really rather gorgeous mouth that she was itching to kiss.
He took a step closer, curling his hands around her hips and sending shivers of something interesting through her. They were standing eye to eye, and his mouth was so close now...
His smile widened, crows’ feet bracketing those laughing eyes the colour of the slate that surrounded them, and he shook his head slowly from side to side.
‘Cute though it is, and it has been worth watching, I’ll admit, I was actually studying the scenery then.’ The smile faded, replaced by awe. ‘Stop and look around you, Livvy, just for a moment. It’s so beautiful and you’re missing it—and anyway, it’s only supposed to be fun!’
She sighed, knowing he was right, but still impatient. ‘I know, but we can’t let Sam catch us now, we’ll never hear the end of it. We can look on the way back when we’ve won.’
He shook his head again and laughed. ‘You’re so competitive. Just be careful, that edge is unstable. Why don’t you let me go first?’
She laughed at him and took a step backwards out of reach. ‘What, to slow me down? No way. And besides, I’m always careful,’ she threw over her shoulder as she turned, and then she took another step and the ground vanished beneath her feet...
* * *
‘Livvy—!’
He lunged for her, his fingers brushing her flailing arm, but she was gone before he could grab her, her scream slicing the air as she fell. And then the scream stopped abruptly, leaving just a fading echo, and his blood ran cold.
She was below him, lying like a rag doll against a rock, crumpled and motionless, and for a moment he was frozen.
No. Please, God, no...
‘Livvy, I’m coming. Hang on,’ he yelled, and scanned the slope, found a safe route that wouldn’t send more rocks showering down on her and scrambled down, half running, half sliding across the shale. Fast, but not too fast. Not so fast that he’d put himself in danger, too, because that wouldn’t help either of them.
As he got closer he could see her shoulders heaving, as if she was fighting for breath, and then as he got to her side she sucked in a small breath, rolled onto her back and started to pant jerkily, and his legs turned to jelly.
She was breathing. Not well, but she wasn’t dead...
He took her hand and gripped it gently. ‘It’s OK, Livvy, I’m here, I’ve got you. You’re OK now. Just keep breathing, nice and slow. That’s it. Well done.’
Her eyes locked on his, and after a moment her breathing steadied, and he felt his shoulders drop with relief.
‘What—happened? Can’t—breathe...’
‘Just take it steady, you’ll recover soon,’ he said, his voice calm, his heart still pounding and his mind running through all the things that might be damaged. Starting with her head... ‘I think you’ve been winded. Stay there a minute—’
‘Can’t. I need to sit up.’
He gritted his teeth. ‘OK, but don’t do it if you think you’ve got any other injuries.’
‘No. Haven’t,’ she said, and she struggled up into a sitting position and propped herself against the rock that had stopped her fall.
‘Ah—!’
‘OK?’
She nodded, shifting slightly, her breathing slowing, and she closed her eyes briefly.
‘Yeah. That’s better. The path just—went.’
So she remembered that, at least. ‘“I’m always careful”,’ he quoted drily, and she laughed weakly as relief kicked in.
‘Well, nobody’s—perfect,’ she said after a moment, and then her eyes welled and he reached out a hand and brushed the soft blond hair back from her face with fingers that weren’t quite steady, scanning her face for bruises.
‘Are you OK now? You scared me half to death.’
She met his eyes with a wry smile, and for once the sparkle in her eyes wasn’t mischief. ‘That depends on your—definition of OK. I’m alive, I can breathe—just, I can feel everything, I can move, so yeah—I guess I’m OK. Do I hurt? Oh, yeah. These rocks are hard.’
‘I’m sure. Don’t move. Let me check you over.’
‘You just want to get your hands on me,’ she quipped, her breath still catching.
‘Yeah, right,’ he said lightly, trying not to think about that right now because however true it might be, he could see she was in pain. He simply wanted to be sure she didn’t have any life-threatening injuries and then maybe his heart could slow down a bit. ‘Why don’t you let me do my job?’ he added gently, trying to stick to business.
‘Yes, Doctor.’
‘Well, at least you can remember that. How many fingers am I holding up?’
‘Twelve.’