It had taken a long time to screw up the courage to ask her out on a date. He’d had to fight the doubts about how unlikely it was that she could be as interested in him. She was years older than he was. Older and wiser and with a circle of friends that were part of a very different world but the attraction was so strong, he’d had to try.
The sheer delight that she seemed to think it was a great idea had been short-lived. She’d seen it as no more than a mate suggesting a team outing, in fact, because she’d shared the invitation with those around them, including the new guy who’d just joined the team—a good-looking firie by the name of Pete Thompson.
And it had been that very night—that had been supposed to be his first date with Harriet—that the spark had been ignited between her and Pete. Jack had felt every jolt of electricity that had passed between them and every one of them had been tipped with the flame of rejection. Of not being good enough. Of not having the kind of charisma that blokes like Pete Thompson had. He knew that that charisma often came with a price. That they were often shallow, egotistical people.
But there’d been nothing that he could do, other than watch it happen. And accelerate. And he’d got over it. So Harriet wasn’t for him? It didn’t matter. They were still friends and he’d find someone else who made him feel this way—without those doubts that he’d made the mistake of ignoring. One of these days, he would experience that ‘falling in love’ business. Preferably with someone that he knew he would want to spend the rest of his life with.
Someone like Harriet Collins maybe, but with some island blood so that she could embrace being part of an extended family that could sometimes smother you with the responsibilities of belonging but would never tolerate being shut out of any dark times in your life.
The way Harriet had shut him out.
It still hurt, Jack realised, as they got close enough to where his crewmate, Matt, was leaning out of the chopper door, ready to pull Harriet to safety and unclip the nappy harness. It was almost a relief when he couldn’t feel the shape of her body against his any longer.
He’d wanted to hold her in his arms so much, that day, when he’d gone to see her after the accident, still reeling from the shock of witnessing that rockfall on their team day out in the Blue Mountains with a day of abseiling training underway. He’d seen that rock hit Harriet and the fear that she’d been killed had made it seem like the ground had been opening up beneath him. A world without Harriet Collins could never be quite the same. He’d had to swipe tears of relief from his face when he’d heard that she’d come through the surgery and still had her leg but he’d known the moment he’d walked into her room for that first visit that even getting close enough to touch her wasn’t going to be welcomed.
She’d put up a barrier that might have been transparent but it was impenetrable. And, from what Jack had heard over the last months, he hadn’t been the only person who’d been relegated to the other side of that barrier. Harriet’s life had fallen apart after the accident but it had been deemed none of his business, however much he might have wanted to try and help.
But she had needed his help today.
Welcomed it, in fact.
And it almost felt like that barrier had somehow evaporated—on her side, anyway. Perhaps he’d put up one of his own, to protect himself from having his friendship rejected again. From the reminders of that even more painful rejection of something that he’d believed could have been a whole lot more than simply friendship.
She was watching him now, as he and Matt made sure that Eddie was as comfortable as possible, monitored his vital signs and tried to check him out for any significant injuries that might have been missed. It was only a short flight to the nearest hospital so it was a busy time but Jack’s glance caught Harriet’s on more than one occasion—like when he’d tightened the loop anchoring the nasal cannula for oxygen and moved to attach the end of the tubing to the on-board supply. And when he reached up to change the flow rate on the IV fluids they were administering to stabilise Eddie’s blood pressure.
What was so different about her?
She was a bit thinner, which was hardly surprising given the physical ordeal she’d been through. Her skin was paler. Because she wasn’t outside every free moment she could find—doing fun runs or surfing or something? Her freckles had faded too but the change he was trying to identify wasn’t anything negative. Quite the contrary. It was...a bit of a spark, that’s what it was. As if a glimmer of the woman he’d admired so much had returned. A woman who’d all but vanished within weeks of that terrible accident.
The last time Jack had gone to visit her in hospital, she’d been fighting an infection that had again raised the awful possibility that her lower leg might have to be amputated. She had been feeling very unwell, lying there with intravenous antibiotics dripping into her arm, and the visit had been more than awkward. Jack had felt helpless and hated it.
Harriet had looked...hopeless, which had been even worse.
She hadn’t wanted to see him. She certainly hadn’t wanted to talk about the SDR, which was pretty much the only thing they had in common. And when she’d looked directly at him—just before she’d said it might be better if he left—her eyes had been like nothing he would have ever associated with Harriet. So dark. So flat you wouldn’t know there were little golden flecks in that hazel warmth.
That was it in a nutshell. The sparkle was back. Not the way it had been but it was there in the interest she was showing in the information being recorded on the ECG monitor and the new set of limb baselines Matt was doing to check on the blood supply to Eddie’s leg below the level of the fracture.
It had been there, as part of that smile, when he’d made that lame joke about Lassie.
As they came in to land at one of Sydney’s larger hospitals, a long way from Bondi Bayside, Jack leaned close and raised his voice.
‘Stay on board when we land. I’m off duty once we get back to base and I can take you home.’
‘I left my car,’ Harriet told him. ‘Back at the cliffs.’
‘No worries. We’ll sort it. We can check that Lassie’s been rescued, too.’
Her eyes widened as if she was surprised he was worried about his patient’s pet but then her face softened as if she was remembering that it wasn’t out of character at all. It was the kind of person he’d always been.
Her smile—and her nod—told him that she liked that.
‘Sounds great.’ Harriet leaned close to Eddie as they were unhooking the stretcher ready to wheel him towards the waiting staff members on the far side of the helipad. ‘I’ll come and see you as soon as I can. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure Harry’s okay.’
She would, too, Jack thought as he bent to move under the still moving rotors of the helicopter that would take them back to base very soon. She was that kind of person as well.
And he’d always loved that about her.
* * *
It felt like the old days.
The time when life had been full of excitement and promise. Before it had all come crashing down around her in such spectacular fashion.
The climb down that cliff face. Treating someone with traumatic injuries. Being winched into a helicopter and then flying over the city she loved so much. Somehow, in recent months she’d forgotten how gorgeous it was.
Being with Jack was another link to her past life and, oddly, she didn’t have a compelling urge to push it away in order not to add weight to the miserable shroud of what she’d lost. Today, it didn’t feel quite so lost and the reminder of what it had been like was poignant but also precious.
Jack’s car was parked at the back of the air rescue base, far enough