‘It was definitely east of here,’ she said surely. ‘I’m sure I remember. But the country’s rough.’
‘I’ve bought a backpack,’ he told her, bending to throw the picnic things back in the basket. ‘It’s in the car.’
‘But… We don’t need provisions. It should only take an hour.’
‘I’m taking medical equipment,’ he said curtly. ‘Just in case…’
‘But…you still think he’s dead?’
‘If he was somewhere safe and dry and then collapsed…’ He shook his head. ‘Who knows? But if there is such a place then I guess there might be a chance. I just wish to hell I’d been able to contact you when this whole mess happened. If I’d known…’
Tess looked curiously up at him. ‘You really care,’ she said softly-wondering. ‘Mike, Grandpa’s your patient but he’s an old man with nothing whatever to do with you except in a professional capacity. You must have two or three thousand patients on your books, yet you care enough to come out and untether Grandpa’s goats and check on his pig at midnight. You care enough to rescue a weird and ridiculous dog from death-and you care enough to come with me now.’
‘Yeah, well…’ He gave a shrug, feeling embarrassed, and Tess stared some more.
‘Thank you,’ she said simply.
‘No. If I’d contacted you, you might have been able to tell me…’
‘I couldn’t have described where the cave was, even if I’d thought of it,’ she told him. ‘I don’t know for sure that I can find it now. But I hope…’
She paused and he stood and took her hand strongly in his, pulling her over to stand beside him. His arm came around her waist in a gesture of reassurance and comfort.
‘Then let’s do that, Tess,’ he said gravely. ‘Let’s hope.’
The cave was further away than she remembered, and by the time they found it the last of the light was fading behind the hills. The sunset had been spectacular, and there was still a fading glow around the sky.
It was instinct rather than knowledge that led her to the cave. She couldn’t have described the route if she’d tried. Instead, Mike watched as she simply let her mind drift back to her last summer’s afternoon with her grandfather, set her eyes on the hills and let her feet rewalk the route they’d taken. He didn’t say a word, sensing her need to let her instincts take over.
And her instincts didn’t fail her.
Resting high in the hills in dense bushland, where a small creek trickled down over vast boulders, two massive rocks stood sentinel to a third. The rear rock looked as if it had been almost blasted into the cliff face-a part of a rock wall which was sheer and impregnable. It was only when you slipped behind the front two rocks, then walked around a small outcrop to the side, that a small opening behind the rear rock could be seen. It was just big enough for a man to fit.
Tess found it wordlessly, her face reflecting hope and dread. What if her grandfather wasn’t here?
And what if he was?
Strop was sniffing the entrance, his floppy ears pricked as much as it was possible for basset ears ever to prick. Mike looked down at his dog and his face tightened. He placed a hand on Tessa’s shoulder and gently propelled her forward. ‘It won’t get better for the waiting,’ he told her softly. ‘Come on, Tess. I think your grandfather might be here-and I’m right beside you.’
And thank God he was. There was no way he wanted Tess to face this on her own. He badly wanted to tell her to stay back now-let him find whatever was inside-but he knew she’d have none of that, so he took her hand and Tess let hers lie in his as he led her forward. She had brought Mike here, but now she was clearly grateful to let him be in charge. She squeezed through the gap as his hand pulled her on, and he could feel the tension in her fingers.
Inside, the cave was so big it might almost have been the vaulting roof of a cathedral. There was a crevice above that, open to the evening sky, and the rosy hue of sunset shimmered around the smooth rock walls and lit the cavern in a dim and misty haze.
Tess didn’t waste time admiring the beauty. At the rear of the cave there was a chamber, dry and filled with sand, closed to the weather but just open enough to the light so as not to be frightening. It was a comfortable place for a wounded thing to lie and tend its wounds.
Courage was no longer an issue. She dropped Mike’s hand and stumbled quickly across the rough cave floor to reach the inner entrance, with Strop and Mike left to follow.
And inside she found her grandfather.
CHAPTER THREE
FOR a moment Tess and Mike thought Henry was dead.
For one long moment, she stood in the small doorway while her eyes adjusted to the dark. Her grandfather was huddled in a far corner, and he wasn’t moving.
She gave a gasp of dismay, but then Mike pushed her aside, striding across the sand to stoop over the huddled figure. He lifted a limp wrist and turned to stare at Tess in the gloom.
‘He’s alive, Tess. Help me.’
‘Alive…’ Somehow Tess made her legs carry her over to where Mike was kneeling in the sand. ‘Oh, Mike, alive…’
Strop fell back. He’d been trained to do this. He wasn’t all stupid. When Mike’s voice hit a certain tense pitch, Strop knew enough to shove his butt down and wait.
‘How…? How…?’ Tess stared down.
‘He’s unconscious, Tess, but there’s a heartbeat. He’s so dry. Hell, feel his skin! His mouth is parched and his tongue is swollen. You’ll find a torch in my pack, and a saline pack.’ His hands were running over the old man as he spoke, moving with care and concern. ‘For him to have been here… He must have been here all this time!’
Tess was hauling Mike’s backpack from his shoulders and fumbling inside for a torch. The flashlight rested right on the top. She flicked it on and directed it down at her grandfather’s face.
The sight before her must be a dreadful shock, Mike thought grimly. Tess hadn’t seen her grandfather for ten years and Henry then would have been a vigorous seventy-three-year-old-healthy and strong and full of life.
Now… The eighty-three-year-old man lying on the sand seemed drained of everything. His skin was as white as alabaster under his tan, and it stretched across his old bones as if it were parchment. Henry’s eyes had sunk into their sockets and were staring sightlessly at the opposite wall. His cheeks were gaunt hollows and his lips were so dry they’d cracked, bled, half healed and cracked over and over again.
‘Find me a swab, Dr Westcott.’ Mike cast a glance up at Tess, hoping like hell she wouldn’t faint on him. His voice sliced across Tessa’s distress like a knife. ‘Tessa, you’re wasting time. I need a swab and then I need help to set up a saline drip. Fast. We haven’t found him to let him die now.’
‘Oh, Mike… He looks so dreadful.’ He looked like death!
But Tess didn’t intend fainting. She took a deep, steadying breath and somewhere in that breath she turned from a frightened grandchild into a competent doctor. The fact that this was her beloved grandpa was thrust aside. Henry was an emergency patient, dying under their hands.
‘What do you think-?’
‘He’s dehydrated,’ Mike snapped. ‘You just have to see his lips… If he’s lain here for days with no water… Everything else can wait, Tess, but we have to get fluids in.’
‘OK.’ She was already moving, sorting out swabs and syringes and tubing from Mike’s bag and handing them across in the dim torchlight.
Mike knew there were two people inside her head now. One was Tessa Westcott, scared-stiff granddaughter, and the other was Dr Westcott, efficient medical practicioner. For now, though, she was efficient and she was professional. The first lady had been sent outside for the duration to wring her hands in private. Henry needed Dr Westcott now, and so did Mike.
Two minutes later they had saline flowing. Mike had everything they needed in his backpack, and Tess found it,
