clutched against her breast. If only the water would stop smashing her…
If only her leg would stop dragging…
‘Morag!’
The yell seemed to come from a long way away, but in this white water even a foot was vast distance.
But she’d heard him through her fog of pain and fear. Grady was coming. She knew he was coming.
There was a knife in her thigh.
‘Morag…’ She felt a sharp jerk sideways. And then another.
He was coming. He must.
Once Grady had touched the water there was no chance of finding them by sight. He’d been lucky when he’d been lowered to find a line right under him. He guessed what it was straight away-the line linking Morag to the boat-and he sent a silent blessing to whatever fates might be helping him.
Help him some more.
She had to be at the end of the line. Just pray the line didn’t catch on a rock and snap.
Just pray.
Hand over hand…
Morag.
She was here! His hand reached out and touched her, and she was his! He reeled her in and held her tight as the next surge of water threatened to carry her away from him. He was clipping himself to her, clipping himself to the harness she thankfully already wore, but his hands still held her. The power of these waves could rip them apart at any minute.
‘I’m here,’ he told her, pulling her strongly into him. As he did he felt what she held.
She had the boy.
The three of them were linked.
‘Morag…’
‘Take him,’ she managed. She twisted around so that Robbie was between them, so he could slip his spare blue and orange harness around the little boy’s midriff and click the metal links into place. Then, with the attachment complete, she gave him a shove that should have sent him away from her.
It didn’t.
‘Take him. Please… Lift him out of here.’ She was screaming but he could barely hear her.
The child seemed unconscious. Normally he’d be turning him, seeing if he was breathing, trying to give a few short breaths. But to try and assess him here was impossible.
To stay longer was risking all their lives.
‘I’ll be all right,’ Morag was screaming. ‘Go.’
He’d attached the spare line to her. It wasn’t a lift harness-he couldn’t take her up without breaking her arms. He’d have to be lowered again to retrieve her.
But to let her go…
There was no choice. Move, Reece, he told himself. The sooner you get him up, the sooner you can come back for her.
Morag.
He caught her with the arm that wasn’t holding Robbie and somehow, crazily, he managed to kiss her. Kiss? Sort of a kiss. Certainly not the best kiss he’d ever given a woman. But maybe it was the most important. His lips just managed to brush her face, and then with a wrench that cut like a knife he let her push him away.
He gathered the child tighter against him. Then he raised his arm in the air. Above their heads Doug saw the signal for Max to lift.
They wouldn’t waste time trying to winch Grady and Robbie into the helicopter. They’d land him on the clifftop, Grady thought as he swung upward, over the mass of surging water. May could help then. May must help. If the clifftop searchers weren’t there yet, then they’d put May out to care for the child while he returned for Morag.
Unless Robbie needed resuscitating, he thought desperately. Why wasn’t the child stirring? If there was a medical imperative for him to stay…
Jaqui wasn’t with them.
Dear God, no.
Please…
Morag waited.
The pain in her leg had taken her so far to the edge that she had no strength left to fight the water. Somehow she managed to breathe. Somehow she managed to struggle enough to gasp for breath as the life jacket stopped her sinking.
Robbie was gone.
Grady was gone.
They were safe?
A wave slapped her face. Another. She choked and choked again, and struggled to turn away from the wash of water. The pain jabbed through her leg with an intensity she hadn’t believed possible.
Grady…
She didn’t know whether she said it. She had no way of telling. What was reality and what was nightmare? Who could say?
Grady…
The water smashed her against the rock again. Her leg…Robbie…
Grady.
It was too much. She’d done all she could do and more.
She let herself slip away into the dark.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SHE was lying in the sun.
Morag let her eyes open-just a little-and the rays of the early morning sun were playing over her face.
Heaven?
It was unbelievable but for the moment she asked no questions. She was warm and dry and there was sunlight.
Robbie.
The thought jarred her eyes wide. The light hurt and she closed them again, but as she did so, a strong hand caught hers. And held.
‘Morag.’
It was Grady. Grady was holding her.
She risked the sunlight again and there he was, right in front of her.
She was in bed. In a sea of white. White coverlet, white canvas around her…
But Grady was in green. Theatre garb? She gazed up at him, trying to bring him into focus, trying to make him real.
Not a dream. Please…
‘Robbie,’ she whispered, and her voice didn’t seem to belong to her. Her throat hurt.
Her leg. What was wrong with her leg? It seemed heavy. Unbearably heavy.
‘Robbie,’ she croaked again, and then Grady was gathering her into his arms, tenderly so as not to disturb the mass of lines that seemed to be attached to her at every angle.
‘Robbie’s fine,’ he said, and his voice didn’t seem normal either. ‘He’s asleep. Look.’ He moved her gently so she could see across to the next bed. Robbie’s hair was a splash of colour against his pillows, and his freckles stood out on his too-pale face. ‘He was awake in the night, asking for you,’ he told her. ‘But he was content to wait until
