SIXTEEN
The only sounds in the darkness were the rushing of the water and the whirring helicopters upriver. They were circling over the spot where the train carriage had gone into the Delaware.
Fiona, soaked to the skin and shivering, was on her knees on the rocky shore. “Please, please let me rest, just for a minute.”
“You’ve got to keep moving.” Luke lifted her to her feet, but she seemed to have lost the ability to move her legs. “Try to walk, Fiona. I’ve got to get you to some place where you can get warm.”
“I’ll just sleep till Tuesday,” she promised groggily.
A cold fear gripped Luke.
He knew, from covering disasters around the globe, what the signs of hypothermia were, and Fiona was exhibiting a number of them. She had been delusional for a while now. A person could die very quickly, he knew, especially after immersion in icy water. He had read that some of the people after the Titanic disaster had only fifteen to twenty minutes before hypothermia began to shut down their bodies.
Luke picked Fiona up off the ground, put her arm around his shoulders, and half-carried her down the stony riverbank. “Try to move your feet,” he urged. He too was shivering, and not very steady on his feet either.
“We walked for two days,” she whispered. “Nobody’s home.”
“It just seems that way,” he whispered, humoring her. “We slept, or passed out after we got out of the water, I don’t know for how long.” He started moving again. “That’s why the helicopters didn’t see us. Just keep going,” he said, dragging her along. “I know we’ll find a fishing cabin, or a lean-to, or something. This is a big fishing river. Come on. Just a little farther.”
But Fiona was non-responsive. Her face was taking on a bluish hue. It was a bad sign. He walked, or rather staggered, another fifty feet, searching the shoreline for any sign of shelter.
And then he saw it, and his heart lifted.
“Look!” Luke put her down on the ground gently and ran up the bank. Sure enough, there, nestled in some trees, was a tiny cabin. It was made of plywood and tin. And held together by God knows what. But it was standing. He could get them out of the chill wind, which hadn’t stop blowing.
Luke pushed hard on the piece of plywood that served as a door. It opened with a creak. He felt around for a light switch but there was no such luxury here on the river. There was, however, a Coleman lantern. He discovered this when he tripped over it. Thankfully, the battery still had some life left in it.
He held the lantern up and looked around. There was a cot, some old grey blankets, and a homemade fireplace fashioned from half an oil drum. To him, the place was as beautiful as the Ritz. And it would save them.
He ran back to the riverbank to find Fiona unconscious, lying on the rocks. “Hang on, Fiona. Hang on!” he shouted in her ear.
He scooped up her limp body in his arms and carried her to the cabin. After putting her on the cot, he quickly stripped off her wet clothes. Then he grabbed every blanket he could find and wrapped them around her.
Her lips were blue and her skin clammy. She was shivering violently. He checked the little fireplace but it held no wood and there was no time to search for any. Fiona’s breathing was becoming shallow.
He thought a moment, then stripped off his own wet clothes and slipped into the cot next to her. He wrapped the blankets around them both and held her close to his body, giving her what heat he could. He rubbed her back, her arms, and her legs, needing to get her blood flowing.
After about five minutes he began to feel the warmth their two bodies were generating. Five minutes longer and her breathing became more even. His arms were aching but he wouldn’t stop. The color was returning to her face and body.
Suddenly her eyes fluttered open. She looked up at him, not comprehending who he was or what was happening. Then she smiled at him and promptly fell asleep in his arms.
He looked at her face, her perfect, beautiful face. Very gently, he kissed her on the forehead. He rested his head next to hers, holding onto her as if never to let her go.
Within seconds Luke was asleep too.
SEVENTEEN
“Where the hell is my jacket?” The crane operator was angrily searching the cab of his rig. “My damn hat is missing too.” He turned to his crew gathered around drinking coffee from a thermos. “Okay, who’s the comedian?”
Hayley was a few yards away, with the volunteers who, with members of the National Guard, were milling around, waiting for the search to begin. She was clad in a red-and-black plaid jacket four sizes too large for her. A wool hat was pulled down to her eyes. She slipped deep into the middle of the crowd, and out of sight of the jacket’s angry owner.
She took out her cell phone and hit redial, expecting to go to voicemail once again. Miraculously, Mikey picked up, home no doubt from a night of drinking and gambling, and God knows what else. And on her money.
“Hayley, hey there. What are you doing up so early?”
“Did you just get home, you creep? Did you have fun with my money? Or rather the money you stole from me?”
Mikey sounded hurt. “What are you talking about? I’d never steal from you! You’re my sister!”
“Just wait until I see you. Meantime, did you forget that Luke and Fiona went over a cliff last night? That they're probably dead?”
Silence.
“You did! You forgot! You shit! What is wrong with you? Are you hanging around with Eddie Rivers again?”
“No, course not. I learned my lesson last time.”
“You’re lying. I know that, because your lips are moving. I need you to do something for me. Call Professor Chambers, Fiona’s dad. You’ll find his number in my address book in the apartment. Tell him I’m at the crash site, and I’ll call him the minute I know something.”
“You call him, Hayley. He doesn’t like me.”
“A Professor of Ethics not like you? What a surprise. Call him and I might not kill you.”
She hung up quickly before he could make another excuse. She couldn’t bear to be the one to tell that kind and loving man that his only daughter was most likely dead.
The first red streaks of dawn were beginning to filter through the night sky. The colonel in charge of coordinating the searchers addressed those gathered.
“We are ready to move out. Remember your orders. Stick to the paths down to the river that have been cleared for you. We don’t want to have to stop our search, to pull you out of the drink. You’ve each been given an area to search, and issued a whistle. If you see anything, and that includes train debris, clothing, shoes, tracks, body parts, anything at all, give two long blasts on the whistle. Got it? Two blasts. Touch nothing. Do nothing. Wait until help arrives. If it is a false alarm, you will hear three short blasts, three long. That means keep searching. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir!” the guardsmen answered in unison.
Hayley was too busy praying for a miracle to respond. She tried to shut out the words, but all the talk of broken bones at impact, and death by hypothermia, crept into her consciousness, despite her efforts to stay positive.
She clutched the whistle that hung around her neck and followed the first group of searchers toward the riverbank. She would not listen to the so-called experts. They didn’t know Fiona and they didn’t know Luke. They would find a way to survive.
Hayley made her way down the path to the riverbank, which the National Guard had cut out of the tangle of undergrowth. The hill was steep and the river far below. She pushed down the thought of her two friends falling…falling toward the brown swirling water below her.
Guilt flooded her. I could have had a hand in this, she thought. I sent all those hateful, envious, angry feelings I had about Fiona out into the universe. If they were found alive…She corrected her thought. When they were found alive there would be no more negative thoughts from her. When Luke was found alive she was going to tell him she loved him, that she had loved him since she was eight years old.
&
nbsp; And she was going to apologize to Fiona for pretending he was just an old pal. Maybe Luke thought the same thing. Hayley was always one of the boys when she was with him. Perhaps he never knew how she longed for him to take her in his arms. It was time for her to dare to speak the truth.
But first she had to find them.
Once Hayley reached the bottom of the hill, she checked the directions to the area she was assigned to search. How they could end up so far downstream she had no idea, but search she would.
She took off at a jog.
EIGHTEEN
The lovemaking began without design or intent. Fiona awakened slowly from what felt like the deepest, warmest sleep of her life. She opened her eyes. The gentle pink of the early morning sky contributed to the feeling she was part of some magical experience. Out of time, out of space. A dream, she thought. Best dream ever.
She stirred. And the warmth, the safety net that surrounded her, stirred too. And sighed. The sound held a mixture of wonder and pleasure as Luke’s warm hand explored her naked back, and pulled her even closer to him. They were so close that they seemed like two halves of one being.
The memory of what had happened crept in slowly, the terror mitigated by the warmth of Luke’s embrace. She wondered if she had died in the river, and ascended to some unearthly plane, where feelings were heightened and the joining of two bodies was as natural as breathing.
Her hand traced the strong lines of his face, trailing across the stubble of his beard, until she felt his mouth. She slid a finger inside, exploring. Her breath caught as he gently sucked her finger.
He took her hand in his and ran his tongue along the outlines of each digit, running his teeth over the tips and sucking tenderly. He ran her hand over his face, lightly biting at her palm, tasting her and the river, and something close to bliss.
The kiss came unexpectedly. Their lips touched, lightly at first, then deepened into something which, although it was the first kiss, seemed practiced, timeless, inevitable. It was a kiss that sent shockwaves through the body.
When they could bear it, they pulled away from each other and looked. Stared, really, into the eyes of a person each had known for less than twenty-four hours. As they continued to look, there was no guile, no pretense, only an acknowledgement of the growing passion which was taking control of them.
Now there was no time for contemplation. There was only the exploration of bodies, the wonder of discovery. And need. The desperate need to become one.
Luke’s mouth found her nipples, explored them with his tongue until both stood erect. Fiona was unable to control her moans of pleasure.
When he finally entered her she was ready, shivering with desire and anticipation. His manhood was hard but there was no discomfort, just the feeling of being whole at last. Once inside her he seemed to grow and grow until he filled every soft crevice. She pushed against him.
“Don’t move,” he whispered.
“I have to,” she gasped.
“Wait. Look at me, Fiona. Stay with me. Don’t move.”
Her blue eyes fluttered open. The look in his eyes startled her. It was not one of lust, but of love. She forced herself to stay quiet. And then he was moving against her, and they were in unison. Their feelings surged again and again, until finally they collapsed, filled with ecstasy and joy, and the understanding that this was forever.
NINETEEN
Hayley slowed her jog to a walk. Things were in such a tangle at the shoreline. If she went too fast she could miss something. The colonel had said they might find shacks tucked away in the woods by the shore, that there was everything in this river from stripers to trout.
Hayley shuddered as she watched the cold water surge and whirl, hoping her friends were not in there as well. She walked on slowly, scanning the shoreline and the cliffs. And that was how she spotted it.
It was caught between two rocks in shallow water near the shore. The filmy piece of silk was waving to and fro in the water like some exotic fish. But it wasn’t a fish. It was the antique Hermès scarf she had bought for Fiona, in one of her Third Avenue haunts, just after they had booked their first major party.
She knew she should blow two blasts on her whistle but she just couldn’t do it. This was part of Fiona. She wasn’t going to let it be shoved into some evidence bag, to be fingered by God knows how many hands.
She waded into the water and carefully loosened the scarf from the rocks. Had it ended up there when Fiona crawled out of the river alive? Or had it been wrested from her neck as she and Luke were pulled down into the river and pushed out to sea?
She carefully wrung the water out of the scarf, shook it and put it around her neck for good luck. This was an omen. They were alive. She would will it to be true.
She froze as she heard the sound of a whistle from upstream. Two long blasts. She looked back, waiting to hear shouts of joy, or the strange silence that seemed to accompany death.
Time stood still, or so it seemed. She could hear herself breathing. And then it came: the all clear. Three short blasts. False alarm.
The search would continue.
TWENTY
Fiona awakened to the smells and sounds of a wood fire crackling in the home-made stove. But she didn’t open her eyes. If this was a dream she didn’t want to wake up. She purred and stretched like a cat.
Luke, naked, had hung their clothes around the fire to dry. He sat down next to her on the little cot and adjusted the blankets around her. “Are you cold?” he asked, kissing her forehead.
“Are you crazy?” she grinned. “I’m on fire.”
He swept her up into his arms and covered her face, her hair, her ears, her neck with kisses. “Where have you been all my life?” he asked, abandoning the blankets and pulling her, also naked, onto his lap.
She felt neither shame nor embarrassment. She put her arms around his neck. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said. “But, for your information, a dinner date and flowers would have been a preferable alternative to going over a cliff on a train.”
“Just trying to get your attention,” he said, twisting her hair in his hands.
“Mission accomplished.”
He kissed her. “Glad to hear it. I can’t offer flowers, but the fishermen who own this place left the makings of a meal here.”
He went to the shelf lining one wall. “I can offer you beans, corned beef hash, tuna, more beans, condensed milk, Spam, and, yes, more beans. There are some tea bags here, but I’d have to use water from the river.”
“I’ve drunk quite enough of the Delaware, thank you very much.” She spotted something and got up. From behind a cracker tin she extracted a dusty pint of Jack Daniels, which she brandished.
“Now you're talking,” Luke said.
“Mr. Thompson, I have your usual all ready for you,” she said, mimicking the conductor on the train.
He accepted the bottle and took a long swig. “Nectar of the gods. And for the lady?”
“I’ll have a little of that nectar,” she said. “I’d sell my sister for one of those Krispy Kremes right about now.”
“Didn’t even know you had a sister.”
“No, but Hayley comes close.”
“For me too. She’s like the kid sister I never had.”
“To Hayley,” Fiona said, raising the bottle and taking another swig.
“To Hayley,” he echoed. “For bringing us together.” And he pulled her into an embrace which was tinged with desire.
TWENTY-ONE
Hayley, her heart pumping with joy and hope, raced toward the plume of smoke emanating from the little hut in the woods. She had seen the tracks soon after she found the scarf, and had been following them.
She stopped, and studied the hollowed-out place in the rocky sand where someone had fallen and then been half-dragged toward the cabin. It gave her a jolt, but she refused to let her mind go to that dark place. They were both in that cabin, and they were both alive and well.
She hugged herself, thinkin
g how they’d all laugh about this one day, and the luck that allowed her to be the one to rescue the two people who meant the most to her on earth. Next to her jerk of a brother, Mikey, who was dead to her, at least until tomorrow.
She walked quietly up to the hut, slowing her breathing. She didn’t know what kind of shape they’d be in, but she was ready for any eventuality. Or so she thought. But she was not ready for what she saw through the window.
She turned and ran. Ran hell for leather away from the cabin, away from the pain, the betrayal. She ran back toward the rest of the search party, until she could run no farther. She sunk to her knees by the river, sobs of pain and rage wracking her body.
This was not to be borne! This thing, whatever it was, between her two former friends would not stand. She would see to that. One day, and soon, they would feel the pain she was feeling right now, most especially Fiona.
She wrenched the whistle from her neck and blew two long blasts, then ten, then twenty. She blew and blew that whistle until she had no strength left to do anything else but crawl to her feet and stagger away to make her plans.
TWENTY-TWO
By late spring Fiona Chambers and Luke Thompson had become household names. Their heroic rescue of nine souls from a train, dangling precariously over the Delaware River, was the stuff from which legends are made.
The subsequent search for the couple, after their forty-foot plunge from the cliff into the icy water, was followed breathlessly on seven continents.
When they were rescued, miraculously intact, and, more important to the story, in love with each other, the frenzy of the paparazzi became all-consuming.
And the grinding resentment that grew and grew within Hayley’s heart turned into a cancerous lesion, eating away at her humanity. When the business she had founded with Fiona returned to normal, or what would have to pass for normal from then on, everything felt like a slight to her. The role of expeditor she had carved out for herself now felt somehow demeaning. Fiona’s natural ability to charm clients and draw in business seemed false and exploitative.