Читать книгу Her Sister's Child - Cynthia Thomason, Cynthia Thomason - Страница 11

JULIA GRABBED a yellow slicker from the hook by the storeroom, slipped her arms through the sleeves and hurried to the counter under the cash register where her parents had always kept a flashlight. Shoving the light into the waistband of her jeans, she headed for the front door. Cora followed, talking incessantly, her anxiety clear. “I t-told him not to g-go out in this weather. I w-warned him, Julia.”

“I know, Mama,” Julia said, pulling the vinyl hood and securing the snap at her chin.

“You c-can’t go after him!”

“I’ll be all right. I’m just going to cross the road and look down in the ravine. Maybe he’s fine and I’ll see him climbing up toward me.”

“But, but what if he’s not climbing out? What if you don’t see him?”

Julia paused, her hand on the doorknob. “We can’t just ignore this and leave him at the bottom of the falls. I need you to stay focused, Mama. Call 9-1-1, tell them what’s happened.”

Cora nodded and walked toward the phone.

At the door Julia stopped when she heard Katie sobbing behind her. “Don’t go out there, Aunt Julia. It’s raining and you’ll get all wet.”

Julia took Katie’s arms and held them tight. “I’ll be fine, Katie. Nothing is going to happen to me. I’ve been down that ravine more times than I can count.”

Katie sniffed loudly. “In the dark?”

“Dark, light, all kinds of weather.” She kissed the top of Katie’s head. “I have to do this, honey. People could be hurt down there and we don’t know how long it will take the police to get here. I want you to be a brave girl and wait with Grandma. Will you do that for me?”

Katie pinched her eyes closed and nodded. “You’ll hurry though, won’t you?”

“You bet I will.” She gave Katie what she hoped was a reassuring hug and stepped outside. A strong wind propelled raindrops as heavy as pebbles against her face. Fighting a gust, she shouldered the door into its frame, testing the latch to be certain it took hold.

Julia flicked the switch on the flashlight and aimed it left and right. She had a fleeting, hopeful thought that she might encounter travelers out on this wicked night, someone she could flag down to help her. Instead, all she saw was dense rain in her beam of light. Within seconds, her jeans were plastered to her legs and her tennis shoes were soaked through.

Julia hugged her arms to her chest and started walking up the mountain road, knowing that was the direction Cameron had taken just minutes ago. She aimed her light at the guardrail, a thin strip of galvanized metal that had originally been erected by FDR’s Works Progress Administration during the Great Depression. Over the years, the rail had been inspected often, mended many times, but never replaced. And, ironically, considering what had just happened, always considered by the locals to be “good enough.”

She had progressed about a hundred yards when she spotted the breach, a mere ten-foot gap in the otherwise continuous flow of gray posts and barriers. Just ahead of the hole, her flashlight caught the ominous shimmer of an oily substance on the road, probably an engine leak from a vehicle belonging to a negligent local.

Julia quickened her pace. She reached the edge of the ravine and pointed her flashlight to the bottom. A tight pain squeezed her chest when she realized that the Birches’ car had gone over at the steepest decline. With her meager light, she saw nothing resembling a vehicle but she heard the fury of the waterfall rushing over the rocks, gaining power from the rain and its one hundred-foot drop from the mountain ledge where it tumbled from the Glen River.

The thundering falls ended some forty feet below in a frothy pool of water that drew tourists from all over before it gained momentum again and flowed to the bottom of Whisper Mountain. Julia knew that, right now, the swollen pool would be roiling, struggling to accommodate the downpour that could cause it to overflow its banks. And somewhere near that angry cauldron lay Cameron’s car, perhaps submerged, perhaps not. There was only one way to find out.

Julia tucked the flashlight under her arm, aiming it down to light the path ahead of her, and grabbed hold of the nearest tree. And then, as she’d done many times before, but never in conditions like this and never in the dark, despite what she’d told Katie, she began her descent. She lost her footing again and again, the tread of her sneakers no match for slippery patches of mud and leaves as squishy as wet sponges.

She wished she’d remembered to bring gloves. Tree bark and shale bit into her hands as she reached for anything solid to steady her downward climb. Her heart hammered as the ravine seemed to swallow her up. Strange sounds assailed her—night creatures scurrying to safety, raindrops beating on the underbrush, water rushing everywhere, blending with the frantic buzzing in her own brain. A mixture of rain and sweat ran into her eyes. But she kept going until, perhaps no more than ten minutes after she’d begun her climb down, she reached the bottom and noticed a dim glow near the base of the falls.

She took the flashlight from under her arm, drew a deep breath to fortify her for what she might see and aimed it at the light. With an overwhelming sense of relief, she realized she was staring at Cameron’s headlamps, half buried in mud and brush, but proof that his vehicle hadn’t plunged into the pool—yet.

“Professor Birch!” Julia hollered his name as she advanced toward the driver’s window. “I’m coming to help you!” She flicked rainwater from her eyes and struggled to catch her breath. Good grief, Julia, Cameron Birch won’t care if you use his first name. She continued over the soaked ground, her heart pounding harder with each labored step.

When she reached the Jeep, she relaxed slightly. Somehow Cameron had managed to steer down the embankment without losing complete control and rolling over. She held on to the roof and hit the rain-streaked window. “Cameron, answer me. Are you all right?”

When she didn’t get a response, she used the sleeve of her slicker to clear a circle in the mud-streaked glass, wiped her eyes and peered inside. Shining her light into the interior, she saw her former professor unconscious, his safety belt fastened, his head slumped over the wheel. She slammed the window hard with the heel of her hand, and then immediately regretted the action. The SUV slid forward toward the rushing water, maybe only a foot or two, but the motion left the headlamps buried deeper in mud.

Julia yelled louder. “Wake up, Cameron! I’ve got to get you out of there.” She walked around and shone her light in the passenger window. “Mrs. Birch, are you in there?”

The seat was empty. She aimed the beam at the back and saw where boxes had been stacked for transport. There was no one else in the vehicle. Julia returned to the driver’s side and tested the door. Miraculously, it opened. Cameron’s head slipped off the steering wheel. His arm fell out of the SUV. And the Jeep inched farther down the muddy slope.

Julia grabbed the door and held on, as if by sheer force she could stop the forward motion. “Wake up, Cameron!” she screamed. She pulled on his arm. “You’ve got to get out before you go in the water.”

Still receiving no response, Julia had the horrifying thought that perhaps she was trying to revive a dead man. “No!” she shouted. “You can’t be dead.” She pinched his jawline between her thumb and forefinger. “Wake up!”

When a long, low moan rewarded her, Julia renewed her efforts to get Cameron out of the vehicle. She reached over his body, felt for the seat belt release and freed him. Next she twisted him so his back was toward her. “Okay, that’s good,” she said in an even, level voice, meant to soothe herself as well as the victim. “We can do this, Cameron.” She slid her hands under his arms and pulled with all her strength. The next moments were a blur. Cameron groaned. The Jeep rolled forward. Julia fell back onto the ground, and Cameron landed on top of her. Air rushed from her lungs.

Pushing her feet against anything solid she could find, she scooted them both back from the car until they were clear. And then, with Cameron heavy on her chest, she raised her head and watched in numb shock as, with a huge sucking sound, the SUV plunged engine-first into the churning pool. Seconds later, only the faint red glow of taillights and the weak gleam of a chrome bumper were visible above the water.

Shaking off the horrifying realization of what nearly had happened, Julia tried to scramble out from beneath Cameron’s limp body. But he was like lead pressing on her breastbone, and she succeeded only in sinking farther into the mud. She turned his head to the side, felt his faint breath warm on her cheek. “Cameron, wake up. Please. You’re okay. We’re both going to get out of this, but you have to help me.”

She concentrated on the details of the first-aid course she’d taken years before and tried not to panic. “Keep the victim still and quiet,” she said. “Keep him warm. Elevate his legs. Check for broken bones.” A ripple of inappropriate laughter bubbled up from her chest. “Yeah, right.” One arm was pinned to her side and her fanny felt as if it were mired in freshly mixed cement.

Her strength waning, Julia gave up struggling. She was stuck underneath Cameron until help came. Wiggling around only pushed them both farther into the depression she’d created when they landed on the wet ground. Minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she lay there. To keep her mind occupied, she talked to the unconscious man on top of her. “I’ll bet you wish you’d taken Mama’s offer to stay with us,” she said. “I didn’t think it was such a good idea at the time, but now I sure wish you had.” A minute passed before she spoke again. “When are the rescuers going to get here?” She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a response.

“Hey, Jules, you okay down there?”

Recognizing the voice of the class clown of her Glen Springs High graduating class who went on to join the Vickers County firefighters, Julia laughed almost hysterically. “Is that you, Bobby?”

“Yep, it’s me, MoonPie.”

She never thought she’d be so glad to hear the nickname Bobby had given her in grade school. “Well, hurry up and get down here!” she hollered.

“That’s the plan. Just hold on. We’re on our way.”

Seconds later, Bobby Cutter and two other rescue workers rappelled down the slope in a fraction of the time it had taken her to cover the same distance. Bobby and one fireman rushed to her side, while the other waited for a fiberglass backboard to follow them on ropes into the gully.

Bobby leaned over her, flashing a brilliant light in her face. “So how’d you manage to get yourself in this situation, MoonPie?” he asked.

She couldn’t see his expression and that was just as well. If she’d detected a smart-ass smile on his face, she’d have found enough strength to slug him—once she got out from under Cameron. She frowned up at him. “Just get us out of here, Bobby.”

“Will do.” He ran his hand down her arm while his buddy examined Cameron. “Do you think anything’s broken, Julia?”

“No. I’m fine, but I’ll be even better once I know that this guy on top of me is okay.”

Bobby switched to rescue mode. He helped the third member of his team position the board next to Cameron, then asked if the victim could be safely lifted. The rescuers’ voices blended together in a flurry of well-rehearsed commands and evaluations.

And Julia lay back, waiting patiently, relieved to be turning the task of rescuing Cameron Birch over to the experts, at last.

THE TRIP up from the ravine proved much easier than the one going down. Of course, it helped that Julia was tied securely to a two-hundred-pound fireman who attached them both to a pulley controlled by a team at the top. With his arms around her, she let the pulley do all the work, and if it hadn’t been for her concern over Cameron, she might even have enjoyed the ride.

The rain had finally stopped, and Cora and Katie stood at the edge of the road when the fireman set Julia on the pavement. She tried to take in all the details of the scene at once. A half dozen emergency vehicles, red lights flashing, lined the road. Barricades placed a hundred yards in either direction from the breach in the guardrail kept traffic from hampering the efforts of the rescue team. A news helicopter circled overhead, its bright light illuminating the ravine where efforts to bring Cameron to the top were still ongoing.

Julia assured waiting EMTs that she was fine, and traded her slicker for a blanket Cora had brought from the cabin. The storm had left behind a brisk, clean breeze, signaling the first cold snap of the autumn season, and Julia shivered in her woolen cocoon.

“Will he be all right?” Cora asked her.

“I hope so, Mama, but I don’t know. He was still unconscious when the rescuers got there.” She recalled the skill and confidence with which the three men went about their job. “I’m sure the guys are doing all they can,” she said.

She looked down at Katie, who was huddled in a worn parka at least two sizes too small for her. New winter coat jumped to the top of the mental shopping list Julia had been preparing for her niece over the past several days. “And how are you, sweetie?”

“Okay. I was worried about you, though.”

“I know, but I told you I’d be all right.” Julia tucked a strand of wispy hair inside the hood of Katie’s jacket. “I’m a mountain girl, remember?”

Katie nestled close to Julia’s side. When Julia put her arm around her, she said, “I guess I’m one now, too.”

Julia smiled at her. “You know, I guess you are. And you’re going to make a fine mountain girl. I can tell.”

When a stark light shone in her face, Julia blinked and squinted. “What’s going on?”

A woman approached her, walking in front of a man with a large camera balanced on his shoulder. “Cut the light, Benny,” she said. She stuck her hand out to Julia. “I’m Margo Wright from Channel Seven News. From the details I’ve gotten from onlookers, I figure you’re the hero of the hour.”

Julia minimized the comment with a shrug. “Hardly.”

The reporter moved her fist in a circular motion, indicating the camera should start rolling. “Don’t be modest, Miss…” She flipped a pad open and took a pencil from her pocket. “Would you spell your name, please?”

Julia did. Though the last thing she wanted to do was be interviewed when she didn’t even know Cameron’s condition, she understood what it was like to be on the reporting side of the camera—not an easy job with an uncooperative subject.

“I understand the victim is a professor from North Carolina State University,” Margo said.

“That’s right.”

“What was he doing on Whisper Mountain?”

“You’ll have to ask him that,” Julia said.

“Okay, but you can tell me what happened down there.”

Julia kept the facts simple and brief. “His car rolled over the edge and I pulled him out before it submerged in the river.”

Katie gasped. “Did you really do that, Aunt Julia?”

She hadn’t allowed herself to piece together those frightening moments until now, though she was quite certain the entire panic-filled episode would stay in her mind forever. “I guess I did.”

“Tell me what you were thinking as…”

Julia no longer heard the reporter’s voice. The rescue guys had just appeared, the tops of their protective headgear the first signs that they were finally coming out of the gully. One man on each side leveled the board while Bobby guided it up. Julia broke away from the reporter and rushed to meet them.

With efficient calm, the rescuers relayed information to a team of paramedics who’d come from a waiting ambulance. Cameron was transferred to a wheeled stretcher and taken to the emergency vehicle. Julia grabbed Bobby’s arm as he followed the medics. “Will he be all right?”

“I think so. He’s kind of busted up, but he was starting to come around about halfway up the mountain.” Bobby patted her arm. “You done good, MoonPie. And by the way, it’s nice seeing you again, even if the circumstances that brought you home aren’t the best.”

“Thanks, Bobby. And you done good, too.”

Bobby walked off toward a woman who offered him a cup of coffee, and Julia suddenly felt as if her legs would no longer hold her. She didn’t want to talk to the reporter again. And she hoped she wouldn’t be questioned by the police right now. Searching out Cora and Katie in the crowd, she said, “Let’s go home. Tomorrow will be plenty of time to sort all this out.”

A paramedic stepped from the back of the ambulance. “Hey! Which one of you is MoonPie?”

Julia grimaced but slowly raised her hand. “I guess that would be me.”

The medic waved her over. “Can you come here? The patient says he won’t go to the hospital until he talks to you.”

Julia hesitated, but Cora urged her forward. “Go on. Cameron probably wants to thank you.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“You want to see how he is, don’t you?”

That was certainly true. Julia hadn’t climbed down the ravine, had the wind knocked out of her and taken an unplanned mud bath just to have Cameron die on her. She went to the back of the ambulance and took the paramedic’s proffered hand. He helped her inside and went back to work, adjusting gauges and checking IV lines.

Cameron lay on the stretcher. She took a few awkward steps toward him in the confined space. He tried lifting his head to see her, but his movements were limited by a restrictive collar. Nevertheless he smiled. That same devastating smile she remembered shining upon her from the podium of a Riverton College classroom, not even diminished now by a background of nasty lacerations.

The medic pointed to her. “Professor, meet Julia, Glen Springs’ one-woman mountain rescue team.”

“Actually, we’ve met before,” Cameron said. He stared intently at her and added, “MoonPie?”

She exhaled and shook her head. “It’s a long and very uninspiring story.”

“I think I’d like to hear it.”

“Someday, maybe.” She sat on a bench built into the side of the ambulance and leaned toward him. “How are you feeling?”

“Alive. Thanks to you.”

“Don’t mention it. All in a day’s work.”

“I’ll bet.” He slowly reached out his left hand and stroked her cheek with his fingers. “You’ve got a little smudge there.”

For the first time she was aware of how she must look. She glanced down at her mud-caked jeans. Her hands were splotched with ravine debris and she doubted she’d ever get her fingernails clean again. She lay her hand where his had just touched and felt a flush of heat. If her face looked even half as bad as the rest of her, well, she didn’t want to think about it.

“So, are you all right?” he asked. “You weren’t hurt?”

“No. It takes a lot more than a freaky autumn sprinkle to take me down.”

He smiled again. “Not even a half-crazed driver plunging off a mountain?”

She laughed, relieved he seemed okay. “Nope, not even that. But don’t feel so bad. I saw an oil slick just before where you breached the rail. I don’t think the accident was all your fault.”

The paramedic lifted Cameron’s right arm and placed it on his abdomen. Julia flinched when she saw the bone threatening to poke through the skin covering his wrist.

Cameron winced in pain.

“Sorry, Professor,” the medic said, setting a splint under his forearm and wrapping gauze around it. “I’ve got to stabilize the injury before we take off.”

Cameron watched his practiced motions. “Do you think it’s broken?”

“I’m not the doctor, but I think it’s safe to say this arm is going to be out of commission for a while. It looks like you’ve got a compound fracture and my guess is you’re going to need surgery and external fixators to patch it up.”

Cameron frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

The medic taped gauze to Cameron’s wrist. “Could be better, I’ll admit. Do you remember how you damaged your wrist this badly?”

Cameron snickered. “The last thing I recall is feeling like a pinball inside my Jeep, complete with some pretty weird sound effects.”

Finished with his temporary immobilization job, the medic called to the driver in front of the ambulance. “I’ve got him ready to roll, Rick.”

Julia got up from the bench. “Well, I guess that’s my cue to leave. Good luck, Cameron.”

“Wait, Julia…” Cameron stared at her as if he were unexpectedly at a loss for words. “I haven’t really thanked you,” he finally said.

“Sure you did. We’re square.”

The medic looked at her. “Actually I was going to suggest that you come to the hospital, too. You need to be checked out.”

She shrugged off his concern. “That’s not necessary. I’m fine, really.”

“It’s a precaution,” he said. “There’s another ambulance waiting to take you, but since you two know each other, I guess it would be okay if you rode with the professor here. He doesn’t have any family in the area and would probably appreciate the company.”

Cameron stared up at her.

She looked at him but spoke to the paramedic. “He has a wife. I’m sure if you call her…”

“No, I don’t,” Cameron said.

“You don’t?”

“Divorced.” He raised his eyebrows in a placating way. “I’m all alone here, Julia. It would be nice if my rescuer agreed to hold my hand.”

Suddenly feeling light-headed, Julia sat back on the bench. Maybe she was experiencing repercussions from the night’s trauma, after all. Or maybe she’d just heard news that she hadn’t had time to process yet. “I’m not really the hand-holding type,” she said.

He gave her an earnest look. “Okay, no hand-holding. But I’d appreciate it if you’d come along. At least until they know what they’re going to do with me. I’ve been gone so long from the mountain, I don’t know anybody else to call.”

Before she could decline again, Bobby Cutter appeared at the back of the ambulance. “Everybody okay in here?”

Cameron answered for all of them. “I’m trying to get Julia to come to the hospital with me. She needs to be examined, too.”

Bobby shook his finger at her. “You’re going, MoonPie. No arguments. I don’t want you doing something stupid and girlie like staying here and fainting on me.”

Outnumbered, she sat against the ambulance wall and fastened the seat belt. “Fine. I’ll go. But ask my mother to come to the hospital to pick me up in an hour or so. And tell her to bring some clean clothes.”

Bobby slapped the door of the vehicle before closing it. “Will do. My job here is done.”

Cameron raised his good arm. “Just one more thing.”

Bobby paused. “Yeah?”

“How’d she get the name MoonPie?”

Bobby laughed. “You can blame me for that. Julia loved those damn cakes. Had ’em in her lunch box every day so I just started calling her that. I think Cora must have bought them by the caseful. And then, one day, she just decided to stop eating them.” He stared at Julia. “Why was that, Julia?”

She rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Bobby, that’s ancient history. Nobody cares anymore.”

“I care,” Cameron said.

Bobby gave her a what’d-I-tell-you look. “Anyway, I guess Julia didn’t want to hurt Cora’s feelings by telling her not to put any more pies in her lunch, so she started secretly swapping them for things like carrots and grapes and celery. But by then the name ‘MoonPie’ had stuck.”

Julia shook her head. “Exciting story, isn’t it?”

Bobby chuckled. “Julia’s the only person I’ve ever known who’d give up a MoonPie for a bag of carrot sticks. The first woman on Earth content to trade down.”

“Not anymore, Bobby,” Julia said. “I learned my lesson.”

Bobby laughed again and shut the ambulance door.

When Julia glanced at Cameron, she noticed his expression had changed, become more reflective than amused. “What?” she said.

“You’ve just given me my first Blue Ridge Mountain story,” he said. “A Girl Called MoonPie.” The ambulance lurched forward. Cameron sucked in a deep breath and looked at his arm. “Too bad I can’t hold a pen to write it down.”