Tonight she was going to push him. Tonight would be his final chance to let her in.
Lost in her thoughts, she was down the mountain safely before she realised it. She raced to the Mountain Rescue centre and alerted the team. Then, explaining she was a trauma doctor, she convinced them to let her on the helicopter to show them where she and Ben had agreed their Emergency Rendezvous point would be.
Finally, she spotted him, painstakingly picking his way through the trees, near to the lower treeline and close to where the helicopter was now landing. Ben approached them smoothly, quickly, his body betraying nothing of his own pain. But Thea knew his body had been pushed too far today. However there was no disguising his fury at her return as she jumped down from the chopper.
‘Your wife briefed us,’ the rescue team leader acknowledged, taking the scoop from Ben and prepping Tomas for the flight.
‘Good.’ Ben nodded. ‘Tomas went into cardiac arrest a third time. I had to improvise, using a water camel as a breathing tube. I’d recommend administering a sedative for the flight, and using a bag valve mask to force air into his lungs.’
Accepting the team’s hurried gratitude, Ben and Thea moved out of the way as the helicopter took off, the snow around them swirling in a mass of chaos. Then the chopper flew away and the snow dropped down silently, deadly, as an equally heavy silence shrouded the two of them.
Wordlessly they exchanged skis and snowboard. Thea felt exhausted. The rescue had been draining and all her body wanted to do was make it back to the cabin and crumple into bed. But trepidation stayed her.
‘Are you going to tell me what that was all about?’ she asked at last, as she skied slowly away.
He remained silent.
‘I only came on this trip with you because you asked me to. You promised me honesty and you asked for my help,’ she reminded him desperately. ‘Well, I’m here, fulfilling my promise. Now you need to fulfil yours.’
‘Fulfilling your promise like the fact that for five years you kept our baby a secret from me? You’ve had a chance to mourn what we lost. But you denied me that chance.’
The words hit her with such force she struggled to breathe. He couldn’t really be throwing that at her now, could he?
‘I’m sorry.’ He shook his head, devastated. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘This isn’t about the—the baby,’ she managed to stutter out. ‘This is about you.’
‘What do you want from me, Thea?’ His voice was low, deep, uncompromising. Yet his eyes were ringed with red, glistening.
It took her by surprise. He was a soldier—he saw war, saw lots of things. That he should be so affected by the loss of their baby caught her off guard.
‘I don’t know.’ Thea closed her eyes to hold back her own tears.
He dipped his head. Saying nothing. Busying himself with the snowboard.
Then, in silent unison they skied back down to their cabin.
‘You’re leaving, aren’t you?’ Thea asked as they headed inside.
‘I have to,’ he told her. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You can’t protect everyone. Even though you might want to,’ she whispered as he turned to face her. ‘Just don’t go getting yourself killed out there.’
‘I don’t intend to,’ he replied gruffly, tilting her head up and kissing her salty tears. ‘But I do intend to come back for you.’
Her throat felt closed. ‘Then you know where to find me.’
But deep down she knew he never would. What Ben needed to do was the one thing he could never do. To open up. To talk about his emotions. But he was Army—through and through. Bottling everything up and hoping he never got shaken.
They stayed in each other’s arms for only minutes, but it felt like hours, and she clung to him for as long as she could. When he tore himself away to pack up his belongings and leave the cabin she knew she couldn’t watch him leave. Their final embrace would be the memory she held on to—not the sight of him walking out through the door.
Quickly, she stumbled back and into her room. She didn’t hear Ben leave, but she felt it when the cabin was suddenly empty. Deep down she knew she would never see Ben Abrams again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BEN EYED THE solid wooden door and, squaring up to it, offered three deep, uniform raps with his knuckles.
‘Enter.’