Rescuing Dr. MacAllister

'I can't believe he took you with him.'

'He took me everywhere,' Ellie said simply. 'It was just him and me, you see. Mum died when I was six months old and that meant that Dad either had to give up climbing, leave me at home or take me with him. He refused to contemplate the first two options so he took me with him. It was just a way of life to me. I never knew anything different.'

'Who looked after you when he was climbing?'

'There were always other people with us. They were my surrogate family.'

'It sounds like a pretty good childhood to me.'

'It was brilliant.' She stood still for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes, and then she pulled herself together. 'I wouldn't change any of it, except that I wish he hadn't made a summit push that day he died. A cornice collapsed and he was caught in an avalanche. They never found his body.'

There was a long silence and she was aware of the intensity of Ben's gaze.

'I'm sorry.'

Ellie gave a wan smile. 'When they told me about the avalanche, I refused to believe them. I wanted to climb up that mountain and dig him out with my bare hands. He'd always seemed invincible. I couldn't believe I wasn't going to see him again.' She shook herself slightly. 'Anyway, enough of that or I'll get maudlin.'

'I suppose knowing that you're his daughter explains a great deal.'

Her eyes widened. 'Like what?'

'Well, for a start, your passion for adventure,' he said dryly, and Ellie smiled.

'Yes, I suppose I do get that from him but, you know, the funny thing is, Dad never took risks. Not really.' She frowned slightly. 'He always said that the important thing was to know your own limits and not exceed them. But he also believed in living life to the full, and making the most of every day in case it was the last.' She stared pensively into her mug. 'I suppose that came from losing my mum when I was born. They loved each other very much.'

'And now you live your life the same way,' he commented, 'except maybe that your assessment of risk is slightly less astute than his.'

She glared at him. 'If you're talking about the ford again, I can assure you that it was safe, I've driven through it before.'

He lifted a hand to cut her off. 'Don't tell me. The mere thought horrifies me.'

Ellie laughed and finished her coffee. 'Do you know that old Tibetan saying? That it's better to live one day as a tiger than a lifetime as a...' She frowned. 'Oh, I can't remember what the alternative was supposed to be, but it was something terribly boring. Well, Dad was always telli

ng me that. Instead of bedtime stories, I had real-life climbing stories. "Don't be afraid, Ellie," he used to say. "Fear stops us living our lives to the full. Whatever needs to be done, just go out there and do it."'

'He was a brilliant climber and a very charismatic personality. It must have been very hard for you when he died.'

'It was hard,' she agreed, 'but I have so many good memories I suppose that makes me luckier than many. And I had an incredibly exciting childhood. My earliest memory is of brushing snow off my sleeping bag in the Alps. I always loved being outdoors with my dad.'

'And who looked after you after the accident?'

'Well, to begin with I lived with my aunt and uncle and Lindsay—that's why we're so close,' she explained, 'but when I reached eighteen and did my training, they decided I needed my own space so they let me choose the cabin I wanted and it's been mine ever since.'

'And do you climb much now?'

She tickled Max's ears. 'Only with the team. I'm not going to climb Everest if that's what you're asking. What about you?'

He seemed to hesitate and it was obvious that he was wary about revealing anything about himself. 'I just spent two years in Pakistan.'

'Climbing?'

'For some of the time.' His dark eyes were slightly veiled. 'I was part of an expedition to K2.'

'And did you make the summit?'

There was a strange light in his eyes. 'Yes.'

'Wow.' She stared at him with genuine admiration. K2 was the second highest mountain in the world and considered by many to be a more dangerous climb than Everest. 'My dad climbed K2.'