Page 41 of Rescuing Rosie
‘You did the right thing, taking shelter in here.’
He stuffed her day pack into his backpack, collapsed her walking pole and added that, then hopped down into the shallow water at the pool’s edge. She shuffled across her rock until he was able to scoop her up. Taking her weight, he began making his way towards the entrance, Wainwright splashing ahead of them.
She felt the strength in his arms, as she had when he’d lifted her onto that first rock.Ourrock, he’d called it. Again she felt that lightness of being, as if her recent trials and tribulations had lost their weight, too.
Slowly and steadily they made their way towards the light, to find that the rain had stopped. The soft Lakeland air smelt of wet earth. Rosie tightened her arms around Ant’s neck, acknowledging how lovely this felt. How …
She was surprised to discover that, all at once, she very much wanted to kiss this man. As he held her close, the ache in her ankle was joined by a different kind of ache. She resisted a strong urge to bury her face in his warm neck.
What was going on? Was this some sort of victim-rescuer fixation syndrome, prompted by his kindness in the cave – which was probably all part of his training, with the aim of calming lost, frightened, or injured fell walkers.
What would Ant think, if he knew what was going on in her head?
‘Brace yourself,’ he said. ‘Put your good foot down.’
He gently lowered her until her booted foot met the ground. She kept her arms round his neck (for balance) and stood there on one leg, looking up at him.
‘Um …’ He looked around. ‘Can you support yourself while I get out the crutches? I’ll just move you over here …’ He put his hands on her waist and lifted her closer to the cave entrance. When he put her down, she still didn’t release her grip on Ant’s neck.
Ant, who was, in fact, Ben.
Maybe keep it’andy, in case you meet a Ben.
He looked down at her and smiled awkwardly. ‘Rosie – you need to let me go.’
Sometimes in life, you have to take a leap of faith.
‘I don’t want to let you go,’ she said.
Chapter Seventeen
She gazed into his lovely warm, hazel eyes, waiting for his response.
It was disappointing. ‘Rosie – I can’t rescue you if you don’t let me go.’
She was about to say something along the lines of,Au contraire, Mr Hill,you are the rescue I wasn’t aware I needed,then changed her mind.
Rosie was torn. She’d tried to communicate these feelings that had ambushed her, thinking she saw something in his eyes. But he was keeping it professional. Perhaps he was used to women he carried to safety going all romantic on him. Perhaps he was already in a relationship. Perhaps, in spite of his recent kind words about her survival skills, his opinion hadn’t changed since he’d come across that inappropriately dressed southerner wading upstream in pursuit of an umbrella.
Perhaps she should just hobble on down, keeping her distance, hoping she might see him again during her time here in the Lakes. She could pop into the shop to thank him. Or if she was temporarily disabled, maybe invite him to the hotel for a coffee. Something that wouldn’t scare him off.
Because Ant was guarded. There was a reticence about him. He was difficult to know, and she sensed it was more than simple shyness. Or maybe it was a male solidarity thing. His mate had got in there first, and even if Dale was only after a(nother) no-strings fling, Ant wouldn’t get in his way.
‘Sorry,’ she said, unclasping her hands from around his neck, supporting herself on the rock wall. ‘I got a bit caught up in the whole knight-in-shining-armour scenario. Rescue lady writers at your own risk, Ant! … Ben.’
‘Ant’s fine,’ he said, and she detected a note of relief in his voice. This too was disappointing. She couldn’t see his expression as he bent to retrieve two poles from his backpack, then busied himself extending them and securing them at the correct height.
‘Fancy kit,’ she said. ‘Your backpack’s the mountain rescue equivalent of Mary Poppins’ carpet bag!’
‘Left hand,’ he said, passing one over. It was like a walking pole but with a grip forming a T across the top. As she took it, he moved behind her, his hands resting lightly on her waist. A totally inappropriate sensation zipped through her body.
‘Now the right,’ he said, holding the stick in position, supporting her as she moved her hand from the rock to the stick.Should I tell him my knees have gone wobbly too?
‘Put your weight on your good foot and lift the poles forward – keep them just a little wider than your body.’ He went to stand in front of her, facing her, taking steps back as she moved slowly towards him.
‘That’s brilliant, Rosie, great job.’
It was quite easy; the path was wide and not too rocky, and she began to pick up speed.
