A Walk in the Park
It had started out as a walk in the country. Not even a picnic, just a stroll as they had a leisurely drive up the coast. Jeannie had wanted to stop for a bit to stretch her legs and Steve obligingly found a place he could pull over and park the car. The scenery was breath-taking and they walked in companionable silence.
"We should do this more often," Jeannie suggested, as they gazed out over the Pacific Ocean. The sun was beating down on their shoulders and there was enough of a breeze to keep the day from becoming too hot.
"Then Mike might think we're dating," Steve replied. "Instead of just friends. You know how he feels about you dating cops." He laughed.
"Just friends?" Jeannie questioned. "Is that what we're calling it?" She leaned over and stole a kiss. Steve might be willing to kid himself that Mike had no idea what was really going on between the two of them, but she was perfectly well aware that Mike had seen through their façade. The fact that he had said nothing about it was tacit approval in Jeannie's mind.
"That's what we're calling it for Mike," Steve grinned, returning the kiss.
They strolled on. Neither of them was properly clad for a walk, Jeannie wearing sandals with a small heel and Steve had on a pair of cowboy boots. They had originally planned to drive up the coast a bit and then stop for lunch at a small restaurant that Steve knew of.
Catching Jeannie as she stumbled, Steve realised that they had walked a lot further than he had realised. "I guess we'd better head back," he suggested. "I don't want you turning your ankle here."
"Not the best place," Jeannie agreed. "Maybe we can come back sometime when we have the right shoes on?"
"Whenever you like," Steve agreed. Jeannie was now home from university, her degree firmly under her belt, and was having a last summer of freedom before she began work in the fall. Another month of golden summer days lay in front of her
With Steve walking nearer the sea, they made their way along the cliff tops hand in hand. "I guess we'd better 'fess up and tell Mike that we're dating," Steve ventured nervously. He wasn't sure how his partner was going to take that news.
"Honey, I think he already knows," Jeannie told him, grinning at the stunned look on her boyfriend's face. "He hasn't said a word about it, you know."
"He's going to kill me," Steve groaned.
"Of course he isn't," Jeannie protested. She poked Steve in the ribs. "He's fond of you, you know."
"I know," Steve admitted seriously. He had seen Mike's face every time he got into danger, or was hurt at work. Mike was fond of him, and the feeling was mutual. Steve loved Mike like the father he had never really had. "And I'm fond of him, too." He found it difficult to reveal his feelings without sounding like a complete idiot; lack of practice, he presumed. He pulled Jeannie around to face him. "And I love you, Miss Stone."
As Jeannie leaned in for a kiss, there was a sudden rumble beneath their feet. They both glanced around, wide-eyed, as the earth started shaking. "Earthquake!" Steve yelled, and before he could tumble them both to the ground, the earth beneath their feet crumbled away and they were falling … falling … falling.
It took some time for Steve to realise that he was actually awake. His head thumped relentlessly and when he opened his eyes, his vision was blurry. Every part of him ached. What had happened? Something was lying on top of him, and he squinted round to see that it was Jeannie. She was unconscious, but there was no visible blood, which Steve found reassuring. "Jeannie?"
As Jeannie stirred, Steve remembered the earthquake. They must have fallen. He realised that he had Jeannie clasped tightly in his arms and freed one hand to wipe his eyes. There was only a small improvement in his vision, but it was enough for him to realise that they had fallen down the cliff. He was partly buried in debris.
"Steve?" Jeannie sat up, wincing, but apart from a few slight grazes and scrapes was essentially unhurt. "Oh, Steve! Your head!" She reached for a handkerchief, but she had left her purse in the car, and instead tore a piece off her blouse to wipe away the blood that was trickling from a gash near Steve's hairline.
"Are you all right?" Steve asked.
"I think so," Jeannie replied. "What about you?"
"I'm okay," Steve assured her, although he ached all over. "We need to get out of here. There could be aftershocks."
Having grown up in San Francisco, Jeannie was well aware of earthquakes and scrambled to her feet, careful not to stand on Steve. She started to scrape away the dirt that half buried him. Steve also began to push it away, grateful that Jeannie was not hurt too much.
Sitting up carefully, mindful that he might well have a concussion, Steve let out a cry as he tried to move his left foot. Jeannie reached for the rock that lay on his left foot, heaved it out of the way and froze. Steve, too, was gazing at his foot and a sinking feeling opened up in his stomach. His foot was sunk into a tiny crevice in the rock. Pain was knifing sharply up his leg and the smallest of tugs told him that there was no way he was going to get free under his own steam. He slowly met Jeannie's gaze, and saw that tears were in her eyes.
The situation was dire. He was trapped and would need help to get free. They were miles from anywhere and, worse still, nobody knew where they were. They had no way to contact help. The path they had been on had been 50 feet above them and had crumbled away.
What the hell were they going to do now?
Everyone in the department froze as the building started swaying. Mike Stone looked up from the papers he was working on, but the earthquake did not last for long. Slipping his glasses off, Mike prepared to move to a safer location if there was an aftershock. They were all well versed in the etiquette of earthquakes, and he saw that all the other detectives were also braced to move if need be. However, this earthquake was quite mild and after a long pause, they decided they were safe where they were. "Everyone all right?" Mike asked, going to the door of his cubicle.
He collected nods and 'yeahs' from all around. "What do you think?" Tanner asked. "3.5?"
For California natives, guessing the magnitude of the earthquakes was a regular game. Even the incomers were getting quite good at it. "It was a 5.0," Lessing joked.
It turned out that Tanner was not far from the mark. The earthquake was called in at a 3.0 in the city, although the epicentre was far enough north that the impact on the city was reduced.
Despite the joking, they were all prepared to be called out if need be. However, the initial reports of damage were minimal. Someone put on a radio. "We are told that the epicentre was several miles north of the city, in an area that is sparsely populated. Although information is still sketchy, there are reports that there is severe damage to the well-known restaurant, The Traveller's Rest, which sits on a cliff top. Part of the building has collapsed and there are reports of casualties and fatalities have not been ruled out. Emergency services are struggling to get through to attend the scene. We will pass on any further news on this when we receive it."
"Did he say The Traveller's Rest?" Mike asked, his lips numb.
"Yeah," Lessing agreed carelessly. "It's nice. That's a real shame."
"The Traveller's Rest," Mike repeated and sank bonelessly into the nearest seat, which happened to be at Steve's desk.
"Mike?" Tanner was looking into his face, a worried frown firmly in place. "Are you all right?"
"Jeannie and Steve…" Mike mumbled.
"What about them?" Tanner asked, but he suspected he already knew the answer.
"They were … going to … have lunch in the Traveller's Rest," Mike blurted. The world seemed to be expanding and contracting rather oddly and Mike dimly wondered if he was going to faint.
"Get some water!" Tanner yelled and Lessing grabbed the water as Hasseejian darted off to tell the captain. Tanner pressed the paper cup of water into Mike's hand and urged the older man to drink. Concentrating on not spilling the contents of the cup all over himself, Mike took a hesitant sip, then another. He felt marginally better and decided that he was not going to faint after all. "Better?" Tanner asked, taking the cup back and putting it down.
"Better." Mike sat back and as he did so, an aftershock hit. It was over within seconds, but it was a grim reminder to everyone that aftershocks made the search and rescue operation that much harder. "We have to find out what is happening up there."
"We are trying, but communications are out," reported Lessing, who had Rudy with him. "Phones are down in the area and it seems as though radio towers might have come down, too."
Mike was as pale as Rudy had ever seen him. Procedure insisted that Mike be kept as far away as possible from any scene that might involve him personally, but Rudy had never slavishly followed procedure. There had been a few occasions when Mike had been deeply involved when Steve had been in trouble, and they had managed to resolve the situation with a minimum of problems. "Bill, get a car and take Mike up there," Rudy ordered.
"Rudy…"
Putting his hand on Mike's shoulder, Rudy gave it a compassionate squeeze. "Mike, this is Jeannie and Steve. Go and find your family," he said kindly. "We'll be praying for them."
Blinking back the tears that threatened to fall, Mike took his jacket and coat and slipped into them. "Thank you," he croaked and was glad to leave the office before he embarrassed himself even further.
The first aftershock brought a hail of stones down on top of Jeannie and Steve. As the ground started moving again, Steve grabbed Jeannie and curled himself over her head, protecting her with his body as best he could. The pelting of debris would leave bruises on his back, he knew, and the stones that kept his foot trapped squeezed it relentlessly as the rocks shifted and settled again. As the ground stopped moving, Steve let Jeannie go and lay back, gritting his teeth to keep his moans and cries of pain inside.
"Steve – are you all right?" Jeannie was hovering over him anxiously, but there was little she could do for him.
"Jeannie, we've got to get help," Steve panted. He wiped sweat from his eyes with a shaking hand. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you've got to climb out and get to the car. Drive to The Traveller's Rest and phone from there. Make sure that you mark this place, so you can find it when you get back."
"I can't leave you!" Jeannie protested. The thought of climbing out alone scared her.
"You've got to!" Steve didn't mean to sound so harsh, but he was scared, trapped and in a great deal of pain. "Jeannie, nobody knows where we are. We stopped here on impulse. I'm not going to get out of here without professional help. I'm sorry, but you've got to go." A sudden thought struck him. "You are all right, aren't you?" he asked. "Not hurt?"
"I'm fine," Jeannie replied, although she ached all over. She looked at Steve and saw how pale he was. The wound on his head had stopped bleeding, but there was a trace of dried blood down his cheek. She knew she had to go for help, scared or not. Taking a deep breath to bolster her courage, she leaned forward and kissed Steve thoroughly. "I'll get help," she vowed. "I'll be as quick as I can."
"Be careful," Steve begged. "Jeannie… I feel so helpless…"
"Shh!" she whispered, afraid that she would cry.
"I love you, Jeannie Stone," Steve told her. "Just you remember that."
"And I love you, too," Jeannie replied. She kissed him again and climbed shakily to her feet. The cliff sloped down off to her right, and so she determinedly made her way in that direction, hoping to find a place to climb. Steve twisted his body to watch her through the aching of his head, wishing that he was able to go with her.
After a few minutes, Jeannie was out of sight and Steve was alone.
When Jeannie disappeared from sight, Steve allowed a groan of pain to escape. He knew that Jeannie was well aware of how much his foot and leg hurt, but he was used to shielding her from the darker side of life and even in extremis, his chivalrous nature came to the fore. It was almost a relief to be alone. He didn't have to put up a stoic front. Closing his eyes, Steve forced his tense muscles to relax. He was worried about Jeannie, but they had had no other choice than for her to go for help. Steve knew the dangers that she faced only too well and hoped that she did not have time to think about them. Jeannie was not dressed for climbing and she had little experience. She had been knocked out for a few moments and might have a concussion. There would be more aftershocks… Steve tried not to think about it.
Despite his throbbing headache and the slightly blurred vision, Steve could not stop his mind from working feverishly. He had recently completed a refresher first aid course at work and he knew that in his situation, taking his boot off was a priority. If his foot swelled too much before he got the boot off, it would impede the circulation to his foot. If the circulation was cut off – Steve swallowed against sickness – he could lose his foot. The rocks squeezed his ankle like a vice and there was no way he could remove his boot. Sitting up carefully, Steve looked closely at his foot again. It was well and truly trapped. He guessed that the rocks must have move apart with the pressures of the earthquake and he had had the bad luck for his foot to go into the space just before it moved back together.
Knowing it was bad luck made it no easier to bear.
The scramble over rocks and loose earth was made harder by her inappropriate footwear. Jeannie was an athletic young woman and kept fit, but her choice of sports did not include rock climbing. Within minutes, she was dirty, sweaty and covered in more scratches. Her throat was parched, but she had nothing to drink. "Today has gone to hell in a hand basket," she muttered to herself.
A faint smile flitted across her face as she pictured her father overhearing her swearing, even if it was something as mild as 'hell'. The humour helped her to steady herself. Bursting into tears, however satisfying, would not help her get out of there. It was scary to know that Steve's life could rest in her hands. Determinedly, she kept going, not wasting energy wiping her hair out of her face, even though it was sticking to her and annoying her. Time was of the essence.
A slightly less steep part of the cliff appeared in front of her, and Jeannie paused to survey it. She had no real idea what it was she was looking for, but it didn't appear to be too difficult a climb. Certainly, it was the best place she had so far come across, and she couldn't really spare more time for looking when an opportunity presented itself. If she allowed herself to keep looking, she knew her growing fear would prevent her from making any kind of climb and Steve might never be rescued.
Biting back a sob, Jeannie resolutely tucked her skirt firmly into her knickers. It was something she had done regularly as a child. It kept her decently clad, but allowed her freedom of movement. She wasn't wearing pantyhose and she had no idea if that was a blessing or a curse. It meant she would be climbing in bare feet, as she was going to discard her sandals. How she wished she had worn pants and sneakers!
"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride," she chided herself and wondered where all these odd says were coming from. She slowly unbuckled her sandals and dropped them on the ground. There was no turning back. Steve was depending on her.
Taking a deep breath, Jeannie began to climb.
Getting out of the city was not easy. While disruption had been minimal, there was still some. Power was out in several places, meaning that traffic lights were out and the traffic was all snarled up. There were cops on point duty at all the major junctions, but they had some sorting out to do and some accidents to clear up and since the streets were blocked, using the siren would be a waste of time. Tanner, seeing how pale Mike still was, dodged along some alleys, criss-crossing the city while still heading in a generally northerly direction. However, despite his knowledge of the back alleys, it still took them a good couple of hours to get onto the highway.
It was early afternoon by now, and Mike insisted that they keep the radio on for any updates that might be broadcast. So far, there was nothing new to add about the Traveller's Rest. There were on-going small aftershocks, but even they were diminishing in magnitude. Scientists had come crawling out of the woodwork and were busy speculating if this was a precursor to 'the big one'. "It is almost as though the earth has just broken wind," announced one scientist, and Mike snorted.
"Pompous ass!" he declared. "They don't know any more than we do. Why do they get these people out every time there's a tremor?"
"They help fill in the silences when there's nothing new to say," Tanner offered. "After all, how many different ways are there to say that they don't know anything?" Police were well versed in every single one of those ways.
"They're idiots," Mike declared, with a lot less tolerance than he usually displayed. Tanner didn't blame him; he didn't have much patience with the scientific bods himself.
At last they got onto the highway and their speed increased slightly. Traffic was lighter than usual, but they saw some cars that had run off the road, presumably during the earthquake. Most of the drivers and passengers were moving about, or sitting nearby, recovering from the shock. Tanner radioed in the locations so that someone would come out and check on them.
They had to be alert to any damage on the road itself. Here and there, big cracks ran across the road, but the road appeared to be stable and Tanner was able to keep driving without hitting any problems. "It's gonna take us longer than usual, Mike," he offered.
"I know," Mike agreed. "Nothing you can do about that. Just drive carefully." He longed for the car to speed up the road as fast as it could go, but they would be of no use to Jeannie and Steve if they had an accident. Biting his lip, he resolved to endure the drive as patiently as he could.
Her feet were raw and blistered. Her shins were shredded and her fingers bled, the nails all broken and the polish chipped. None of it mattered. There was nothing Jeannie could do about any of those things. She had to keep climbing, because going down would be admitting defeat, not to mention incredibly dangerous.
She had survived another aftershock by the skin of her teeth, clinging onto the cliff for grim death. The shock had lasted only seconds, but it had taken her several long minutes to regain her courage and start climbing again. Her breath came in gasps and sobs and she was dimly aware that she had begun crying some time ago. Everything hurt, she was exhausted and too hot and fear gripped her heart. "Please, please," she panted quietly on a regular basis, hoping that the God she had been brought up to believe in would heed her prayers. She couldn't remember praying for anything quite as hard as she prayed for Steve's life.
When she finally gained the cliff top, Jeannie had no idea how much time had passed. The sky was now clouding over and the wind had turned chilly. There was a storm on the way. Jeannie, hauling her skirt out of her knickers, knew that a storm was the worst thing that could happen now. The cliffs were already crumbling and shaky – the storm could make that much worse if there was enough rain.
"Give me a break!" she screamed at the approaching clouds.
Taking a deep breath and wiping her face with her hands, Jeannie looked around to get her bearings. She knew the general direction of the car and she set off across the grass, wincing as she limped as fast as she could. Her feet were agonisingly sore and it was only thoughts of Steve's plight that kept her moving.
It was impossible for her to guess how long it took her to limp over the changed landscape to the car. Time was elastic in any case and her watch had not survived the initial tumble. The face was crazed with cracks and the hands told it was 11.10am. Jeannie knew it was lying, but it didn't matter. What did matter was that every extra second it took her to reach the car was one second longer that Steve was trapped and suffering.
Finally, the car came into view. Jeannie broke into a half-run, falling against the side of the car with huge relief. She hadn't allowed herself to think that the car might be damaged, but it appeared to be all right. She wiped the tears from her eyes and opened the door.
Sliding into the driver's seat, it felt wonderful to be off her damaged feet. For a long moment, she simply sat, her head resting on the steering wheel and luxuriated in not moving. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the keys in the ignition and realised, to her horror, that they were not there.
"No!" she screamed, not sure if she could deal with this further crisis. Where were the keys? She looked in the glove box and behind the sun visor, but they were not there. A memory prodded her and she had a vague recollection of Steve sliding the keys into his pocket. There was no way she could go back for them, and no guarantee that Steve still had them in his possession. "What am I going to do?" she whispered.
It probably had something to do with being a cop's daughter, but after a moment, Jeannie thought perhaps she could hotwire the car. After all, criminals seemed to do it very easily and she had heard both Mike and Steve talking about it. Pleased with the thought and full of a new determination, Jeannie reached under the dash and located a bundle of wires.
It took her no more than a few seconds to realise that she hadn't the least clue what she was doing. Mechanics were not Jeannie's forte. She was sure she ought to twist a couple of wires together, but she didn't know which ones and had nothing with which to cut the insulation. With a sob of despair, she realised that she wasn't going to be using the car to get help.
She had no other choice than to start walking.
"There's another car up ahead," Tanner reported. Mike drew his thoughts back from purgatory and focused on the vehicle parked neatly at the side of the road.
"It's Steve's car!" he exclaimed, although they were too far away to see the registration.
"Are you sure?" Tanner knew that there weren't that many dark coloured Porsche cars in the Bay area, but how could Mike be so certain?
"Positive!" Mike replied. "Pull over!" His heart was going 19 to the dozen and he didn't know if he was relieved or terrified. The car appeared to be in perfect condition, but what was it doing parked there? Had Steve pulled over when the quake hit? He scrambled from their own car as it stopped and realised at once that the Porsche was empty. "Jeannie!" he called. "Steve!"
From further up the road – not too far, but far enough for the figure to be almost lost against the countryside – a person stopped walking and turned around. "Mike?" Jeannie thought she was hallucinating. It couldn't really be her father. Exhaustion, fear and dehydration must be playing tricks with her mind. "Mike?"
Jeannie's voice hadn't carried, but Mike would recognise his daughter anywhere. He ran towards her, feeling tears prickling in his eyes. Jeannie was safe! She was all right! He caught up with her in seconds and took her into his arms, clutching her tightly to his chest. "Jeannie! You're all right," he gasped.
"Mike…" Jeannie suddenly felt faint and she knew she had to alert Mike to Steve's plight before she passed out. "Steve… he's trapped." Her vision was going dark as she saw the words register and then she fell into a deep pit.
She was only out for a few seconds, but they were enough to scare Mike witless. He lifted Jeannie into his arms and started to walk back towards the car, but she stirred almost instantly. "What…?" Jeannie glanced up at her father. "Oh, Mike." She began to cry.
"Hush, sweetheart," Mike soothed. "You're all right."
Hurrying to meet them, Tanner helped guide Mike to the car, where he gently placed Jeannie on the seat and took a good look at her while he fished a handkerchief from his pocket. "Where are your shoes?" he asked, taking in the bleeding, bruised and blistered feet. "Are you hurt anywhere else? What happened?"
Blowing her nose loudly, Jeannie took a deep breath. "We were walking along the cliffs when an earthquake hit," she replied. "We fell and Steve is trapped. His foot got caught in rocks and we couldn't get it out." She wiped a tear away, impatient with herself for crying, but unable to stop. "I had to climb out and leave him."
Glancing up at Tanner, Mike saw his own horror reflected in the other man's face. Tanner went around the car and reached for the radio. They were at the limits of the transmission range, but this could not wait. "Do you know where he is?" Mike asked.
"Yes," Jeannie replied. "What are you doing here?" she asked, as it suddenly occurred to her to wonder about his miraculous appearance.
"When the earthquake hit, they reported on the radio that The Traveller's Rest had been damaged," Mike told her. "I knew you two were going there." He stopped, unable to continue his thought.
"Oh, Mike! I'm so glad to see you!" Jeannie threw her arms around his neck and buried her wet face in his shoulder.
Patting her back gently, Mike glanced worriedly at the dark clouds that were now racing in. He saw Tanner's face and knew the news was not good. "What?" he mouthed.
Speaking quietly, not sure if Jeannie was listening or not, Tanner reported that it would be more than an hour before a fire department rescue squad would be free, and that was only if something more important did not crop up before that. With the road in poor condition, it would another hour after that before the squad arrived there and by then, the weather would have deteriorated so much that there was a chance that they would be unable to effect a rescue.
Feeling Jeannie stiffen in his arms, Mike patted her back again. "Then it's up to us," he declared firmly. "Let's see what we've got in the trunk, shall we? You stay there, sweetheart."
"Mike…"
"I can't leave Steve out there anymore than you can," Mike told her gruffly and left her sitting there while he and Tanner went to see what they could find.
All in all, the haul was fairly impressive. There was a rudimentary first aid kit and a couple of blankets. A tire iron and a crowbar were both useful and when they carefully broke into the trunk of Steve's car, they found another first aid kit, tennis shoes, another blanket and a very long length of sturdy rope. Tanner sent in another report as to what they were intending to do and help was promised as soon as it could be sent. Jeannie slipped on the tennis shoes, although they were too big for her and led the way across the cliff top.
The rain had begun in earnest and the wind had picked up. They all had to walk with their heads down and Mike's hat was soon whipped from his head and bowled away, never to be seen again. Jeannie was leaning on Mike's arm as she led them, stopping every now and then to check her bearings and to rest for a moment. Mike was silently encouraging, knowing that she had long ago reached the end of her strength and was now moving on sheer will alone.
"Here," Jeannie said and dropped to her knees, peering over the edge of the cliff. "Here!"
Anxious lest she fall, Mike knelt cautiously beside her and peered over. Feet below him, he could see the small ledge where they had fallen, and Steve, stretched out on his back. "Steve!" he called, but the figure below did not stir.
"We've got to get down there," Mike said. "Now!"
As the rain battered against her, Jeannie huddled inside the blanket that was wrapped around her shoulders and tried to keep her shivering under control. The other blanket she clutched tightly against her body, knowing that Steve would need the warmth.
"There's no other option," Tanner declared and Jeannie realised she had missed most of the discussion that Mike and Tanner were having about how to get to Steve. "I'm gonna climb down."
"Climb?" Mike looked at him. "It's a long way, and it looks sheer."
"What do you suggest?" Tanner asked, shrugging out of his suit jacket. "I can do it, Mike; climbing is my hobby." He draped his jacket around Jeannie's shoulders. "Look after this for me, Jeannie," he requested and handed Mike the gun from his belt holster. "When I get down there, I'll see what we need and you can lower the tools down on the rope. Once Steve is free, we'll have to pull him up the cliff." He glanced down. "It won't be easy for you, Mike."
"He won't be doing it alone, Bill," Jeannie reminded him tartly. The look she sent Mike silenced any protest he might have voiced.
There really wasn't a viable alternative. There was no convenient tree to tie the rope on to and waiting a couple of hours in steadily worsening conditions could mean Steve's death from exposure. "Be careful," Mike begged.
"I will be," Tanner replied and lowered himself carefully over the edge.
It was torture to watch the slow, careful climb, but impossible to look away. On the ledge below, Steve appeared to be unconscious, or perhaps asleep, Jeannie thought, trying to stay positive. She winced as a vicious gust of wind caused Tanner to cling to the cliff face, pressing himself in to the rock. Below him, Steve stirred and opened his eyes. He raised a hand to shield his face from the rain and his attention was caught by the figure above him.
Unable to believe his eyes, Steve rubbed them, trying to clear his vision. "Bill?" His voice was cracked and hoarse and did not carry. Steve started to push himself upright, but the movement jarred his foot and a scream of pain ripped from his lips.
For a horrible moment, Mike thought Tanner was going to fall as he visibly flinched as Steve screamed, but a swift grab anchored the younger man once more and he continued climbing, moving faster now. "Don't move, Steve!" Mike shouted against the wind. "Don't move!"
Down on the ledge, Steve was only peripherally aware that someone was shouting. The words were lost in the maelstrom that battered him. He was cold and soaked through and his monumental headache was dwarfed in comparison to the pain that was now clawing up his leg from his ankle. He knew suddenly that he was going to be sick and half sat up, twisting desperately so that he didn't vomit all over himself.
All but sobbing, his vision wobbling in the most nauseating, disconcerting manner, Steve abruptly found strong hands grasping his shoulders, lowering him gently to the ground. "Take it easy, Steve," Tanner soothed. "We'll get you out of here as soon as we can."
"Bill?" Steve's blurry vision was clear enough to allow him to recognise his friend. "How…?"
"I'll tell you all about it later," Tanner promised, leaning over to take a close look at Steve's foot. What he saw was not comforting. "Let's get you out of here." He glanced upwards. "Send down the tools!" he shouted. Steve winced.
"Jeannie?" he asked. "She…"
"Is a real brave gal," Tanner replied, as Mike swiftly paid out the rope with the tools firmly tied, "She made it to your car, but didn't have any keys."
"Keys?" Steve patted his pockets ineffectually. His hands were cold and his fine motor control was gone. "Never thought… of keys," he mumbled.
"Don't beat yourself up," Tanner advised. "You've got a concussion and I imagine you both got a scare. Don't worry. Mike is up there with Jeannie. She's fine." He didn't think there was any point in mentioning the state of her feet and other assorted scrapes.
"Mike… good," Steve sighed. His eyes closed.
"Stay with me, Steve," Tanner warned. He retrieved the tools and patted Steve's cheek until the other man opened his eyes. "Steve. I'm gonna get your foot out, but it's gonna hurt. Okay?"
"Okay," Steve agreed. He didn't see how it could possibly hurt any more than it already did, but he was more than ready to be free of the rock and a bit of pain seemed a fair price to pay.
Slowly, Tanner edged the crowbar into the crack. Steve could not contain gasps of pain. "Keep going," he panted, as Tanner stopped.
"This is gonna be the bad bit," Tanner warned, but Steve's eyes were closed and he just grunted in acknowledgment. Knowing there was no other way for Steve to really prepare, Tanner swallowed down the sick feeling of regret and gently tapped the crowbar with the tire iron.
It Steve had been touched by a red-hot, electrified poker, the result would not have been more dramatic. He all but levitated off the ground and his anguished cry rivalled the keening wind. For an agonising moment, he gulped for air, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.
Shaking, Tanner knew he had to move quickly. He gave the crowbar another gentle tap then manually manipulated it. With a ghastly, other-worldly shriek, the rock cracked and the outer part split away and fell. Steve was free!
Moving swiftly, Tanner stripped off his sodden shirt and ripped it into strips. He gently bound Steve's legs together with the cloth and cut off Steve's boot and sock. The ankle was a mess he didn't care to look at for long. Tying the rope around Steve's chest, Tanner manoeuvred the unconscious man upright and felt Mike take up the slack. Slowly, Steve was hoisted into the air.
Exhausted, Tanner started climbing and made it to the top in time to help Mike and Jeannie pull Steve up the last few feet. Luckily, Steve had remained unconscious throughout. They all slumped to the ground, breathing heavily, and Jeannie wrapped Steve in the blankets, covering his wan face with kisses, uncaring that Mike and Tanner could see.
Reclaiming his jacket, Tanner was glad of its meagre protection from the rain. He was beyond exhausted, but knew that if he stopped moving now, he would be unable to start again and exposure would kill them all. "Mike, we've got to get them to a hospital."
"Yes." Mike blinked. He had been crouched by his daughter and partner and as he sheltered them as best he could, he had come face-to-face with the reality that he was going to be Steve's father-in-law at some point in the not too distant future. "How…?"
"I'll take Steve in a fireman's carry," Tanner said. "You help Jeannie." With Mike's help, he got the unconscious detective onto his shoulder and they headed back towards the cars.
The trip back to the city was miserable. Tanner took the wheel with Jeannie beside him. Mike sat in the back, cradling Steve in his arms, for the young detective was slipping in and out of unconsciousness. They were all soaked to the skin, although Mike had had a little more protection, courtesy of his trench coat, which now covered Steve in an attempt to keep him warm. Tanner had the heater on in the car and the de-misters going full blast to keep the windshield clear.
Conversation was minimal. Steve would sometimes ask for Jeannie when he was awake, and Mike assured him that she was all right, even though he knew she would need some medical attention. Jeannie herself fell asleep about 20 minutes into the trip. Mike and Tanner only exchanged necessary information so as not to disturb the others. It was never easy communicating between the front and back of the car anyway.
The journey and quiet also allowed Mike time to think and he was consequently feeling rather unhappy with his part in the rescue. He had come un-glued at headquarters when he realised that Jeannie and Steve were in danger and that was not like him. He was usually pretty cool under pressure. Then, when they had miraculously found the missing pair, Mike had been forced to take a back seat in the rescue, letting Tanner climb down. Was he getting old? Was it time to hang up his badge and take up… knitting? He had no idea how he would fill his time if he retired. Even holidays bored him.
"Mike?" Steve's hoarse voice jolted Mike from his reverie and he focused his attention on the young man in his arms. "Are you… holding me?" Steve asked, sounding confused.
"Yes," Mike replied in a matter-of-fact manner. "You need to have your foot up and you're too tall to lie down across the car."
"Never been told… I'm too tall before," Steve remarked. He tried to move, but Mike thwarted his effort easily.
"There's a first time for everything, buddy boy," Mike told him, smiling down into the confused green eyes.
"Jeannie?" Steve turned his head slightly to look for her.
"She's fine," Mike soothed. "Sleeping."
"Mike, about me and Jeannie." Steve's eyes dipped closed and he swallowed hard.
"What about it?" Mike asked, trying to keep his voice even, because Steve was in no condition to deal with Mike's mixed feelings about the couple.
"Didn't mean to… deceive you," Steve croaked, forcing his eyes open to meet Mike's. "It isn't… a game," he went on, desperate to make his mentor understand. "I … love her." A hiss of pain escaped as the car hit a rough patch of road. Doggedly, Steve continued. "Was gonna ask… your permission."
"Permission to take her out?" Mike asked gruffly. He found he couldn't be angry with Steve.
"Should've," Steve agreed. "I meant … permission to … marry her."
Mike had known that Steve and Jeannie were seeing each other and Steve really knew that Mike knew; they just hadn't spoken about it. Jeannie had told Mike kindly, but firmly, that she would date whomever she chose and while Mike might prefer that she not date cops – and in particular his 'playboy' partner – she was a grown woman and would make up her own mind. In all honesty, Mike did not object. He was more than fond of his partner, even if he was unable to admit it aloud. He wasn't displeased at the thought of Steve as his son-in-law, but he hadn't expected to face it this soon, before they had even talked to one another, and not after the emotionally challenging day they had just had. He had no idea what to say.
The silence spoke volumes to Steve, however. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Bad idea, huh?" Steve closed his eyes and a tinge of colour touched his pale cheeks. "I'll ask for… a transfer… if I get back." He tried once more to free himself from Mike's arms, embarrassed to be held like a child, especially by someone who clearly now despised him for lying, even if only by omission.
"What do you mean 'if'?" Mike demanded, hanging on to Steve tightly. "You mean when! And don't think I'll approve a transfer, either, buddy boy! You'll stay right where you are and be damned sure you make my daughter happy!"
It took a moment for Mike's words to register in Steve's concussed brain, but when they did, a smile slowly broke over those wan features and Mike blinked back tears at Steve's visible happiness. "Thank you," Steve croaked brokenly. "Thank you…"
"Mike." It was Tanner. "We're approaching the hospital now."
The hospital was expecting them and gentle hands lifted Steve onto a gurney. Jeannie was helped into a wheelchair and other staff ushered Mike and Tanner inside while an orderly parked the car.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Mike protested as a nurse led him into an exam room. "I just need to know how my daughter and partner are doing."
"The doctors need time to examine them," the nurse replied patiently, "so how about I treat these rope burns on your palms while we're waiting?" It was voiced as a question, but Mike knew an order when he heard one and sank unprotestingly onto the exam bed.
The nurse not only cleaned and bandaged the rope burns that Mike had not noticed until she mentioned them, but she also took his pulse, blood pressure and temperature, noting the results on a char. Mike was too exhausted to question her about her findings, but he did appreciate the cellular blanket she used to cover him. A doctor appeared a few minutes later, examined Mike again and told him he would be free to go as soon as prescriptions for pain killers and antibiotics were issued. He promised to send in the nurse with some pain killers for him to take at once.
He was dozing lightly when the door opened. Blinking in the bright lights as he woke, he was surprised to see Lenny, the department psychiatrist, rather than the nurse he was expecting. Lenny smiled. "Hi, Mike. How are you feeling?"
"What are you doing here?" Mike countered. He started to push into an upright position, but Lenny put a hand on Mike's shoulder to keep him lying down.
"The one person they can spare from the department during the aftermath of an earthquake is me," he teased. "I've come to see how you all are – on captain's orders, too."
"Oh, I'm fine," Mike replied, untruthfully as it happened. His arm muscles were aching from the strain of pulling Steve up the cliff and then holding him for close to two hours in the car. On top of that, the rope burns on his palms were now very much making their presence felt and so far the nurse had not returned with the promised pain relief.
"And now that the macho posturing is out of the way, how do you really feel?" Lenny asked, smiling.
Sighing, Mike knew he wouldn't get away without telling Lenny the truth. "Worried," he admitted. "Steve didn't look too good and Jeannie hurt herself getting help for him. Have you heard how they are? How's Bill?"
"I haven't heard about Jeannie or Steve," Lenny replied, "but Bill is fine. Cold, a few scrapes and bruises, a little muscle strain, but he'll be as right as rain in a few days." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "What happened?"
Speaking quietly, Mike relived the whole thing. He knew it wouldn't be the last time he would be asked to do so. "It's a good thing Bill was there," Mike commented mordantly. "I was no use in rescuing Steve at all."
"No use?" Lenny echoed, surprised.
Before Lenny could go on, Mike leapt in. "I was too old to climb down," he said and the bitterness of that was clear in his voice. "And Jeannie was so worried about Steve…" Mike glanced at Lenny. "Did you know those two are serious about each other?" he asked. "I knew they were dating, but Steve told me in the car he wants my permission to propose!"
"What did you say?" Lenny wondered, not sure how to interpret Mike's indignant tone. Was the older man angry, or just surprised?
"What do you think I said?" Mike demanded. "I said yes, of course." He shook his head. "Steve is the son I never had," he added softly. "And now he's going to be my son by marriage."
"Congratulations," Lenny replied warmly. A big smile broke across Mike's face for a moment. "You know, Mike, I don't think you were no use in rescuing Steve. I don't think so at all."
Blinking at the sudden change of subject, when he was so sure he had diverted the psychiatrist's attention, Mike asked, "How can you say that? I was too old to climb down."
"And if Bill hadn't been there and you had been alone with Jeannie, what would you have done?" Lenny asked.
"I guess I would have climbed down," Mike replied, non-plussed.
"And if you had climbed down, alone apart from Jeannie, how would you have got Steve up that cliff?" Lenny pressed. "If Bill had been alone apart from Jeannie, how would he have got Steve up that cliff? Someone had to be there to pull on the rope – and you sustained nasty burns in the process!"
"I…" Mike had no idea what to say. He thought about it for a moment. "I don't know," he replied.
"Well, I do know, Mike," Lenny told him firmly. "You are not too old! You were wise to let Bill do the climbing, because Bill has experience there that you don't. That's simple common sense. I understand that you wanted to do everything yourself, but unless you've started wearing your underpants on top of your pants, then you aren't Superman! If you hadn't been strong enough to pull Steve up, he would still be lying there. That was not a one-person rescue and your part was as important as Bill's."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," Mike admitted after a long silence.
"And as for Jeannie worrying about Steve – well, of course she will if she loves him." Lenny smiled. "But loving Steve doesn't mean she won't love and need her dad, too. Your relationship will change, but all healthy relationships change all the time and change is not necessarily a bad thing."
"I guess you're right," Mike sighed.
Not wanting to leave Mike feeling down, Lenny decided to lighten the discussion again. "And now that I've given you a free consultation, shall we see how Jeannie is?"
As if on cue, the nurse came in with Mike's painkillers and prescriptions. Lenny guessed that she had been listening at the door. "Can you take us to Miss Stone's room?" he asked. "Lieutenant Stone is anxious to see his daughter."
Smiling, the nurse obliged.
The nurse ushered Mike and Lenny into the exam room where Jeannie was and Mike hurried to her side. Jeannie smiled at him. "Mike! Are you all right?" She eyed his bandaged hands worriedly.
"I'm just fine, sweetheart," Mike assured her. "Just some little scrapes." Behind him, Lenny rolled his eyes. "How are you?"
Not in the least taken in, Jeannie pretended to take him at his word – for the moment. "I'm all right," she replied, and thought she'd come by her evasiveness legitimately. "Sore, bruised, but I'll be fine," she promised.
The nurse who was bandaging her feet raised an eyebrow. "Keep off your feet as much as possible for the next week," she amplified. "There's no sign of a concussion, but you do need to take things easy until your headache abates."
"Thank you," Mike smiled. Knowing Jeannie was all right took a weight off his shoulders.
"How's Steve?" Jeannie asked.
For a moment, Mike was going to say something about their relationship, but knew that now was not the time. "I don't know," he admitted reluctantly. "I wanted to see you first. Why don't we go and find out together?" he suggested.
"I'll get you a wheelchair, Miss Stone," the nurse offered. "Lieutenant Stone, you can't push the chair with your hands like that."
"I'll push," Lenny offered, seeing Mike's face fall.
The hospital staff were being particularly obliging, Mike thought as a wheelchair materialised almost instantly. Not that they weren't always cooperative and kind, but he usually had to wait before being shown to bedsides or to get information. Today, it was almost as though they were VIPs. He followed the nurse along the corridor to the trauma unit and gulped as he held the door open for Jeannie and Lenny. It just reinforced how badly Steve was injured.
Steve lay on the table covered by a light sheet across his groin. A nurse was cleaning myriad scrapes on his torso. A drip ran into his left arm and Mike saw, with a sympathetic wince, that he had been catheterised. The blood and dirt had been washed from his face and his injured foot was in a traction splint. Three doctors were huddled around the light box looking at his x-rays.
"Steve!" Jeannie was stunned by how pale and drawn he looked.
"Jeannie?" Steve croaked and forced his eyes open. They were bloodshot and slightly glassy, but focussed without difficulty on Jeannie. "Jeannie, what happened?" he gasped. "You're in a wheelchair!"
"Easy, Mr Keller," the nurse reproved.
"I'm fine," Jeannie told him. "I've just got sore feet." She took his hand.
The doctors came over and one of them introduced himself as Dr Swan, senior orthopaedic surgeon. "I'm going to be taking Mr Keller up to surgery in a few minutes," he said, after introductions. "His ankle is badly broken and was displaced, too. I will be pinning it." He glanced at the notes he held. "Mr Keller was slightly hypothermic when he was brought in, so we'll finish warming him up in surgery. He has a moderate concussion and a colleague will stitch the gash on his head to minimise scarring. Apart from that, he is covered in a lot of bruises and scrapes that are going to leave him pretty sore for a while."
"Will he be able to return to police work?" Mike asked.
"I can't give any guarantees," Swan replied slowly. "There are too many variables – how the operation goes; how well he heals and how he responds to physical therapy, but… overall, he's young and fit and that is in his favour. It'll take a few months."
"Thank you," Mike breathed, well aware that he hadn't received the definitive answer that he required, but the surgeon had given him hope.
A blanket was tucked around Steve and a nurse took his IV from the stand. The x-rays were returned to their envelope and laid on the gurney with the patient. Jeannie stood briefly to give Steve a kiss and reluctantly let go of his hand. Mike patted Steve's shoulder, blinking back the tears he could feel prickling in his eyes.
As they reached the door, Bill Tanner came in, wearing a borrowed scrub shirt. He looked all right and leaned down to smile at Steve and tease him gently about 'dragging his sorry carcase across half California'. Steve smiled sleepily and then he was whisked into the elevator and gone from sight.
Mike had no idea what to do next. He was suddenly overwhelmingly exhausted, but he couldn't go home while Steve was in surgery.
"Mike!" Lenny had clearly said his name more than once. "Let's get something to eat, then we can go to the surgical waiting area. The nurse says the reporters are being kept out of the ER for the moment, but they can't keep them at bay forever. We'll be okay in the cafeteria and waiting area."
Nodding, Mike followed as Lenny pushed the wheelchair towards the elevator and then something the psychiatrist had said registered. "Reporters?" he asked.
"Somehow, the news reporters heard about Steve's rescue," Tanner explained. "They are desperate to interview all of us. You know what it's like; it's always nice to have a good news story after an earthquake."
"Huh!" Mike grunted, having no high regard for reporters. "No doubt they'd play up the love story aspect of it, too," he snorted. Jeannie blushed.
"You're just jealous that it isn't your love story," Lenny teased.
"I'll tell you, my love story with Helen was a story worth hearing," Mike retorted calmly. "Come on; let's eat." He marched on for a few minutes. "Say – was that why we were getting the VIP treatment?" A smile crept onto his face. "I could get used to that!"
It was impossible to say, later, how long they waited. Jeannie, Mike and Tanner all dozed intermittently. Lenny flipped through the magazines in the room. He resisted the urge to pace, although his nervous tension caused him to cross and re-cross his legs endlessly. He hated waiting.
Quite what shift in the air or obscure sense manifested itself to waken the sleepers Lenny was never to know. There was no banging of a door, no audible footsteps, but they awoke as one, mere moments before Dr Swan came in.
"How is he?" Jeannie asked, clutching Mike's hand so tightly that her knuckles were white.
"He's going to be fine," Swan replied. "I didn't need to pin his ankle after all. He was very fortunate; it was a good deal less of a jigsaw puzzle in there than the x-rays led me to believe." He smiled. "After some physical therapy, I expect him to be back to his old self. Once the surgical wounds have healed, we will fit him with a cast."
"Thank you," Jeannie breathed. She loosened her death grip on Mike's hand without ever being aware of it. Mike surreptitiously flexed his hand to restore the circulation.
"I'll be keeping Mr Keller for about a week," Swan went on, thinking that Steve was a lucky man. "He'll have the ankle elevated until such times as the swelling goes down. Then we'll get him on his feet and secure on his crutches before we let him home." He suddenly looked weary. "Now, I suggest you all go home yourselves and get a good night's sleep. Mr Keller won't be up to visitors before tomorrow."
"I'll get the car," Tanner offered, getting stiffly to his feet.
"No," Lenny corrected him gently. "I'll get the car and drop you all off at home."
It proved impossible to escape the waiting reporters. Lenny and the hospital security guards did their best to hold them at bay, but several photographers snapped pictures of Jeannie in particular and Mike could only grind his teeth and growl "No comment!" Finally, they got away and drove into the evening.
The storm had blown over and the streets glimmered softly under the sodium lights. Traffic was flowing properly again and it occurred to Mike that they hadn't felt any aftershocks for a while. "There doesn't seem to be much damage," he commented quietly. "Not to the city."
"No," Lenny agreed. "Everyone has been very lucky."
After a night spent undisturbed by either nightmares or aftershocks, Mike and Jeannie companionably ate breakfast while watching the news. Earthquake damage had been mostly minor in the city. There was more damage nearer the epicentre, the worst being The Traveller's Rest, which had partially collapsed before finally slithering down the cliff into the sea. There had been a few injuries, but no deaths. And from somewhere, the reporters had pieced together the story of Steve and Jeannie. There was some footage of them arriving at the hospital, Steve looking incredibly frail and the others covered in dirt and blood, their clothes damp and torn. Jeannie was mortified to hear herself being hailed as a heroine for her part in the rescue. Mike, however, could not disagree with the reporter.
Finally switching off the set, Mike sat down beside Jeannie and took her hand. "So tell me about you and Steve," he requested.
"You knew we were dating, didn't you?" Jeannie asked and Mike nodded. "Steve didn't know what to say to you, because you always made it clear that you didn't want me dating cops and you especially didn't want me dating Steve. He hated to deceive you."
"That was right at the beginning of our partnership," Mike protested. "I know him better now."
"But you didn't say anything to Steve to let him know things had changed," Jeannie reminded him. "I've always… fancied Steve," she admitted, blushing. "He's good looking, charming; good fun to be with. We became fast friends, as you know."
"Yes," Mike nodded.
"I'm a big girl now, Mike," she went on. "All grown up, whether you want to admit it or not. I asked Steve out on a date. You'll be glad to hear your warning made him hesitate." She smiled. "He didn't want to hurt you, but we've had feelings for each other for a long time. Mike, if Steve asks me to marry him, I'm going to accept. I love him."
"And you'll have my blessing," Mike told her with no hesitation, his voice husky with tears. He didn't say that Steve had already asked permission, albeit in a somewhat roundabout way.
"That means so much to me," Jeannie replied, her smile dazzling. "Thank you. I love you, Mike." She leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
"I love you, too, sweetheart," Mike responded, gathering her into an embrace and silently thanking Lenny for his insightful comments the previous day. He was truly blessed, because not only was he not losing his daughter, but he was adding to his family the man he already loved like a son.
The Steve who they found resting his broken, splinted ankle on a pile of pillows look 100% better than he had when they had last seen him. A square bandage covered the stitched gash by his hairline and he had more colour in his cheeks.
"Well, if it isn't the heroine of the earthquake," he teased as Jeannie and Mike hove into view, Mike gingerly pushing Jeannie in a wheelchair.
"Oh shut up!" Jeannie retorted wittily.
"Now, now, children," Mike chided gently. "Play nicely." He gave Steve a critical once-over. "You're looking better, buddy boy."
"I feel a lot better," Steve agreed. The pain from his foot and his persistent headache were both muted by the drugs; he had slept well and his appetite was returning. "I never got the chance to thank both of you for saving my sorry hide yesterday."
"It's not a sorry hide, despite what Bill Tanner said," Jeannie protested. She reached out and took his hand. After a moment, Steve wound his fingers through hers.
"Well, it's a fairly sorry hide," Mike teased and Steve grinned at him. "By the way, you owe me a new hat," he informed his partner.
"How do you figure that?" Steve asked, confused.
"It blew off in the storm as we rescued you," Mike explained, false indignation colouring his tones.
"Well, it's not like you don't have another one," Steve pointed out, eyeing the fedora that dangled from Mike's fingers. It looked exactly the same, to Steve's untutored eyes, as the one Mike claimed to have lost. "Are you sure you really lost it?" he asked suspiciously, having been on the end of one or two of Mike's jokes before now.
"He really did," Jeannie assured Steve, "but I'm sure he has a closet full of them." She glanced sideways at her father, blue eyes twinkling with mischief and Mike thought how beautiful she looked as he dropped his hat onto her head. They all laughed.
It was lovely to laugh and teased, but Mike sensed the young couple wanted to be alone. "How about I go and get some coffee?" he suggested.
At once, they both protested that he didn't need to do that, but Mike was not fooled. He rose to his feet and, standing behind Jeannie, nervously produced something from his jacket pocket. "Can you get my wallet for me, sweetheart?" he asked innocently, and while Jeannie obligingly hunted for his wallet, Mike palmed the object off to a very startled Steve.
"Mike…" Steve began, seeing what the object was.
"I know you think you don't want a cream cake to go with your coffee, but I bet you'll eat it all the same," Mike interrupted. "And I don't think they sell sunflower seeds in the cafeteria and think of the mess they would make of the bed. I'll be back soon," he added, taking the wallet from Jeannie and making a hasty exit.
For a moment, there was silence, then Steve cleared his throat. "Jeannie, I can't think you enough for saving my life yesterday."
"You don't have to, silly," Jeannie responded. "I love you, Steve."
"And I love you, too." Steve eased his position slightly. "I can't go down on one knee, but, Jeannie, if I could, I would. Will you marry me?"
"Yes!" Jeannie exclaimed and threw her arms round his neck. After a few minutes of mutual and enjoyable celebrations, Steve opened the box that Mike had given him and displayed the modest diamond ring within.
"That was my mother's ring," Jeannie gasped.
"Mike gave it to me," Steve told her. "I am more than happy to buy you the ring of your choice if you would rather not wear your mother's ring. I'm happy whatever you decide."
Blinking back the tears, Jeannie extended her left hand. Steve reverently took the ring from its velvet nest and slid it onto Jeannie's finger. It fit perfectly. "It looks wonderful," Steve told her, choked with emotion. Mike could not have given him a more precious gift if he had thought about it for the next hundred years. Giving Steve the ring told the couple more about Mike's approval and love than any words could. Jeannie threw her arms around Steve's neck again.
They were both more composed when Mike returned with coffee and sweet treats. He immediately spotted the ring on Jeannie's finger and a broad grin split his face. "Congratulations!" he cried and had to put down the tray he was carrying to wipe away a bittersweet tear. If only Helen was here…
"Mike, thank you for the ring," Steve said and Mike pumped his hand. "It is beautiful and means so much to both of us. Thank you for trusting me with it and with Jeannie."
"I know you'll look after her," Mike replied gruffly around the lump in his throat. "So when's the wedding?"
Smiling, the young couple clasped hands. "We've only just got engaged!" Steve protested. "Give us five minutes to enjoy that."
"I don't believe in long engagements," Mike replied. Somehow, he knew that Steve would soon be back on his feet and back at work. Everything was going to work out perfectly.
"I think we'll wait until Steve is off the crutches," Jeannie replied. "I don't want them to spoil the photos."
"Well, I guess you're right," Mike agreed. "Say – that'll give you the chance to buy my new hat in time for the wedding!"
The End