would have to swim for it.
Duffy opened her eyes and was instantly blinded by the glare of the water just inches away fi*om the speeding chair. She sprang upright, leaning forward, preparing to dive the instant the chair left land.
And she nearly catapulted out over the water as the wheelchair jolted to an abrupt, grinding halt at the very edge of the lake. Her head snapped to one side. She gasped as the chair jerked backward, tilted slightly, its wheels spinning frantically, and then settled shakily onto the sand.
When the chair finally sat sullenly and completely
still, Dufiy sagged against its back. Her chest heaved in an effort to restore normal breathing.
"You okay?" Dylan's voice whispered in her ear. **You okay, Duff? All in one piece?" And then he was there, kneeling beside her, taking her shaking hands in his, gazing up into her face with worried eyes.
She couldn't speak. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her eyes remained fastened in bewildered horror on the cold, silvery water. Then tears of hysteria began pouring down her cheeks, spilling over her lips and chin. **0h," she whispered numbly, "oh, oh . . ."
"Man, that chair weighs a ton!" Dylan exclaimed as staff members and patients alike began to gather around Duffy, expressing concern for her safety. "No wonder you couldn't stop it on your own. For a minute there, I didn't think I was going to be able to, either."
Dylan had saved her life. He'd risked being pulled into the water right along with her and the runaway chair. He had saved her. If only she could stop shaking and crying long enough to thank him.
"Thanks," she whispered, her tear-streaked face crumpling as the realization that she was safe began to sink in. 'Thanks, Dylan." Then she hid her face in her hands, her body trembling from head to toe.
The group of onlookers, uneasy with their inability to comfort her, murmured among themselves. One said in a low voice, "She needs a doctor," and turned to run up the hill.
Smith Lewis, followed closely by Amy Severn,
came running down the hill. 'What's going on?" Smith asked angrily as they arrived at the foot of the hill. "I thought I told you to stay where I put you," he began to accuse Duffy, and then realized the state she was in. 'What happened?" he asked Dylan. 'What's wrong with her? How did she get down here?"
"Take it easy, Lewis," Dylan warned, putting his hands protectively on the back of the wheelchair. "Duffy's had a really bad time. Did you check the brake on this chair before you left her?"
Smith flushed angrily. "Of course I did, Rourke. I checked it twice." His voice rose. "What happened!"
Then everyone began talking at once, a jumble of excited voices. None of it made any sense. Smith looked more confused than ever.
Duffy, her eyes glazed with shock, said numbly, "The chair ran away. It just... took off. If it hadn't been for Dylan, I'd ..." Fresh tears began to flow. "If it hadn't been for Dylan, I'd be in the lake right now." Her voice broke, "Oh, Gk)d, I came so close ..."
Smith looked stupified. "Ran away?"
"Yeah," Dylan said. "Took off. Escaped. Straight down the hill. With Duffy still in it."
"Dylan saved my life," Duffy said softly. "Can I go back to my room now, please?"
Smith's flush changed to pallor as he lifted his head to survey the steep distance the chair had covered so quickly. "You . . . you came down that hill in a wheelchair?"
"Yes, she did," Dylan answered emphatically, "and I think she should have her doctor check her out. Everyone move out of the way, please, so I can take her back inside."
"Yes," Duffy said, trying in vain to tear her gaze away from the sun-glistening lake. "Yes. I want to go back inside."
"Duffy," Smith said quietly, looking down at her with guilt-filled eyes, "I was sure I checked that brake. I'm sorry."
A fellow orderly standing by offered loyally, "Wasn't your fault, Lewis. Those brakes aren't much good. The chairs are ancient. Old Man Latham donated them years ago when he
Duffy opened her eyes and was instantly blinded by the glare of the water just inches away fi*om the speeding chair. She sprang upright, leaning forward, preparing to dive the instant the chair left land.
And she nearly catapulted out over the water as the wheelchair jolted to an abrupt, grinding halt at the very edge of the lake. Her head snapped to one side. She gasped as the chair jerked backward, tilted slightly, its wheels spinning frantically, and then settled shakily onto the sand.
When the chair finally sat sullenly and completely
still, Dufiy sagged against its back. Her chest heaved in an effort to restore normal breathing.
"You okay?" Dylan's voice whispered in her ear. **You okay, Duff? All in one piece?" And then he was there, kneeling beside her, taking her shaking hands in his, gazing up into her face with worried eyes.
She couldn't speak. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her eyes remained fastened in bewildered horror on the cold, silvery water. Then tears of hysteria began pouring down her cheeks, spilling over her lips and chin. **0h," she whispered numbly, "oh, oh . . ."
"Man, that chair weighs a ton!" Dylan exclaimed as staff members and patients alike began to gather around Duffy, expressing concern for her safety. "No wonder you couldn't stop it on your own. For a minute there, I didn't think I was going to be able to, either."
Dylan had saved her life. He'd risked being pulled into the water right along with her and the runaway chair. He had saved her. If only she could stop shaking and crying long enough to thank him.
"Thanks," she whispered, her tear-streaked face crumpling as the realization that she was safe began to sink in. 'Thanks, Dylan." Then she hid her face in her hands, her body trembling from head to toe.
The group of onlookers, uneasy with their inability to comfort her, murmured among themselves. One said in a low voice, "She needs a doctor," and turned to run up the hill.
Smith Lewis, followed closely by Amy Severn,
came running down the hill. 'What's going on?" Smith asked angrily as they arrived at the foot of the hill. "I thought I told you to stay where I put you," he began to accuse Duffy, and then realized the state she was in. 'What happened?" he asked Dylan. 'What's wrong with her? How did she get down here?"
"Take it easy, Lewis," Dylan warned, putting his hands protectively on the back of the wheelchair. "Duffy's had a really bad time. Did you check the brake on this chair before you left her?"
Smith flushed angrily. "Of course I did, Rourke. I checked it twice." His voice rose. "What happened!"
Then everyone began talking at once, a jumble of excited voices. None of it made any sense. Smith looked more confused than ever.
Duffy, her eyes glazed with shock, said numbly, "The chair ran away. It just... took off. If it hadn't been for Dylan, I'd ..." Fresh tears began to flow. "If it hadn't been for Dylan, I'd be in the lake right now." Her voice broke, "Oh, Gk)d, I came so close ..."
Smith looked stupified. "Ran away?"
"Yeah," Dylan said. "Took off. Escaped. Straight down the hill. With Duffy still in it."
"Dylan saved my life," Duffy said softly. "Can I go back to my room now, please?"
Smith's flush changed to pallor as he lifted his head to survey the steep distance the chair had covered so quickly. "You . . . you came down that hill in a wheelchair?"
"Yes, she did," Dylan answered emphatically, "and I think she should have her doctor check her out. Everyone move out of the way, please, so I can take her back inside."
"Yes," Duffy said, trying in vain to tear her gaze away from the sun-glistening lake. "Yes. I want to go back inside."
"Duffy," Smith said quietly, looking down at her with guilt-filled eyes, "I was sure I checked that brake. I'm sorry."
A fellow orderly standing by offered loyally, "Wasn't your fault, Lewis. Those brakes aren't much good. The chairs are ancient. Old Man Latham donated them years ago when he
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