Jacie lay without moving, eyes almost closed as she faced the dull grey sky. Slowly, her brain assimilated information. She had fallen and so had Brad. A heavy damp fog hung everywhere.
"Help!" she called out. Her voice sounded weak as it echoed around the stone ledges.
Her face and clothes were damp. She felt chilled. All around her was a strange, ethereal quiet. Shards of rock and debris showered down on her. Moving carefully, she managed to sit up, groaning as every muscle in her body protested. Pain burned like a brand between her shoulders, but she was alive. What about Brad?
"Brad!"
She heard a sound, like a groan. Biting her lips, she pulled herself on her elbows to the edge of the rocky precipice.
Lying on her stomach, she could see a figure on a ledge below her. She could not see Brad's face. He lay unmoving and appeared to almost blend into the rock. Drifting fog made it almost impossible to see anything.
"Brad!" she called, "I'm above you." She rolled to her side, glad there was no pain to indicate cracked or broken ribs. She had been lucky, she decided, looking upwards. Sort of.
She wondered how long they had been here. She remembered the horses and felt a ray of hope. When they returned alone, someone would come. Except that no one knew where they were, except Bonnie. What had happened to her?
Sloan. She groaned. He would be worried. Why hadn't she stayed with him this morning? None of this would have happened.
Rain began to fall gently. She had to figure out a way to safety.
Brad could die from exposure. That thought made her stand up. She did so carefully, wondering if the ledge she stood on was secure. With the exception of an overall soreness, she didn't think she had broken anything.
Looking up, she scanned the ledge. Going down was impossible, she knew it was a sheer drop. The way out was up.
"Brad!" she shouted. "I'm going to climb out. I'll be back."
There was no answer. He had lost a lot of blood, he could be in shock.
She chewed her lip nervously. She had never attempted rock climbing without the proper ropes, and if she fell again, this time she probably wouldn't be so lucky.
All she knew was she had to get out. Blanking her mind to any fear, she flattened herself against the craggy rock and began to climb.
Carefully, she searched for toe and finger holds, prayer like a litany upon her lips.
Jacie lay a moment, hardly caring that her cheek rested against caked mud, glad of the bits of grass tickling her nose. It was a brief respite, she knew she must push on, but she needed just a moment to rest.
She wasn't sure how late it was. The day was dark and the fog looked to have enveloped everything. The air was so heavy it felt like wet wool clinging to her clothes. She rolled onto her side, conscious of her burning fingertips.
Brad.
She stood. It had been a long, hard climb out of the ravine; it had seemed a lifetime. She looked around and tried to get her bearings. Staggering, she started across the field. It was a muddy quagmire from the rain and what the cattle had churned up.
It had rained most of the day and she was past cold. Her throat felt raw from yelling. She had given up on that quickly, concentrating instead on not falling. The closer she had gotten to the top, the harder the climb became.
Bemused, she put a hand to her temple. The day had begun so differently. She had been so content and filled with thoughts of Sloan. . ..
God! He probably thought she had fallen from the face of the earth. With a grim smile, she conceded they almost had.
A noise broke the silence, startling in its suddenness. Twin beams of light cut across the pasture. She forced her legs to move as she waved her arms.
Bright light sliced across her and just as suddenly an engine accelerated. The lights jumped wildly as the truck raced across the uneven pasture.
Such enormous relief welled she couldn't stop the moisture burning her lids. Somehow, she knew it had to be Sloan.
Sloan brought the vehicle to a sliding halt in the slick mud. The lights pierced the fog eerily, silhouetting Jacie’s filthy bedraggled figure in the arc of light.
He jerked the door open and jumped from the truck. In the next instant he enfolded her in his arms. It felt like forever since he had held her this close. She was shivering and fell into him.
"Sloan," she said hoarsely.
"Jacie! I've been out of my mind. We’ve been out on horseback all day. Since dark I’ve been driving all over, hoping to find a clue, anything. We didn’t know where to look. Did you get caught here when the herd spooked?"
She pulled back and tugged him toward the edge. "Brad's down there, Sloan. He's still down there."
"Sweetheart, come sit in the truck before you collapse." He urged her over to the truck and the open driver door. She slid onto the vinyl seat. Jerking his sweatshirt off, he placed it over her head and pulled her arms through the armholes. "You’re frozen." He pulled a wool blanket from behind the truck seat and wrapped it around her shoulders.
"Thanks, that feels wonderful."
He picked up his cell phone on the dashboard and quickly dialed the rescue number, all the while keeping an eye on her. She leaned her head back against the headrest, her eyes closed.
Suddenly, she lifted her head. "Brad's down over the edge," she said, her voice stronger. She jumped down from the truck seat and he gripped her arm.
"Hang on. Where are you going?"
"We have to get him out, he’s been shot."
"Shot!"
She squinted in the dim light at her watch. "The crystal's broken. I don't know how long, since this morning."
Sloan put his arms around her shoulders, feeling like he couldn’t get her close enough. He felt the tremble in his own arms. "What the hell has happened and how do you know he’s down there?" He put her at arm's length and ran his glance over her more thoroughly. The mud on her shirt was soaking through the sweatshirt and her jeans had holes in the knees.
"What happened to you?"
"We both fell down the ledge."
"You fell?" He lowered his voice, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to start yelling. "How did you fall. . .how did you get out? It's almost sheer ledge."
"The herd."
"I've been out of my mind, wondering where you could be. I couldn't pick up a track with the rain. I don't want to tell you the things going through my head. I don’t want to go through that hell again."
She gripped his arm tightly. "It was Bonnie all along. She was after the money. She came back here expecting to find only me. Brad tried to get the gun away from her and she shot him. The shots spooked the cattle and our horses took off. The ledge beneath us crumbled―"
Sloan tried to follow the rapid words.
"Brad fell and then I fell." She took a deep breath and her voice evened out a degree. "I managed to climb out, but that's not important now, we have to get Brad."
"It damn well is important. This isn't over," he promised with a growl.
"What can we do?"
"I called search and rescue. I’ll notify James we found you and have the police come to this area. Where did Bonnie go?"
"She must have made it across the field before we were forced to the edge."
"They can track her down later. It will take at least fifteen minutes for a rescue team to arrive."
"I'm worried about Brad. The rawness of the air...it's getting colder. Can we lower a rope, maybe make a sling?" she asked hopefully.
"I’ll tie a rope to the truck winch and lower myself over the edge."
"No. He unconscious, you'll never find him. We can save precious time if I go back down. I can cover him if you have a blanket. When the paramedics arrive I can show them where he is."
"No."
"Yes." Urgently, she grabbed his sleeve. "I have to. I know where he is. Besides, we're wasting time arguing."
"You look as if you’ve been through hell. You might be suffering a concussion. I won't chance it."
"I can do it," she insisted fier
cely. "I came up over the top without any lines, I can go back down with a rope. If you're worried about concussion, check my eyes, whatever, but hurry."
He swore, but shone the light in both her eyes. He snapped the light off with a muttered curse. "Dammit, Jacie...I'll come with you."
"I need you to guide the rope over the ledge, it’s razor sharp where it broke off, and somebody has to run that winch."
He banged his closed fist into his thigh. She glared at him, not saying a word. Clenching his jaw, he unwound the coil of rope and began tying knots. After a moment he secured the rope about her waist, back and upper thighs. Tension coiled inside him. He was afraid for her. He had almost lost her once today.
She gripped the rope, but he forestalled her. "Let me secure this to the winch."
He started the winch motor. The truck lights dimmed momentarily, then the motor began with a low whirring sound and he pulled the steel cable out several feet from the bumper. With several knots he secured the rope to the winch's hook.
Sloan crouched beside her to check the rope about her waist and thighs. "Here," he said tersely, handing her a pair of gloves. "They're big, but they'll protect your hands." He handed her the blanket she'd had on her shoulders. "You can use this to cover him."
She pulled on the gloves. He helped her stuff the blanket between her stomach and the ropes. She looked at him and he saw the longing and unspoken tenderness in her eyes. He rubbed the pad of his thumb along her jaw. "You swear you can do this?" he asked tersely, a terrible ache in his throat.
"I know I can."
"I’m going to trust you, Jacie," he muttered.
Grabbing the ropes, she turned to face the truck. He checked the ropes again, and then helped her lower herself over the edge.
"Jacie." He held her by the upper arms, her legs dangling in the air. "Bad timing, but I love you." He pulled her upper body to him, his arms catching her in a bear hug.
"What a coincidence," she whispered back. "I feel the same way. I love you too."
He stuffed a small flashlight in her back pocket, gave her a quick put his hand behind her head and gave her a kiss, then he lowered her over the edge.
"I can do this," she insisted quietly.
He wished he felt the same calm certainty. "Be careful, dammit."
"That's romantic," she quipped and then she disappeared over the edge.
§ Chapter Fifteen §
Jacie dropped below the outcropping of rock she had landed on earlier, the night dark and quiet all around her.
Her eyes strained the shadowy blackness, her hands feeling along the rock face as she dropped further into empty air.
"Brad!" she called. Surely she must be near the ledge where she had landed.
"Jacie?" Tremendous relief flooded her as she heard Brad's voice below her. She had feared he was unconscious.
"Jacie, are you all right? Where are you?" His voice sounded weak.
"I'm fine." A little further and she touched a jutting ledge with the toe of her boot. "Hang on, Sloan’s up on top."
Digging her fingers into crevices, ignoring the stinging pain from earlier scratches, she pulled herself on her stomach onto the ledge.
Remembering the flashlight in her back pocket, she gripped it and flicked the switch. Nothing. With a muttered curse, she hit it against the heel of her hand. The light came on and she quickly swept the area. Brad lay in an awkward position, blood pooling beneath one leg, an arm twisted at an odd angle. Willing herself to remain calm, she touched his shoulder.
"Jacie? Are you all right?" he asked weakly.
"Of course. Sloan called for rescue, they should be here soon."
She was surprised he didn’t mention his arm. Perhaps he was in shock. "I have something to cover you."
She pulled out the blanket wedged between the ropes and her stomach and laid it over him.
"Jacie, I’m sorry for all that’s happened."
She couldn’t quite make out his face in the fog. "This isn’t your fault," she said. "You did your best to keep Bonnie from hurting me up there."
"You should have left me down here the way I left you," he said bitterly. "But nothing scares you, does it Jacie?"
"It’s over with."
"I know, it’s all over, and I’m sorry for all that went wrong."
The rope around her waist jerked. Looking up, she could now see several bright lights above them, but the outcropping of ledge over them prevented anyone on top from seeing her.
Rescue members outfitted with ropes and equipment soon dropped to the ledge where they waited and immediately began to work on Brad. With relief, Jacie felt her rope begin to tauten and she was pulled upwards.
As she neared the top, she was so tired that she lost her foothold against the rock face and began to whirl in the air. She closed her eyes, suddenly overcome with dizziness.
Finally, the rope moved again and hands reached down. Someone grabbed her belt loops and pulled her the rest of the way over the edge. She landed against Sloan, her face buried in his neck. She lay still, thankful to have made it.
"Don't ever do that to me again," he said harshly.
She lay on top of him in a tangle of ropes. "Doesn't this remind you of our first meeting?" she asked with a small hiccup of a laugh.
"I'd rather do that ten times over than ever let you go down there again," he said fervently.
The rescue team hoisted Brad to the top. As they carried the stretcher past them, Brad reached out and gripped Sloan’s sleeve.
"I wish we’d met under better circumstances," he said. "Good luck." Sloan dipped his head in acknowledgement and then they placed Brad in a brightly lit ambulance. The vehicle drove off with an eerie wail, red lights a short-lived beacon in the dense fog.
Someone with rescue squad insignia on their arm carefully pushed the hair back from her face. Gently, fingers probed her temple and forehead.
"Are you all right, Miss?" the woman asked. "You should be checked out at the hospital."
Jacie shook her head, her fingers twisting in Sloan's shirt. "No thanks, I feel fine. Just fine," she whispered softly. "Just tired."
He supported her sagging body. "Get a stretcher over here," he barked. He insisted she lay down on the stretcher and he covered her with a blanket.
Almost immediately, her shivering subsided.
"I'm having you taken to the hospital to be checked out." His voice brooked no argument.
"Where’s Jacie?" A new voice was added to the chaos around them. "Is my sister okay?"
She jerked upright and then fell back against Sloan where he knelt beside the stretcher. Her legs were still curiously numb from the tightness of the rope. Pins and needles tingled as the blood began to circulate.
"Con?" she squeaked.
"Jacie, I just heard what happened. Are you okay?" her brother asked. "I'm not here ten minutes and I find out the sirens and police involve you," her brother said, pushing a hand agitatedly through his short-cropped hair.
"I’m okay, why are you here?" she asked.
"I just got back in the States. Sloan had the sense to call me."
Sloan twisted around to face her brother and extended his hand. "Glad you got here so quick," he said quietly.
As they shook hands Jacie saw her brother take note of Sloan's arm around her. Eyes narrowing, he said to Sloan, "I guess you didn't tell me everything that was going on here."
Sloan looked him straight in the eye. "Some things you don't go into over the phone."
"I owe you," Con said.
"Well, I’m glad to see you two are bonding," she said tiredly. Closing her eyes, she lay flat.
"Sloan, we’ve found a body," a voice said behind them.
Jacie bit back a cry, shocked by what the officer had said. It was Deputy Bryant.
"At the edge of the woods," he continued. "It’s a woman. I’ve notified the coroner. Looks like she might have been caught in the stampede."
"Bonnie?" she whispered, her stomach churning.
> The deputy tipped his hat to her. "Ms. Turner, I’m going to need a statement." He turned his attention back to Sloan. "We also found a pistol, looks like a .22 caliber." He hesitated a moment. "I need someone to identify the body."
"Can we take care of that tomorrow?" Sloan asked. "Jacie needs to go to the hospital."
"No," she said.
"Yes," said Officer Bryant.
She turned to Sloan and gave him a tremulous smile. "I’m really okay. I just want to go back to your place."
He put an arm under her legs and behind her back, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. She felt the exhausted tremble in her limbs, but protested at him carrying her.
He held her close. "I’m not letting you go. Let's get you home." He turned to her brother. "I'm taking Jacie to my place. I'll call the doctor from there. He makes house calls. You're welcome to come along."
Reading the possessive look on his face, she ceased her protest. The man had had a difficult day, let him do what he wanted.
Ω
About mid-morning the following day, Sloan nudged the door open, careful not to make any noise. Looking toward the bed, he studied the woman who lay there. Jacie’s hair swept across the pillows and the bedcovers were twisted about her.
Untamed and brave, Jacie was special. That's what he loved about her. That's why he’d be a fool to let her go.
Her slim white back was exposed to his view. Sloan's lips tightened grimly as he surveyed the angry purplish bruises on her shoulders and spine, the scratch running the full length of her back. And her hands...he swallowed, closing his eyes, thanking God for keeping her safe.
It had been an awful risk letting her go back down that ledge. He felt as if he’d aged ten years while she was down there.
He placed the tray on the bedside table as she began to stir. She stretched and then groaned.
"Don't move," he said. He knew he sounded incredibly bad-tempered. Jacie, of course, rolled over anyway and groaned again. She looked down and made an attempt to pull the bedcovers up over her breasts.
"Too late," he said grimly. "I've seen it all. You're a mess."
She lifted the covers and looked down at herself, then dropped the covers again. "God."
"Yeah," he agreed.
Heartstealer (Women of Character) Page 20
