“That may have been what your mom intended, but that’s certainly never what Neil and I intended. You’ve worked hard this summer, Rowen. You’ve been an asset to us, sweetie, not a liability.” Rose thumbed through the album in her lap. “I was just telling Neil I don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave us for school in a few weeks.”
A lot of information was coming at me. “You’re going to pay me?” I asked, feeling yet another lump form in my throat.
“That is what one does in exchange for work, Rowen.” She chuckled and rumpled my hair. “In the morning, we can start researching some community colleges with good art programs and late enrollment deadlines. Then we’ll get you signed up.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was speechless, and I was grateful, and I was overwhelmed. Art school on my own, paying my own way, dependent on no one but me.
It sounded wonderful. Too good to be true.
Then something jumped to mind, and I realized it was too good to be true.
“What about Jesse?” I’d pushed him away just a few hours ago, I’d turned and run away from him, but he was the first thing I thought about when I considered leaving Willow Springs.
Rose opened the album in her lap to the last page. I took a double take.
It was Jesse and me, sitting in one of the porch swings. His arm was draped over my shoulders like it always was when we were together, and my arm was wound around his stomach. He was looking down at me and I was looking up at him and we were just . . . grinning at each other. Like we were the happiest fools in the whole world.
That was why I’d needed a double take. I wasn’t used to the grinning, happy girl that had been caught on film. That wasn’t me.
Yet it was. The photo was all the evidence I needed to know I could change, like Jesse had. I could move on. I could be happy. I could move on and be happy . . . with him.
You know all those people who talk about epiphanies and life-changing revelations? Yeah, I’d been positive every last one of them was full of shit up until right then.
My mind was in that state between boggled and blown when a loud rapping sounded at the front door.
Rose’s eyebrows came together. “What in the world?” She rose and headed for the door. I rushed after her because part of me was worried my mom and Pierce were back for round two.
Rose glanced through the peephole before unlocking and swinging the door open.
“Justin,” she said, motioning him inside, “what’s the matter?” I’d seen some wet and dirty cowboys that summer, but not once had I seen one close to what Justin looked like. He was more mud than man.
“Sorry to burst in on you in the middle of the night, ma’am,” he said, sliding his hat off and making sure he stayed on the door mat. “But there’s been an accident.” Justin glanced my way for a brief moment. “It’s Jesse. He was out scouting the ridge, but when we all met back in the middle, Sunny showed up. Jesse wasn’t on him.”
I half gasped, half whimpered. Rose came up beside me and tried putting on a brave face. “Did he . . . do you think he might have fallen over the ridge?” Her voice wavered in places.
“We don’t know, ma’am,” Justin replied. “Neil and the rest of the boys are out searching for him right now, but he wanted me to let you know so you were . . . prepared for however we find him.”
I couldn’t decide if I was closer to passing out or having a heart attack. Either seemed probable.
“Listen here, Justin,” Rose said, stepping forward with me in tow. “My boy is strong and he knows this land like the back of his hand. You will find him and we’ll attend to whatever wounds he may have inflicted when you bring my boy back home. Bring. Him. Home.” It was the closest I’d seen Rose to breaking, the weakest I’d ever seen her. “Do you understand me?”
“We will, Rose,” he said, meeting her eyes. “We will.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Neil asked me to grab one of the big first aid kits and some flares. Could you help me with that?”
“Of course. Come with me.” Rose turned and rushed into the kitchen. “And don’t worry about tracking in mud. Now’s no time to be worried about dirtying the floors.”
I put my hand out as Justin passed me. “Do you know where he is?”
“We know about where he is,” he said. “The trouble with that ridge is that the trail’s so narrow, if your horse takes one wrong step, you’re free falling down a hundred feet of rock face. Jesse’s a good rider and has traveled that ridge hundreds of times, but the rain’s coming down so hard you can barely see more than ten feet in front of you out there, and the mud’s up to our horses’s knees in some places.”
“Has anyone taken the ridge to look for him?” I stopped him again when he tried to pass.
“At night? In this weather? No, it’s suicide unless you’re Jesse Walker. Then it’s just very, very dangerous.”
“You’re just going to leave him there? What if he’s hurt? What if he’s dying? Someone has to go look for him!” I felt frantic knowing he was out there somewhere, possibly injured, and I couldn’t get to him.
“There’s a way into that ravine. You just have to take the long way around if you don’t want to or can’t take the ridge. If he’s down there, we’ll find him, Rowen. We’re not going to leave him alone.”
“Yes, but you just said the long way around. How much time does that take?”
“A half a day—or night, in this case—on horseback,” he answered.
“If he’s hurt, he could be . . . he could be . . .” I couldn’t get it out, so I clamped my mouth shut.
“Were doing our best, Rowen,” Justin said quietly. “We all like Jesse. We’d all risk our necks for him, but going out on that ridge would be like throwing your life away. No one would make it to him before they fell over the side, too.”
When Justin moved to pass by again, I let him.
I felt helpless. I was helpless.
Or was I?
With Rose and Justin preoccupied in the storage closet, I threw open the door and stared at the barn. A loud, almost frantic whinny came from it.
I could do it. I would do it.
I retrieved my ratty combat boots from the shoe basket beside the door, pulled them on, and raced for the barn. Justin was right. The rain was coming down so hard, I couldn’t see too far in front of me.
Once I was inside the barn, I slowed just long enough to snag one of the rain coats and headlamps hanging just inside and made my way down the row of stalls. I didn’t have long. Rose and Justin would have their supplies packed, and as soon as she knew I’d disappeared, Rose would figure out what I was up to. She wouldn’t let me go and do what I was about to do. She’d throw me down and sit on me if she had to, but I wouldn’t sit around when Jesse needed me.
Most of the stalls were empty. Another loud whinny came from one of the stalls a bit farther down, and I almost cried when I saw who it was.
Sunny was as wet and muddy as Justin. He was in his stall, pacing around and rearing up onto his back legs every few paces. He acted as frantic as I felt. Justin must have led him back, and thankfully, he was still saddled and bridled.
Jesse had showed me how to both saddle and bridle a horse, but I wasn’t especially quick at it. Right then, time was critical.
“Whoa, boy,” I said, as calmly as I could. “Are you worried about Jesse, too?” After slipping into the rain coat, I reached for the gate and slowly slid it open. From the crazed look in Sunny’s eyes, I worried he’d come barreling out of the stall as soon as I opened it.
Sunny flung his head about a few more times, then went as calm as a high-spirited horse like Sunny could go. I slid the gate the rest of the way open and grabbed ahold of Sunny’s reins. He let me lead him out of the stall and even stood still for me when I lifted my foot up into the stirrup. In all the times Jesse and I had gone out for evening rides, I’d never ridden Sunny. I usually rode Lily’s horse, Buttercup. The only time I rode Sunny was if Jesse
was on him with me. Sunny didn’t like any other riders except for Jesse. The couple ranch hand show-offs I’d seen try it had been thrown within five seconds.
And there I was, someone who’d never ridden a horse before that summer, about to ride a one-man horse into the worst possible riding conditions. My survival instincts apparently took a vacation when I knew Jesse was in trouble.
I shifted my weight into the stirrup and swung my other leg up and over. I grimaced the entire time, bracing my body for Sunny to throw me off as soon as I settled into the saddle. A few seconds later, I opened my eyes to make sure I was in the saddle, on top of Sunny.
Sure enough.
Buttercup never even stood so steady and she was a twenty-year-old mare who could barely manage a trot anymore.
“Okay, Sunny,” I said, grabbing hold of the reins. “I’m going to need your help, buddy. I need you to help me find Jesse.” I slid the rain coat hood over my head and squeezed Sunny’s sides. He moved. He actually accepted a command from someone other than Jesse. “Take me to Jesse.” We emerged from the barn into the same sheets of rain. Sunny whinnied, and I just barely made out a form looking out the kitchen window. So much for my head start.
Grabbing onto the saddle horn as well, I clucked my tongue, and Sunny sprang to life.
Other than holding on for dear life and trying not to fall out of the saddle, I let Sunny do the rest. He raced past the corrals, past the driveway, and turned without any prompting from me. He really was taking me to Jesse. Sunny charged down the dirt road I’d driven a few times when I had to take lunch out to the guys working in the upper fields.
It wasn’t a dirt road anymore. It was a mud road. Sunny lost his footing a few times in the sludge, but I managed to stay in the saddle. Clumps of mud hit me from every angle, and the rain, at our speed, hurt my face until it finally went numb. It was the most rain I’d ever seen, and I’d grown up in Portland, Oregon.
Sunny charged ahead like he was the underdog in the Kentucky Derby. He did all the work, he blazed the trail; all I did was manage to hold on. So why did I feel so damn exhausted by the time Sunny’s gallop slowed? Might have had something to do with being soaked to the bone and my lower half being all tingly and numb from bouncing around in the saddle.
We were long past the spot I’d dropped the guys’ lunch off. I couldn’t tell how far, but I knew it was miles farther. The rain was slowing, so the visibility had slightly improved, but when I saw where Sunny was heading, I kind of wished I couldn’t see a thing again.
We were winding down a trail that continued to narrow. Where we were, the trail was wide enough for two riders to travel side by side, but every few feet, it got narrower and narrower until, finally, it seemed barely wide enough for Sunny and me.
To my left was a sheer rock face that went straight up a good twenty feet or so. To my right was a drop off. I couldn’t tell how far down the ravine was, but I could tell it was pretty far away from how long the rocks Sunny’s hoofs sent over the edge took to fall.
My heart pounded the farther down the ridge we traveled. Every survival instinct I possessed clawed at me to turn around and go back. Had turning around been possible on the narrow trail, I might have attempted it. I might have if any person but Jesse was down there.
That’s what kept me going. That’s what I knew kept Sunny going.
Jesse.
A moment later, I felt it. The oddest sensation I’d experienced to date. As though a slack rope I hadn’t even known I’d been tied to went taut, I could go no farther. I pulled up on Sunny’s reins, but it was a wasted effort. Sunny had stopped an instant before.
We’d found him. I knew it. It wasn’t just the rope I could feel. It was him.
“Good boy, Sunny,” I praised him, rubbing his neck. “You found him.”
I slipped on the headlamp and clicked it on. It didn’t cut through as much of the dark and the rain as I would have hoped, but I could make out that the drop off from that part of the trail was less treacherous looking. It was still steep but manageable with the proper equipment and experience. I happened to have neither.
I decided on which way I’d take down into the ravine before dismounting. Trying to climb off a horse on a trail that was maybe three feet wide was no easy task, but I managed it without causing permanent injury to human or horse.
I did one final check of my planned route before taking a deep breath. “I’m going to go get him, boy. I’m bringing Jesse back.” I didn’t know who I was trying to reassure, me or Sunny, but he replied with a low neighing sound.
I didn’t stall any longer. Staring over the precipice wouldn’t get me to Jesse any faster. I lowered my right foot, and when it felt stable, I lowered my left. The slope felt just as steep as it looked, but I was doing it. I was side-stepping, grabbing a hold of any branch, rock, or vine I could to give myself a bit more balance as I continued down.
I was in action, so my heart wasn’t in my throat any longer and I didn’t feel like I was on the verge of a panic attack. I’d jumped, quite literally, and there was no going back. Not without Jesse beside me.
My old boots didn’t look anything like hiking boots, but they worked like champs on the muddy, steep, and uneven terrain. It was a bit surreal knowing a pair of black leather boots had saved me two different times in my life.
I was almost to the bottom of the ravine, not even a body length away, when I lost my foothold. The branch I’d been using as a support snapped, and I spent the last part of my descent rolling down the hill.
I groaned when I landed. The nice thing about the buckets of rain that had come down was that it had made the ground soft. Other than being a muddy mess and waking up to a few bruises in the morning, I was just fine.
I readjusted my headlamp and scanned the area. The ravine wasn’t much more than some scraggly bushes and rock, but it was enough to conceal a body. So I’d check around every bush, rock, and cranny in the whole damn ravine if that’s what it took. He was down there, I knew that. Just waiting for me to find him.
The thunder had died down almost entirely, so I held my head back and yelled his name over and over again as I searched.
No answer. No Jesse.
He was close, so close. I felt him, so why couldn’t he hear me? Why wasn’t he answering me? The only reason he wouldn’t answer was if . . . My stomach twisted into a knot.
No. I wouldn’t let myself think that. I wouldn’t think that.
He was there. He was fine.
I started moving faster, searching more frantically. I had just rounded one of the bigger shrubs I’d seen in the ravine when I tripped over something. I flew to the ground again, followed by another groan.
Scratch that: I would wake up to more than “just a few” bruises in the morning.
“Rowen?”
My heart about burst right out of my chest. I rolled over and sat up to see what I’d tripped over. Well, who I’d tripped over.
“Jesse!” I cried, crawling toward him. He was laying on the ground, his back propped up against a level rock. He was as muddy and drenched as I was and looked so beat up, my breath caught in my lungs.
“What in the hell are you doing out here?” he said, struggling to sit up. He winced, grabbed his ribs, and collapsed back down into his prior position.
“Are you all right?” I crawled closer and scanned his body for visible signs of damage.
“I’m fine,” he answered, shifting up again. That time, he made it, although from the look on his face, I would have thought someone just shoved a hot poker through his hand.
“Bull crap!” I said, noticing the way he favored his left arm. “What’s hurt?”
“Pretty sure I broke my arm.” He glanced at the arm he held carefully. “And a couple ribs.” My eyes shifted to his chest. I couldn’t see anything, but I could imagine the pain that came along with broken ribs. “And I’m going to need some stitches at the back of my head.”
I scurried behind him to inspect his head. Sure enough, d
ried blood matted his hair just below the crown. When I felt the stirrings of panic, I reminded myself I’d found him and that he was alive. Bones could be mended, wounds could be stitched. Jesse needed me. He needed me to be calm and clear headed for the both of us.
It went against everything I knew, but I fought the panic. Inspecting his head wound to make sure it wasn’t leaking enough fresh blood to be concerning, I came around to his side again. His breathing was a little fast and his color was a couple shades lighter than normal, but otherwise, his injuries didn’t seem life-threatening.
“What are you doing out here, Rowen?” he asked, inspecting my body like I’d just done his.
“I came to find you,” I answered as I wiped the mud from his face with the back of my hand.
“How did you get down here?”
I swallowed and pointed up the cliff face.
His expression went pretty much exactly how I thought it would go: flabbergasted with a trace of outraged. “You realize that’s called Suicide Ridge for a reason, right?”
I crossed my arms and sat up on my heels. I wasn’t there to argue with him. “Do you?”
“Yeah, I do. That’s why I take it seriously when I travel it,” he replied. I couldn’t stop staring at the way his right arm cradled his left arm.
“And you call it ‘taking it seriously’ when you decided to travel it in the middle of the night during the storm of the century?” Why was I still arguing with him? Really, all I’d wanted to do since I’d stumbled over him was kiss him hard on the mouth and cuddle close until help came.
“It is when you see the calf everyone’s been looking for at the bottom of the ravine.” Jesse tilted his head toward the big shrub. I hadn’t noticed at first, but a tiny black calf was laying under the shelter of the bush. She was as wet and muddy as the rest of us but resting as peacefully as I’d ever seen an animal sleep.
“You broke your arm, your ribs, and your damn head to save a baby cow?” I said, waving my hands at the calf.
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