If Renee and Charlie were trapped in this, they wouldn’t last long. Don’t be hurt, he thought. Be okay. Sweat began to roll down his back, despite the chill.
The lead dog stopped and began barking at something ahead of him. He thought he heard a female voice yell “Thor!” but that might be just the wind.
The dog hunched down and barked once at someone or something.
Daz shouted for Renee and Charlie again as he jumped over a fallen tree. His next step came up nothing but air. He flailed his arms wildly to maintain his balance, reached back, found a steady branch and hauled himself away from the edge.
Fuck, that was close. He’d nearly gone over.
Oh God. Just like they must have done. How high was this cliff?
He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Renee! Charlie!”
“Daz?!”
“Dad!”
Alive. They were both alive.
“I’m here! Hang tight. You hurt?” Please say no.
Fingers fumbling from the cold, he tied one end of the rope to a sturdy pine that shouldn’t come down, no matter how bad the snowstorm.
“Not hurt,” Renee screamed from somewhere below. “Stuck!”
As he feared. “How far down are you from this edge?”
“About six feet,” she answered.
Six feet. Six feet was definitely doable. He had plenty of rope for that.
“How far to the bottom?” he yelled.
“Thirty.”
Fuck. No sense trying to lower them gently to the bottom rather than pulling them up. Too many things could go wrong with them starting so high up. Better to yank them back this way, ASAP.
“I’ve got rope. Hang on!”
How they hell had they gotten stuck? He noticed one of Renee’s ugly orange scarves tied around a branch littering the ground. Had Charlie gone over and she’d tried to grab him, using the scarf as support? He’d ask later.
He tightened the rope around the pine and knelt over the edge, searching with the flashlight. He spotted them together, one large person and one small person covered in snow, huddled against the trunk of a tree growing sideways out of the ground. Renee had her arms wrapped in a death grip around Charlie. The remains of a scarf hung limply from her wrist. The cliff was about a seventy-degree angle and littered with wet leaves. No way they could climb back up.
Damn, this was going to be tricky, even with the rope.
“Hey, Charlie!”
“Dad! How’d you get here? You’re like a superhero!”
“Maybe so.” Daz smiled. Despite the situation, his son’s voice was steady. Renee had kept him calm. He better follow her example and not let the kid see how worried he was. Treat it like work. Like any rescue. But it wasn’t. This was his family. Now he wished he had Alec with him. Alec could grab them with the TK. Alec was really a superhero.
“Situational assessment, Renee?” he called to her.
He’d asked her that when they worked together in disaster relief but never had he needed her more clear-headed than now.
“Traction’s terrible. We’re not getting up without a rope for leverage and a strong back pulling us up.”
“Luckily, I have both.”
“Great.” The relief in her voice was palpable.
“I’ll lower the rope to you. Tie it around both of you and I’ll pull you up.”
“We’ll be about two-hundred pounds of dead weight to you.”
“No problem.”
He backed off to prepare. She was right to be concerned about pulling them both up at once. Two hundred pounds was about right considering their winter gear and the snow caked on it. He could do it but it wouldn’t be easy in this weather.
It would be safer to get Charlie, then Renee, but separate rescues would take time and he wasn’t sure how much they had. He uncoiled the other end of the rope and tossed it over. “Here it comes!”
“Got it!” About thirty seconds later, thirty long seconds where his mind screamed at him to get them out of this storm before the very woods themselves began raining down on them, the line went taut.
“Pull, Daz!” Renee yelled.
He braced his foot against the trunk of the fallen tree for leverage, wrapped the rope around his wrist and arm to prevent slippage and pulled. The rope bit into his gloves, threatening to cut off circulation, but the load was unexpectedly light.
She’d sent Charlie up first, to make absolutely certain their son was safe, even if it did mean she might get left behind. She’d put her safety at risk for their son.
Dammit, Renee.
Pull and wrap the line, pull and wrap the line, don’t worry about Renee, don’t worry that Charlie would fall, don’t worry about anything, just keep pulling…
“Dad!”
Charlie’s head and shoulders, shrouded in white, appeared at the top of the cliff’s edge.
“Hey, Charlie!” Daz grinned and gave more one big pull. Charlie rolled on his back to steady ground.
One down.
“Crawl to me so I can get that rope off you.”
Charlie tried to stand, slipped on the leaves, thought better of it, and instead crawled the few feet on his hands and knees to Daz. But it was a weird, half-sideways crawl. And there seemed to be a lump under Charlie’s jacket.
“You hurt?”
“Nah.” Charlie scrambled to his feet, his hand under the lump in his jacket. “You’ll pull Mom up too? You won’t leave her here?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
Charlie glared at him. “Well, sometimes you don’t seem to like her much.”
“I like her just fine.”
One of the dogs sniffed at a lump under Charlie’s coat. He giggled.
Good, the calmer Charlie was, the more he could concentrate on getting Renee up. Daz knocked snow off his son’s hat and untied the rope from under his shoulders. “What’s your dog sniffing at? What’s that lump?”
“That’s Odin. My new cat.”
“You have a cat under there?”
“My cat!”
“Sure, fine.” Get Renee first, deal with this later. “You and your cat chill while I get your mom.” Daz pointed to the pine tree that he’d wrapped the rope around. “Stand up against that tree. Wait right there while I get your mom. Do. Not. Move.”
“I want to help.”
“You’ll help by doing what I said. And you’re wasting time.”
“Got it,” Charlie mumbled, both hands wrapped around the lump, er, cat.
Wood creaked around them again, more branches straining against the weight of leaves and snow. Faster, Daz told himself. He tossed the rope back over the edge again.
“Is Charlie safe?” Renee yelled.
He could barely hear the question over the wind. “He’s fine. Tug when you’re set to go.”
He wrapped the rope around his wrist tighter than the first time. Renee might be skinny but she still weighed more than the kid, and his gloves and the line were becoming slick from the snow.
He braced himself again, waiting, waiting…
“When!” Renee called and tugged on the rope.
Daz took a deep breath, set his feet, and pulled. The tension vibrated up his arms to his shoulders and back. He pulled, wrapped the excess rope around his wrist, and pulled again. The rope bit into his wrist just above his gloves.
“Fuck.”
“That’s a bad word, Dad.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He knocked the snow from his gloves, brushed it off the line and fell into a new rhythm. Pull, wind up the extra rope around his arm, pull again…
He put his back and legs into the effort, stepping back with each yank, getting his full strength behind it all.
“Just one more big pull, Daz!”
Good, because he was r
unning out of room on his arm. He heaved, arms, shoulders, back and legs all into a final effort.
Like Charlie before her, Renee’s face and shoulders appeared over the top of the ridge. He let out a deep breath and held steady.
She scrambled up to safety with the help of the same branch Charlie had used, and rose to her knees.
“Mom!” Charlie yelled.
He took a step toward her. She put up a hand. “Stay right there, Charles Baldur Black.”
He froze. “Yes’m.”
Daz took a deep breath and grinned at her, feeling as much relief at the sight of her as he’d felt when he had his son safe. Life without Renee was unacceptable.
She grinned back. Hell, she was wearing that damned green peacoat that had been ragged for ages. He resisted the urge to pick her up, crush her against him and kiss her.
Renee stood, put her hands on her knees and bent over to catch her breath. “Well, that was fun. Not.”
“Yeah,” Daz said, still smiling. He’d tried to tell himself over the years that he was over their breakup, that he was fine with the way things were between them now.
Liar.
He’d known that when he was certain he was going to be killed in Germany. Seeing Renee almost lose her life just confirmed it.
She untied her knots. He gathered up the excess rope. She took one step, tripped over a tree root hidden in the debris, and fell against him.
He caught her easily and wrapped his arms around her. Ah, this was good. Perfect. As it should be. Wonder of wonders, she even returned the hug.
“Hey,” he finally said. Hello there.
“Hey.” She brushed snow off his shoulders. A second or two passed and then Charlie joined them, turning it into a group hug.
“That was great, Dad!” He pumped his fist. “You are Batman.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“He’s right. You’re Batman. The superhero without powers.” Renee smiled, broke the hug and took Charlie’s hand. “We should get moving.”
Right, right. There was that little thing called a snowstorm. But once they were inside…Batman, the superhero without superpowers? Hell, for the charge to his ego alone, he needed Renee.
“Good boys!” Renee whistled for the dogs and waved her hands. “Home,” she ordered them.
The dogs barked once and set off. They followed, though their pace was slower due to the wet leaves, sticks and branches already littering the ground. Charlie kept his hand under the lump sticking out from his jacket and that slowed them even more. Several times, Daz had to lift Charlie over some fallen limbs. During those times, the lump under his coat didn’t move.
Damn well behaved for a cat, Daz thought, and hoped it wasn’t injured. Daz fell back a few steps behind them to monitor Charlie’s progress. Renee said something to their son that Daz couldn’t hear.
Charlie laughed, a perfect, beautiful sound.
My family, Daz thought. My family.
And yet, he was the outsider. He’d prided himself on taking responsibility for Charlie, even after the breakup with Renee. But he’d missed being present for much of Charlie’s first two years because of being stationed halfway across the world from Renee. No, not just stationed. He’d volunteered for a mission that caused him to miss Charlie’s birth. It’d been necessary. His duty. But…
He’d been playing catch-up ever since. Charlie had been easy to re-bond with. Renee had been a completely different story. It probably would’ve helped if he’d told her he loved her.
But he hadn’t, and, like his steps over the fallen branches, he’d treaded carefully with her ever since, wanting to keep their relationship at least friendly for Charlie’s sake.
Mistake, he thought. He should have tried to win her back a long time ago. Renee the geek was the most interesting woman he’d ever met, with her SAR work, and her love of travel, and her ability to have fun. Not to mention that she was totally fearless in bed.
He’d played the field and pretended it didn’t matter so long as he got to spend time with Charlie. But no one measured up to Renee. Other women just seemed dull.
Ahead of him, Charlie said something about the cat and Renee muttered “Damned feline” under her breath. He smiled again. Despite the snowstorm, the cold, his aching arm, and the weight of the coiled rope in his hand, he’d never been happier.
He’d been there for them. He’d done it right this time.
Wood splintered behind them.
“Faster, Charlie!” Renee yelled.
Daz instinctively put up a hand, as if it could stop a heavy tree branch. Several feet behind them, a huge white birch hit the ground.
Charlie froze. Renee skidded to a halt.
“It’s gonna hit me!” he yelled.
This was no time to freeze up and panic. “Nah, it’s already down.” Daz scooped Charlie up, careful to avoid the cat lump. “Want a ride?”
“Sure!” All the fear was gone from his son’s voice.
Daz shifted Charlie to his back. His son wrapped his legs tight around Daz’s waist.
“Lead the way, Renee.”
“Eat my dust.”
The joke was definitely for Charlie’s benefit because her face was far more serious.
Daz gave up looking around and concentrated on keeping Renee and the dogs in sight. The falling snow soaked through his pants. He wondered how the cat was getting on with Charlie bouncing around back there and hoped that he wouldn’t suddenly get clawed in the back of his head.
They broke out of the forest into the backyard. Renee slowed to wait for them. He waved her on. “Go, go, we’re right behind you.”
She ran, the dogs at her heels. He followed. “Hold tight, Charlie!”
He was breathing heavily by the time he skidded around the side of the house into the open garage. A cliff rescue plus a jog through a blizzard was plenty to get his heart pumping, even more than his workout this morning.
Gasping out breaths, Daz slid Charlie off his back. His son instantly ran over to his mother for a hug. Daz felt like doing the same. Renee released Charlie and ordered him over to the safety of the entrance to the house.
“Daz, move away from the garage door so I can close it,” Renee said.
“We could all load up in the van and head out. That’d be safest, and I could take us to a place immune to falling trees and power outages.”
“You want to drive in this storm?” She shook her head, throwing off bits of snow that clung to her hat. “No way.”
She was right. Too late for his idea of them holing up at the Institute. Damn. “Okay, you’re right. But hold off on the door and let me get my stuff from the van!”
He ran back out into the storm, yanked open the van’s back door, grabbed one duffel stuffed with a change of clothing and another duffel with assorted emergency supplies, slammed the door shut and ran into the garage.
The second he reached the garage bay, a thunderous crack echoed behind him.
Daz turned. Holy shit. An enormous oak tree was slowly tipping over, pulled sideways out of the ground by the weight of the snow on its branches. Wood creaked. Dirt and snow around the roots spit and scattered, pushed aside by the monstrous roots coming out of the ground.
The entire thing was headed straight for his van, right where he’d been standing.
“Daz, back away! I have to close the door right now!”
He backpedaled. The automatic door came down far too slowly for his comfort. Wet leaves thudded onto the roof of the van. Wood splintered in great cracks and creaks. Through the clear panels of the now closed door, Daz watched, transfixed.
Metal crunched as the tree slammed into the roof of the van. The windshield glass shattered outward, and its shards splatted against the garage door, making a metallic ping. Daz flinched and backed up farther to where Renee and Charlie stood. He dropped t
he duffels and reached back blindly for Renee’s hand. She took it, gripping him hard even through their gloves.
With one last heave, the tree settled. The van was basically cut in half, the middle flat against the driveway.
“Whoa,” Charlie said into the silence.
“Yeah.” Close, damn close. He should never have taken the time to grab his duffels. “Guess I’m not going anywhere for a while. Thanks for the save, Renee.”
“Sure, no problem.” She squeezed his hand once and let go. But her voice shook, giving the lie to her casual words. Hell, all of him was shaky. His giddiness from the rescue was gone, replaced by the realization that they’d cheated death today and maybe the danger still wasn’t over.
“Are there more trees that size around here?” he asked.
“No. I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “That was the biggest one near the house.”
“Good.” He caught her gaze. They were all lucky to be alive. He swallowed to clear his throat, not sure exactly what to say but knowing he should say something.
The dogs picked that moment to shake themselves furiously, ridding their coats of the snow and ice.
“Hey, watch it!” Daz said as a chunk of snow splashed his already wet pants.
Charlie giggled as the dogs shook snow onto him.
Renee tugged off her soaked hat, shook it, and laughed. “I wish I could get dry like that.” She stomped her boots, knocking off the snow. “Whew. Let’s go inside where it’s warm.”
Charlie imitated his mother’s stomping, then sat down on the steps that led up to the interior door and unzipped his jacket. Finally, the lump moved. The cat’s face poked out, alert.
It was a pretty cat with dark gray stripes against darker fur with gray eyes. It stared at them with an unreadable feline expression.
“That’s a good boy, Odin.” Charlie scratched one of the cat’s ears.
“How do you know the cat’s a boy?” Daz asked.
“He told me.”
Renee rolled her eyes. “Finish getting off your gear, Charlie.”
Daz took off his gloves, brushed the snow from his hair and shoulders and looked for somewhere to put the coiled line.
“There’s just enough room on the work bench,” Renee said, answering his unspoken question. She pointed to a half-cleared table in the back. Flashlights, water and cans of food took up most of it.
Phoenix Inheritance Page 4
