High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) (36 page)

Cade cleared his throat. “So she’s got to be near here somewhere.”

Jason looked at the pine bough in his hands again. Then gave another piercing whistle and waved over the group of men still waiting on the road.

As they all came to a stop, Jason held up the branch for everyone’s inspection. “We’re looking for the pine tree this branch came off. That’s the best place to start searching. Everyone spread out and let’s find that tree.”

Five minutes later Jason rounded a bend on the wildlife trail at the base of the hill and saw a pine tree just ahead, near the section of cliff wall. Heart thundering, he kicked his horse into a faster trot and hurried toward it. He spied the broken branch on the tree before he’d even slid from the saddle. Leaping down, he matched the broken ends together with trembling fingers.

It fit. This was the tree.

He spun in a circle looking for Nicki, even as he let loose with another whistle to signal Rocky, Cade, and the others. His horse shied and sidestepped, bobbing its head in protest of the loud sound. Jason put a hand on its neck to calm it, then led it to the tree and wrapped the reins around a low branch.

Rocky and Sheriff Watts rode into view.

“I found it!” Jason called. “She’s got to be near here somewhere!”
Dear God, please let her be all right
.

Rocky stepped up beside him. Sheriff Watts kept all the others back until Rocky determined if there were any tracks.

Jason’s hands were trembling like they had when he used to drink, so he shoved them deep into his pockets and studied Rocky intently.

Rocky scanned the ground.

Jason forced himself to study the area. There was not much here in the way of hiding places. Just juniper-covered hills, with tumbleweed-filled valleys. He looked at the pine tree. Peered up into its branches. Nothing.

A thought occurred, and he swallowed hard. “What if he buried her?” He kicked a stone violently. “Why didn’t I keep a better eye on her?”

Rocky laid a hand on his shoulder. “He wouldn’t have had time to bury her. Besides, I don’t see any evidence of that, do you?”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I don’t see her around here either. Just Russian thistle.” He gestured to the mangled pile of tumbleweeds in a heap at the base of the cliff. “And sagebrush.” He stretched a hand toward the hills.

“We’ll find her, Jason.”

“I just hope it’s not too late when we do.”

“Then stop hoping and get to praying.” Rocky squeezed his shoulder. “That’s what Gram would tell you.”

Jason’s countenance softened. “Been doing that, too.”

Sheriff Watts approached. “Find anything?”

Rocky shook his head and stepped away from Jason, folding his arms across his chest. “Winds have been gusting a little. When that happens a brushed trail disappears pretty fast.”

As if to prove the truth of his statement, a tumbleweed rolled by, followed by a stiff wind. The pile of tumbleweeds at the base of the cliff shifted. One fell away from the tangle and rolled down the game trail.

Something tugged at Jason’s consciousness for attention and he paused, having learned long ago, that when tracking a criminal, the smallest details can be what give them away. He turned to study the pile of tumbleweeds heaped against the base of the cliff.

They just didn’t look right, somehow, the way they were all stacked on top of each other.

His heart began to hammer like a blacksmith.

He took two swift strides and began tossing them aside like a man gone mad, ignoring the sharp barbed thorns that sank into his fingers.

The mouth of a small low cave appeared and elation bubbled up, but he didn’t let himself react. This could be nothing. Simply some tumbleweeds that had piled up of their own volition against the cliff.

Then he saw the marks just inside the opening of the cave and his hope disappeared. He sank to his knees. “I think I found her.” The words were a choked rasp. He bent down and peered deep into the cavern as Rocky, Cade, and Watts stepped up behind him.

Dear Jesus
.

He cleared his throat. “The floor angles down steeply. I can’t see her.

We’re going to need some rope and a torch.”

Nicki heard a faint sound above her. Far away and muted. She lifted her head so that both ears were free to listen. The rush of sound all around her made it hard to distinguish any other sounds, but she thought she could hear men’s voices.

“I’m here,” she tried to yell. But her mouth was so dry only a rasp came out. She closed her mouth and swallowed, moistening her throat. “I’m here!” Louder this time, but loud enough?

A thought occurred. What if it was William coming back to finish the job?A low moan escaped and she pressed her face into the ground beneath her. Her whole body trembled, and she forced herself to whisper the psalm.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

“Nicki?
Nicki…Nicki...Nicki...
”

Someone called and she lifted her head. Her name echoed around the chamber, bouncing down to her from several directions. She could not distinguish the voice other than it was male.

Rocks trickled past her, bouncing and pinging as they cascaded toward her. She closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek to the ground, willing down her pounding heart. She could do nothing but trust in Jesus now. If Jesus wanted her on this earth, He would save her. If not, then she knew that it was for the best. Sawyer was in His hands now.

“Nicki?”

The voice was louder now, and it sounded like Jason.

Joy trilled through her heart. He had come for her! A faint orange glow dusted the air above her head. “I’m here!” she called.

“Oh, thank You, Jesus!”

More rocks cascaded past her head, and now she could see the flame glowing at the end of a torch. Shadows shifted on the walls, eerily swaying this way and that.

“She’s down here! Let down more rope!”

She sighed in relief. Soon she would be free of these bonds, and they could fix her arm. More scrabbling and she could feel the vibrations of his movement in the floor under her cheek now.

Jason sucked in a sharp breath. “Nicki, I’m coming! Don’t move!” A strange note tinged the edge of his voice, one she’d never heard him use before.

He was right there, his boots right above her head as he lay sprawled out on the cave floor, a halo of light emanating from the torch in one hand, his other firmly clasping a rope. His face was in shadow.

Oh, how she longed to see his face. To trace the stubble along his jaw. To lose herself in the depths of his blue, blue eyes. To feel his lips pressed to hers with
life
coursing between them. “Jason.” She tried to scoot up closer to him but cried out when her shoulder protested, and she slid a little further down into the cavern.

“Nicki!” Terror laced Jason’s voice. “Honey, don’t move. You can’t move!” A metallic prickle of fear started in the back of her throat and danced toward the tip of her tongue. She lifted her head and licked her lips, glancing back.

Behind her the floor of the cave gave way to a gaping, black canyon. She was only inches from the edge!

Terror sizzled through her and she pressed her face back to the ground, wishing she hadn’t just seen that.

Jason called up to where the others held the rope. “More rope!”

“That’s all we got,” came back the faint call.

Jason huffed a breath of impatience and turned back to evaluate his options.
Okay Lord, what now?

He studied the scene below him in the flickering light of his torch. Somewhere far below he could hear the rush of an underground river. Above him, sharp spears of pointed rock hung from the ceiling. Some had grown so far down as to meet the ground and formed a pillar of sorts.

Fear thrummed through his chest as he noted just how close she was to the edge. One more slip on the shale and she would go over for sure. Nicki was mere inches from falling to her death.

He moved his torch so he could study how best to pull her up. Her hands and feet were bound and then tied to each other behind her so that her legs, bent at the knees, could not be straightened. One shoulder was oddly misshapen, and his stomach curled. “Nicki, it’s really important that you don’t move, Honey. Don’t even nod or lift your head, just answer quietly. Your shoulder’s hurt, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she answered softly.

Assessing the situation, he only had one option. He propped the torch against a rock to one side of the cavern and worked his way far enough up the rope so that he could form a slip knot. Kicking off one boot, he slid his foot into the loop and cinched it tight around his ankle. The last thing he needed was his boot slipping off just as he was about to pull her to safety. Flipping over on his stomach he crawled down the incline toward Nicki once again.

A tremor buzzed through his body. He just wanted to have her in the comfort of his arms, safe.

He felt the rope go taut and stretched his body full length, reaching down as far as his arms could go. His fingers grazed the top of her head. The rope cut into his ankle.

Frustration zinged through him. “It’s okay, Nicki. I’m going to get you out of here. Everything’s going to be all right.”

He stretched again and bumped the torch. It toppled and bounced toward Nicki’s face.

Instinctively Nicki jerked away from the flame. She started to slide.

“No!” Jason lunged for her.

William stared down at the newspaper lying on his table at home. One of his hands must have bought it in town and left it here for him to read. Arms stiff, he leaned heavily on clenched fists planted on either side of the article. Tom’s wife was dead. He felt a curious mix of dread and jubilation at the news.

Jubilation, because Tom would be suffering now, and it was about time the man felt some torment.

Dread, because he now had other problems to tie up. The Association had to have been behind this. And if they were going after Tom…

He slammed a fist into the table. Just when he thought he had things back under control! Would they be coming for him next? Or would Tom himself come for him?

At that instant the window next to him shattered. The first bullet hit the wall beside his head with a strange
thwap
.

He turned and looked at the hole. For one moment his heart stopped, and then he was somersaulting across the tiles toward the entry, away from the windows.

A second bullet splintered the logs just behind him and above his head.

He grabbed his rifle resting in the corner and pushed his back to the log wall beside the door. He pressed his head against the swell of a log, and clutched the rifle, chest heaving, mouth dry.

So it had come to this. He had failed, and now his payment for failure loomed on the horizon.

“I know you’re in there, William!”

It was Roland. William cursed the fact that all his hands were branding in the south pasture today. Even Hank, his cook, had gone since it was a sun-up to sun-down process.

So he was here alone. Trying to think his way back to life.

The scent of smoke spiked his heart rate. “No, no, no, no. Come on! Think!” He drummed his fingers on the barrel of the rifle. Tom and probably an accomplice or two would be waiting for him if he tried to go out the door or one of the windows. Burn to death in the house? Or get shot trying to escape the flames?

“I’m not gonna shoot ya! Come on out.” Roland called. “Just take this as a warning, so to speak. You got work to do!”

William ground his teeth. He wasn’t an idiot.

Tom was silent for a few moments, then, “You ever wonder what that little girl felt just before she left this earth? You don’t have to find out. Just come on out. I want to talk to you.”

William cursed under his breath. Where was his voice coming from? The crackle and hiss of hungry flames obscured the direction of the voice. Smoke stabbed his nostrils. His eyes started to smart and water. He glanced to his left and crawled toward the window, rifle clutched in one hand. There was a steep, shale hill on the east side of the house, making it the least likely place for Roland to be waiting.