Return to Marker Ranch (23 page)

“I know you will.” It was a flawed vote of confidence. Mandy's voice was shaking, and she looked white as a sheet. Wade knew it wasn't just fear for her sister that had her falling apart. Her mom had died on that trail.

He opened the trailer door and backed JM out. He set down the bucket of grain JM hadn't had the chance to finish in the stall, and the horse ate while Wade opened a side compartment and grabbed the saddle and the thick pad. He settled them carefully over JM's back, taking his time to make sure his horse would be comfortable.

When the cinch was tight, Mandy handed him a pair of stuffed saddlebags. “There's a chestnut in the corral just on the other side of the barn. His name is Teton. The saddle is on the corral fence.”

Wade nodded, taking the halter and going over to swipe a handful of grain from JM's bucket. He jogged around the barn. Teton was a big guy, almost sixteen hands high, perfect for this situation. He could carry a bunch of the gear out and bring Lori back home again.
I hope.
Wade shoved the words away before they sickened him.

Teton snuffed up the grain while Wade slid his halter on. He had the chestnut saddled by the time Mandy came back with the rest of the supplies. They worked in silence, tying on the last of the saddle bags.

Wade swung up on JM, and Mandy handed him Teton's lead rope. “I'll bring her back, Mandy. But it's getting late. I've only got a couple hours of daylight left, so I probably can't get her home tonight. Call the sheriff and tell him to have search and rescue head up first thing in the morning in case I need help with her.”

“Can you help her? If she's hurt?”

“Until a few months ago, I was an army ranger. We're trained for pretty much anything. I can do this.” God, he hoped so. The anxiety inside was eating at him, fraying his composure. It would be so easy to lose it. To rage at whatever twist of fate had gotten Lori into trouble. But he wouldn't allow the fear and anger out, no matter how hard it burned. He could control it. He just had to use what he'd learned from his counselor the past few weeks. He took a deep breath like he'd been taught, and let it out. He could do this. He had to.

He turned JM toward the mountains, giving Mandy a quick wave. Teton trotted along next to them through the ranch and along the dirt track that would lead them out of the ranch. He passed Lori's well, dry now thanks to him, and stepped the horses carefully over the irrigation lines they'd run from his well to her land.

Water sharing. It had seemed so complicated at the time, but he'd give a lot to have that be their only problem now.

* * *

A
DULL
THROBBING
pain filtered in through the darkness. Awareness flickered, disappeared into blackness. Flickered again. Her head hurt.
Where...?
Lori tried to organize her thoughts, but they kept floating out into the blackness again. Was it dark? Were her eyes open?

She forced her mind back from the darkness.
Focus on just one thing. Open your eyes.
She found the muscles eventually and opened her eyes, surprised to see that it was still light out. Not bright, though. Evening. Or early morning. She could see dirt, and a rock right in front of her. It hurt to look. She closed her eyes. The blackness came back and she welcomed it.

A sound penetrated her oblivion. Someone was shouting. Or barking. There was an echo in her brain. Or was it in the mountains? She opened her eyes again. It was her name.
Lori.
Someone was yelling “Lori.”

She lifted her head, and her forehead throbbed. She tried to bring her hand up to touch it and gasped at the stabbing pain in her wrist. Broken for sure.

She had to yell back, had to be strong and get help. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to roll onto her side. It hurt. But at least her mouth wasn't in the dirt anymore. “I'm here,” she tried to call, but it came out as a whimper. She took a breath that hurt going in and tried again. “Here!”

The sound bounced off the walls of the canyon.
That's right.
She'd slid down the slope. Over a cliff. Was she at the bottom?

She heard frantic barking. Snack? She'd had him with her. Pushed him away from Dakota. The last thing she remembered.

“Lori, I heard you! Where are you?” That deep voice.
Wade.
A rush of relief had her eyes tearing up. No, she couldn't lose it. She had to stay strong and calm.

She sucked in another breath and it was a little easier this time, thank goodness. Ribs bruised, but maybe not broken. “Down the scree slope!” She had to stop and catch her breath before she could shout again. “Over the cliff!”

“Are you hurt?”

“Yeah.” Every time she yelled, her ribs radiated pain.

“I'm going to lower some gear before I come down there. Is there space for it?”

She raised her head out of the dirt a few inches. She was on a sizeable ledge. “Twenty feet wide. Only ten deep,” she yelled up to the sky above.
Ouch.

“Got it. Don't move.”

Don't move.
Ha. Not really a problem. Could she even move her legs? She tried, and her right ankle shot pain. Broken?

She closed her eyes and was just getting comfortable in the blackness again when a pebble hit her on the forehead. Dirt followed, raining down. “Oh, ugh.” She heaved herself out of the way, spitting out dust as a large bundle hit the ground next to her.

“Do you have it?” Wade called. “Just pull the tail end of the rope. It should untie easily.”

Lori used her right hand, the only one working at the moment, and did as he said. As the rope came loose, the wool blanket wrapped around the bundle opened, and all kinds of gear spilled out. Tarps, sleeping bags, clothes and a small duffel bag. An overwhelming wave of gratitude washed over her. He'd found her. She wouldn't make dying out here a family tradition. She closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer of thanks, trying to block out the pain.

Wade was coming. And he knew what to do. It was going to be okay.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

W
ADE
WIPED
THE
sweat out of his eyes. How could he be sweating? It was about thirty degrees out and the temperature was dropping with every inch the sun slid down to the horizon.

But he knew the answer. It was always the same answer these days. Stress. PTSD. His own mind betraying him.

He needed to stay in reality. Keep the facts in front of him. Lori was okay, thank God, but she needed help. He had really good supplies thanks to Mandy. He'd done mountain rescues before, so he knew how to help her. He could do this.

Plus, he had Snack to offer some comfort. The terrier had been here when he rode up, sitting on the edge of the trail and looking intently down the slope to the cliff. When he saw Wade he went nuts, barking like crazy and jumping so high Wade was afraid he'd be the next casualty over the edge. He'd cut a piece of rope and leashed him just in case, relieved to see that the dog appeared to be unhurt.

Wade walked over to the flat area on the opposite side of the trail where JM and Teton were grazing on a rough patch of dry grass. He pulled their saddles off and set them down in the trail where they'd be easy to spot. Just in case he couldn't get Lori back up again and needed a rescue.

Ideally the horses would stick around, but he was going to free them so they could get away from any predators. He was going over that damn cliff, and he wouldn't be here to protect them if they were hobbled.

He glanced around quickly. What else would he need? What had he wished for when his buddies had been hurt and dying around him out in the godforsaken mountains of Afghanistan?

He looked down at the dry dusty ground. It was like being back there. But he had to remember that this was different. No one had been hit by a shell. No one was firing at him. All he had to deal with was the mountains this time. And Lori was talking, which meant she wasn't dying.

Still, his blood felt uneasy in his veins. He brought his hand up behind his neck to ease the ache of knotted muscles there. He had to keep things in perspective. That's what his counselor kept telling him. His reactions were calibrated to the trauma he'd gone through. His nervous system tuned to life-and-death situations. His mind locked into memories of the cruelest and worst kind.

Next steps. Focus on next steps.
That's what they'd drummed into him during his training. What if she needed a stretcher of some kind? Or a splint? He needed wood. Grabbing the tools he'd thrown into a bag, he ran down the trail to a few spindly pines trying to push their way up through the rocky landscape. Using a small hatchet, he hacked at their trunks one by one until they fell. It took a few more minutes to strip away the branches. Then it was back to the rope, and he tied them on. He added the second set of saddlebags and the backpack with the first-aid supplies. And lowered them down to wherever the hell Lori was. He wished he could see her.

“Lori, can you pull the rope again?”

Silence.
Oh, damn, silence.
“Lori?” He called again. Nothing. Had she blacked out? Was she hurt a lot worse than he'd realized?

Working quickly, he tied his end of the rope around the base of a big tree across the trail so the supplies he'd sent down wouldn't tumble farther down the cliff. Then he pulled another coil of rope off his saddle. He needed to get down there fast.

He spotted Snack, sitting quietly where he'd been tied, watching his every move. He couldn't leave the dog here or he really would be a snack. He untied him, leaving the rope attached to his collar like a leash, and scooped him up. “It's a good thing you're so small, little guy.” Unzipping his parka, Wade loaded the terrier inside and zipped it back up again so just the dog's head was peeking out. “Gonna need you to stay really calm,” he told him. “No wiggling or freaking out. I haven't done this in a while. And I've never done it with a dog stuffed in my clothes.”

There was nothing more to do but get himself and Snack down the cliff. He tied one end of his rope to the tree, then emptied his mind of everything but his basic training.
Step over the rope. Bring it behind the leg, across the hip, over the opposite shoulder. Down across the back. Don't think, just do it.

He backed over the edge of the scree slope, leaning back, forcing himself to let the rope take his weight. It was counterintuitive and damn, he'd forgotten how much it hurt. The parka helped pad his back where the rope carried a lot of his weight. But his braking hand was gonna get some serious rope burn.

One step, then another down the treacherous scree, not trusting his feet on the sliding surface, trusting the rope, trusting his skill, trusting the hours of training and his experience. His heart pounded, but he kept up a steady dialogue with himself, just like his counselor had taught him. Yeah, it was scary, but he'd done this before. And bonus—it wasn't even dark yet. He had to keep it in perspective. This was easy. People did this for fun all the time.

Under his feet, the scree slope was turning into sheer cliff, and he winced. Lori had gone over this. He could see her now, lying crumpled on her side on a ledge. Thank God for that ledge. Otherwise she'd be at the bottom of the gorge below, dead for sure.

His heart hammered against the walls of his chest, and panic started to rise. Sweat coated his back, his stomach, and the wide skies around him seemed to close in. Snack shifted in his coat and whined. He didn't want to go over this cliff, either.

“Steady, Snack,” Wade cautioned. The dog was picking up on his anxiety. He had to keep it under control or the little guy might squirm right out of Wade's jacket. He took a deep breath and let it out.
Do what's in front of you. The rest is just noise. Just anxiety. Push it back slowly, calmly. It's unnecessary. Unimportant. Just noise.

His breathing calmed. His feet found purchase on the cliff edge, and he lowered himself easily. Butt down, boots on rock, brake hand searing hot and throbbing, but he was doing it. For Lori. For her ridiculous dog. He could be strong for them.

His feet hit solid rock below. He was on the ledge, wanting to kiss it with gratitude. He'd done it, PTSD and all. He'd stayed in control.

Making sure he had his balance, he unwound the rope from his body and unloaded Snack, tying the dog's rope to his belt loop so the excited animal wouldn't go too close to the edge. The terrier ran for his mistress, straight for her face as if checking for her breathing. When she didn't respond, he brought a paw up in consternation, looking back at Wade with wide eyes as if saying, “Do something.”

Wade scrambled to get the first aid backpack untied from the rope he'd lowered it on, then went down next to Lori, registering the cool, pale skin, the shallow breathing—the first signs of shock. Grabbing the blanket from under the pile of supplies he'd lowered down first, he covered her, then unrolled a sleeping bag and threw that over her, too.

He brushed the dirt off her face and searched through her matted hair for the wound there. It wasn't bleeding much now. He pulled out a neck brace, slid it under her and poured a little of his water over the wound. It ran red for a moment, but at least it took some of the dirt with it and allowed him to see that the cut wasn't bone deep. Good. Now to pray that there was no fracture under there.

She opened her eyes, looking up at him hazily. “Wade? You're here.”

“I sure am. Listen to me. You've had a bad fall. You've got a bump on your head. Don't move.”

One of her hands went up to feel the neck brace. “I'm okay. I can move. I already did, to get out of the way of all that stuff you dropped on me.”

“Sorry about that. I couldn't see where you were from up top.”

“It's okay. I'm just glad you're here.”

Snack whined and came around Wade to snuffle her face. “Snack? Did you fall, too?”

“He was up top when I got here,” Wade explained. “Waiting for you to come back up that cliff, I think. I had to bring him down in my jacket so he wouldn't be alone up there all night.”

She smiled as the little dog licked her cheek. “Thank you.”

The wind was picking up, and gray clouds were rolling in low. He had to get moving. It was dusk already and would be full dark soon. He lifted up the blanket and scanned down her body. No blood pooling anywhere. “What hurts?”

“My right ankle. And my other wrist. And I think I have some scrapes and bruises.”

Pain was good. Her spine was intact. “We'll start with your head and work our way down.”

“Sounds nice.” She gave him a half smile.

“Dirty jokes at a time like this?” He couldn't help but smile back.

“Hey, we might be out here for the night. Might as well have some humor.”

She tried to push herself up to sitting and grimaced.

He eased her back down. “No moving until I say so. You probably have a concussion.”

He cleaned her head wound a little more and placed a gauze bandage over it, wrapping more gauze around like a headband to hold it in place. Then he moved to her wrist. Broken, clearly, but no bones sticking out. He cut a few branches from the saplings he'd lowered and made her a splint. Her face glowed white in the dusk and she bit her lip, but she took the splinting like a champ. Man, she was tough.

And then the ankle. Sprained badly, as far as he could tell, though there could be a chipped bone in there somewhere. He wrapped it in an elastic bandage and made a splint to hold it steady, avoiding her ankle bone just in case.

At least she was more awake now. He rummaged in the first aid kit for the packet of drink mix he'd seen earlier and added it to one of the water bottles, shaking it up. He put the duffel bag against the rocks behind her and helped her lean on it to sit up. Her ribs were bruised for sure, but they didn't feel broken. “Drink this.” He put the water bottle in her good hand.

She drank deep. Then swallowed down the painkillers he offered. “Thank you. For coming. For bringing all this stuff. For climbing down here to hang out with me.”

“Hang out.” He grinned. “Literally. I have the rope burns to prove it.”

She reached for his hand and turned it over, palm up. And winced. “Ouch.”

“It was fun. It's been a while since I rappelled down a cliff.”

“How long since you climbed back up one?” she asked.

“About as long.” The light was almost gone. “We definitely have to sleep here tonight. I can't get you up the cliff and back down the mountain in the dark.”

“How did you get all this stuff up here?”

“JM. And I hauled a bunch of stuff on Teton, too. Both horses are loose at the top of the cliff. I figure either they'll stay here or head back to the ranch tonight, or JM will revert to his formerly wild ways and take Teton with him.”

“Sounds about right.” She smiled at him, and it was the most reassuring thing he'd seen.

“I have some food that Mandy packed. She's let the sheriff know to send up a rescue in the morning, so this cliff dwelling of yours isn't a permanent thing.”

“Oh, good. I thought it might suit, but the driveway was a little treacherous.”

He smiled. “Just a little.” He knew what she was doing. Joking to keep her fear away. And he appreciated it, because he wasn't much looking forward to spending the night on a cliff, either. Especially with the temperature dropping and the sky clouding up.

“I think we'll get some snow.”

“You've got to be kidding.” Lori studied the sky. “You know, I think you're right.”

“I'm gonna rig us a shelter with a few of these tarps.”

“You're a useful guy to have around, aren't you?”

He laughed bitterly. “It depends on what you want done. Build you a shelter on a cliff? A no-brainer. Take you on a date to the local bar? Not so useful.”

“Good thing I don't like bars much.”

“Good thing,” he agreed. He pulled out one of the tarps he'd brought and then grabbed rope and started threading it through the grommets. Soon he had the tarp tied to outcroppings in the cliff above them and anchored with rocks on the ledge. It was just a lean-to, but it should keep them fairly dry if it started snowing.

He felt something light and cold on his face. Correction:
when
it started snowing. As in now.