How to Knit a Love Song

by Rachael Herron

  She took off her shoes—she’d always been better at climbing in her bare feet—and started up the trunk.

  The hardest part was the first bit—jumping up to grab the lowest branch, swinging her feet up onto it at the trunk. But it got easier after that, as if her body remembered just what to do, how to lean to the next branch, to trust it would hold her weight. In what felt like no time, she had scaled her way to the top of the tree, to the highest limb that she had determined would have the best, most unimpeded view.

  And there, down and to her right as the crow flew, were the redwood trees.

  Thank God, she knew which way to go. She breathed a sigh of relief and started climbing down.

  She slipped.

  Her foot skidded off the branch she stood on. Bark peeled off in strips. Both hands tightened around the limb she was holding on to, but she couldn’t balance herself, and then she was hanging on to the limb with both hands, her feet flailing below her. She couldn’t reach with her feet the branches closest to her—all were just a few inches too far in front or behind her. She couldn’t fall—there was a limb below her that she’d break something on if she fell, not to mention the fact that the ground was still ten feet below that.

  She tried to bring her foot back up on the branch that she’d slipped off, but the little jump she’d made had been too much, and the branch broke under her weight, dropping to the ground.

  Now she was dangling. Abgail was going to have to fall, but she had to do her best to avoid the limb directly below her. Her heart was racing, and she threw her fear into motion—swinging with all her strength, as she had on the jungle gym as a child. As her legs flew out far enough, she gave a high scream and let herself sail.

  It was a split-second’s relief as she cleared the branch below, and then she was hitting the ground, letting her knees bend as she hit, going down on her side, and rolling, rolling, until she came to a painful stop.

  Abigail lay on her back, looking up at the blue sky through the oak leaves, taking assessment.

  Her neck wasn’t broken; that was good. Her spine appeared to be intact. Her hands were skinned from clutching the branch, but she could wiggle her fingers.

  The part she really didn’t want to think about was her left foot.

  She moves her toes and gasped. Well, at least she could control them. But she couldn’t bend the ankle at all, and sitting up slowly, she reached for her foot.

  It wasn’t at a funny angle, and she could press the bones with her fingers although she gasped from the pain. It was most likely a good old-fashioned ankle sprain.

  But she was really damn far from the house now.

  She stood, using her right leg and foot, placing no weight on her left, and took a step, placing the slightest bit of pressure on her left ankle.

  She almost wept with the instant rush of pain. The shock of it was already wearing off, and the throbbing was moving in.

  But she could handle it. She was strong. She was tough. She had endured worse than this before.

  She took another few steps.

  No, she was wrong. This was the worst pain she’d ever felt. She sat for a moment and let the sharpness of it subside to a dull thudding, and then stood again.

  She wasn’t going to make it.

  Thank God Janet was with Tom. That made it all so much simpler. She got out her cell phone; four bars of reception, even up here. God bless technology.

  “Darling!” Janet answered on the first ring. “I’m sorry we’re still out, do you want us to bring you back a doggie bag?”

  “I need help. I’ve hurt myself, up in the hills above the ranch. I need to be picked up—I need Tom to drive up here or something and get me.” She could barely keep the sob out of her voice. She would not cry.

  Abigail heard a shuffling noise and then Tom was on the line.

  “You’re hurt?” His voice was tinny in her ear. “How bad? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

  “No, I think it’s just a bad sprain, but I can’t walk on it.”

  “Are you sure? We could get the air ambulance started your way…”

  “A what? Do you mean a helicopter? No way in hell. Just come get me, can’t you?”

  “Where are you, exactly?”

  “Um. I’m above the ranch.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I climbed a tree because I was lost, and all I can tell you is that if you leave the back kitchen door and climb straight up from the house into the trees, I’m somewhere in there.”

  “Don’t suppose you have any better description?”

  “I’m on the top of one of the rises. A lot of oak. Less eucalyptus on this hill than the others.”

  “All right. I’m too far away, but I’ll call Cade and send him.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t you worry. He’ll find you.”

  Tom dropped the line, leaving her phone quiet and dark.

  God, if there was any way now she could get up and hobble, even hop out of here, she would. But every time the ankle moved, even the slightest bit, she felt queasy and the pain went straight to the top of her head.

  Two minutes later, her cell rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but she knew who it was.

  “No, I don’t know where I am.”

  “Sounds pretty stupid to me. How did you manage this one?”

  “Sheer talent.”

  “Tell me how to find you.”

  “Leave the house through the kitchen door, and go out in the hills. Go straight up from there.”

  “Straight up how? North? Northwest? Northeast?”

  “Oh, let me get a compass. Hang on for a really long time while I make one from these leaves.”

  “Okay, smart-ass. Tom said you’re on the top of a rise?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are there any hills higher than yours?”

  “I’m below the trees right now. I can’t see.”

  “But when you climbed the tree, bring it back into your mind. Was there anything around you?”

  “Trees. Trees were around me. Oh, yeah, I passed a red stump. So I guess I’m not lost.”

  “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? Think about it. Did you see a radio tower? Mowry’s cell site? Any redwoods?”

  She was quiet while she tried to remember. “I could see the redwoods by the house. And I think, to my left, there were a couple more, very tall, maybe a quarter mile away. And to my right, kind of between the ranch and the cut in the hills where you can see the ocean, I could see a metal tower, but I’m not sure if it was radio or cell.”

  “Tall and triangular?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m coming. Sit tight.”

  With little else she could do, Abigail scooted backwards until she could rest her back against the offending tree. She stuck her tongue out at it and felt immediately stupid. She was glad no one could see her.

  No one could see her and she guessed it was all right if she had a little cry. Just a quick one.

  She let the tears come, hot and fast. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d only been looking for her lost alpaca, and climbing the tree had been a good idea. Coming down was the hard part, that was all. That hadn’t really figured into her thought processes while going up.

  After what felt like four hours but was probably more like only one, Abigail heard a very faraway voice calling her name.

  “Here!” she yelled with all her lungs. “I’m here!”

  Cade’s voice yelling her name got closer and closer.

  Abigail felt crazy with relief—she was saved!—and she had never wanted more to be anyplace else. Anyplace that wasn’t here, where she wouldn’t be waiting for rescue from a cowboy who hated her. She strained her ears for the sound of his truck approaching, now that he knew where she was, but she couldn’t hear any kind of engine, except for a whine of a small plane, very far overhead.

  Crash, crackle. The rustling that she’d thought she heard was getting closer. “Here! Over here!�
� she yelled.

  He couldn’t have…could he?

  Oh, yes, he had. The rustling she heard was almost upon her, coming up from behind, and then she could see them both—Cade on his horse.

  He’d come on horseback to rescue her. The irony of it wasn’t wasted on her. Cade knew it, too—the sour look on his face confirmed that he felt the same way.

  “Thanks for stopping by,” she said.

  “Wasn’t doing much else today anyway. Only running a sheep ranch without any help because my foreman left for lunch.” Cade drew the horse up close to her. “Tom doesn’t leave for lunch.”

  Abigail was briefly terrified of the huge beast above her, even though she knew it was stupid to be scared.

  “He won’t—he won’t step on me, will he?” She wanted to draw her legs out of the way, but she was loath to move them at all. The pain was bad enough when it wasn’t white-hot with motion.

  Cade only rolled his eyes. He swung off and landed almost at her feet. “Will you be able to get up on the horse?”

  “Of course.”

  “You do know how to ride, don’t you?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, no, I don’t,” she admitted. “But it can’t be that hard, right?”

  “I’m going to have to ride with you, then.”

  “Both of us up there? I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t know how to ride.”

  “I can figure it out.”

  “And I’m not risking my best horse to your poor judgment. Can you stand at all? Is it just the one ankle, or do you have more injuries you didn’t tell Tom about?”

  “Just the one, and I can stand by myself.” Why this stupid need to impress him? She wanted to appear strong.

  So she stood, quickly and firmly, using her arms braced behind her on the tree trunk, placing weight only on her good leg, using her thigh muscles to go straight up. So far so good.

  Then her left foot brushed against the ground. She could actually feel herself going pale, the blood draining out of her face, and she slumped for a second while she tried to take a shallow breath around the pain.

  He was next to her in that short second, his arms around her, holding her up.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “I don’t need your help.”

  He tightened his grasp on her, raising one arm and placing it over his neck. “You do, if only to get on the damn horse. Shut up and do what I tell you.”

  Abigail opened her mouth to retort, but realized he was right. She’d never get on that horse without his help, and she’d never get off this hill without that horse.

  “Now, hop a little bit over here.” He held her with one arm and steadied the horse with the other.

  “I have no idea how to get up there,” she said.

  “I’ll throw you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Cade’s hands went to her waist. He lifted her up and twisted her so that her good leg went over the horse. At the end of the same motion, he caught her bad leg at the knee, stopping its motion. He caught the leg at the calf, and lowered it to the side of the horse.

  She gasped.

  “I know that hurt. But it would have been worse otherwise.”

  “I know.” She should thank him, but she couldn’t speak through the pain.

  “This might be bad, too, but only for a minute, and then we’ll get you out of here. Scoot forward if you can, and hang on.”

  Hang onto what? The reins? She didn’t understand their configuration. Did one rein mean go and the other stop? The mane? That couldn’t be right. She was sure she’d seen people ride like that, but that had been in the movies, and this didn’t feel like a movie beneath her. It felt like a massive warm rock. Her legs straddled it, and her fingers dug tight against the muscles of the horse as Cade slung himself up and behind her.

  She gasped. Something had hit her foot, possibly Cade’s boot, and she saw stars for a moment. His arms came around her, tightly.

  “I’m sorry. I tried not to do that. Okay, hold your legs out in front of the stirrups, and I’ll try to avoid joggling you as much as I can. It might be a little bumpy, though.”

  “Aren’t you going to give me a bullet to bite on?” she asked, her voice strained.

  He laughed, and she felt the laughter in her chest. It was more of a bark than a laugh—as if he hadn’t expected it to happen. Then he cleared his throat.

  “What the hell fool thing did you think you were doing all the way up here? Taking a hike?”

  “Yeah, that was it.” She turned her head to the side to talk to him, but he spoke right in her ear.

  “Bring your trail mix? Next time bring a map, would you? It was damned hard to find you—I’ve been calling your name up here for almost an hour. I went from ridge to ridge before I got the right one.”

  “I was looking for stupid Merino.”

  “What?”

  “The male alpaca. He got out.”

  “Mort said he always was good at that.”

  “Alpacas aren’t supposed to be good at escape.”

  “The exception to the rule, I suppose. Why did you think he’d have come all the way up here?”

  “I followed his tracks.”

  She waited for the inevitable laugh. She was not disappointed.

  “Alpaca tracks? Up here? Lady, even I couldn’t do that, and I’ve been practicing since I was a boy. They’re too light, hardly weigh a thing, and these oak leaves move so quickly in the breeze. Maybe in mud or something, but I can’t believe you followed him up here. Can’t believe he was ever up here at all.”

  “I think I was doing okay. I really think I was following him.”

  “Sure. Go ahead and think that.”

  They rode out of a copse and onto a hillside. Far below them Abigail could see the house, the barn, the cottage, the ocean gleaming in the far distance. “Look how pretty that is,” said Abigail.

  Abigail could hear the smile in his voice. “The prettiest sight in the whole wide world.”

  Abigail shifted her hips so that she could keep her ankle forward, away from his booted foot, and in the process, she ended up scooting her rear end against him. He’d been starting to say something else, but he stopped, abruptly.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” But it was suddenly quite clear to Abigail what the problem was. She felt something behind her, something that wasn’t his jeans. He was hard against her. Her mouth went dry.

  It would happen to anyone, she thought. Anyone put together like this, on a horse that was swaying, their two bodies rubbing…It was natural.

  But her body was reacting, too, and she couldn’t blame it on being a man.

  Could she blame it on the horse thing? She wasn’t used to sitting on a moving object like this…. But no, she knew exactly what was causing her to heat up like this, what was causing the blood in her veins to throb this hard. His arms around her, his maleness behind her, his lips and voice so close to her ear.

  She tried to shift forward, out of his way, but she kicked her foot the wrong way, and winced. He caught the motion and moved a hand to her waist.

  He pulled her back, harder against him.

  “We have to keep you motionless, or it’ll hurt more later,” he said, so close that it sent a shiver down her spine.

  She flushed red with embarrassment—it was her proximity, after all, she assumed, that was making him react like this. She wished she could move away, but at the same time, she didn’t want to move a muscle.

  Cade’s hand had stayed on the curve of her waist after he’d settled her against him. It rested gently at her hip, and then it moved slightly so that the tips of his fingers brushed lightly against her side through her shirt.

  Was he doing that on purpose?

  She couldn’t feel her ankle anymore. There was nothing in her mind except for thoughts of what he felt like behind her.

  Then he tugged the bottom of her shi
rt out of her jeans and slipped his hand inside, resting it back at the curve of her waist.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” he murmured. “You’ll be better anchored this way. Don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  She shook her head. Did his lips brush her cheek? She turned her head the same direction again and said, “Good idea.”

  What was this? Didn’t he still hate her because of this morning?

  Then she let her head drop back against his shoulder, and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to figure it out, not right now.

  His hand barely touched her skin, fingers skimming the sensitive curves, sliding forward so that his fingers moved around her bellybutton and then back to her side. It was an agony of sensitivity. She wasn’t ticklish, but she shivered.

  As his hand played up her side, moving ever so slowly toward her breast, she pressed even harder back into him. His hand went higher, pushing her bra up, skimming her nipple with one finger.

  He kept his hand moving on her skin, pinching and lightly twisting her nipple. She was as aroused as if he had his fingers inside her instead of on her breast. Her eyes were shut tight, and his breathing was as uneven as hers in her ear.

  “Shit.” His hand jerked out from under her shirt. He sat up straight and held the reins with both hands in front of her, and she had to follow suit. Her eyes flew open, and she saw that not only were they almost at the barn, which surprisingly dismayed her, but that Janet and Tom were just getting out of Tom’s truck.

  “The prodigal returns,” said Cade, loud enough for Tom to hear as he led the horse up next to the truck.

  “I don’t get a lunch break? Not allowed? I’ll alert my union.”

  Janet laughed, a high peal of humor that made Tom’s eyes light up. He was smitten, it was clear. Men often were.

  But then Janet’s expression changed, going from high flirt to nothing but concern.

  “Sweetheart, how are you? But what? How? Falling out of a tree?”

  “We have to get you to a doctor,” said Tom.

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  They all shook their heads in unison, and Janet said, “We’ll all go with you. We’re off! It’s an adventure. I mean, of course, darling, this is hell for you. But for us, we’ll fete ourselves as heroes, with Cade being the hero of the day. Of the year! Now get her off that horse, cowboy, so I can give you a kiss for valor.”