“Cathy, does that rock you’re laying on feel like it’s going to fall any minute? Can it hold us both?”
Another moment passed, and he saw her arm shift. “It feels sturdy. I think.”
That would have to do. The sooner he got the rope tied around her the better. “Don’t move. I’ll be down in a minute.”
When he had the ropes fastened the way he wanted them and his gloves back on, he sidled to the cliff, lay on his belly, and slid his legs over the edge. Even though heights had never bothered him, lowering himself into that great abyss took every bit of his willpower.
With his elbows still pressed into the hard ground above, and with his lower body dangling, his left foot found its first purchase in a crack on the rock face. Then his right located a groove a little lower. He kept steady tension on the rope that secured him to the tree, but with one hand holding that rope, it made it hard to grip the hand holds he found in the cliff. Still, he progressed one painful step at a time.
About halfway down, he glanced below to check on Cathleen. She still lay huddled where he’d last seen her, yet her head was turned so she could watch him. She was close enough now that he could see her mouth move. Praying? Hopefully she was praying enough for them both.
He had maybe fifteen more feet until he reached her perch. He could do this.
His gaze scanned the little ledge. It was wider than it had looked from above, with a small place for him to stand near where it joined the cliff face. His gaze drifted to the side of it—to the empty chasm of space that dropped for hundreds of feet. The white far below swam in his focus. If anything went wrong, neither of them would survive that drop. His arms trembled, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the dizziness.
But it was too late. His left hand slipped, losing its firm grip on the rock. His fingers clutched at the cliff, but they couldn’t find enough purchase to hold the weight of his body as it swung out. His right hand lost its hold, too. He clung tight to the rope, gripping with both hands as his body swung like a pendulum, dangling by only the strength of the cord.
Chapter Twenty-Four
REUBEN’S MIND BARELY registered the cry from below him as every muscle in his body strained to hold tight to the rope. He had to get down to that ledge. Solid ground.
Sliding his hands carefully down the cord, he lowered himself, one handhold after another. Slowly at first, but then faster as his arms began to quiver.
At last, something touched his ankle—Cathleen’s hand—and it guided his foot to an empty spot on the ledge. As his feet touched the solid foundation, he didn’t loosen his grip on the rope with both hands. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he could pry his fingers from it. But weakness threatened his shoulders, and he sank back against the cliff wall behind him.
“Reuben.” Cathleen shifted in front of him, and he looked down to assess their situation.
“Don’t move.” He had to get that rope tied around her, but his racing heart felt like it might beat out of his chest.
The rock beneath him felt sturdy enough, although the snow and ice made it slippery. It wasn’t perfectly flat, but sloped down on either side. So easy to slide off. They’d have to be careful.
He eased down to a crouch, keeping one hand tight around his securing line. At this point, he should retie it around himself so it wouldn’t let him drop any lower if he fell off the ledge. The gloves made it hard, so he jerked them off again. When he finally had his line tied so he could feel a little tension when he crouched, that small bit of security slowed the frantic pace of his chest by a fraction.
His gaze roamed Cathleen. She had been lying on her left side, but she’d shifted mostly onto her back to watch him. That left arm lay still in the snow. His focus wandered up to her face.
And that was nearly his undoing.
The strength and bravery that always shone there was almost overpowered by the glaze of pain. And fear too.
“How long have you been out here?” He brushed a hand across her forehead to feel for fever. He’d not even thought about hypothermia, but if she’d spent the night on this ledge, a broken arm might be the least of their worries.
“A few hours.” Her voice still wasn’t as strong as he’d like, but her words brought welcome relief.
He’d find out how she got here later. He needed to know about Bryan, too. But if the man had already met his fate down below, it would be better to question Cathleen once he had her on solid ground.
“I’m going to tie this rope around your waist, then pull you back up. Do you think you can handle that?”
Her chin tightened, and determination replaced a bit of the fear in her eyes. “Yes.”
Her voice was stronger with that word. Good.
A bark sounded from overhead, and Reuben glanced up. He’d told North to stay in the sleigh, but it sure sounded like the dog was right above them.
The bark sounded again. Twice. That animal never disobeyed, but maybe with all the excitement, he’d not been able to stay put.
Then a voice echoed from above that sent cold dread through his tense muscles. Mum.
“Quinn? Are you here?” Her quivering voice drifted from directly overhead. Not from the sleigh where he’d left her.
Cathleen gasped, drawing his gaze down to her. Her brown eyes rounded. “Is she next to the cliff?”
“It sounds like it. But I left her in the sleigh with North. I told her not to get out.” He could hear the panic in his own voice as his mind played through possible scenarios. Maybe if they were quiet, Mum wouldn’t come near the edge.
“Quinn?” A brush of snow floated into the air above them.
His chest clutched. “Mum! Get back from the edge of the cliff.”
“Quinn? Where are you?”
Dear, Lord. She was going to fall over the ledge. In one single, horrible moment, he might lose the last bit of family left to him in this world. God, stop her. Help, please.
“Mrs. Scott, can you hear me?” Cathleen’s voice held a strength it hadn’t had moments before. “Can you sit down and pet North for me? I think he’s upset. Sit down in the snow and we’ll sing Silent Night to him. All right?”
Silence for a long moment. Reuben strained to hear, but his heart galloped in his ears, blocking out any sounds.
At last, Mum spoke again. “Sit down?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sit down in the snow, and let’s sing a song for the dog.”
A shuffling sounded overhead. “All right. What do you want to sing, dear?”
Had she actually done it? While Cathleen started in on a shaky rendition of Silent Night, Reuben set to work.
Still lying on her back, Cathleen’s eyes tracked his progress as he carefully tied the rope around her waist. The thick fur of her coat would help cushion the burn of the cord, but he had to make sure it was tight enough.
She never slowed the song, and Mum’s shaky vibrato joined from above. He started to help Cathleen sit up, but the pained expression on her face stalled him. Why hadn’t he thought to bring something to wrap her arm? He couldn’t very well let it dangle while he raised her up the cliff side.
He slipped out of his coat, then peeled off his blue wool shirt. Good thing he’d worn this instead of his buckskin tunic today. This would be more pliable to tie around her. He pulled his coat back on, then folded the shirt into a sling.
She was just starting into the second verse of the song when he slipped a hand under her back and eased her into a sitting position. Even though he held her injured arm close to her body, her voice broke on the word shepherd as her face twisted in pain at the movement.
“I’m sorry, love.” His chest ached at her agony, but he had to keep moving. Had to get them back onto safe ground.
Her mouth twisted in a pinched smile, but her song never halted. This woman possessed a depth of strength he could only dream of.
From his position on her right side, he had to reach across to secure her left arm to her upper body. She leaned into him, and he gladly took her weight. He needed to check t
he break to see if it was a simple injury or if the bone protruded from her skin, but that would require removing her coat and cutting through the sleeve. With the slippery ice on the ledge, there was too much danger in staying here that long.
Finally, he had her arm secured. He checked the rope around her midsection again. It was tight, but with only one hand to hold onto the rope, it might put too much pressure on her thin little waist. He fastened another loop under her legs, almost like a swing.
Then he hunched low to look her in the eyes. “I’m going to hoist you up now. Just hold tight to this rope and let me do the work, all right?”
She gripped his arm, and her voice cracked again on the word Savior. For the first time, fear was the primary emotion in her eyes.
And it sliced through him.
But this was the only way he could see to get her to safety. He swallowed to force the lump from his throat. “Trust me, Cathleen. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.”
He swallowed again. He was a mere man. Not capable of controlling this situation in the way he wanted. It was going to take a stronger Power than him to keep her safe.
He met her gaze, pouring everything from his heart into that look. “God will take care of you, Cathleen. It’s up to Him.” Lord, please. Don’t prove me wrong.
Something calmed in her gaze then. And as she started into the third verse of Silent Night, she nodded, then released his arm and clutched tight to the rope with her good hand.
He found his gloves and slipped them back on. His mind sent a steady stream of prayers heavenward as he pulled on the free end of the rope that was attached to Cathleen and levered around the tree above. As his muscles strained, she lifted up off the ledge.
Her back stayed ramrod straight, and she clutched the rope tight to her chest as she dangled over the rock. But she didn’t squirm, didn’t cry out. Even kept up the song, although her voice faltered into a weak tone.
Foot by precious foot, he pulled her up.
Finally, finally… She reached the cliff edge high above him.
As her head disappeared over the corner, then her middle, and finally her feet, all strength seemed to slide out of him. Cathleen was safe. His body sagged in relief. If he hadn’t had a rope tied to his own waist, he may very well have gone off the side of his perch.
The singing stopped overhead, and he heard a few murmured words. Then Cathleen’s head peeked over the ledge. “Do you want me to pull you up?”
He almost laughed, but he didn’t quite have the strength for it. That waif of a woman with a broken arm thought she could pull him thirty feet up the side of a cliff? He waved her back. “No. Just take Mum away from the edge. I’ll be up shortly.”
Her worried expression before she disappeared from view was enough to renew his strength. He needed to end this whole ordeal and get her arm splinted. The pain had to be excruciating with the stress she’d been under. And he still hadn’t checked to see if she’d injured anything else in the fall, especially since it seemed like she’d been unconscious when he found her.
After gathering every bit of his remaining strength, he started the climb up. For the first third of the way, he was able to walk his feet up the side of the cliff. Then he lost his foothold, and ended up pulling himself up hand over hand on the rope.
Every muscle in his body strained. His focus narrowed to one grip after the next.
At last, a hand grabbed his upper arm. His fingers found the edge of the cliff. Then he reached over it, and gripped the rope where it strained in the snow. Digging in one elbow, he levered himself up. Then the other elbow.
His strength was almost completely spent now, but with his body dangling from the waist down, he gave one final heave and hauled himself up over the edge.
He barely had the sense to roll away from the edge. If it hadn’t been for the hand that pulled him, he might not have. At last, he lay in the snow on his back, eyes closed as his breaths came in deep gasps. The blood coursed through his veins, and his body was drenched in sweat. There was no strength left in him.
But they were safe.
A soft hand brushed the hair from his forehead, and he cracked an eyelid to see the angel hovering over him. Her luminous brown eyes found his, then came closer as she planted a soft kiss on his brow.
If he’d had enough breath in his chest, he would have pulled her down for a real kiss, but instead he cradled her hand in his, gloves and all. His thumb stroked the inside of her palm.
No words passed between them as her glimmering eyes locked with his. There was nothing that could possibly be said. It all passed in that gaze. The depth of his love for her. The full extent of his relief that she was alive. They were both alive. Thanks to a Divine hand.
Finally, she eased back, and his exhausted eyelids sank closed. It was high time he acknowledge the One Who’d truly saved them.
“Thank you, Lord.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
CATHLEEN WATCHED REUBEN’S exhausted face as his body recovered from the torture he’d just put it through. Love welled stronger in her chest the more she looked at him, overcoming even the pounding in her skull and the pain piercing her shoulder.
A shuffling sounded behind her, and she turned to see Mrs. Scott trying to rise to her feet.
“Gettin’ all wet sittin’ in this here snow,” the woman mumbled as she tried to push herself to her knees.
Cathleen eased back from Reuben’s grasp, but his hand closed around her palm.
“Wait.”
She turned back as his eyes opened. “I need to help your mum.”
“Mum, can you sit down for a minute?” His voice rasped across the little space, and his mother stopped her scramblings and looked at him.
“All right.” She sank back to her haunches.
Reuben pushed himself up to a sitting position so he faced Cathleen, then turned those piercing blue eyes on her. Something about the grave lines on his face tightened her stomach. “Where’s Bryan? Is there anything we can do for him?”
She had to blink to absorb the words, and it took a moment longer for their true meaning to register. “Bryan? No, he’s at home. We made it fine yesterday, but I was coming back up the mountain on my own today. Somehow, I got off the trail. Then my mare spooked at a deer, and everything happened so fast. I woke up on that ledge.”
As the words poured out of her, his eyes narrowed. “You came up here by yourself?”
She almost giggled at the steely tone in his voice. Maybe she was overwrought from pain and exhaustion. “You’re missing the point. Bryan’s fine.”
After a long moment, the tension in his face and shoulders eased, and he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Thank the Lord.”
Then he straightened again. “Let’s look at that arm. Do you think anything else is hurt?”
“Nothing else.” Her head pounded almost more than her arm, but that was just from the fall. He didn’t need anything else to worry about.
She allowed Reuben to unstrap the sling he’d made, but when he eased the arm out of her coat sleeve, it was all she could do not to cry out. He surely heard the intake of her breath, though.
When he got to the sleeve of her brown shirtwaist, he reached for the knife at his waist. “I’m going to have to cut this.”
He seemed to be waiting for her to object, but she wasn’t about to stop him if it would help. And they did need to know if the break was compound.
With the fabric slit open, a rush of frigid air raised goose skin on her arm, made even colder by the sweat that dampened her body.
“Where does it hurt?” His deep voice was the most soothing thing she’d heard all day.
She tapped the spot on her upper arm, a couple inches below her shoulder. The slightest touch seemed to sear through her, but she didn’t feel bone protruding through the skin. Hopefully the break wasn’t compound. She cradled her forearm and focused on deep, steady breaths as his fingers brushed the spot she’d pointed out.
“Doesn’
t look compound. Let’s get you bandaged and back down the mountain.” He reached for the shirt he’d wrapped her arm in before.
“Just get me to the cabin, so I can take something for the pain. I can splint it myself.” She’d helped with the splinting of more than one arm through the years. Surely she could do this.
He didn’t slow his movements. “I’m taking you to the doctor.”
She was far too exhausted to fight another battle, but she had to ask. “What about your animals?”
“We’ll stop at O’Hennessey’s and ask him to look in on them.”
And with that, she forced the worry out of her mind and sank into his care as he wrapped her arm and settled the coat around her shoulders.
“Do you think you can walk to the sleigh, or shall I carry you?” His voice rumbled close to her ear, and she wanted so badly for him to sweep her into his arms. But he was exhausted too. He’d already born her weight up the side of the cliff.
“I can walk.”
But she was ever so thankful that he helped her to her feet, then wrapped a strong arm around her waist. With his other, he helped his mother stand, and the three of them limped along the path of footprints in the snow. North padded along in front, leading the way. A weary group, more than thankful to be alive.
Reuben settled her and his mum in the sleigh, then untied the horses. It took some doing, but he finally had the rig turned around, and he climbed up in the seat between them.
As they started on their way, Cathleen sank into his side, and he slipped an arm around her waist. It was a welcome relief to rest her aching head on his shoulder, but the pain radiating through her arm made it impossible to relax. A mug of willow bark tea would help a lot. If only…
~ ~ ~
REUBEN HAD FORCED aside the thoughts whirling in his mind while he’d had to focus on guiding the horses around the trees dotting their path in the forest. But now that they were back on the established trail and he didn’t have to focus as much, his questions refused to be contained.
The Lady and the Mountain Call (Mountain Dreams Series Book 5) Page 19