Cowboy Christmas Rescue

by Beth Cornelison

  Pinned against the branch by the current, he blinked hard, fighting to stay conscious. The cold water sapped his strength, and his body ached from the battering of the debris and tree limbs. The struggle to draw air in his lungs left him dizzy. But losing his grip on the tree, giving in to the gray fuzziness at the edges of his vision, was not an option. Failure now meant both his death and Kara’s.

  * * *

  A bone-deep tremor rocked Kara. She watched helplessly as the muddy water tossed Brady and slammed him against a cottonwood tree growing at a low angle from the arroyo wall. Her breath caught and held as she waited for some movement, some sound that told her he was alive. Please, Brady! Move a hand. Call to me. Anything!

  Through her tears, past and present blurred and tangled.

  The suicidal jumper. Her father’s pleading with the woman. His heroic jump into the river to save her...and the heartbreaking image of his head disappearing below the water time and again as he tried to pull the woman to safety.

  “You should be proud of your father. He died a hero. He gave himself in the line of duty,” well-meaning people had told her.

  But for Kara, her father’s death was pointless. He’d cared more about a misplaced sense of duty than he had cared about her. She blamed his job, the inherent danger of law enforcement for stealing the man who’d been her lifeline when she was thirteen.

  And now...would she lose Brady because he’d been trying to rescue her?

  “Brady!” she shouted, her voice breaking.

  She squeezed the rope in her hand, the rope Brady had been tying to her when the overhang gave way. The rope that—

  Her pulse slowed...

  The rope! With a sob of relief and revelation, she shot a glance to the coil she held. With a sobering breath, she shook herself from her self-pitying fog and panic. She had to act. She had the means to save both herself and Brady.

  Giving the rope a hard tug, she reassured herself it was securely anchored at the top of the cliff. Of course it was. Brady would have seen to that.

  “Brady, hold on!” she yelled as she knotted the rope around her waist. “I’m coming!”

  To be sure she was tied fast, she threaded the rope between her legs to make a diaper sling, then back up under her dress. She prayed the rope was long enough to reach Brady. He’d washed a good way downstream. Once she felt she was lashed in, she faced the thundering water below her, and her stomach swooped.

  Oh, dear God! Do I really have to go in that roiling maelstrom, that frigid death trap?

  She did, if she was going to help Brady. She turned her gaze to the spot where Brady clung to the cottonwood, and her mind’s eye saw her father’s head sinking below the swirling water. Daddy!

  The runoff rushing through the arroyo taunted her, and she sucked in a tremulous breath.

  Was she destined to die the same way her father had? Adrenaline kicked her heart rate to a gallop.

  Even if she died trying, she had to attempt to save Brady. Her life would be agony if she lost him on top of losing her father. Gathering her courage, she ran through logistics in her head. Not only did she have to swim to the cottonwood on the other side of the ravine, she had to account for the current washing her downstream. Timing was everything. She’d have to leap as far out across the water as she could. And upstream, buying herself a few more precious seconds to paddle to Brady.

  As much as she hated losing the tuxedo jacket, she knew it would encumber her when she tried to swim. She shucked off the garment Brady had draped around her and groaned at the cold blast of wind on her arms. Glancing down at the soggy maxi dress stuck to her legs, she knew the yards of material had to go, as well. Its waterlogged weight and the impediment of a long skirt tangling around her legs would prove a liability she couldn’t afford. Grimacing when she remembered how much she’d paid for the dress last week in Amarillo, she pulled at the seam and ripped off the bottom half of the skirt. Goose bumps rose on her bare legs, and her toes were already growing numb from the cold. Haste was of the essence. The temperature would only continue to drop, endangering her and Brady more with each passing minute.

  Then steeling her nerves, she faced the rushing water.

  “Daddy, help me!” she whispered to the heavens...and jumped.

  Chapter 4

  “Brady!” The sound of Kara’s voice cut through the whoosh of water and the thudding in his head. His chest wrenched, knowing he’d failed her.

  “Brady!” The branches of the tree shook, and a hand grasped at his belt.

  Kara?

  Fear for her life jolted him out of his reverie, and he cut a side glance to the woman battling the current and grasping for a hold on the cottonwood branch. Shifting his own grip to free a hand, he groped for her arm and hauled her closer to him.

  Sputtering and shivering, she draped herself over the trunk of the tree and gasped for breath.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, his tone sharpened by shock and concern for her.

  Still panting for air, she angled an angry look at him. “Shopping...for prom!” she grated. “What...does it l-look...like?”

  “It looks like you’re trying to get yourself killed!”

  She frowned and coughed. “Well...there’s that, too.”

  Her sarcasm chafed his raw nerves. This was no time for jokes, no matter how snarky.

  “Of all the—” He cut himself off, gritting his teeth as he tugged her onto the tree more securely. He didn’t know whether to rant at her or kiss her. But when she raised her chin, facing him with muddy water streaming down her gorgeous face, her lush lips scowling at him and her golden-brown eyes flashing with fury, he chose the latter. He splayed a hand at the nape of her neck and captured her mouth with a kiss meant to claim her and calm his frustration with her recklessness.

  She mewled a weak protest, then leaned into the kiss, her lips as eager and desperate as his. When he raised his mouth from hers, she met his gaze with haunted eyes. The emotion in them said what she refused to admit. She still wanted him, still needed him, still loved him.

  But she quickly pulled her head away from his grip, and the tenderness in her expression was replaced with hard determination and pragmatism.

  “Enough of that,” she chastened. “Grab the rope. We g-gotta get out of this water before this branch g-gives way.”

  He jerked a nod, and clinging awkwardly to the tree trunk with one arm, he began tugging at the knots in the rope. “That was a foolish risk to take, babe—” he huffed a sigh “—but thanks.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Like I’d stand by and watch you drown? I had no choice!”

  He cut a wry glance at her. “You’re killing me with your sentimentality.”

  Growling under her breath, she said, “I just meant—” She shook her head and batted his hands away from the knot at her waist. “Can we save the argument for later?”

  “I have no desire to argue with you, Kara.” Undeterred by her swat, he slid his fingers along the rope, feeling for the configuration she’d devised to secure it around her.

  She gasped as his hand moved between her legs.

  “Brady, stop it!” She pushed again at his arm, sputtering when the wind blew a wave into her face.

  “Used to be, you’d say, ‘Don’t stop.’ Remember those days, babe?” He sure did, and the memory stirred a heat low in his belly. “Tangled up in the sheets rather than some old rope?”

  Her answering glare said she wasn’t amused. “Not the time, Sheriff.”

  He pressed his mouth in a grim line. He missed the sense of humor she used to share freely with him. The easy camaraderie that helped them through difficult times and filled their quiet moments alone with laughter. Resigned to her all-business mode, he addressed the situation with a similar efficiency. “You did a great job with the sling you made. No point untying it.” He fumbled one-handed to unfasten his belt buckle, and her eyes widened and grew smoky. So she wasn’t immune to him, after all.

  “Brady...” Her
tone held a warning.

  “Settle down, babe. You’ve made your point. But rather than undo your sling, I’m going to fasten my belt through the loop at your waist.”

  Her tense expression eased, and she bobbed a nod. With shaking hands, Kara helped him poke the leather belt under the rope. When he cinched it more tightly, her hips were tugged more snugly against his.

  Kara gave a breathy little gasp as he settled into the intimate position and wrapped an arm around her to bring her chest against his.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Her eyes narrowed with accusation, but he didn’t miss the ragged flutter of her breath against his cheek. Or the throbbing pulse in her neck. Or the widening of her pupils. She was as aroused by the contact of their bodies as he was.

  “So sue me. I won’t apologize for the fact that you turn me on, even in the worst of circumstances.” He arched an eyebrow, adding, “At least I’m honest with myself about what I’m feeling and what I want.”

  Her jaw dropped in affront, but muddy water splashed in her face, making her cough and gasp for a breath.

  “Okay, babe, hold on to me. Tight. This could get dicey.” Without waiting for her to follow his instruction, he shifted his free hand’s grip to the rope. They dipped lower in the water, and she threw her arms around him, curling her fingers into his shirt.

  Before releasing his hold on the tree branch that had saved him, he smacked another quick kiss on Kara’s lips. “For luck! Now hang on!”

  With a silent prayer, he let go of the cottonwood and seized the rope with both hands.

  * * *

  Kara clenched her teeth, both to keep them from chattering in the desperately cold water and to keep from getting more of the muddy runoff in her mouth. Tense with fear, she clung to Brady and repeated a silent chant in her head. Please, please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease!

  At first she fixed her eyes on the opposite side of the arroyo, to the rocky incline they’d have to scale after crossing the water. If they got across the water...

  No! No negative thoughts! They could do this. Brady could do this. He was strong and capable and determined...

  She shifted her attention to his slow hand-over-hand progress as he pulled them against the current. His biceps and shoulder muscles flexed and bulged as he fought the swift water. She tried to help by scissor-kicking, but the chill had seeped deep into her muscles, leaving her legs numb and weak. Seeing how far they had to go to reach safety discouraged her, so after a few minutes, she focused only on what was right in front of her—the next few inches of rope they needed to travel. Brady’s heroic efforts to pull them through the water. His rugged face, scrunched in exertion. The fire of dogged determination bright in his eyes.

  She curled her lips in, still feeling the warm tingle of his kiss there...and dancing in her veins like sparks rising from a campfire and swirling in the night sky.

  He’d come out in this horrible storm to look for her. And as she’d predicted, he’d found her. She didn’t try to name the warm feeling that swelled inside her.

  When Brady grunted with effort, she glanced again to his grip on the rope, the slow hand-over-hand progress as he pulled them against the waves. Sympathy twisted in her chest. His palms had to be raw from the wet hemp rope. Under the best of circumstances, ranchers wore gloves when working. She needed to help him, had to lend him whatever strength she could muster.

  She reached for the rope, just below his grip and pulled for all she was worth.

  “Kara! D—” He choked on a mouthful of water, but the anxiety in his tone spoke for him.

  She answered with a defiant look and continued to squeeze the rope, tugging and inching hand-over-hand with him. Her muscles quivered, but pulling together, they moved more quickly toward the far side of the ravine. Soon they were hoisting themselves up, out of the water, feet scrabbling to climb the clay stone wall.

  When at last she heaved herself over the top edge of the ravine wall, Kara flopped on the muddy ground, completely spent.

  But Brady had other ideas. Still attached to the rope at the waist, he fumbled to undo his belt. When he was unhooked from her, he rose on his hands and knees beside her, and he tugged at her arm. “Come on. Get up. You’re losing body heat, lying in those puddles.”

  “I’m...s-so tired.” She used every bit of restraint left in her not to sound whiny when she voiced her objection. The simple truth was, her energy was sapped, and hypothermia was settling in...quickly.

  Brady staggered to his feet, and with strength he found God knew where, he lifted her in his trembling arms. Carrying her, he stumbled to the ATV and sat on the ground with her on his lap. He chafed her aching arms, though his hands were as cold as hers. Covering one of his hands with hers, she turned his palm up to examine it. As she’d expected, his skin was red and blistered, scraped by the rough rope. Her hands were raw, too, but Brady’s were much worse.

  “Oh, Brady...” She touched the abraded skin gently with her fingers.

  “I’m fine.” He tugged his hand from her grasp and wrapped his arms around her again.

  She curled against him, savoring the security of being out of the water, safe on high ground. Brady had saved her life.

  Gratitude tugged at her, deep in her core. No...more than gratitude. A deeply poignant sense of reassurance and affection that brought tears to her eyes and stole her breath. “Y-you came after m-me.”

  Brady’s hands stilled for a moment. “Of course I did. Why would that even be a question for you?”

  “I—”

  He cut her off with a kiss that burrowed deep into her, warming her from the inside and reviving feelings she’d worked hard to bury in the past several months. A bittersweet pang wrenched in her chest. Good Lord, she’d missed him, missed his kiss.

  The brush with death, the biting cold and her staggering fatigue conspired to strip away pretenses and protective intentions. She was emotionally raw and vulnerable, and she needed what only Brady had ever given her. Lifting her arms to circle his neck, she angled her head to deepen the kiss, greedy for more. But even as she clung to him and took refuge in the caress of his mouth on hers, a stubborn voice in her head warned her of the danger she would be in if she opened her heart to him again.

  With his hands splayed on either side of her face, Brady nudged her head back and looked deep into her eyes. “Babe, when you bolted out of that barn and took off, you were my highest priority. When I heard the gunfire, I’d thought you’d been shot, and when you rode off like that, hell for leather—”

  “The sh-shooter...” She paused as a chill sent a shudder through her. “Has he been c-caught?”

  Brady’s chest heaved as he sighed. “Not last I heard. But I’m guessing my phone is dead, thanks to our swim.” He coughed and shook from the cold, too. “We’ll have to wait until we get back for an update.”

  She tipped her head to gaze up at him in confusion. “You didn’t s-stay to l-look for him? B-but you’re the sheriff. Wh-why—”

  “Well, I could hardly be two places at once, could I?”

  “But...”

  “I left Wilhite in charge of securing the scene and tracking down the shooter. He and Anderson are more than competent in handling things until we get back.”

  “B-but...”

  “Hey—” He cupped the side of her face and pinned her with his gaze. “I made my choice. You’ll always be my first priority.” He pressed warm lips to her forehead. “So...don’t make me regret my choice by badgering me about it. Okay?” He flashed her a crooked grin, and she scoffed a soft laugh.

  Despite his current teasing, she hadn’t missed what he’d said. His first priority? The sentiment touched her. And yet...

  Brady’s earlier choices contradicted his claims about her place in his life. She squeezed her eyes shut as she burrowed closer to his body heat. Wherever she truly stood with him, he was here now. He had rescued her. And she wouldn’t take that for granted.

  “Th-thank you...for coming. F
or finding me...”

  He hugged her more tightly and chuckled. “Just doing my job. You are my key witness, after all. I need you to identify the shooter when we get back to town.”

  She raised her chin again and scowled. “That’s why you came after me? Because it was your job?”

  He looked startled by her tone. “It was a factor. Not the only factor, or even the main one, but part of the reason. Yes.”

  She hunched her shoulders and glared at him.

  He shook his head and dragged her close again, wrapping his arms around her. “What? You scold me for not doing my job by staying to look for the sniper, and when I say finding you was part of my job, that’s wrong, too?”

  She groaned, and her teeth chattered as another blast of chilly wind buffeted them. “I didn’t say that. I just... I d-don’t want to fight.” She was too cold, too tired to think straight.

  He sighed. “I don’t want to fight either.” A tremor rolled through him as well, and he bit out a curse. “We have to get warm somehow.”

  “Any ideas?”

  He scooted her off his lap and moved to the back of the ATV. “I think I saw a first-aid kit in here. Maybe there’s an emergency blanket in it.”

  She rose to her feet and watched him rummage in the cargo box and extract a red kit. He cracked open the seal and rifled the contents.

  “Bingo!” he said, his face brightening. Tossing the remaining first-aid items back in the cargo box, he opened the tightly folded emergency blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  The thin metallic-looking plastic sheet was cold at first, but as designed, it trapped what little body heat she created. Soon she felt a pocket of warmth growing around her.

  “Is this the only one in there?”

  Brady nodded. “Yeah. But you need it more than I do.”

  “We can share.” She wobbled closer to him, raising the corner of the blanket to pull him in with her.

  He huddled under the silver sheeting for a moment, holding her close, then edged back. “You take it. I need my arms free to drive the ATV. We have to get back before the temperature drops any more.”