Almost standing on the brakes, she made a last vain attempt to stop short of the rising river. The trailer struck the back of the pickup and threw them sideways. Alexa’s head hit the driver’s window hard. She felt fleeting pain before her air bag exploded, knocking the breath out of her. Gasping, she looked ahead to see a bolt of lightning hit the outside antenna, enter the cab through the radio, and pop and sizzle across the metal dashboard. Just like July 4th fireworks, was her last coherent thought.
DOG LEAPED INTO Rafe’s lap, lurching around in a frenzy. The pickup canted to the left. Rafe didn’t know what had happened. He felt the collie’s back paws digging into his thigh and knew the vehicle seemed suspended on its side. Dog whirled around and Rafe heard him frantically pawing at Alexa.
A sixth sense, one Rafe had counted on often in battle, sounded a warning. “Alexa?” he shouted, leaning around the dog. He set a hand on the dash and yelped in pain at the hot metal.Alexa didn’t answer. Rafe’s heart contracted and his insides went cold. Something was bad wrong. Then his mind switched to autopilot as years of military training kicked in. He had to act quickly.
The dog had gone nuts since Alexa wasn’t moving. Rafe realized water was seeping into his boots. Cold water. “Quiet,” he bellowed at the dog. Surprisingly the collie whimpered and slunk back onto Rafe’s lap. Waving an arm toward Alexa, Rafe encountered a spongy balloon—an inflated air bag. If there was one on his side in this old pickup, it remained intact.
Fear crashed down around Rafe.
Sweat ran in his eyes, and trickled down his chest. Groping wildly, he found Alexa, and could tell she was out, but breathing. Intuition sent shivers crawling up his spine. Whatever their predicament, he had no time to lose. Not only was the dog in full panic mode, but water was now soaking Rafe’s knees and climbing higher.
There was no time to get his bearings. Rafe ran a hand frantically down the back of the seat until he located the clasp on Alexa’s seat belt. He stabbed it three times before he felt the catch release, and as it did, the pickup tilted farther left.
Jaw clenched, he moved Dog aside and kicked the front windshield. The boots Alexa had bought him were filled with water, weighing him down. Holding his breath, Rafe shucked his boots, and in the next motion, shoved the objecting dog out through the opening into the cold water.
He felt down Alexa’s inert body, anchored his left hand through her leather belt and pushed her out the opening, thrusting her up, hopefully into fresh air. He attempted to follow, but his shoulders wouldn’t fit through. Anxiety clawed at lungs that felt close to bursting. Rafe’s greatest fear was that he’d have to let go of Alexa. His entire energy coalesced, and in a last-ditch effort, he broke free of the rapidly filling cab.
Behind him, the pickup began to tumble like a bathtub toy. Rafe surfaced in a river gone mad, and for an insane minute he feared he and Alexa were going to be sucked under.
Rain hammered his head as he treaded water in an effort to stay afloat and keep Alexa’s head above water. For a terrible moment he realized he had no earthly idea which direction to swim. His newly professed love for the woman in his arms, and a deeply rooted fear of losing her before they could sort out their differences, had him looking to heaven and filling his mind with an old cowboy motto that had given him strength before. Being a good cowboy isn’t something seen in a rodeo arena, or on a TV screen. It’s something that grows from within a man.
The cobwebs cleared from his brain. He knew which way the river flowed. He knew the wind had been blowing east toward the mountains—toward land. Slowing his frantic treading, Rafe listened intently to the wind. What he heard was the faint sound of a dog barking. A burst of joy gave him the energy to fight the river’s pull. Kicking hard, scooping water with his right hand, he shoved at debris and paddled steadily toward the sound. Too many times his head dipped below the surface, but he coughed and lifted Alexa higher with an arm that felt dead.
What if he was swimming in the wrong direction? Almost too tuckered to continue to fight, Rafe caught the scent of wet dog, and wetter earth, and his arms and feet tangled in weeds. He’d reached land. Thank God!
Every muscle in his legs shook as he dragged his exhausted body and a still limp Alexa ashore. His taxed lungs hauled in big gulps of air. The dog sounded closer now, but thunder still rumbled overhead, making it hard to tell.
They weren’t out of the woods yet. On his knees, he coughed up water, then he bent Alexa over his arm and pounded her back until the water rushed from her lungs. She went into spasms of coughing, but Rafe was just grateful to know she was alive.
Everything moved in slow motion then. His legs cramped. Both arms felt too heavy to lift. Rafe wanted to lie back and do nothing, but out of nowhere, Dog bounded up. He was shivering and his coat was soaking wet, but he licked their faces then lowered his head and whined. The dog grabbed Rafe’s jacket sleeve and tugged until Rafe heard the thin material rip. “Hey, what are you doing?”
A faintly fuzzy white flash hit the earth a short distance away and Rafe knew it was lightning.
He shook Alexa until she raised a hand to stop him. “We can’t stay out here in the open. Where do you hurt? You were out cold for a while.” Rafe struggled to stand.
Alexa rubbed her head. “I think I hit my head on the window right before the air bag smacked me in the face. I…I feel a knot on the left side of my head.” She tried getting up, but fell back. “I’m weak as a kitten. Rafe…how did we get here? I can barely make out the pickup and trailer. The truck’s bobbing in the river. The trailer may be caught on a jutting rock. Rafe, you saved us,” she said, her voice full of wonderment.
Water swirled around Rafe’s ankles. He understood the river was still rising. “I was able to get us out of the pickup, but it was your barking friend here who led me to the bank. I think he’s trying to get us to follow him. It’ll be evening soon, right? We need to find shelter.”
Alexa looped her arms around the dog’s neck. “It was weather about this bad when I found him almost drowned in a ditch. Poor doggie. He was worn out from trying to climb out. The sides were so muddy, he kept sliding back down.” Alexa’s voice sounded hoarse. She tried again to stand, but sank to her knees. “You go find a place, Rafe. I don’t have the energy. I…I can’t seem to catch my breath.”
“You probably inhaled too much water.” Reaching down, Rafe took her arm and slung her up over his back in a fireman’s carry. “We’re all going to find shelter. Go, boy,” he instructed the dog. “I’ll do my best to follow.”
Rafe’s socks were no cushion against sharp rocks and downed limbs. During lightning strikes he saw enough smudgy outlines to aim uphill for what he hoped was a stand of trees. Unsure how long he slogged up the slick, rocky incline, Rafe was beyond relieved when the collie barked just ahead of him. Walking over, he realized the dog stood under a canopy of what smelled to Rafe like wet pine mixed with fragrant cedar. Best of all, the ground felt dryer.
Gently, he set Alexa down, then propped his back against a substantial tree trunk. He slid down until his tired butt hit the ground.
“RAFE?” ALEXA LEVERED herself up and pressed her free hand to her still throbbing head. “I…did I black out again?”
Rafe crawled over to her and began sliding his hands up her legs and over her arms, checking for other injuries. When he got to her head, he touched a goose-egg-sized lump, and she shied away, moaning, “Oooh, oooh.”“You have a knot the size of my fist, but I don’t feel any blood.”
Alexa felt under his fingers. “It hurts like fury, but I don’t think it’s split. Luckily I have a hard head.” She tried to laugh, but stopped, because it hurt too much. “I’m scraped and bruised, but alive thanks to you.” She kissed Rafe, then hugged Compadre, who sat panting close beside her. Then she started to cry. “It’s my fault we’re in this mess. I saw the river had washed over the road or washed it out and I panicked and hit the brakes too hard. Oh, Rafe, I could have killed us all.”
“You didn’t.
It took all of us together to make it this far.”
“Don’t get all humble. You’re my hero, Rafe. Accept that, darn it.”
“Okay,” he said gruffly. “But hypothermia is our next threat. Where the devil do you suppose we are? And do we have a way of contacting park rangers, border patrol…” Rafe hit the ground with his hand. “Last time I felt such a total lack of control was my last day in Afghanistan.”
Alexa dug in her jacket pocket beneath her raincoat. “Oh no, my cell phone is soaked. It won’t turn on. Look at you, Rafe. Good grief, your boots are gone, and you have nothing covering your shoulders but a cotton shirt.” Swaying woozily, she stripped off her own jacket and tried to drape it over Rafe’s shoulders. The sheepskin lining would help warm him.
“Cover Compadre,” he said.
She did as he requested, and the dog huddled under the jacket with a grateful woof. “Rafe, that’s the first time you didn’t call him Dog.”
“Yeah, well, if it weren’t for him guiding me from the shore, it’d be curtains for you and me. I figure he deserves being called friend in any language.”
“You two work well together. When we get out of here, I’m going to cook you both a steak. Then you and I have some other unfinished business,” she said, stretching up to kiss the underside of Rafe’s jaw.
He passed a hand over the spot, and his lips quirked up in a smile Alexa saw thanks to another burst of lightning, although farther away this time.
“Less rain is making it down through the branches,” Rafe muttered. “I guess the storm is moving away. Damn, but I feel so blasted useless.”
“I won’t listen to that kind of talk, Rafe. After what you just did, you shouldn’t ever feel useless again. And don’t say Compadre got us out of the pickup, because I know that would be impossible.”
“During training for swamp fighting, I learned there’s a weak spot in the rubber grommet that holds in a windshield. If you kick it with enough force, it pops right out. The heels on the boots you bought me came in handy, Alexa. But I couldn’t swim in them. Sorry I had to ditch them.”
“I’ll buy you another pair. Two. Even if I hadn’t been knocked out, I probably would’ve drowned. I know park rangers say if you hold your breath and roll down a side window after your submerged vehicle settles, there’s time to get out. But I was already feeling panicky. You were the one who stayed calm and collected.”
“Quit with the pats on the back, already,” Rafe protested. “We’re not out of danger yet. I hate to have to hike back down to the road. It’s too dark for you to see if the river’s risen over the highway.”
“We are in a pickle, aren’t we, Rafe? We’re not expected anywhere. The Buckleys have no reason to think we didn’t make it home. We’re really stuck. Oh, Rafe, we could die out here.” She started to cry again. “Whatever happens, Rafe, I want you to know I love you exactly the way you are.” Alexa was close to hysterical, but the floodgates had opened.
Rafe wrapped her in his arms. “Just hold that thought, okay? Listen, you’re hurt and frazzled now. We both had our say before we went into the Rio Grande. I promise you, sweetheart, we aren’t going to die out here. We only need to formulate a plan.”
Alexa took comfort from his words and his arms. “I trust you, Rafe.”
“Good.” He let a few minutes pass. “When we were driving to Buckley’s, you mentioned adobe homes above the road. I know you said they’re summer places, and it’s well past summer. But if you step out from under the trees, I wonder if you can see lights in any of them. If not, our only choice is to pick our way back down to the road and hike up The Hill to Presidio even if it takes all night.”
“That hill alone presents a tough climb, Rafe, and we already know the road might be flooded. But I’ll go have a look. Compadre, stay with Rafe,” she commanded, because the collie got up when she got did.
Alexa trudged off. She wasn’t gone long. “There is one house lit,” she said excitedly. “We must have floated downriver farther than I thought. The homes on the ridge are still west of this stand of trees. My watch has stopped, but, Rafe, it must be six or seven o’clock. Should we wait here until morning? I mean, who knows what we may run into out there in the dark.”
“Trouble is, we can’t be sure we won’t get hit by a second storm. The radio station you turned on suggested more rain on the way. My gut instinct says to hit civilization as quickly as possible. Hopefully get to a place where there’s a phone. I can call Doug. He’ll know who to contact to rescue us, Alexa.”
“You’re right. I expected to be back home tonight. I have animals needing to be fed. I really screwed up. I should have listened when you asked if it would be better to delay delivering Esperanza.”
Rafe hugged her. “No regrets, Alexa. Be thankful we got out alive. Be thankful it happened on our way home, after we delivered Esperanza. Of course, your pickup and trailer are goners.”
“Things, Rafe. It was my grandfather’s pickup and trailer. Both saw a lot of use in their day. I learned a long time ago that things aren’t anywhere near as important as people.” She hooked her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to where she could press damp, teary kisses over his face.
“Enough,” Rafe said, brushing the tip of her nose. “Time we got going.”
Compadre, who sensed something was up, rose and shook off Alexa’s jacket. She bent and scrubbed him as dry as she could.
“How’s your head now?” Rafe asked.
“Tender, but at least I’m not dizzy.”
Travel was rough. Being a natural leader, Rafe wanted to break trail behind the dog. The second time he bruised his shins on a fallen log and caused Alexa to crash into his back, she grabbed his arm.
“I know cowboys and soldiers expect to be trailblazers, but I’m the eyes for our ragtag group. I can’t bring up the rear and be anyone’s eyes.”
Rafe whistled to Compadre, who continued to crash ahead through the underbrush. For all the energy they’d expended, they really hadn’t gone far.
“I should be able to protect you, but can’t,” Rafe grumbled.
“Funny, I always thought a partnership meant working together. Weighing each person’s strengths and weaknesses, then utilizing the best in both. From my perspective here, maybe because I still have my boots on, it seems I’m the better candidate to lead. At this rate your feet will be cut to ribbons before we’re halfway to our destination.” Alexa couldn’t believe they were standing here arguing, freezing cold, exhausted and basically lost. Stubborn man. “Can’t it be enough for your ego to know you got us this far?”
“Put that way, Alexa, I suppose it can. But if when—we make it back to your ranch, you’d better look back on this and start believing in yourself as the capable woman I know you are.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ll agree to quit brooding over the loss of my eyesight if you cut yourself slack and stop taking the blame for Bobby Duval’s death. You’ve let your mother hold it over your head too long.”
Alexa expelled a sudden, deflating breath. “How did you guess?” she said.
“Because I was guilty of the same thing. After Mike and Joey were killed, I thought I’d lost the ability to save anyone, including myself. Today, I learned different.”
Alexa didn’t speak. She simply wove her arms around Rafe’s waist and lifted her face up to his for a long, satisfying kiss. They clung together, savoring and accepting the truth of Rafe’s words until Compadre’s insistent barking pulled them apart.
“We’d better see what he’s found,” Rafe finally said, slowly releasing Alexa.
What next, she thought.
Hand in hand, they picked their way uphill, following the dog. The prize he wanted to show them proved to be a trail of sorts that zigzagged up to a dozen or so steps carved out of the limestone cliff. Steps that led up to the top of the ridge to a level, graveled area between two adobe homes.
“We made it! We made it!” Alexa hopped up and down w
ith joy. “I’m tempted to get down on my knees and kiss the ground right here,” she told Rafe.
“Who’s out there?” a man shouted through the darkness. “I have a rifle. If this is your dog, come get him, and identify yourselves.”
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot,” Alexa and Rafe shouted in unison. Alexa grabbed Rafe’s hand and tried to run along a gravel path in the direction of Compadre’s barking. Rafe hobbled behind her on obviously tender feet.
“I delivered a horse to Jim Buckley, up past Presidio, around noon today,” Alexa called out. “We got caught in the worst of the storm. At the bottom of The Hill, our pickup and trailer hit a washout and plunged us into the river. Rafe got us out.” She turned back and held tight to his arm.
“Here, I’ll let go of your dog and snap on the porch light,” a man’s voice said. “I can see you’re bedraggled all right. My name is Pete Johnston. My wife thought she saw a pickup floating in the river. Come on in. God only knows how you made it out of that river, let alone climbed up here.”
“I went through worse in Afghanistan,” Rafe said, “and I’d appreciate if you’d uncock that rifle. We don’t mean you any harm. In fact, I’ll give you the phone number of my brother-in-law. He’s a border patrol agent. Doug Martinez is his name.”
Alexa gazed up at Rafe. She’d had no idea the man on the porch hadn’t engaged the catch on his weapon. She squeezed Rafe’s arm.
“I’m Laurie Johnston,” a woman said, stepping out of the home. “Pete, put down that gun. It’s not even loaded.” She sounded exasperated. “I told you I saw a truck down in the river. Let these poor people and their dog come in and warm up. Can’t you see they’re soaked and too out of breath to be a threat to a flea?”
The Cowboy Soldier Page 17