Before he reached the buildings, he veered toward the woods to the shed that housed the generator. It would be dark soon. Might as well turn the thing on while he was out this way. The generator chugged into action without a hitch. He wiped his fingers on his damp jeans. He’d better change clothes, he thought.
After he entered the cabin, he slipped upstairs only to stop in mid-stride. The clothes Margo had changed from were draped across the bed. Quickly, he charged to the loft railing. He thought she’d returned to Fort Bragg hours ago. He couldn’t decide if he was upset or glad that she had hung around.
“Margo!” he hollered over the edge. “Where are you?”
Changing clothes ceased to be important. He charged down the stairs and dashed to the front porch. The Jeep was still there, parked in front of the cabin. The pounding of his heart slowed a fraction. He cursed. Was he that glad she hadn’t left? Wouldn’t it be better if she had? It would be safer for her and easier for him.
He called out her name.
No answer.
A quick search of the immediate area proved she wasn’t around. He checked the workshop and then wondered if she’d gone back to the river in search of him.
He smiled to himself and headed in that direction. He’d come via a shortcut and must have missed her. Maybe she wanted to talk things out.
Mixed feelings churned.
He wanted to look into her big brown eyes and kiss her again, but he couldn’t do that. He might end up caring about her, and he never wanted to care for another living soul again – not after Al Santini…
He quickened his pace and concentrated on the trail. Forget Santini. Find Margo.
The river gurgled its way over the rocks. Birds sang in the trees. Insects fluttered around the wildflowers and ferns. There was no sign of her.
“Margo!”
A hawk screeched overhead. He looked up to see Big Red swooping toward him. “Not now,” he muttered. An uneasy feeling began to unfurl inside him. Where was Margo?
The hawk fluttered his huge wings as he neared. Zane held his arm down so that the sharp claws wouldn’t cut into his bare flesh. The bird landed in a nearby tree. Zane peered into his beady gaze.
“Have you seen her, fella?” He reached up to smooth the feathers of his breast. “Too bad I can’t soar with you. You’ve no doubt seen her with your sharp eyes.”
The hawk blinked again.
“Sorry. No snacks.” He pulled the lining of his pocket out to show the bird it was empty.
Big Red just sat and stared. Zane began to get impatient. It was getting dark; he had to find Margo. He lifted his arm in hopes the hawk would fly away. “Go on, Big Red. Take off. Find Margo. Show me the way.”
The bird flapped its wings and fanned its tail as it lifted off, circling in a current of air. Zane wished the bird could find Margo. He watched as Big Red sailed over the cliffs toward the ridge trail.
Had she gone on that trail? Impossible; it was too dangerous to travel alone. He shook his head before he took one last glance at Big Red soaring over the ridge.
Zane headed back toward the cabin. She probably went for a walk in the redwoods and was inside now, waiting for him. He neared the meadow and grew concerned. No lights shone from the building.
Dark shadows crossed the trail, making it difficult to see. Bigger shadows darkened his heart. Something was wrong – very wrong. Margo would never be out in the night alone.
Zane ran toward the trail through the forest. He called her name over and over. He checked the grove where he fed the animals, went to the picnic spot with the hollowed-out tree, and hiked up the hilltop where they could get a glimpse of the ocean. There was no sign of her. There were no fresh footprints of disturbed underbrush. Anxiety began to clutch at his heart. What had happened?
He leaned against the huge trunk of a redwood tree and tried to calm down and think. Where would she go – and why?
Images of Big Red kept haunting him. The bird couldn’t possibly have known where Margo was, but for some reason he couldn’t get the ridge out of his mind. He glanced up. Stars were beginning to pop out in the gray sky. There wasn’t much time. He had nowhere else to look except the ridge.
On the way through the redwoods he hunted for signs of her passage, but it was getting too dark. He should have grabbed a flashlight.
The trail broke through the trees and the barren ridge rose before him. He looked up, his heart pounding. Was she here? He hollered her name as he scrambled across the treacherous trail. Then he heard her voice and froze.
“Margo. Is that you?”
“Zane. Help me.”
He heard the panic in her voice and fought to keep his own at bay. “I’m coming. Where are you?”
“Down here. By the plane. I fell.”
Rocks slid as he neared the ledge.
“Careful. The trail is gone,” she warned. “You’ll fall down too.”
Zane froze. Her voice sounded near, but he couldn’t see her. He flattened himself onto his belly and inched toward the edge of the cliff. He looked down. His heart stopped and then thundered against his ribs.
“Don’t move, Margo.”
“I don’t intend to.” Her ability to be sarcastic encouraged him. “Can you see me?”
Could he see her? The sight had curdled his blood. One wrong move and she would be at the bottom of the cliff with the mangled plane. He couldn’t reach her either. He swore some more, only aloud this time.
“What are you going to do?” she called up to him.
Good question. His mind raced. “I’m going to go back and get some rope.”
“No. You can’t leave me! It’s getting dark.”
“Listen to me,” he shouted. “I can’t get you out without a rope. And I’m not leaving you there all night.” If she fell asleep and… He shuddered.
“Promise you’ll hurry.”
“Don’t look down. Just keep watching the ridge.”
“How long will you be gone?” Attempted bravery sounded in her voice, as well as fear.
“It shouldn’t take me more than a half hour.” He hated to make her wait that long, but he had to get supplies. “Just keep looking up and I’ll hurry as fast as I can.”
“Zane. There’re stars beginning to show.” She was trying to stall.
“Count them while I’m gone,” he told her. “Just don’t look down.”
“Zane.” He heard her voice as he scrambled down the trail. Its sound tortured him as he ran. It reminded him of Al. He’d pleaded like that too, his voice full of pain and fear.
Zane ran faster and faster. The demons of hell were at his heels and there was no escape. He had to face them or Margo could die.
***
Margo strained her ears, listening for any sound of Zane’s return. She counted stars, but that only frightened her more. Too many were beginning to show and she didn’t want to think about what that meant. She had to remind herself that Zane would be back soon and she would be safe.
Shivers rippled through her, but she wasn’t really cold. It took all of her energy to fight the panic that kept edging closer and closer.
A rock clattered from above and rolled beside her. “Zane?” she shouted.
A ground squirrel chattered.
She wanted the animal to go away; it could start another slide – one that would tumble her over the edge. She listened, but the squirrel had disappeared and silence surrounded her.
Minutes seemed like hours. Where was Zane? Suddenly she heard the sound of gravel crunching.
“Zane?” she shouted.
“I’m coming. Don’t move. I’ve got a rope and light.”
Beams began flashing about in the empty space above her. Then she saw Zane’s head silhouetted against the night sky. Tears of relief began to stream down her cheeks. She wiped them away so she could watch his every move. Then he disappeared.
“Zane?”
“I’m going to tie this rope back here and then lower the end down to you.” His head
reappeared.
She forced her breathing back to normal.
“Don’t grab out for it. You might lose your balance. Just wait until it touches you and then take hold.” He lowered the rope as he rattled off the list of instructions.
She tried to pay attention to all of them while forcing herself not to jump and grab at the rope. She could scarcely see the dark line. It swung two feet from her, then came closer. She reached out, her body teetering.
“Don’t grab!” Zane shouted.
She flattened herself against the rock and closed her eyes. Waves of panic threatened to drown her, so she took deep breaths.
“Don’t look down. Just keep calm.” Zane kept up a barrage of soothing words.
She tried to focus on them. His voice wrapped around her. She let the deep tones caress her frazzled nerves. Suddenly something hairy brushed against her arms.
“The rope. Get it, Margo. It’s on your arm.”
She opened her eyes. Blackness yawned below her. The rope moved, and in slow motion she brought her hand up until the thick strands were in her grasp.
“I’ve got it. I’ve got it now.”
“Good. Pull it up until you feel the knot.”
She gave it a tug.
“Not too fast. Just ease it carefully. I’ll pull on the slack.”
In slow motion, she drew the rope past her chest, careful not to let it slip from her sweat-dampened fingers. The knot stopped her progress. She called up to Zane, “I have the knot. Now what?”
“I made a loop below the knot. Do you think you can swing it over your head and down around your waist?”
“I don’t know if I can bend forward.” Her heart pounded until she thought her head might explode with the rush of blood.
“Don’t move forward. How about under your arms, around your armpits?”
“I’ll try,” she told him. She knew what she needed to do. If she wasn’t tied securely to the rope, he wouldn’t dare lift her. Her hold might loosen, and she shuddered at the thought. “I’ve got it around my head.”
“Hold on to the rope and lean forward to slip it under your arms. Do it fast in case you slip. I want the rope around you.”
Margo leaned her head against the rock and took a deep breath. She could feel the rough hairs of the rope scratch the skin of her neck. She closed her eyes and said every prayer she could think of.
“Don’t think about what could happen,” he advised her. “Just keep picturing yourself up here with me.”
Margo did what he said. She envisioned his strong arms around her and felt his warm body next to hers. It helped.
“Here goes!” she shouted.
She gripped the rope and leaned forward. Rocks slid out from under her. The rope slid in place just in time to catch her weight. Margo screamed as she swung into empty space.
“Margo?” Panic sounded in Zane’s voice.
Her body crashed against the rock and loosened more shale. “I’m on the rope!” she hollered. “Pull me up.”
Jerks on the line alerted her to his efforts. She tried to help by bracing her feet against the rock. It only loosened and tumbled with a crashing roar.
She couldn’t tell how fast he pulled her. She only felt the bumps with each strained tug.
“You’re almost here.” His voice sounded close. “When I pull you up, don’t grab me. Roll onto your stomach and crawl until we’re clear of the ledge.”
She could see him now. She wanted to reach out to him but he kept backing away. “Zane.”
“You’re doing fine. Just keep coming.”
Rocks didn’t tumble anymore. The rope didn’t pull. Suddenly the ground felt solid and level. She crawled another foot and arms wrapped around her.
He pulled her into his lap and cradled her head against his shoulder while he carefully loosened the rope. “You’re safe. You scared ten years off of my life.”
She couldn’t talk. She burrowed into his embrace and let relief pour forth, but she couldn’t even cry. Her body felt like mush as waves of dizziness overwhelmed her. She clutched at his broad shoulders and held him tight as he searched her body for broken bones. In spite of the comfort of his arms around her, she did flinch when he touched the sore spots.
“Doesn’t feel like anything’s broken,” he said after apologizing for hurting her. “What do you think?”
“I can’t tell. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” She loosened her hold. “Not to mention the state of my nervous system.”
Carefully he held her, bending to brush his lips across her temple. “Don’t ever do that again,” he murmured into her hair.
***
When Margo awoke she didn’t know how late it was. Stars still shone, so morning obviously hadn’t arrived. Lights were on below in the main part of the house. She stretched stiff legs across the water bed and let the wave action from the movement massage the aches.
She rolled onto her stomach, wincing slightly when her weight shifted across the large bruise on her side. Her head burrowed into the feather pillow. Zane’s pillow. She could smell his maleness all around her, making her feel secure.
The image of him when he brought her back to the cabin made her smile. He’d been so careful, half carrying her the whole way and then ministering to her cuts and bruises. A hot shower had not only cleaned off the dirt but had also soothed aching muscles.
Fortunately there were no serious injuries, and Margo had decided to drive back to the inn. Zane refused to allow her to even consider it. She had to admit the idea of shifting and steering the Jeep with her sore muscles didn’t exactly appeal to her. Finally, a touch of humor convinced her.
“It’s black as pitch out here and the night life’s active,” he told her.
“Night life? Active?” Images flashed of the nature programs she’d seen on television, her only contact with the great outdoors.
“Predators, you know. Coyotes. Mountain lions. Bobcats. Evening’s their dinnertime.”
That had done it. She was staying. “You’ve got yourself a guest,” she’d said with a chuckle.
Smiling at the memory, Margo rolled to her good side. The oversize T-shirt Zane had lent her caught around her waist, but she didn’t bother to straighten it. She closed her eyes, glad she had decided to stay. This was infinitely better than the treacherous road, especially at night. She curled against the pillow and let herself enjoy the intimacy of being there.
She thought she’d drop off to sleep again, but she lay wide awake and aware of Zane. Finally, stiff and sore, she climbed out of bed and stood by the railing to look down, wondering if he was asleep on the couch. He wasn’t there.
“Zane,” she called.
No answer.
She started to head for the stairs when the lights suddenly went out. Margo froze, stunned for brief seconds before she realized it was pitch black in the house.
“Zane!”
Silence. Terrifying, dark silence.
She hollered again.
***
Zane was almost to the cabin when he heard it. His blood turned to ice. How many times had he heard that sound of terror in the jungles of Nam? This time it was Margo. Zane ran, his adrenaline pumping hard. What had happened?
He slammed through the back door, not bothering to shut it, and charged up the stairs where he’d left her in the loft.
“I’m coming! What’s wrong? Talk to me so I can find you.”
Her unsteady breathing echoed in the room as he felt along the bed.
“Where are you?”
She suddenly flung herself against him. He wrapped his arms around her and held tight, breathing in the reassuring scent of her sleep-warmed body. Her frame vibrated with tremors, and he could feel her fight to control them. He soothed his hands along her back to help with her struggle.
“What is it? What’s the matter?”
“The lights,” she managed to mutter.
“I turned the generator off. That’s all.” Relief poured into him. It was just a
nightmare; he knew about those terrors.
She tightened her arms around his neck. “Don’t leave me.”
“I can go turn it back on.”
“No. Don’t leave. Not when it’s dark.”
A surge of tenderness welled up in him. He fought it for a moment until he heard the catch in her breath. Then he gave in to it and lifted her into his arms to curve her next to his chest. With easy strides, he carried her downstairs. Her body tensed, but she didn’t protest.
“I’m taking you downstairs,” he murmured as he carefully made his way. “There’s wood set in the fireplace.”
He started to set her on the couch so he could light the fire, but she shivered against him. Instead of putting her down, he knelt on the hearth and rested her on his bent knee. Single-handedly he struck a match and leaned toward the wadded-up papers.
“Now we’ll have light and heat,” he assured her.
She tucked her head into the curve of his neck. The action crumbled a few more stones from the wall around his heart. He pressed her close, wanting to comfort, yet enjoying the feel of her as well.
When the flames flickered, she pulled away from him. He saw the doubt in her eyes, but there was also a flicker of longing. He’d have to let her leave his arms, but it helped to know she didn’t really want to.
She stepped out of his lap and sat on the couch. Zane watched the flames, trying to replace her warmth with that of the fire until he finally gave up and went to the other end of the couch. He heard her take a deep breath and wondered how a woman as gutsy as she was could be afraid of the dark. But he didn’t ask; he knew what it was like to have secrets.
The fire crackled and lit up a small area in front of the couch. Around them shadows danced in the silence until Margo spoke.
“I’m sorry about the panic scene back there. I work hard to control my ridiculous phobia.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me.” Being frightened of the dark couldn’t compare to his fears.
“I know I don’t need to rationalize, but can you imagine how demoralizing it is to be a psychologist and still have that kind of reaction?”
“You’re human too.”
Her glance held his as she read his understanding. He let her see the caring too.
Love's Miracles Page 20