warning was unnecessary. The spongy ground beneath her feet grew more and more unstable the closer she got to the edge.
Nearing the precipice, she dropped to her hands and knees, creeping forward until she could see over the edge. The drop-off was sheer and farther down than she expected. The creek that rushed past about ten feet below was swollen and muddy, littered with storm debris that moved at an alarming speed. Five feet below and about three feet to her left, a tiny girl with stringy black curls gazed up at Mariah with wide, terrified brown eyes.
“Help!” Her grubby hands were wrapped around a piece of chain-link fence jutting from the side of the drop-off. It must have been part of an old fence that no longer stood in the backyard. Mariah wondered how securely it was wedged into the muddy bluff face. How much longer could it hold the child?
Jake hunkered down next to her, flat on his belly. His brow creased when he took in the child’s perilous situation.
“We could use a rope,” Mariah murmured.
“I’m not sure she can hold on long enough to go for one,” Jake replied, keeping his voice soft so the child couldn’t hear.
“Can you reach her if I hold on to your legs?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, but maybe we can haul the fencing up high enough that one of us can reach her.”
He slid on his belly until he lay just above the child’s precarious spot. Mariah scooted over beside him.
“Holly, my name is Mariah,” she called. “This is Jake. Can you hold on tight to that fence a little longer?”
“My fingers hurt!” Holly wailed.
“I know, but I need you to hold on real tight, okay? Jake’s going to pull the fence up now.”
“No!” the little girl cried in terror. “I’ll fall!”
“No, you won’t, Holly. Because you’re going to hold on just like you hold on to the monkey bars at school. You like to play on the monkey bars, don’t you?” Mariah said gently.
Holly nodded, then shrieked as the fencing shifted, dropping her down a half a foot.
Mariah’s heart skipped a beat. “Hold still, Holly. Let Jake do it all. You just hold on.”
Behind her, Holly’s mother was nearing hysterical, calling out her daughter’s name in a keening chant.
Jake slid forward until the top part of his torso hung out over the ravine. The dirt at the edge of the drop-off crumbled under his weight, shifting him farther forward than anticipated. He grabbed at the top chain links of the jutting fence to steady himself.
“Jake!” Mariah called, her heart stuttering.
“I’m okay,” he said, regaining his balance. He tugged at the chain-link fencing, as if testing its strength. Without the crossbar that would normally give it stability, it was remarkably fluid, since apparently whatever posts had once been connected to the links had fallen away long ago.
Mariah reached down and caught the top edge of the fencing to give Jake more leverage. “Ready, Holly?”
Holly stared up at them wordlessly.
“Let’s do it,” Jake said.
“Here we go. Hang on tight for me!” Mariah tugged at the piece of fencing, catching her breath as the part of the fence embedded into the earth worked completely loose. The rusty chain links dug into Mariah’s fingers as the child’s full weight hung from the dangling fencing.
Holly started crying softly.
“I’ve got you, Holly,” Jake called, quickly shifting one hand down until he caught a lower section of the fencing and pulled it up, bringing the little girl with it. Hand over hand, Mariah and Jake tugged the fencing upward, inches at a time, while Holly clung like a baby monkey to the metal links.
“Big, brave girl,” Mariah murmured as Jake finally tugged Holly’s small form within reach. Letting go of the fence, she wrapped her fingers tightly around the child’s tiny wrists.
Anchoring herself in the muddy yard with the toes of her sneakers, Mariah hauled the little girl up to the bluff’s edge in one sharp movement, rolling onto her back and bringing the girl the rest of the way to solid ground.
Holly clung to her for a second, until she caught sight of her crying mother. Scrambling up, she raced across the muddy yard and threw herself into her mother’s waiting arms.
Mariah pushed up onto her elbows, locking gazes with Jake, whose smile of relief and love brought tears stinging to her eyes. The rain obliterated them before she could blink them away, but the ever-present burn of guilt remained.
She had to tell him the truth. Somehow.
But not here. Not now.
As she eased to her feet, careful of the unstable edge, movement several yards behind the woman and her little girl caught her eye. A man stood at the edge of the property, staring at her with malevolent intensity that even the driving rain couldn’t obscure.
Victor.
Forgetting where she was, she took a faltering step backward. The soggy soil beneath her feet trembled under her weight. She stood very still, her gaze still locked on Victor as she waited for the ground to settle enough to dare a step away from the edge.
For a second, she thought it would hold. Then the ground fell out from beneath her, and she was plunging straight downward, the swirling flood waters looming up to meet her.
The last thing she heard before she entered the icy water was Jake’s voice howling her name.
Chapter Three
The world was dark and upside down.
Bleak and icy cold, the atmosphere closed in on Mariah in fetid waves, adding to the numbing shock that had already turned her arms and legs to flailing, useless appendages.
She hit something hard, shoulder-first, and realized she wasn’t as numb as she’d thought. As pain scorched along her nerve endings into her fuzzy brain, her head burst upward through the murk. She felt the sharp sting of air on her face and drew in a quick, sweet breath.
She saw something large looming toward her at an alarming rate of speed. She almost threw herself sideways to dodge it, until she realized it was a large, weathered tree trunk jutting out into the swollen creek bed. She braced herself, pulling her feet up so that her legs could cushion the impact. Her tennis shoes hit the trunk and she immediately bent her knees to absorb the hit, twisting toward the creek bank so that the rebound would push her toward land.
The ploy worked. Her back slid against the rock-strewn shoreline, shoulders digging into the mud. She grabbed handfuls of mud, anchoring herself, fighting against the swirling current. Her foot touched something hard—a rough boulder embedded in what had once been shoreline, though it was now underwater thanks to the flooding. She planted her feet on the rock, letting it help her stay in place.
Rain was falling in driving sheets, adding power
