Chapter 3
Brady divided his gaze between the rugged terrain in his path and the steep sides of the arroyo to his left. The driving rain obscured his vision, and the sight of the rushing water filled him with a queasy dread. Kara knew the dangers of flash flooding in the canyon areas, but knowing the danger and avoiding it were different matters. If she’d been hurt, she might not have been able to get out of the swift water’s perilous path.
“Kara!” A bracing wind cut through his soaked tuxedo jacket, and an icy chill shook him to the core. The predicted cold front was settling in quickly. Hypothermia was a serious threat if he couldn’t get her back to the ranch promptly. “Kara!”
Brady paused briefly and cut the engine in order to better listen for a response. But even without the rumbling ATV motor, the sounds of the storm and rushing water created a cacophony that drowned out nearly all other noises. “Kara!” he shouted again hearing the growing desperation in his voice.
He was about to crank the engine again, when a flash of color just ahead of him snagged his attention through the veil of gray rain. Scrambling off the ATV, Brady jogged closer to the edge of the arroyo for a better look. Squinting against the water dripping in his eyes and craning his neck for a better view of the cliff below him, he glimpsed a scrap of red cloth at the end of a branch.
His heart squeezed. “Kara!”
The branch that held the limp, wet fabric wiggled harder.
“I’m here!” The voice was unmistakably Kara’s.
He barely heard her response over nature’s din, but the thin sound was the sweetest he’d ever heard. He barked a laugh that was half joy and half relief as he ran along the top of the arroyo to get closer. When he was more directly above her, he lay on his stomach and inched to the edge of the cliff. “Kara, it’s Brady! I’m going to get you up from there, babe. Are you hurt?”
“Brady?” She sounded stunned, as if she’d had no faith that he would come for her. He shoved down the irritation and disappointment her lack of faith stirred in him. Right now, he had a job to do. There’d be time to debate his commitment to her and her lack of dedication to him after they were both safe and dry.
“Are you hurt?” he repeated more firmly.
“N-no. At least, nothing s-serious. Just c-cold.”
Nothing serious. That could mean anything coming from Kara. She’d broken her ankle during a rodeo event once and not let anyone know until after she’d hobbled around on it facing down angry bulls all evening.
“Stay put. I’ll be right back.” He winced at the inanity of his order as he scrambled back to the ATV. He could picture Kara rolling her eyes at him. Stay put? Where was she going to go?
He prayed they’d have the chance to laugh at his goof later that evening—maybe by a warm fire while they sipped a brandy and talked out their differences?
Well, one could hope.
He opened the toolbox on the back of the ATV and grabbed out everything he thought could be useful. With a rope draped over his shoulder and the rest of the items clutched to his chest, he hurried back to the edge of the ravine.
“Kara, I’m going to lower a rope to you.” But he needed an anchor to tie off to. Crud! What could he use? As he cast his gaze about, searching for a secure place to tie off, he called, “I want you to make a loop under your arms and knot it so it won’t slip. Okay?”
“Got it. Hurry! The water is rising fast!”
He rejected the ATV as an option. It might be heavier than Kara, but the wet ground didn’t provide solid traction. The nearest tree was several feet away, but he saw no better possibility.
Kara would have to climb out, away from her ledge, until she was in line with the tree. Risky, but if she was tied securely, he could pull her to safety even if she slipped.
He tied a wrench to the end of the rope to weight it and give it more direction when he tossed the end down. Lying on his stomach, he called to her again. “Kara, are you ready? Here’s the plan...”
“Climb away from the ledge?” she cried when he explained his intentions. “But if I lose my grip or...”
She didn’t finish, and her silence spoke volumes. Why didn’t she trust him? Didn’t she know he’d never suggest something that wasn’t what he believed to be the best solution?
He gritted his teeth and swallowed the bitter discouragement her hesitation caused. “Kara, I’ll get you up here, one way or another, but your climbing over toward the tree will make it easier and safer to pull you up.”
“I...I see that. It’s just—”
She paused, and he didn’t waste time on further hedging or second-guessing. “Get ready. I’m lowering the rope now.”
* * *
Kara bit her trembling bottom lip. She was immensely glad to have rescue from the icy cold and treacherous ledge, but having Brady as her white knight twisted bittersweet tendrils around her heart. The last thing she wanted was to be more vulnerable to Brady’s numerous charms. Gratitude and respect for his valiant assistance warred inside her with anxiety. His selflessness and heroic side were two of the qualities that had made her fall for him...and were why she’d had to leave him. He was so like her father in that way. Always the rescuer, the protector, the one risking his own life to help another. But that selfless heroism had cost her father his life, and she couldn’t bear the idea of losing another loved one to duty.
Still, she was eager to get out of her predicament and get home. Brady had seen fit to come to her aid, and she accepted that gift gratefully. Uncurling from her huddle against the cliff wall, she pushed onto her knees, shaking so hard from cold and fatigue she feared she might lose her balance and tumble into the swift water.
Pulse thundering in her ears, she eyed the rushing floodwater dubiously. One miscue could send her into that turbulent river. Like Daddy.
She swallowed the bitter taste that rose in the back of her throat and angled her gaze toward the top of the arroyo. When Brady tossed the rope down to her, she reached out to grab the end. She swiped a hand toward the dangling rope, but her groping hand came up empty. Even with the tool-weighed end swinging toward her, the overhang above her meant it hung just beyond her reach.
“I can’t r-reach it!” she called up to him, her teeth chattering. The chill of the wind and rain, along with the cold air that had arrived with the storm, had numbed her muscles enough that her movements felt stiff and clumsy. She stretched as far as she dared, but her balance was off, thanks to lost finesse and chill-muddled dexterity.
“Keep trying. I’ll swing it down again.” And he did. But she still couldn’t reach far enough to snare the dangling end.
Next, she tried using the branch she’d made her flag from to knock it closer. She had to hold the very end as she extended it out to the rope, but it was working...until her icy fingers fumbled her grip and the branch dropped into the roiling water below.
An anguished cry slipped from her throat, rife with both frustration and horror. The churning water swallowed the red scrap of fabric and whisked it away in
