if exhausted movements.
Carter found himself grinning, overjoyed that she was all right, glad he would be able to take good news back to the Whitehorse Community Center.
Now that he knew she was alive, though, he wanted to wring her neck. What the hell had she been thinking riding out like that yesterday afternoon? Maybe more to the point, what was she doing down in that ravine to begin with?
“I’ve found her,” he said into the two-way radio. “She looks like she’s all right. I’m going down to get her out. Bring the horse to the top of the ravine.” He gave a reading from his GPS.
Titus Cavanaugh came back over the radio an instant later, sounding equally relieved. “We’re not far from you. Glad to hear the good news.”
Carter dismounted and, taking his pack with his rescue gear, started to work his way down the rocky slope. His earlier exhilaration at seeing that she was alive was dampened at the thought of what her reaction would be to seeing him. It had been years, but he doubted she would have forgotten the way things had ended between them.
Eve had taken off for college right after high school graduation and he hadn’t seen her since. He knew she’d come back for holidays to see her parents and sisters, but she’d made a point of avoiding him. And since he lived in Whitehorse, he’d had no reason to go out of his way to see her.
In fact, the way even the mention of Eve set Deena off, he’d stayed as far away as he could from Old Town—and Eve Bailey.
He was pretty sure Eve hated him. Not that he could blame her. Or maybe she hadn’t given him a thought since the day she left.
He wished he could say the same.
As he cut off her ascent up the rocky ravine, he realized he was nervous about seeing her. This was crazy. Hell, it had been years. She’d probably forgotten that night in the front seat of his old Chevy pickup behind her parents’ barn.
Just then she looked up and he knew Eve hadn’t forgotten— or forgiven him.
Chapter Four
Eve Bailey looked up at the sound of small loose rocks cascading down the side of the ravine. For a moment, she was blinded by the sun and thought she had imagined the dark silhouette of a man working his way down the slope toward her.
But she would have recognized Sheriff Carter Jackson just by the way he moved even if she hadn’t seen the glint of the star on his uniform shirt. Her breath caught at the sight of him. Surprise, then that old chest-aching pain kicked in before she could vanquish it with anger.
“Stay there,” he called down to her in a deep voice that had once done more than made her poor heart pitter-patter.
She defied her heart to beat even a second faster at the sound of his voice as she stopped to get control of herself. Wasn’t that just her luck? Rescued by the one person on earth she’d never wanted to lay eyes on again.
She leaned against one of the large rocks, not wanting to admit how glad she was to see another human being, though. She felt weak with relief. That and hunger and dehydration and exhaustion. She hadn’t let herself even consider what she would do once she reached the top of the ravine. She’d have had miles more to walk and, the truth was, she would have never made it, and she knew it.
She wanted to sit down and cry, she was so relieved. But why did her rescuer have to be Carter Jackson? When she’d come home, she’d known she would see him eventually. Whitehorse was too small for her not to run into him.
But the last thing she wanted was for him to see her like this, at her most vulnerable. With Carter, she needed all her defenses, and right now she couldn’t have felt more defenseless.
She pushed off the rock, determined not to show any weakness as she started to climb again.
Moving had kept her alive. She was cold and hurt and barely able to keep going. But she’d known that with her clothing still damp, if she’d stopped she would have died. It had been a realistic fear given the temperature earlier this morning and the fact that even with the sun now blazing down, she couldn’t seem to get warm.
But there was another reason she’d kept moving. She didn’t want to think about what she’d discovered down in the ravine. She shivered at the memory of what she’d had to do to survive. That was her, Eve Bailey, the survivor. Isn’t that what she’d heard her whole life? Just like her mother, she thought bitterly.
The climb down the cliff from the plane had been harrowing. She’d fallen more than once, her hands raw, her left ankle killing her.
All she’d known was that she had to find a way down, then back up out of the Breaks no matter how long it took. Given that the crashed plane had apparently never been discovered, she’d figured there was little chance of anyone finding her unless she got off that rock ledge.
She’d been sure it would be days before anyone even realized she was missing, since she lived alone and doubted anyone had seen her ride out yesterday afternoon. Mostly, she worried about her horse. The mare would have gotten out of the storm, but where was she now? Eve loved that horse and couldn’t bear it if something had happened to her.
A shadow fell over her. She stopped climbing and looked up, having lost track of time again.
Sheriff Carter Jackson stood on the rocks just above her, his hand outstretched. She didn’t look at his face as she reluctantly took his hand and let him pull her up onto a large flat rock, too tired to protest. Her legs gave out and she sat down hard, no longer strong enough to even pretend she was tougher than she was.
Without a word, Carter slipped off his backpack and, opening it, handed her a bottle of water.
“Have you seen my horse? Is she all right?” Eve asked before taking a drink, a catch in her throat.
“Your horse is fine. She returned to the ranch this morning. That’s what started the search for you.”
“Just like Lassie,” she said, near tears, and took a long gulp of the water to hide her relief.
“Just like Lassie,” he said with a smile. “Her tracks led us to you.”
She kept her focus on the water bottle, furious that all it took to transport her back to their senior year in high school was his smile. She could feel him studying her, his look gentle, concerned. Just as he’d been the night he took her virginity in his old pickup behind her family’s barn.
Her hands were shaking, legs trembling, the past twenty-four hours taking their toll. Behind her eyes, she could feel tears welling up. She hurt all over, some of those bruises from years ago and her last encounter with Carter Jackson.
She bit her lip and took another drink as she heard him dig in his pack again. Was he thinking about that night in his pickup? More than likely he was thinking what a fool she’d been to ride so far without water or food, let alone proper clothing.
“Here,” he said, and handed her a candy bar.
She took the candy, struggling with the wrapper, her fingers refusing to work properly.
Covering her with his shadow, Carter leaned down to take the candy bar from her, ripped the paper open and handed the bar back to her without a word.
“Thanks.”
