Cowboy Christmas Rescue. Beth Cornelison
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Where had that thought come from? Leaving might have been painful, but it had been necessary to save herself from certain problems later on.
That’s a cop-out. You took the easy way out with Brady. You didn’t fight for him or for a workable compromise.
Kara growled her frustration and slapped a scraped palm on the cold, wet clay stone. Was this how she was going to spend the long hours until the waters receded or she was rescued? Mentally beating herself up over decisions she’d made out of self-preservation?
Brady bore his share of the blame for their breakup. Though she’d never told him the full story about her father’s death, he hadn’t acted interested in her reasons for her fears. Had he listened to her concerns about his appointment as sheriff, had he respected her opinions and valued her input, she wouldn’t have felt backed into a corner. She wouldn’t have—
Kara coughed as she inhaled the rainwater that sluiced down her face and dripped from her hair. The wind blew the steady downpour against her chilled skin and caused turbulent waves in the river that cascaded below her. She didn’t want to die like her father, sucked beneath the choppy waves of a fast-flowing current. Help me, Daddy!
The ache that had cleaved her heart for the past fifteen years swelled again and raked her soul. Seeing the rushing muddy water below her now brought all her worst fears from that night back to the fore of her mind.
“Stop it!” she scolded herself. She wouldn’t dwell on Brady or her father or the maniac sniper. She needed to stay positive, remain focused on the best way to stay alive and get back to town before she died of exposure.
Since the rain gave no indication of letting up anytime soon, and the water level of the flash flood in the arroyo kept rising, she knew she needed to find another way to the top of the cliff. Could she tear strips of her dress to make a rope and—
“Kara!” a male voice shouted in the distance.
Her heart stilled, and she held her breath until she heard the voice again.
“I’m here!” she yelled, “Help!” She pushed onto her feet, ignoring the sting of raw, chafed skin. The sound of an ATV grew louder, and tears of relief stung her eyes. But could she be seen here under the overhang?
Hastily she ripped a large piece of her red dress from the bottom hem and broke off a branch from a low-hanging cottonwood. After tying the scrap on the end of the stick, she waved her homemade flag and screamed louder. “Here! I’m down here! Help!”
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