The Western Dare (Harlequin Heartwarming) (27 page)

Then Emily felt the balloon tire rupture; she felt the metal rim grate on the rock outlining the precipice. In spite of the fact that she grappled with all her strength to turn the team, Megan bounced up and out of the wagon. She hung in the air a moment, then flew over the embankment.

The girl’s high cry of terror mingled with the sounds of panicked horses and Emily’s bloodcurdling scream.

Charged with a burst of adrenaline, Camp arrived at the ledge while several others, stunned by the accident, huddled, looking horrified. He threw himself flat to the ground. “Be careful. Stay back,” he warned Emily, who had somehow landed beside him.

“I’ll take care of Emily’s horses and wagon,” shouted Robert.

Inching forward so he could look down into the canyon, Camp gave thanks that his hastily muttered hopes were answered. Megan’s fall had been broken by a scrubby bush that grew on a narrow lip some fifty yards below. While Camp assessed the situation, she moved and tried to rub her elbow.

Camp cupped his hands around his mouth. “Lie still. Don’t move a muscle. Please, sweetheart. We’ll come after you real quick, I promise.”

Emily, flanked closely by Sherry and now Mark, let her shaking hands drop from her mouth. “She’s alive,” Emily gasped. “Oh, how will we get her? From here to there is a sheer drop!”

Camp scooted back. Cold fear licked at his veins. Another shot of dynamite would shake Megan off her precarious perch. Aware that time was the enemy, he scrambled to his feet. The first jolt of adrenaline had faded, leaving him hot and icy at the same time. All that prevented him from vomiting was the more immediate fear for Megan’s life. Even as he pulled Emily into a comforting embrace, he began to dispense orders like a drill sergeant. “Em, you and Sherry go tell those signalmen to radio ahead and stop blasting. Robert, bring the longest, sturdiest rope we’ve got. Jared, find a sound tree or a solid rock to lash it to.”

White-faced, Emily reached out and clutched Sherry’s hand. The two seemed in shock. Camp dredged up an encouraging smile.

“I’m going down,” he muttered out of Emily’s earshot. “Megan’s stuck on a narrow ledge that could give way at any time.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“All’s well that ends... Happy trails to you... Women can do anything!”

—Possible endings for
Nolan Campbell’s paper, uh...book?

C
AMP
WAITED
TO
talk rescue strategy with Robert Boone until Emily and Sherry had left on their mission. Thankfully, the schoolteachers diverted Brittany’s and Mark’s attention as Maizie ran up carrying three ropes. Camp, who’d never been in the Boy Scouts or the navy, tied them solidly into one. He wouldn’t let anyone else touch them.

“You ever done any rappelling, boy?” Maizie asked.

Camp shook his head. “Have you?”

“Nope. Why don’t we wait to see if that blasting crew can helicopter in a team of paramedics? We don’t need two casualties.”

Camp’s gaze never wavered. “You know how wiggly kids are. All that’s holding her is one unhealthy-
looking creosote bush. If I didn’t try and Megan fell, how could I ever face Emily?”

“If you two don’t beat all. Maybe after this you’ll quit square dancing and admit you’re crazy about each other.”

He’d already done that. The problem was Emily’s. And everything hinged on the girl stuck on a ledge. The feisty, pretty, scared kid who needed his help. In the silence that followed, Camp knotted the rope around his waist. He concentrated on the task ahead, oblivious to the ring of pasty faces watching his every move.

Jeff, Lyle, the college reporter and the pair from Philadelphia, stood apart from those involved in the rescue attempt.

Robert twisted the rope securely around a sturdy boulder. Slipping on a pair of leather gloves, he braced his feet, looped the sisal around his shoulders and prepared to play it out a little at a time for Camp’s descent.

Just before Camp stepped over the side into midair, he saw Jeff Scott align himself with Robert. Oddly enough, the big man from Philadelphia did the same.
Well, would wonders never cease?

As Camp dangled in space, grabbing at a bush here and there to keep from bouncing off the granite wall, his mind raced on fast-forward. What if Megan had broken bones? Or internal injuries? Camp worried that maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to play hero. Moving her might do permanent harm. He wasn’t a paramedic. He couldn’t even heal a cut on his leg!

On the other hand, he’d already heard her happy cry, probably at the sight of any warm body coming to her rescue. Besides, it didn’t make sense to let her wait alone until help from another avenue could arrive.

Camp was close enough for Megan to guide his landing. “Swing left. Can you grab that skinny bush?”

“Thanks. Will I have a ledge to stand on?”

“Some. Boy, am I glad to see you! Standing up in the wagon was pretty dumb, huh?”

“You’re outta rope, Campbell,” Robert yelled from above. His voice echoed back to Camp three times from a yawning cavern below.

Camp settled his feet securely on the thin shelf before answering. “It’s okay, Robert. I’m down. Just give me time to catch my breath and check Megan over.”

“You got it.”

Again the muffled echo seemed to leapfrog spookily in space. Something in the way the outcrop on which he stood sheared off sharply, and the way blue sky and jagged rock formations tilted crazily every time he looked down, shifted Camp’s pulse into high gear. He hung on to the rope, worried that he’d pass out.

“Can I sit up now?” Megan begged. “Oh...” the young voice quavered. “You only got one rope. How’re we both gonna get to the top?”

Trying to get over feeling as if he was Spider-Man stuck on a vertical wall, Camp could manage only a lame chuckle. “Good question, Megan.” He couldn’t believe that with so many creative minds topside, no one had thought of that very important detail. “We were all too shaken by your nosedive to think clearly. Anyway, don’t sit until I decide if it’s safe to move you. Is there space for me to kneel?”

“I can’t see too good. But if you turn a little toward me, maybe there is. Just be careful. The rocks are sharp.”

They were more than sharp; they were knife-edged. And slippery. As Camp turned slowly, his boot slid on loose shale. One rock shot over the lip. They heard it ping off the cliff wall—followed by one distant thump, then another. After that, no noise at all but the sigh of the wind. Sweat popped out on Camp’s forehead.

“Wow. Must be a long ways down.” Megan’s shaky voice barely rose above a whisper.

“Don’t think of that,” Camp ordered. “Your mom’ll kill me if I don’t get you back in one piece.”

“I guess she probably went ballistic, huh?”

Camp read guilt in the girl’s tone, but at least her volume was stronger. His own heart had almost stopped the minute she’d flown over that embankment. He’d come within seconds of hurling himself over the precipice, filled with visions of snatching Emily’s daughter back with his bare hands. If that was the description of ballistic, then it wasn’t just a mom thing. “Your mom, Mark, me, everyone was scared to death. So let’s give you a look-see, then figure out how to lift you out.”

Camp did a check of Megan’s extremities. She had a scrape on her cheek that was already beginning to bruise. Her left arm and hand were scratched. Not deep, and the blood had already dried. There was a ragged tear in her shirt and another in her jeans. But as Camp gently tested each joint, Megan didn’t yelp with pain. “Do you hurt inside? Stomach? Chest?”

She shook her head.

“Your back? Your neck? I need the truth, Megan.”

“I hurt, but I can wiggle my toes...and my ears.” Red-tinted lips curved in a cheeky grin.

Tipping his face toward the row of faces peering over the rim, he shouted, “No serious injuries. When I give three pulls on the rope, it means I’ll be sending her up.”

“Yo!” was the single word that drifted down.

Megan dragged a grimy wrist across her nose and sniffed loudly. “You mean I’ve gotta go up alone?”

Camp, who suddenly felt a stab of vertigo, said curtly, “You didn’t have company on the trip down, did you?”

“N-n-no.” Huge tears spilled from eyes very like Emily’s. “But then I didn’t have time to think about falling. I just did.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. You’ve been very brave. Hang tough a little longer.”

“O-kay.”

His fingers were so slippery with sweat that Camp had a hard time untying the knots he had so carefully fashioned. The minute he freed the rope from around his waist, he underwent an odd sense of impotence. Standing there defenseless, Camp had a flash of insight. He knew exactly what he’d write. It would have nothing to do with who was stronger, man or woman. But rather how it took everyone working together for people to build on what they’d learned, to survive. That was what the pioneers’ quest had been about.

“It’s time,” Camp muttered. “Let’s hoist you back to your mom so she’ll breathe easy.” Using the utmost care, he twined the crudely fashioned harness around Megan’s narrow chest. Repeatedly, he checked the strength of the knots he’d tied.

“I know you didn’t have to come after me,” she said, clutching his hand.

He gave the second of the two sharp tugs on the rope. “Of course I did. I love your mother, Megan. Everything about her. And that includes you kids.” He felt compelled to hug the girl awkwardly and to say, “Tell her for me again, will you?”

“I’m scared. Please, come with me and we’ll both tell her.”

“Too much weight for those guys to handle.” Camp gave the last yank. “Once you’re up, they’ll toss the rope back down for me.” He tried to straighten from his crouched position—to help guide her away from the first outcrop of rocks as the rope tightened and slowly began to lift her from the ledge. A sharp pain knifed through his calf. It hurt so badly it threw him off balance. He let go of Megan and grabbed at his leg. Releasing her allowed the rope to arc. Her feet struck his shoulder, interfering with his already weak hold on the bush. A brittle twig broke off in his hand. Camp felt both his boots slipping.

“Oof.” He flailed for a handhold but grasped only air. Megan’s scream floated above and below him. His death knell, he thought as wind rushed past his ears. But he wasn’t ready to go until he heard Emily admit that she loved him. His feet connected with rock. Then his knees did. Then his head. Sky, sun and visions of Emily’s smile converged in darkness.

* * *

“M
AMA
,
MAMA
,” Megan shrieked as several sets of hands hauled her out of thin air onto solid ground. “Oh, Mama,” she sobbed as Emily’s strong arms enveloped her, “he...Camp fell off the ledge. We’ve got to help him. We’ve just got to.”

The group that pressed in on the rescued girl splintered. Robert, Sherry and Maizie ran to the precipice, flopped prone and draped their heads over the edge.

“Nolan,” Sherry called frantically. They heard nothing but the squawk of a bird and the rattle of wind rustling through scrub cedar dotting the hillside. Sherry’s voice, uneven with panic, wafted right and left as her brother’s name danced around the canyon.

Then...nothing.

Robert cupped his mouth with his hands and yodeled Camp’s name three times. The results were the same. Mocking echoes.

Tears coursed down Megan’s cheeks. “Mama, he said he loved you. And Mark and me...hateful as I’ve been. It’s my fault. He didn’t have to help me—but he did.”

Mark clung to his sister’s arm and to his mother’s hand. Emily noticed that he stoically refused to cry, while she had no defense against the tears that filled her heart and clouded her vision.

“Well,” she said, forcing her focus on the next logical step. “Hunt up more rope and a first-aid kit. Camp needs us. I’m going down.”

Maizie placed a gnarled hand on Emily’s arm. “We’ll tell those men to order up a medivac chopper out of Santa Fe pronto. It oughta reach us before dark.”

Emily retreated behind a determined smile. “We’re wasting time.”

“Em, for crying out loud.” Sherry waded through the thicket of people clustered around her friend. “He’s my brother, but I agree with Maizie. We already know a chopper is on its way. They ordered it for Megan. Oh, sure, I talked big, bragging that modern women are as capable as the pioneers—but what you’re proposing...Em, listen to me. This is a job for professionals.”

“Save your breath, Sherry,” Lyle Roberts snorted. “Look at her eyes. The woman is crazy.”

“Crazy in love with Camp,” Robert said. “C’mon, Jared...Mark. Let’s scout out extra rope.”

The three left at once.

Sherry stared at Emily, and feelings of desolation stirred alarmingly in her breast. Her brother and her best friend. Suddenly she felt like an outsider. As if she’d stumbled into emotions she knew nothing about. Perhaps there was time. Most of the women she met through her job suffered from the negative fallout of having loved unwisely. Emily had been one of those women—and she was a counselor, too.

The thought of Nolan with Emily meant she’d have to reexamine all her ideas and beliefs. But that shouldn’t matter, she told herself. Not as long as her brother survived this.

Racked with uncertainty, bereft, sick with worry, Sherry crept off to wait alone.

Robert and the boys returned with seven sturdy lengths of rope. Maizie’s son knotted them, testing each one. After he’d finished and the rope lay coiled neatly at the foot of a strong cedar, Emily stepped into the harness that’d served both Camp and Megan. Donning gloves, she shrugged off the anxiety she felt emanating from the silent watchers.

Maizie draped a small pair of binoculars around Emily’s neck. “Time to call a spade a spade, girl. We don’t have any idea how far he fell. If you haven’t found him by the time the rope’s played out, use the glasses to try to get a fix on him. Memorize landmarks. Maybe save the rescue team shootin’ in the dark.”

A chill swept over Emily. The combined weight of the binoculars and the first-aid kit clipped to her belt seemed to press in on her, causing panic. Then her two children stepped up and hugged her.

“It’s kinda scary swinging out there. But these guys won’t let you fall.” Megan gazed with trust at the men handling the rope. “I know Camp will feel lots better having you there. He can’t have fallen far, Mom. We heard a rock tumble and bump forever. But there weren’t any echoes when Camp fell. Only one bump.”

Emily stored that information. “Just promise me you kids will stay back from the edge.” She trailed a loving hand down their earnest faces. After they nodded, Brittany Powers, of all people, stepped forward, saying the three of them would go recheck the whereabouts of that medivac helicopter. And Emily knew it was time to go.

She’d watched rappelling on TV. That was how she went over the edge. Feet flat against the granite wall, facing those she left behind.

“Good luck,” called Gina. “Tell that lunkhead to hurry back here and collect the best data sheets yet. Tell him I won’t even charge him for the pictures if he decides to write a book.”

A smile found its way to Emily’s lips. She was thankful for Gina. Emily no longer suffered the niggle of fear that had been eating at her insides. She would find Camp alive. He had an unfinished mission—to write this story. To tell the truth about men and women—modern and pioneer.

Foot by foot she sank into the canyon. She breathed easier after passing the ledge that’d broken Megan’s fall. Below that, a grassy slope about four feet wide curved into a bulwark of rocks. Emily saw now that it was a catacomb of caves. Unexpectedly her rear, descending ahead of her legs, struck bedrock. The blow was sharp enough to bring tears to her eyes. As the rope coiled over her knees, Emily glanced around and saw Camp’s crumpled form about three feet below her and off to the right. He lay facedown, half in, half out of a granite cave. He lay as still as death. Except for a splash of red that ran from his forehead to his chin, his face was devoid of color.

Emily’s heart banged in her chest. Her pulse sounded like a thundering waterfall in her ears. The red was blood. Some dried. Some fresh. She barely had the wherewithal enough to lift her hands to her mouth and yell in a shaky voice, “Stop the rope. I’ve found him.” She recognized her own fright in the echoing words, the reverberations circling like vultures. By the time Robert’s question concerning Camp’s condition floated down to her, Emily had steeled herself for the worst and scrambled on her hands and knees to press three bare fingers against Camp’s jugular. She paid scant attention to the sharp rocks that ripped through her jeans and her gloves. The joy she experienced on feeling a thready pulse overrode all discomfort.