Cowboy Christmas Rescue: Rescuing the Witness / Rescuing the Bride

“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 seconds. She shuddered, knowing the same would happen to her if she fell. The violent current would toss and twist her body like a rag doll. Suck her under...like Daddy.

“Kara?” Brady’s voice jerked her attention from the turbulent flash flood.

“It’s t-too far out. I can’t g-get it.”

“You have to, Kara! Keep trying!” His voice sounded more frustrated than encouraging.

She hated the idea of admitting defeat. Disappointment plucked hard. “No d-dice, Brady. It’s too f-far away.”

She heard his muffled curse and shared his frustration. Dispirited, she flopped back on her bottom, and her shoulders drooped. Hugging herself and trying to chafe warmth into her arms, she pushed aside the failure and regrouped. Think! What else could they do?

“Fine. I’m coming down,” he called.

She frowned and gave her head a little shake. Surely she’d heard him wrong. “Wh-what did you say?”

“I’m coming down to you. Just give me a minute to get tied on.”

Kara’s chest tightened, and her blood pressure spiked. “Brady, no! It’s too dangerous. There must be another way!”

“You have a better idea? ’Cause I’m all ears. Meantime we’re wasting daylight, and that water’s getting higher.”

She wished she could see him, could discuss their options face-to-face rather than shouting blindly, their voices drowned out by the wind, cascading runoff and pounding rain. But even more, she wished she had an idea that didn’t involve Brady shimmying down a rope in these horrid conditions to save her. “Brady, wait. We can’t—”

The scuffling sound of loose rock preceded a shower of gravel and mud, knocked loose from above. Her heartbeat scampered frantically. “Be careful! Brady, I—”

He grumbled and cursed, and the dangling rope shook and swayed. More loose red clay stone tumbled down near her, and she balled her hands in fists against her chest. Leaning out slightly, she craned her neck to glance up. She saw Brady’s boots, his black tuxedo pants streaked with red mud as he rappelled down the sheer rock. The rope was twined around his leg and over his shoulder in a strange configuration of loops and knots. Though Brady was a champion bull rider and calf roper, rock climbing was not part of his resume.

Tension twisted inside her as he inched downward. “Brady, please!”

But she wasn’t sure what her plea was. For him to be careful? For him to abandon his idea and climb back up? For him to hurry and get her to safety? All of the above.

She held her breath as he eased closer. A few inches, then a few more. Letting out a length of rope, he slid down a foot, then another. His feet kicked at the rock wall, slipping and scrabbling for purchase. Each time he descended, she bit back a gasp, praying the rope would tighten and catch him.

Finally he was eye-level with her, and the sight of his black hair plastered to his head, the rain spiking the sooty eyelashes around his piecing blue eyes, burrowed deep in her soul. Here was the man she’d loved so dearly, braving the elements of this nasty storm and going to great lengths to bring her safely home. She wanted to cry for what she’d given up, for all he meant to her and for the desperate longing to throw caution to the wind in order to spend the rest of her life with him. “Oh, Brady, I’m sorry. I—”

A sob choked her, and he shook his head.

“There’ll be time for that later.” He canted toward her, and the rope creaked. “Grab on. Take my wrist, and I’ll get yours.”

“I—” She edged closer to him and held out her hand.

“Come on, Kara. A little closer.”

She glanced down at the rushing water, at the sizeable gap from the edge of the outcropping to the rope. She wanted to trust him, but simply giving him her hand didn’t solve the dilemma of the distance between them.

When she hesitated, he stretched toward her, putting himself at a precarious angle.