Heartstealer (Women of Character)

§ chapter Fourteen §

"So things seem to be going well for you, Jacie?" Brad asked.

Jacie looked over at him, having been lost in thoughts of Sloan. "Yes."

Brad didn’t look like he’d had a good night’s rest. He hadn’t shaved and looked pretty rough. She felt a moment’s sympathy but knew Brad’s problems were of his own making.

"Here we are," she said with relief, casting a worried glance at the sky. It had gradually become overcast, the sky a sullen gray. "You start looking here along this area and I’ll check over by the ledge."

She dismounted, dropped her horse’s reins and walked over to the ledge. The quicker she began looking the quicker she could get back to Sloan.

She could see fog creeping up the wall of rock. She had never seen fog roll along the ground like it did in the Catskills.

After an hour, she was convinced they wouldn’t find it. It had been barely two hours since she had left Sloan, yet she hadn't been able to stop thinking of him, their lovemaking, the entire night of loving. Lord! How could it have been so wonderful, so perfect?

"There's no way we'll find anything out here," she muttered, looking around for Brad. Jacie suddenly noticed a figure appear out of the woods.

Bonnie walked towards her across the field. She had never seen her dressed so casually in jeans, T-shirt and hiking boots.

"Bonnie," she said, "how did you get here so quickly? Where did you park your car?"

"That’s not important."

"We couldn’t find the necklace."

Bonnie shot her a surprised look. "We?"

Jacie saw Brad climb up from a small ledge. "I looked down over the ledge," he said, "but I doubt we’ll find it." He looked at Bonnie in surprise.

Bonnie said angrily. "Why is he here?"

"What’s going on?" Jacie said suspiciously.

Bonnie stepped back from them and pulled her hand out from behind her back. She held a small gun.

"Geez! Bonnie!" Brad said, horrified.

Jacie stepped back, fear a huge tightness in her throat.

"You’ve ruined everything. I wasted months of my life on you," Bonnie spat.

Jacie put her head back, comprehension dawning. "It was you all along." She looked around quickly but the area was wide open, there was nowhere to run.

"You’re both fools!" Bonnie said. She turned to Jacie. "You’ve jeopardized his life by bringing him out here."

Jacie tried to keep her terror in check. The hard, angry glitter in Bonnie’s eyes held her transfixed. "Is this about the money?" She needed to buy time.

"I set it all up. I’ve got the withdrawal papers ready, my passport, and you’re still walking around."

"Angel Falls," Jacie said in a low voice.

Bonnie laughed. "You two! Taking stupid chances in a foreign country. You made it so easy."

"You weren’t there," Brad said, edging closer.

Bonnie pointed the gun at him and he stopped. "I didn’t have to be," she said contemptuously. "I had somebody on the inside."

"And they tampered with my equipment," Jacie said, realizing Sloan had been right.

The woman she had considered a friend gave her a cold smile.

"Even if you kill me, you won’t get the money," Jacie said.

"Don’t you worry, I’ve always had a talent for signatures. Did you know you'd made a Last Will and Testament leaving everything to your best friend?" She laughed. "It’s going to show up fully executed in your belongings." Bonnie looked contemptuously at Brad. "We’re a lot alike. You wanted the money too, but when they find you two dead, they’re going to think there was a struggle and you tried to kill Jacie. If they ever figure out it wasn’t him, I’ll be long gone and a bit richer." She pointed the gun directly at Jacie. "Back up toward the ledge."

Jacie's stomach heaved with fright, but she didn’t move.

"Do it," Bonnie snarled.

"No!" Brad said, lunging toward her.

The gun discharging rent the air, echoing around them. Bonnie and Brad struggled for the weapon, stumbling back toward the ledge. Another shot sounded.

Jacie heard Brad’s grunt of pain. She ran to him as he doubled over and fell on the ground.

"Back away." Bonnie pointed the gun at her.

Jacie knelt beside Brad. Blood poured from his thigh. Turning her head, she saw the horses held their heads high in the air, startled and quivering. A low rumbling began, like thunder in the distance. A heightened sense of danger knifed through her. "It's the herd." She could see a rising cloud of dust just beyond a small knoll.

"Shut up."

"They're stampeding," Jacie insisted. "We have to get away from the ledge. We have to run toward the trees!"

Bonnie looked back at the approaching herd. Alarm finally registered on her face.

Jacie tried to get Brad up, but in seconds, she knew it was useless. The cattle were running full bore toward them now, the width and breadth of the herd making it impossible for them to reach the trees and possible safety. They would be caught in the middle of the stampede.

Bonnie darted past them, running across the field.

She pulled Brad closer to the ledge as the first animal raced by. She was conscious of the sheer drop a mere three feet from where they were. She looked out across the herd but she couldn’t see Bonnie.

There was nowhere to go. The cattle edged closer, hooves pounding the earth. Dust rose chokingly.

At a certain moment, she knew death was imminent. There was nowhere to go but down, down over the ledge into the ravine.

With dread, she watched the cattle shift almost as one, pushing them further toward the edge.

Jacie helped Brad as he tried to rise. Almost in slow motion, he fell to his knees. She clawed at him as he lost his balance and slid part way off the ledge.

Landing brutally hard on her stomach, she managed to grab the back of Brad’s shirt. Spots jumped before her eyes as she hung onto him. Brad’s fingers clawed the dry earth, trying to grab onto something, anything.

"Hold―hold still, Brad―" Even as she gasped the words, she felt the shirt rip from her fingers. "Brad!"

He fell from sight.

Disbelieving, she closed her eyes. "Oh, my God!"

The ledge beneath her trembled, a portion of it crumbling away. When she realized she too was going to fall, she tried to scramble backwards. Shards of stone bit into her flesh as the ground gave away. She held on a moment, her arms on the sandy ledge. Her legs dangled as she attempted to find a foothold.

An awful emptiness filled her as time seemed to stand still. She felt herself falling.

Ω

Sloan looked into the office and found James inside. "Have you seen Jacie?" he asked.

Looking up from his paperwork, James looked at the clock on the wall. "She was in the barn this morning, about two hours ago. Renee said she and Carlton were going for a ride. I don't know if they're back yet."

"Jacie went for a ride?" Uneasily, Sloan thought it was odd. He hadn't been happy that Jacie was gone when he woke, but the note she’d left had made him smile and he knew he'd see her at some point that morning.

"I'll see if anyone knows their whereabouts." He looked at his watch, an unfamiliar twisting in his gut. He left the office and strode outside.

"Sloan! Sloan!" Michelle rode furiously across the parking lot. Her horse slowed and he grabbed the animal's reins. Looking into her alarmed face, that sickening fear grew worse.

"I was riding along the road pasture...two gun shots...the cattle stampeded..."

An icy wave enveloped him. "I had them penned. Is anybody out there?"

"I don't know, but two horses came back―"

Dread consolidated into a hard knot.

"―without riders," Michelle finished breathlessly.

He felt as if he'd been punched. "Jacie." He didn't know he’d said it aloud until he saw the alarm darken Michelle's eyes.

James appeared beside him and gripped his shoulder. "Sloan, what's going on?"

He turned to his brother. "You know how jumpy the herd's been, well somebody's been shooting and the cows have stampeded. Jacie may be out there...and Carlton."

He took off at a run toward the barns, James beside him. "Get in touch with the Sheriff's office and call around for extra help. You'd better set up a search party. I want every available horse saddled and ready to go."

At the barn he led his horse from the stall and quickly slid the bridle on.

"Sloan!" Michelle called, "Your saddle―"

"No time." Bareback, he urged his horse in a canter, his thoughts on Jacie. Nausea churned his stomach. He couldn't lose her. He had just found her. He couldn't lose her.

Ω

Jacie lay without moving, eyes almost closed as she faced the dull grey sky. Slowly, her brain assimilated information. She had fallen and so had Brad. A heavy damp fog hung everywhere.

"Help!" she called out. Her voice sounded weak as it echoed around the stone ledges.

Her face and clothes were damp. She felt chilled. All around her was a strange, ethereal quiet. Shards of rock and debris showered down on her. Moving carefully, she managed to sit up, groaning as every muscle in her body protested. Pain burned like a brand between her shoulders, but she was alive. What about Brad?

"Brad!"

She heard a sound, like a groan. Biting her lips, she pulled herself on her elbows to the edge of the rocky precipice.

Lying on her stomach, she could see a figure on a ledge below her. She could not see Brad's face. He lay unmoving and appeared to almost blend into the rock. Drifting fog made it almost impossible to see anything.

"Brad!" she called, "I'm above you." She rolled to her side, glad there was no pain to indicate cracked or broken ribs. She had been lucky, she decided, looking upwards. Sort of.

She wondered how long they had been here. She remembered the horses and felt a ray of hope. When they returned alone, someone would come. Except that no one knew where they were, except Bonnie. What had happened to her?

Sloan. She groaned. He would be worried. Why hadn't she stayed with him this morning? None of this would have happened.

Rain began to fall gently. She had to figure out a way to safety.

Brad could die from exposure. That thought made her stand up. She did so carefully, wondering if the ledge she stood on was secure. With the exception of an overall soreness, she didn't think she had broken anything.

Looking up, she scanned the ledge. Going down was impossible, she knew it was a sheer drop. The way out was up.

"Brad!" she shouted. "I'm going to climb out. I'll be back."

There was no answer. He had lost a lot of blood, he could be in shock.

She chewed her lip nervously. She had never attempted rock climbing without the proper ropes, and if she fell again, this time she probably wouldn't be so lucky.

All she knew was she had to get out. Blanking her mind to any fear, she flattened herself against the craggy rock and began to climb.

Carefully, she searched for toe and finger holds, prayer like a litany upon her lips.

Jacie lay a moment, hardly caring that her cheek rested against caked mud, glad of the bits of grass tickling her nose. It was a brief respite, she knew she must push on, but she needed just a moment to rest.

She wasn't sure how late it was. The day was dark and the fog looked to have enveloped everything. The air was so heavy it felt like wet wool clinging to her clothes. She rolled onto her side, conscious of her burning fingertips.

Brad.

She stood. It had been a long, hard climb out of the ravine; it had seemed a lifetime. She looked around and tried to get her bearings. Staggering, she started across the field. It was a muddy quagmire from the rain and what the cattle had churned up.

It had rained most of the day and she was past cold. Her throat felt raw from yelling. She had given up on that quickly, concentrating instead on not falling. The closer she had gotten to the top, the harder the climb became.

Bemused, she put a hand to her temple. The day had begun so differently. She had been so content and filled with thoughts of Sloan. . ..

God! He probably thought she had fallen from the face of the earth. With a grim smile, she conceded they almost had.

A noise broke the silence, startling in its suddenness. Twin beams of light cut across the pasture. She forced her legs to move as she waved her arms.

Bright light sliced across her and just as suddenly an engine accelerated. The lights jumped wildly as the truck raced across the uneven pasture.

Such enormous relief welled she couldn't stop the moisture burning her lids. Somehow, she knew it had to be Sloan.

Sloan brought the vehicle to a sliding halt in the slick mud. The lights pierced the fog eerily, silhouetting Jacie’s filthy bedraggled figure in the arc of light.

He jerked the door open and jumped from the truck. In the next instant he enfolded her in his arms. It felt like forever since he had held her this close. She was shivering and fell into him.

"Sloan," she said hoarsely.

"Jacie! I've been out of my mind. We’ve been out on horseback all day. Since dark I’ve been driving all over, hoping to find a clue, anything. We didn’t know where to look. Did you get caught here when the herd spooked?"

She pulled back and tugged him toward the edge. "Brad's down there, Sloan. He's still down there."

"Sweetheart, come sit in the truck before you collapse." He urged her over to the truck and the open driver door. She slid onto the vinyl seat. Jerking his sweatshirt off, he placed it over her head and pulled her arms through the armholes. "You’re frozen." He pulled a wool blanket from behind the truck seat and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Thanks, that feels wonderful."

He picked up his cell phone on the dashboard and quickly dialed the rescue number, all the while keeping an eye on her. She leaned her head back against the headrest, her eyes closed.

Suddenly, she lifted her head. "Brad's down over the edge," she said, her voice stronger. She jumped down from the truck seat and he gripped her arm.

"Hang on. Where are you going?"

"We have to get him out, he’s been shot."

"Shot!"

She squinted in the dim light at her watch. "The crystal's broken. I don't know how long, since this morning."

Sloan put his arms around her shoulders, feeling like he couldn’t get her close enough. He felt the tremble in his own arms. "What the hell has happened and how do you know he’s down there?" He put her at arm's length and ran his glance over her more thoroughly. The mud on her shirt was soaking through the sweatshirt and her jeans had holes in the knees.

"What happened to you?"

"We both fell down the ledge."

"You fell?" He lowered his voice, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to start yelling. "How did you fall. . .how did you get out? It's almost sheer ledge."

"The herd."

"I've been out of my mind, wondering where you could be. I couldn't pick up a track with the rain. I don't want to tell you the things going through my head. I don’t want to go through that hell again."

She gripped his arm tightly. "It was Bonnie all along. She was after the money. She came back here expecting to find only me. Brad tried to get the gun away from her and she shot him. The shots spooked the cattle and our horses took off. The ledge beneath us crumbled―"

Sloan tried to follow the rapid words.

"Brad fell and then I fell." She took a deep breath and her voice evened out a degree. "I managed to climb out, but that's not important now, we have to get Brad."

"It damn well is important. This isn't over," he promised with a growl.

"What can we do?"

"I called search and rescue. I’ll notify James we found you and have the police come to this area. Where did Bonnie go?"

"She must have made it across the field before we were forced to the edge."

"They can track her down later. It will take at least fifteen minutes for a rescue team to arrive."

"I'm worried about Brad. The rawness of the air...it's getting colder. Can we lower a rope, maybe make a sling?" she asked hopefully.

"I’ll tie a rope to the truck winch and lower myself over the edge."

"No. He unconscious, you'll never find him. We can save precious time if I go back down. I can cover him if you have a blanket. When the paramedics arrive I can show them where he is."

"No."

"Yes." Urgently, she grabbed his sleeve. "I have to. I know where he is. Besides, we're wasting time arguing."

"You look as if you’ve been through hell. You might be suffering a concussion. I won't chance it."

"I can do it," she insisted fiercely. "I came up over the top without any lines, I can go back down with a rope. If you're worried about concussion, check my eyes, whatever, but hurry."

He swore, but shone the light in both her eyes. He snapped the light off with a muttered curse. "Dammit, Jacie...I'll come with you."

"I need you to guide the rope over the ledge, it’s razor sharp where it broke off, and somebody has to run that winch."

He banged his closed fist into his thigh. She glared at him, not saying a word. Clenching his jaw, he unwound the coil of rope and began tying knots. After a moment he secured the rope about her waist, back and upper thighs. Tension coiled inside him. He was afraid for her. He had almost lost her once today.

She gripped the rope, but he forestalled her. "Let me secure this to the winch."

He started the winch motor. The truck lights dimmed momentarily, then the motor began with a low whirring sound and he pulled the steel cable out several feet from the bumper. With several knots he secured the rope to the winch's hook.

Sloan crouched beside her to check the rope about her waist and thighs. "Here," he said tersely, handing her a pair of gloves. "They're big, but they'll protect your hands." He handed her the blanket she'd had on her shoulders. "You can use this to cover him."

She pulled on the gloves. He helped her stuff the blanket between her stomach and the ropes. She looked at him and he saw the longing and unspoken tenderness in her eyes. He rubbed the pad of his thumb along her jaw. "You swear you can do this?" he asked tersely, a terrible ache in his throat.

"I know I can."

"I’m going to trust you, Jacie," he muttered.

Grabbing the ropes, she turned to face the truck. He checked the ropes again, and then helped her lower herself over the edge.

"Jacie." He held her by the upper arms, her legs dangling in the air. "Bad timing, but I love you." He pulled her upper body to him, his arms catching her in a bear hug.

"What a coincidence," she whispered back. "I feel the same way. I love you too."

He stuffed a small flashlight in her back pocket, gave her a quick put his hand behind her head and gave her a kiss, then he lowered her over the edge.

"I can do this," she insisted quietly.

He wished he felt the same calm certainty. "Be careful, dammit."

"That's romantic," she quipped and then she disappeared over the edge.





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