Heartstealer (Women of Character3 (27 page)

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.

Jacie dropped below the outcropping
of rock she had landed on earlier, the night dark and quiet all around her.

Her eyes strained the shadowy
blackness, her hands feeling along the rock face as she dropped further into
empty air.

"Brad!" she called.
Surely she must be near the ledge where she had landed.

"Jacie?" Tremendous
relief flooded her as she heard Brad's voice below her. She had feared he was
unconscious.

"Jacie, are you all right?
Where are you?" His voice sounded weak.

"I'm fine." A little
further and she touched a jutting ledge with the toe of her boot. "Hang
on, Sloan’s up on top."

Digging her fingers into crevices,
ignoring the stinging pain from earlier scratches, she pulled herself on her
stomach onto the ledge.

Remembering the flashlight in her
back pocket, she gripped it and flicked the switch. Nothing. With a muttered
curse, she hit it against the heel of her hand. The light came on and she
quickly swept the area. Brad lay in an awkward position, blood pooling beneath
one leg, an arm twisted at an odd angle. Willing herself to remain calm, she
touched his shoulder.

"Jacie? Are you all
right?" he asked weakly.

"Of course. Sloan called for
rescue, they should be here soon."

She was surprised he didn’t
mention his arm. Perhaps he was in shock. "I have something to cover
you."

She pulled out the blanket wedged
between the ropes and her stomach and laid it over him.

"Jacie, I’m sorry for
all that’s happened."

She couldn’t quite make out
his face in the fog. "This isn’t your fault," she said.
"You did your best to keep Bonnie from hurting me up there."

"You should have left me down
here the way I left you," he said bitterly. "But nothing scares you,
does it Jacie?"

"It’s over with."

"I know, it’s all over,
and I’m sorry for all that went wrong."

The rope around her waist jerked.
Looking up, she could now see several bright lights above them, but the
outcropping of ledge over them prevented anyone on top from seeing her.

Rescue members outfitted with ropes
and equipment soon dropped to the ledge where they waited and immediately began
to work on Brad. With relief, Jacie felt her rope begin to tauten and she was
pulled upwards.

As she neared the top, she was so
tired that she lost her foothold against the rock face and began to whirl in
the air. She closed her eyes, suddenly overcome with dizziness.

Finally, the rope moved again and
hands reached down. Someone grabbed her belt loops and pulled her the rest of
the way over the edge. She landed against Sloan, her face buried in his neck.
She lay still, thankful to have made it.

"Don't ever do that to me
again," he said harshly.

She lay on top of him in a tangle
of ropes. "Doesn't this remind you of our first meeting?" she asked
with a small hiccup of a laugh.

"I'd rather do that ten times
over than ever let you go down there again," he said fervently.

The rescue team hoisted Brad to the
top. As they carried the stretcher past them, Brad reached out and gripped
Sloan’s sleeve.

"I wish we’d met under
better circumstances," he said. "Good luck." Sloan dipped his
head in acknowledgement and then they placed Brad in a brightly lit ambulance.
The vehicle drove off with an eerie wail, red lights a short-lived beacon in
the dense fog.

Someone with rescue squad insignia
on their arm carefully pushed the hair back from her face. Gently, fingers
probed her temple and forehead.

"Are you all right,
Miss?" the woman asked. "You should be checked out at the
hospital."

Jacie shook her head, her fingers
twisting in Sloan's shirt. "No thanks, I feel fine. Just fine," she
whispered softly. "Just tired."

He supported her sagging body.
"Get a stretcher over here," he barked. He insisted she lay down on
the stretcher and he covered her with a blanket.

Almost immediately, her shivering
subsided.

"I'm having you taken to the
hospital to be checked out." His voice brooked no argument.

"Where’s Jacie?" A
new voice was added to the chaos around them. "Is my sister okay?"

She jerked upright and then fell
back against Sloan where he knelt beside the stretcher. Her legs were still
curiously numb from the tightness of the rope. Pins and needles tingled as the
blood began to circulate.

"Con?" she squeaked.

"Jacie, I just heard what
happened. Are you okay?" her brother asked. "I'm not here ten minutes
and I find out the sirens and police involve you," her brother said,
pushing a hand agitatedly through his short-cropped hair.

"I’m okay, why are you
here?" she asked.

"I just got back in the States.
Sloan had the sense to call me."

Sloan twisted around to face her
brother and extended his hand. "Glad you got here so quick," he said
quietly.

As they shook hands Jacie saw her
brother take note of Sloan's arm around her. Eyes narrowing, he said to Sloan,
"I guess you didn't tell me everything that was going on here."

Sloan looked him straight in the
eye. "Some things you don't go into over the phone."

"I owe you," Con said.

"Well, I’m glad to see
you two are bonding," she said tiredly. Closing her eyes, she lay flat.

"Sloan, we’ve found a
body," a voice said behind them.

Jacie bit back a cry, shocked by
what the officer had said. It was Deputy Bryant.

"At the edge of the
woods," he continued. "It’s a woman. I’ve notified the
coroner. Looks like she might have been caught in the stampede."

"Bonnie?" she whispered,
her stomach churning.

The deputy tipped his hat to her.
"Ms. Turner, I’m going to need a statement." He turned his
attention back to Sloan. "We also found a pistol, looks like a .22 caliber."
He hesitated a moment. "I need someone to identify the body."

"Can we take care of that
tomorrow?" Sloan asked. "Jacie needs to go to the hospital."

"No," she said.

"Yes," said Officer
Bryant.

She turned to Sloan and gave him a
tremulous smile. "I’m really okay. I just want to go back to your
place."

He put an arm under her legs and
behind her back, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. She felt the exhausted
tremble in her limbs, but protested at him carrying her.

He held her close. "I’m
not letting you go. Let's get you home." He turned to her brother.
"I'm taking Jacie to my place. I'll call the doctor from there. He makes
house calls. You're welcome to come along."

Reading the possessive look on his
face, she ceased her protest. The man had had a difficult day, let him do what
he wanted.

Ω

About mid-morning the following
day, Sloan nudged the door open, careful not to make any noise. Looking toward
the bed, he studied the woman who lay there. Jacie’s hair swept across
the pillows and the bedcovers were twisted about her.

Untamed and brave, Jacie was
special. That's what he loved about her. That's why he’d be a fool to let
her go.

Her slim white back was exposed to
his view. Sloan's lips tightened grimly as he surveyed the angry purplish
bruises on her shoulders and spine, the scratch running the full length of her
back. And her hands...he swallowed, closing his eyes, thanking God for keeping
her safe.