Page 21 of A Dangerous Heart (Wind River Mail-Order Brides #4)

A faint cry broke through the stillness, severing the connection between them. Isaac let go of Clare and turned his head, one direction, then another. Where had the sound come from?

“Ben!” he yelled, his voice growing rougher with each call.

From this higher vantage point, they could see the steep, rocky drops on each side of the river.

Over the roar of the water came another faint cry.

He stopped short and held out his arm to keep Clare from going too near the cliff’s edge.

He could see Quade’s work across the river.

His men had dug a wide swath, inching closer to diverting the water.

But this was not the time to think about that.

They walked farther, and Isaac couldn’t keep his mind from swinging between the current problem of locating Ben and everything Clare had revealed in the past hour as they’d searched for the boy.

It was clear that Nick had guessed right.

She’d left behind a life of violence and criminal activity.

It had taken a strong will to see through the lies her pa and brothers had told her about what was right and wrong. She’d made her choice and run away.

But the compassion he felt for what she’d been through didn’t explain his conflicted feelings about whether he should follow through with his decision from last night—whether he should send her away.

No, it was the twist in his gut when she’d explained about the young man she’d fallen in love with that left Isaac unsettled.

Clare had snuck under his walls. He’d started to care about her. And those boys. That’s why her deception had stung so badly.

If he opened his heart fully to them and he couldn’t keep them safe…

Isaac scanned the area ahead, taking in the dark clouds, churning and forming fast. Clare leaned over the cliff’s edge and gasped.

Isaac peered down the precipice. His heart twisted. Ben lay on a narrow ledge, unmoving. His leg was turned at an ugly angle. Earlier, they’d heard his cries, but now there was only the sound of the wind picking up, whistling sharply through the canyon. Had he fallen unconscious?

The shallow rise and fall of Ben’s chest shot relief through Isaac. He dropped to his belly, his head and shoulders hanging over the edge. Clare followed his lead, lowering herself beside him.

“He’s breathing,” Clare said.

“Isaac?” Ben whimpered. His eyes opened.

Clare rolled to her elbows. “I’ve got to get down there.”

“Not a chance. It’s a challenging climb in any circumstances. But in skirts? Go back to the homestead. You can lead my brothers here faster. We need a horse, and bring some rope and bandages.”

She shook her head. “I can’t leave him.” She pinned her lips in a firm line.

“Then see if you can find some sticks for a splint. Sturdy ones.”

She frowned but did as he asked, leaving Isaac to assess the cliffside and the distance between him and Ben.

Ben groaned. His tiny perch was barely wider than a water trough. If he rolled one way, he’d fall into a crevice. But if he rolled the other way? Well, it was a steep drop for a kid with a broken leg.

“Ben, just stay real still. All right?”

Clare reappeared at Isaac’s elbow, two near-straight sticks in one hand. She pressed them and a white handkerchief into Isaac’s hold.

“It hurts. My leg hurts,” Ben cried. His small movement sent pebbles skittering down the side of the cliff. “I want to go home.”

Isaac forced himself to look at Clare, not Ben. “I’m going to climb down. You keep talking to him. It’ll help to keep him calm.”

Clare’s eyes locked with his. “Be careful.”

Her bossy demand brought on a half smile.

He swung around, allowing his legs to dangle off the edge of the cliff.

His work-hardened hands gripped the rough crags as his scuffed boots found footholds within the jagged outcrops below.

One boot slipped, sending a small shower of rocks down to the ledge.

He hung six feet above the narrow ledge.

There were no more foot holds. He’d have to drop and keep his weight from going backward but not scrape his nose off his face.

“It hurts…” Ben’s voice was growing weaker.

“Isaac is almost there. He’s going to help you.” Clare’s confidence in him rang in her words.

He’s going to help you. He was, right now.

But what about after this crisis was over?

Could Isaac really turn the three of them loose, knowing exactly who was hunting them?

These were the times he wished he’d kept a tighter hold on his faith. He wanted to pray, lean on a power greater than his own. Maybe that made him a hypocrite. He didn’t care.

Lord, I guess I’m in Your hands now .

He let go.

His feet landed solidly on the ledge, just missing Ben. And his mug had avoided critical damage, just a stinging scrape on his right cheekbone. A powerful wave of gratefulness rushed through him.

Isaac crouched next to Ben, his back to the drop and the rushing waters below.

Tears dripped from Ben’s wild, fear-filled eyes.

“You came back.”

Isaac felt Ben’s words, a vice gripping his heart.

He massaged Ben’s arms and neck. The leg seemed to be the only injury.

He carefully pulled up Ben’s pant leg and worked to keep his face from showing his shock.

Ben’s knee was swollen. Ugly purplish bruises were spreading fast. Blood seeped from a gash along his shin where the bone threatened to break through the skin.

“Yeah. Imagine my surprise to find my good friend had deserted.”

Isaac lowered himself to a sitting position, his back resting against the rock wall.

He pulled Ben into his lap and wrapped his arms around the boy’s trembling body.

Or was that him trembling? Scratches, dried blood, and tears covered Ben’s face.

No time to clean him up now. Not when the wind was picking up, carrying the scent of rain.

“Clare,” he called. “I’m gonna splint his leg now.”

It was worrisome that Ben was so weak he didn’t protest.

Isaac pulled the sticks Clare had retrieved and her bandanna from his back pocket.

He quickly untied his own bandanna from around his neck.

He glanced up to see Clare’s worried face peeking over the cliff.

A memory of her stricken expression last night, when the truth had been revealed, flickered in his mind.

It was too late to keep his distance.

He cared.

He blinked the memory away, focused on Ben and figuring how to get the kid to stay calm.

“Why don’t you give your aunt a wave, Ben?” he said gently. “She’s been watching us like a mother hen.”

While Ben was briefly distracted, Isaac pulled Ben’s leg into position.

Ben screamed. His face blanched white.

With shaking hands, Isaac splinted the leg firmly. He had to get the kid off the cliff. How was he supposed to do that with a drop-off and no rope? There wasn’t time to think about another plan, not with Ben going quiet and almost limp.

He tapped his fingers on his shoulders to signal Ben should put his arms around there. “My part is to do the climbing,” he said. “Your part is to hold on tight.”

Isaac maneuvered the boy into a piggyback hold, taking as much care as possible with Ben’s leg.

“I got lost.” Ben’s words were barely audible, more breath than sound, but they hit Isaac like a fist gripping his heart.

“Yeah,” Isaac said, his voice rough. “Easy to do in the dark.”

Isaac clung to the rock face. The extra weight hindered his balance. Each step felt excruciatingly slow.

His mind shouted. Hurry. Hurry.

The rocks cut into his hands. He remembered this from his days as a teen when he and Ed had challenged each other.

“Gonna have to do some scouting together come spring. Won’t be long before you know the lay of the land.” And the cliffs. No answer from Ben.

“My pa used to say Ed and me could find our way home with our eyes closed and our boots on backward.” One side of his mouth kicked up at the memory.

The wind gusted again. His arms were starting to feel like lead weights. He looked up—caught Clare’s face looking down at him. The trust in her eyes…

It hit him hard on the side of that cliff.

It couldn’t have been easy for her to accept his help. Isaac was a marshal, and he’d never met a criminal that trusted the law. Her family was probably the same.

She’d kept Isaac’s secrets from the beginning. And he knew it wasn’t because she wanted to use them as leverage or hold them over his head.

Clare had a good heart.

He knew it like he knew the land under his feet.

He kept his focus locked on her and scaled the last few feet. Near the top, he flattened himself against the rock wall while Clare gripped Ben under the shoulders and pulled him up over the cliff edge.

The weight lifted, Isaac pulled himself up over the ledge and rolled to his back on the flat ground, heart pounding.

He sucked in a few breaths, then shakily raised himself to a sitting position alongside Clare.

She held Ben nestled in her lap, his injured leg carefully extended, her hands gently patting Ben for other injuries.

The grit and pebbles embedded in Isaac’s palms smarted, and his shoulders still quivered. He closed his eyes as he breathed deeply. Clare’s gentle fingers grazed the scrape on his cheek.

“You hurt yourself.”

His muscles, tense from the climb, relaxed at her touch, and he lost himself in her eyes. An expression he hadn’t seen there before made him long for more. He had a crazy notion to reach up and brush a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice quiet but earnest. Her wide, full lips pressed into a faint smile. The ground began to tremble with the beat of horse hooves, and the moment was broken. Drew, Ed, and Eli appeared on the bluff.

* * *

“Clare, hold his shoulder. Marshal, take the other side please. Hattie will cut away his boot.” Doc Powell directed with a calm authority. Clare felt as shaky as her nephew, who lay pale and small in the examination bed in the doctor’s office.