Beth Cornelison - Cowboy Christmas Rescue

If Kara wasn’t with the horse anymore, did that mean she was hurt? Or sick? Was she even now bleeding out, unable to breathe or lying unconscious in the harsh storm?

He huffed his frustration as he pulled out his phone again to text the horse’s location to his deputies. He turned a disgusted look to the sky where black clouds still roiled, spitting frigid rain. As long as the storm produced battering gusts of wind and lightning, assistance from a helicopter search team was not an option.

Climbing back astride the ATV, he revved the engine and considered his path. He needed to check the arroyo where the horse had appeared, but he needed to do it from high ground. As if to remind him of the urgency of finding Kara quickly, lightning struck close enough to cause an almost simultaneous clap of thunder. Yes, the conditions were dangerous. Lightning was a worry, but he couldn’t give up his search. The wandering mare was evidence that Kara was stranded out here in the storm. And she could easily be in more peril than he dared imagine.

* * *

Kara tried multiple times to pull herself off the small ledge and onto the safe ground at the top of the arroyo. But her feet slipped on the wet rock, and she couldn’t find secure handholds along the inverted angle of rock above her. The same overhang that provided a modicum of shelter from the downpour also made ascending the last seven or so feet nearly impossible.

Shivering from cold and fatigue, Kara sank back onto the small outcropping and fought the dejection that tugged at her. She wasn’t a quitter, and even though her circumstances seemed bleak, she couldn’t give up. She had to find an alternative solution. Ever since she’d stood by and watched her father drown, she’d sworn she’d never be passive in a situation again. Maybe as a young teen she’d not seen a way to help him, but as an adult, she’d never submit to any problem or circumstance without a fight.

Except with Brady .

She scowled darkly. Where had that thought come from? Leaving might have been painful, but it had been necessary to save herself from certain problems later on.

That’s a cop-out. You took the easy way out with Brady. You didn’t fight for him or for a workable compromise .

Kara growled her frustration and slapped a scraped palm on the cold, wet clay stone. Was this how she was going to spend the long hours until the waters receded or she was rescued? Mentally beating herself up over decisions she’d made out of self-preservation?

Brady bore his share of the blame for their breakup. Though she’d never told him the full story about her father’s death, he hadn’t acted interested in her reasons for her fears. Had he listened to her concerns about his appointment as sheriff, had he respected her opinions and valued her input, she wouldn’t have felt backed into a corner. She wouldn’t have—

Kara coughed as she inhaled the rainwater that sluiced down her face and dripped from her hair. The wind blew the steady downpour against her chilled skin and caused turbulent waves in the river that cascaded below her. She didn’t want to die like her father, sucked beneath the choppy waves of a fast-flowing current. Help me, Daddy!

The ache that had cleaved her heart for the past fifteen years swelled again and raked her soul. Seeing the rushing muddy water below her now brought all her worst fears from that night back to the fore of her mind.

“Stop it!” she scolded herself. She wouldn’t dwell on Brady or her father or the maniac sniper. She needed to stay positive, remain focused on the best way to stay alive and get back to town before she died of exposure.

Since the rain gave no indication of letting up anytime soon, and the water level of the flash flood in the arroyo kept rising, she knew she needed to find another way to the top of the cliff. Could she tear strips of her dress to make a rope and—

“Kara!” a male voice shouted in the distance.

Her heart stilled, and she held her breath until she heard the voice again.

“I’m here!” she yelled, “Help!” She pushed onto her feet, ignoring the sting of raw, chafed skin. The sound of an ATV grew louder, and tears of relief stung her eyes. But could she be seen here under the overhang?

Hastily she ripped a large piece of her red dress from the bottom hem and broke off a branch from a low-hanging cottonwood. After tying the scrap on the end of the stick, she waved her homemade flag and screamed louder. “Here! I’m down here! Help!”

Chapter 3

Brady divided his gaze between the rugged terrain in his path and the steep sides of the arroyo to his left. The driving rain obscured his vision, and the sight of the rushing water filled him with a queasy dread. Kara knew the dangers of flash flooding in the canyon areas, but knowing the danger and avoiding it were different matters. If she’d been hurt, she might not have been able to get out of the swift water’s perilous path.

“Kara!” A bracing wind cut through his soaked tuxedo jacket, and an icy chill shook him to the core. The predicted cold front was settling in quickly. Hypothermia was a serious threat if he couldn’t get her back to the ranch promptly. “Kara!”

Brady paused briefly and cut the engine in order to better listen for a response. But even without the rumbling ATV motor, the sounds of the storm and rushing water created a cacophony that drowned out nearly all other noises. “Kara!” he shouted again hearing the growing desperation in his voice.

He was about to crank the engine again, when a flash of color just ahead of him snagged his attention through the veil of gray rain. Scrambling off the ATV, Brady jogged closer to the edge of the arroyo for a better look. Squinting against the water dripping in his eyes and craning his neck for a better view of the cliff below him, he glimpsed a scrap of red cloth at the end of a branch.

His heart squeezed. “Kara!”

The branch that held the limp, wet fabric wiggled harder.

“I’m here!” The voice was unmistakably Kara’s.

He barely heard her response over nature’s din, but the thin sound was the sweetest he’d ever heard. He barked a laugh that was half joy and half relief as he ran along the top of the arroyo to get closer. When he was more directly above her, he lay on his stomach and inched to the edge of the cliff. “Kara, it’s Brady! I’m going to get you up from there, babe. Are you hurt?”

“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?”