Belonging to Taylor (16 page)

Fingering the shirt she held, Taylor pointed firmly with the hand grasping the reins. "That's the way he went."

"He wasn't wearing that shirt—" the Ranger objected, but was cut off fiercely.

"Not the shirt!
Him!
He went that way."

After a single glance at Trevor's face, Carmichael turned his horse toward the "rabbit lane." Clearly, though doubting the lady's judgment, he was unwilling to draw Trevor's defensive fire.

The trail narrowed as they moved along it, disappearing for good at the Ranger's estimate of a hundred yards. They had to pick their way cautiously, working around boulders and naked granite cliffs. The moon rose to provide some light, but flashlights were used more and more often to point ahead and search out obstacles. Taylor ordered a change in direction twice more, both times too definitely to invite argument.

And it was getting colder by the minute.

Three hours into the search, Taylor suddenly stopped her horse, her head moving in a horizon-sweeping gesture. "He's near," she said, the words misting in front of her face. "Close. Trevor—"

She didn't have to finish.
"Jason!"
he called our ringingly.

Echoes, then silence met their straining ears.

Taylor wasn't discouraged. She changed direction again, leading the way this time. After another hundred yards or so, she halted and glanced back at Trevor. Again, he shouted his brother's name.

Trevor strained to hear, all his concentration focused to catch the slightest sound. Was that—? Had he heard—?

She urged her horse forward, angling down a rocky slope with a sudden reckless haste.

"Be careful!" both Trevor and the Ranger shouted, urging their own horses to follow. They were only a few yards behind her when Taylor abruptly halted her horse and slid quickly from the saddle. And all three men reached her just as Taylor
was lying flat on the crumbling edge of a ravine and peering down into the darkness.

"A flashlight!" she ordered breathlessly.

Carmichael halted Trevor as he started to cross the scant feet to the ravine's edge. "On your belly," he ordered tersely, handing the flashlight over. "And slowly; that edge could give way at any minute."

The edge...

Fear for her as well as Jason blocking his throat, Trevor lay flat and moved cautiously to her side. He flicked the flashlight on and pointed it over the edge, sweeping slowly along the bottom a good twenty feet below them. And the beam caught a red hunter's vest—necessary for a hiker wherever hunting was allowed—and eyes squinting out of a pale face. Taylor had been unerring; he was directly below them.

"Hey!" Jason called up to them in a faint voice.

Trevor had to swallow before he could respond. And relief made his response furious. "Jason, what the hell are you doing down there?"

"Mostly just lyin' here," Jason answered, rueful in spite of the exhausted voice. "Brother, you picked a dandy time to visit."

"Are you hurt?" Trevor called down, ignoring the humor although it made him feel better about Jason's condition.

"A few bruises and one slightly broken leg." Jason's voice faded toward the end of the sentence, then strengthened again. "I'm also a little cold and a lot thirsty—my canteen's empty, dammit."

"Hang on. I'll be down there in a minute," Trevor said, pulling Taylor with him as he eased back from the edge.

But in the end, it was Taylor who went down first.

While Carmichael summoned the other searchers and got the rope from his saddle, she was busy unfastening the backpack containing the first-aid kit from her own saddle.

"I'm a doctor's daughter, Trevor, and I've worked with him; I know as much as any paramedic. Besides, I'm the lightest, and we don't know how much that edge'll stand. Let me go down first."

Trevor argued, but the Ranger agreed with her once he heard her reasoning, and even Trevor was forced to give in
when she briskly claimed experience in bellying down more than one mountainside at the end of a rope. So Taylor tucked two blankets and a thermos of hot coffee into her pack, and the men very cautiously lowered her over the edge.

She obviously knew what she was doing, making the descent quickly but safely.

A scant five minutes later, Trevor joined her in the narrow, rock-strewn bottom of the ravine, untying the rope and hurrying to kneel by his brother. He'd brought two battery-powered lanterns with him, and with both alight there was plenty of brightness.

Already Taylor had used her empty pack and Jason's shirt to pillow his head, and he was half propped up and sipping hot coffee gratefully, a blanket covering all but the leg she was carefully and gently examining.

"Brat!" Trevor said roughly, gripping his brother's shoulder.

Jason's face was pale with exhaustion, pain, and shock, but the gray eyes gleamed with indomitable spirit. "I know. And
such
a way to meet Taylor. Here I was out of chocolate bars and water, counting stars and hoping for rescue, and an angel lands beside me with blankets and coffee." Jason reached a shaky hand up to grasp his brother's. For the first time, his voice faltered. "I'm so glad you found me."

"Me, too," Trevor said huskily, feeling the warmth of tears on his cold cheeks. "You rotten kid, how're you going to dance at my wedding with a broken leg?"

"I'll dance if it kills me!"

Taylor looked up just then, her eyes traveling from one brother to the other. "No broken ribs," she told them cheerfully. "Just bruises and a broken leg. Jason, are you
sure
there was no blurred vision or dizziness after you fell?"

He nodded. "None. I landed on the damned leg and then rolled. So, no concussion?"

"I don't think so. And no compound fracture; it's a clean break. It needs to be set and splinted before you're moved." She looked at him seriously. "I've set bones before, but it's going to hurt like hell. I think we'd better wait for the doctor; he could give you something for pain. He was in one of the other search parties, wasn't he, Trevor?"

Trevor nodded. "And Carmichael's called him; he should be here in about an hour."

Jason laughed unsteadily. "I can wait. This is heaven after the last two days. Trust me to decide to go for a last hike the morning I'm supposed to leave, and then find myself rolling headlong into some godforsaken gully!"

Chapter Nine

The
wait was slightly more than an hour. Warmed by the
coffee and blankets, Jason was as comfortable as he could be. He insisted on hearing how they'd found him, and once he'd heard the whole story, he promised them both that he intended to shake Luke's hand. Then he pulled Taylor's head down and kissed her quite firmly, ignoring the stern rebuke from his brother.

"If you don't want her, I do," he said definitely.

Trevor gave him a mock frown. "I do want her." He looked at Taylor, adding silently,
God, do I want her!
And she smiled softly at him, clearly reading his thought without the need for telepathy.

Jason claimed their attention then by very seriously thanking Trevor for drilling the basics of hiking into him years before. "I left about dawn and was just planning a few hours up here. But you were always so rabid on the idea of being prepared that I automatically stuck a couple of sandwiches and a handful of chocolate bars into the backpack." He gestured to the somewhat frayed canvas pack lying nearby with a canteen. "And I made sure I had plenty of water. It didn't
really start getting cold until a few hours ago; last night was pretty mild."

"So you've been just fine," Trevor said ironically.

His brother grinned. "Well, it could have been worse."

Trevor poured more coffee for him, then handed Taylor her gloves, feeling the increasing chill in the air. Jason was, as he'd said, in much better shape than he might have been. No apparent concussion or broken ribs, and he was dressed warmly enough—although if he'd had to spend
this
night with no added protection against the steadily dropping temperatures ... What Trevor was most worried about now was getting his brother out of this ravine and down the mountain.

Against all predictions, it seemed that the storm was approaching more quickly than expected. The moon was gone, and they could hear the wind rising in the trees high above them. And after Trevor followed the path of a single large snowflake as it drifted idly into their lamplight, his eyes rose to meet Taylor's. Her face was calm, but he could read the worried frown in her steady gaze.

Just then, there was a shout from above, and they looked up, barely able to make out a bulky form being lowered over the ravine's edge.

"The doctor," Taylor said instantly.

And so it proved to be. Introducing himself cheerfully— "Just call me Doc and we'll get along fine"—he knelt beside Jason and began unpacking an emergency medical kit far more extensive than the average first-aid box. He was deft and gentle, examining Jason quickly and asking a few questions almost identical to those Taylor had asked. He concurred in her belief that there was no concussion and instantly requested her help when her background as a doctor's daughter was disclosed.

The shot he gave Jason might not have eliminated all pain, but it made the bone-setting at least bearable. The leg was splinted firmly as a collapsible basket stretcher was lowered to them, and Jason was carefully transferred, wrapped as warmly as possible, and strapped in.

After a shouted conference with the men at the lip of the ravine, a complicated arrangement of ropes was lowered to
them. A sturdy tree branch hanging out over the gully bore the weight of Jason's stretcher, while allowing him to be lifted more or less vertically. Trevor went up with him on his own rope, one hand firmly holding the basket to keep it steady.

The Rangers and their rescue teams, experienced in a variety of mountain mishaps, effected this part of the rescue quickly and safely. With Jason and Trevor out of the ravine, ropes were lowered for Taylor and the doctor, and both were safely brought up.

As for the trip down the mountain, that would live long in Trevor's nightmares. The storm burst upon them when they'd gone only a few hundred yards, pelting them with a mixture of sleet and snow and freezing them with an icy wind. Half a dozen of the men had volunteered to help carry Jason, the rest sent back to the lodge with the horses. In spite of Trevor's anxious request for Taylor to leave with the mounted men, she remained with them for the most hazardous beginning of the descent, leading her horse ahead of the rest to find the easiest path.

But once the worst was behind and they were on the main trail back to the lodge, she mounted her horse and headed back after asking the doctor what exactly he wanted to have waiting for them at the lodge. Trevor kissed her briefly before helping her to mount, offering no protest at her decision to hurry ahead. He'd seen enough to know she was an expert horsewoman, and the thought that his love could become lost was one to be dismissed the instant it occurred.

Not his Taylor.

And she didn't, of course. As the warmth of the lodge finally closed around rescuers and rescued, it became obvious that Taylor had used her hour's lead to the fullest extent. Her help had been gratefully accepted by the lodgekeeper's wife in preparing hot coffee and soup, and Jason's room awaited him with a cheerful fire in the hearth and everything the doctor required by the bed. Jason was carried to his room and left with only her and the doctor in attendance, since there was no question of trying to transport the injured man any distance in the worsening storm.

The Rangers and their teams, most of whom had been searching without rest for more than twenty-four hours, paused
only to gulp coffee and soup before heading for needed rest. They brushed off Trevor's heartfelt thanks as unnecessary, but all gripped his hand firmly before seeking their beds. Owen, too, was thanked for his help, and went off to get a room for himself and take a hot shower.

Outside the lodge, the storm howled viciously.

Trevor ignored the soup but drank hot coffee as he waited to hear the news of Jason. He was worried, concerned that his brother might need more care than the lodge could provide, but he'd formed a good opinion of the doctor. He spent the time of waiting in requesting the last available room for himself and Taylor, unable to suppress a rueful comparison of this night to last night. Their bags were carried up, and he found himself alone in the lobby-den.

The doctor came down just before midnight, snaring a cup of coffee before sinking down beside Trevor on one of the wide couches near the fireplace. "Constitution of an ox," he said briefly after a sip.

Trevor felt relief sweeping over him. "He'll be all right?"

"I doubt he'll even have a cold after spending a night up there. He was warm enough, and didn't have to go too long without food and water. I'd feel better if I could X-ray that leg, but it's a very clean break and he had the sense not to try to move it. He's sleeping now, and I expect him to sleep all night. I'll check on him during the night, but no one else needs to."

"Thank you—"

"I'll send you the bill." The doctor grinned at him, his weathered face cheerful. "For now, I've sent your lady off to have a hot shower, after which she's under orders to get something hot inside her. You do the same. This storm won't be letting up anytime soon, but your brother'll be fine up here until we can get him to Casper."