Chapter 21
We find ourselves scrambling across a rocky scree, loose stones cascading beneath our feet. The jagged terrain threatens to betray us, and I feel my sister’s hand slip from mine as we stumble and slide down the unforgiving slope. Bruised and battered, we rise again, our determination unbroken, a testament to the strength that has emerged from our shared ordeal.
—Ghost Lake by Ava Howell Brooks
“Where’s Sierra? I thought you wanted to bring her up, looking for the dogs with you,” Madi asked as they made their way toward Ava.
“She had a better offer, apparently. My mom scored last-minute tickets to a concert in Sun Valley and invited her along.”
“That’s fun.”
“Yeah. Seems like she is a social butterfly these days. I wonder if I should be feeling left out that she seems to have time for everyone but me.”
She gave him a sympathetic smile. “You might want to get used to that.”
As he followed Madi through the forest, on no discernable trail, Luke could see she was in pain. She always walked more carefully when her weak leg was giving her trouble, though she would never admit it.
He wanted to tell her to wait back with their vehicles, but he knew that would be like telling the grass not to grow or the snow not to fall in January.
Would she really try to belay down into a mine shift?
Yes. One hundred percent. His Madison was completely fearless.
Not his, he reminded himself.
“There they are,” she said, pointing through the undergrowth. As they moved into a clearing between Douglas fir and lodgepole pine, he saw a sight he never would have imagined in a hundred years.
Ava Howell Brooks was sitting perched on a fallen tree trunk, crooning softly to a matted corgi with a pink collar.
“Look who I found,” Madi called out cheerfully.
Ava looked up and the vast relief on her pale features made him smile.
“Luke! Oh, thank heavens. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. She can’t go down into a mine shaft to rescue a dog. It’s ridiculous. We have to come up with another way.”
Madi glared at the two of them, as if daring him to agree with her sister. The fierce expression on her features made him check his impulse to do exactly that.
She hated people coddling her, treating her as if she were incapable of anything she set her mind to. He knew he was guilty of the same thing, of wanting to protect her. Sometimes he couldn’t help treating her like a fragile flower that would bend and break at the first sign of a breeze.
“She’s tougher than she looks,” he said, a reminder to himself as well.
Madi sent him a swift look of shocked gratitude. “That’s right,” she said. “I am.”
“I know she’s tough,” Ava said impatiently. “My sister the superhero, who can leap tall buildings in a single bound, blah blah blah. But now that you’re here, she doesn’t have to go down there, right? You can do it.”
He almost agreed with her, but somehow sensed Madi wanted to do this, if only to prove to herself that she could.
“I should stay up here while she belays down so I can help pull her and the dog back out. I would be too heavy for you to pull up if something went wrong. It should be one of you two. Unless you want to go down, I guess that leaves Madi.”
“What about her leg? And her hand?”
“I have full use of both,” Madi said sharply.
Ava still looked worried for her sister. Luke didn’t blame her. He was worried, too. But he also trusted that she knew what she was doing. He also remembered that she occasionally went to the climbing wall in Sun Valley with Nicki and whatever guys they were currently dating.
If he hadn’t been here, how she had intended to climb out of the hole by herself, with only Ava to help, he had no idea.
He attached the pulley and winch to a sturdy tree limb over the opening, then helped her fashion the rope into a makeshift harness, up through her legs and around her waist, trying his best to ignore her softness and her strawberry scent that teased him.
“You sure you’re ready for this?”
She nodded, smiling with a confidence in him he found deeply humbling.
“Sure. You’re here. You’ve got my back.”
“Always,” he murmured.
She blinked, as if not sure whether she heard him or not, then she lowered into the mine shaft. He held on to the rope, giving her enough lead to rappel down into the hole, which he judged to be about a dozen feet deep.
The entire way down, she spoke softly to the dog. “You’re almost out. There’s a good boy. Almost there.”
He felt the tension on the rope ease when she hit solid dirt.
“Okay,” she called. “I’m down.”
He and Ava both aimed flashlights down into the pit. Together with the light from Madi’s headlamp, they were able to see her approach the dog with some caution. Smart. A cornered, injured dog could lash out, even at someone trying to help. This one was too tired to do more than wag a tail.
“You’re probably thirsty, aren’t you? Look. I brought you some water. I don’t have a bowl but I can do my best.”
He watched her pour some water into her hand. The dog lapped at it and she repeated the process three more times.
She released the rope anchoring her to them. “Can you lower the crate now?” she called softly.
He anchored four corners of the crate with the remaining rope, then slowly lowered it down into the pit. In the beam from the flashlight, he watched as she coaxed the dog into the crate with several treats.
“Okay. He’s good,” she called back up the hole. “He seems to have injured his back paw, maybe when he fell, but you’ll have to take a closer look when you get him out.”
The corgi mix, still close to Ava, barked encouragement as Luke used the pulley to haul up the dog.
As soon as the crate was out of the mine shaft and on solid ground, Luke opened the door and the border collie limped out of the crate. The other dog immediately rushed to him, tail wagging a furious greeting.
Luke quickly ran his hands over the dog, even more matted and covered with burrs than the corgi, probably because his fur was longer.
“How is he?” Madi called.
“He’ll be okay. We’ll take him back to the clinic and clean him up and take a look at his leg. I don’t think anything is broken.”
“Oh good.”
“Are you okay?” Ava called.
“I will be as soon as Luke gets me out.”
He remembered suddenly reading in Ava’s book about how they hadn’t been allowed candles or flashlights at night in the primitive log structure where they had been kept and how the overwhelming darkness had been oppressive and terrifying.
He clipped leashes to both dogs. “Hold on,” he told Ava. “After we’ve gone to all this trouble to rescue them, the last thing we want is for them to slip away into the backcountry again.”
Ava looked daunted at the responsibility, but she quickly grabbed the leashes from him and followed her sister’s lead, speaking softly to the animals.
He unhooked the crate from the ropes and lowered it back down to Madi. “Will you be able to tie it around yourself again?”
“Yes. I should be able to.”
He and Ava both aimed their flashlights down into the hole and she sent up a grateful look. “That helps. Thanks.”
She quickly rigged up her own harness again, perching on top of the crate. “I’ve got it.”
“Are you sure you’re secure? I’d hate for you to fall.”
She tugged at the rope. “Yes. I’m good.”
“Okay, steady. I’m going to get you out of there. All you have to do is stay away from the side.”
“No problem,” she called up.
He used the winch to pull her and the crate out with excruciating slowness, cursing himself for giving in to her stubbornness. He should have gone down instead, no matter how determined she had been to handle the rescue.
He wasn’t sure which of them was happier when she finally emerged from the hole and he could pull her to safety.
“There you go. Back on solid ground.”
The relief on her features clearly told him how difficult the rescue had been for her, despite her protestations.
“You did it!” Ava exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder. “That was amazing!”
Madi flushed in the last rays of the sun. “Thanks. We’re not done. We still have to get them to the UTVs and then back down the mountain.”
The border collie did indeed have a tender leg. He made a few limping steps before Luke swept him into his arms. “I’ll carry him, if you can bring the crate and the corgi.”
“Her name is Gracie, according to her name tag,” Ava offered. “I couldn’t find a phone number or anything.”
“You’re a good, brave girl to stay with your friend,” Madi said to Gracie.
The border collie didn’t have a collar. Had he lost it somewhere during their adventures? Or was he a bad-boy stray who had convinced the other dog to leave the safety of the familiar?
They stopped long enough to let both dogs lap eagerly from a small creek they passed on the way back to the vehicles. When they reached the trail, Madi gave the dogs the sandwich she had packed and Ava handed hers over as well. They were eaten with such alacrity, Luke was certain they must be starving.
“I don’t think I could eat anything right now, if you want the truth,” Ava said with a grimace.
“Sorry,” Madi said, giving her sister’s arm a squeeze.
They seemed to have come to some kind of peace, though Luke wasn’t sure if it was permanent or only a temporary cease-fire.
After the dogs gulped down the sandwiches, he helped them both settle in the crates he had tied down in the cargo area of his side-by-side.
“Will you be okay driving in the dark?” he asked as Madi slid behind the driver seat in the other vehicle.
“I should be. If I start to drive off the side of the trail, I’m sure Ava will scream loud enough to jerk me back to safety.”
Ava didn’t look amused. “How about we don’t test that hypothesis? Do you want me to drive?”
“No. I’ve got it. I just need you not to puke on me.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Ava muttered.
“You want to go first?” Madi asked him.
“No. I’m fine following you.”
Madi nodded and began driving down the trail. Nights here in the mountains instantly cooled as soon as the sun went down, with an enveloping darkness. As he followed them, Luke wished he had thought to give them the extra blanket he kept under the seat. He considered honking to get their attention so he could hand it over, then discarded the idea. The dogs needed food and water and medical treatment, and he was certain Ava and Madi wanted to get out of these particular mountains as quickly as they could, now that it was full dark.
It took them nearly twice as long to reach the parking lot as it might have during the day, as they had to drive more slowly to avoid rocks and ruts on the trail that were harder to see in the dark.
Finally, she pulled up to her old pickup truck and he drove to his truck and trailer next to hers.
“You two get in and turn on the truck heater. I’ll load up your wheeler.”
“Ava, you go and warm up. I’ll help with the dogs,” Madi said, handing her sister the truck keys.
While Ava slipped into the cab of the truck and started the engine, he and Madi transferred the crates to the back of his pickup truck, covered with a shell.
He helped her load the side-by-side onto her trailer and anchored it down.
“I can help you with yours,” she said.
“I’ve got it. You should probably get Ava back home. What did she need to tell Cullen, anyway?”
“It’s a long story. And not mine to tell,” Madi said. “Do you want to take the dogs to the clinic or to the shelter?” she asked.
“Probably the clinic so I can give them a careful exam.”
“I’ll drop Ava off at my grandmother’s place and meet you there.”
“Sounds good,” he said. On impulse, he pulled her into a hug. “You’re a hero, Mad. You saved them. That collie probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer without water, and the corgi didn’t seem to want to leave him to get any for herself, either.”
She rested her head on his chest. “I’m glad you were here,” she admitted, which he knew couldn’t be easy for her. “I am fairly confident I could have done it with only Ava’s help. But I’m really grateful I didn’t have to try. I wouldn’t have enjoyed being stuck down there while Ava drove back up to find Cullen.”
He tightened his hold, wishing he could kiss her as he wanted to.
After a moment, she stepped away. “I need to take care of Ava. I’ll see you at the clinic.”
He nodded, climbed into his pickup truck and followed her taillights toward Emerald Creek.