Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Don’t look!” Jake yelled at her as the wall of water rushed at them. “Just keep going straight across, not toward Smithy! Hurry, Callie!”
“But Smithy—”
“Go, goddammit!”
The rain blinded her, and the ground rumbled, not from the thunder now, but the rushing, tumbling flash flood coming their way.
Ahead of her, Smithy stopped Tongue and turned around, squinting into the pouring rain. Seeing her, he waved.
“No!” she shouted. “Keep going, keep going!” She waved at him, tried to warn him to get completely across the riverbed.
He craned his neck, saw the rushing flood. He opened his mouth in surprise, and then leapt off his horse.
“No!” Jake yelled just as Tongue, freed now, took off, instinctively galloping north toward the rocks on the far side.
Jake slid down off his horse, too, and thrust the reins up to Callie. “Go to Tongue. Go!” Then he started running toward Smithy.
Callie gripped both horses’ reins and urged them to move.
She kept glancing back, but the rain blocked her vision.
When she reached the rocks safely, she jumped off Sierra, grabbed Tongue’s reins as well, and whipped around, just as the riverbed flooded.
Suddenly there was three or four feet of dirty, tumbling river running past her.
“Jake!” Callie searched madly for a sign of him, but saw nothing. She stumbled to the edge of the flowing water. A crack of thunder rocked her back a step.
And then, in the next flash of lightning, she saw them, Jake staggering through the chest-deep water toward her, dragging Smithy along with him.
Whirling around, she ran to a tree and tied up the frightened horses, then raced back to the water’s edge.
This time she plunged in, sucking in a breath as the cold water hit her like a punch in the chest.
The current nearly dragged her off.
“No. Callie, no!” Jake jerked his head toward shore. “Go back!”
Doing that, waiting, watching him struggle to fight the current and hold on to a flailing Smithy nearly killed her, but the last thing Jake needed was to have to rescue her too.
So she stood her ground for what seemed like an eternity before he got close enough that she could plunge in and help.
She grabbed Smithy’s other side, and together the three of them stumbled out of the water, plopping down to the muddy ground.
The rain still came down, and Callie shoved her hair out of her eyes to see. Then she did the same for Smithy, looking down into his face. “What’s hurt?”
“Nothing. Just…can’t…swim,” gasped Smithy.
Jake had dropped to his knees, his chest rising and falling with each harsh breath. “Then you should stay the hell away from water. Jesus, you weigh a ton.”
“Yeah.” Smithy sat up, looking shaken. “Sorry about that.”
Callie couldn’t believe it. “You put us all in danger with that stupid stunt.” She sagged back on her heels and stared at him.
“I don’t even have words for you.” She crawled over to Jake and put her hands on his arms, blinking through the rain to see his face, which, as she’d imagined, was full of pain. “Oh, Jake. Tell me what to do.”
He shook his head. She’d have sworn he was sweating, though the air was cold, the water even colder, and they were all soaked to the bone. “Can you ride?”
“Yeah.” He staggered to his feet with her help while Smithy just sat on the ground still looking stunned. “Help me,” she hissed at him.
But once Jake was on his feet, he shrugged them both off. “I’m fine.” He strode to the horses, and with a scathing look at Smithy, Callie followed him. Tongue was terrified, and it took her a moment to calm him down enough so Smithy could mount.
Callie had a wool blanket in her backpack, which she got out. Jake mounted his horse before she could help him and then refused the blanket. Stupid male pride, she thought. Smithy apparently had no pride and quickly wrapped himself in the blanket without asking if there was another one for her.
Disgusted, she mounted Sierra. All the horses were snorting and puffing, and stomping uneasily.
She didn’t blame them. She took one good long look at Jake through the curtain of rain, but his face was a mask of stone.
Good enough, she thought. She turned to look at Smithy, who looked miserable, huddling in his blanket as the rain pelted him. Not good enough.
“Careful,” Jake said to him. “It’s going to be slippery going.”
“And rocky,” she added. “You’ll stay in the middle and do as you’re told.”
“Yes,” Smithy said meekly. “Uh, you don’t by any chance have a beer—or not,” he muttered when she glared at him.
They rode back with the wind and slashing, freezing rain beating them up.
Halfway there, darkness fell, an utterly complete blackness relieved only by the rapid flashes of lightning that seemed to be right over the top of them.
Though she could ride back blindfolded, and so could the horses, Callie pulled out her flashlight so she could keep checking on Jake and Smithy.
“I’m fine,” Jake told her every time she blinded him with the light, and she figured he wouldn’t sound so irritated if he wasn’t fine, so that eased her worry a bit.
“I guess the guys are all warm and dry by the fireplace,” Smithy muttered at one point.
“No doubt,” she said. “Probably eating a hot meal too.”
He looked so sad at this news, she almost felt sorry for him, until she once again glanced at Jake.
No matter what he said, his jaw was tight with pain, his body tense.
Smithy’s stupidity had cost him the most. He could have dislocated his shoulder, or been swept downstream…
People died out here every year being as stupid as Smithy had been today.
“I’m sorry,” he said, making her realize she’d spoken aloud, and this time, she could tell he meant it.
When they got out of the canyons, they no longer had to ride so closely together. Jake nudged his way close to Callie, letting Smithy get a little ahead. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
“I was just going to ask you the same thing. You holding up?”
“I’m good.”
She studied his face but it was dark, and he was giving nothing away. “Close call, huh?”
He let out an agreeing grunt that said she didn’t know the half of it.
“You saved him, Jake.” She voiced the fear she’d been dwelling on. “What if you weren’t used to such heroics, or if you couldn’t swim? Or if you hadn’t been so quick? I don’t know if I could have done what you did.”
He reached out and touched her wet face. “You could have. You would have.”
She stared through the dark at him. Today had created a bond she hadn’t counted on, and deepened the one they had, whether she liked it or not. “You’re really not hurting?”
“Actually, yeah. I am.”
Her heart stopped. “Want to stop so I can massage it?”
His teeth flashed. “Wouldn’t you like to know where I’m hurting first?”
That should have pissed her off. Instead, she laughed. “You know what? Maybe I don’t.”
Again the flashing teeth, and then he shifted in his saddle. “Christ, how do you do this day in and day out? My parts are so chafed they’re going to fall right off.”
Unbelievably, she laughed again, and when Smithy shot her a hurt look, apparently thinking she was laughing at him, she only laughed harder. “I’m sorry,” she gasped.
“Stress,” Jake said to Smithy, who nodded seriously.
Callie just shook her head, the laughter having relieved much of it.
Jake’s presence did that, too, she realized.
Finally, they came out of the hills, crossed the plain, and saw the lights of the ranch wavering through the night.
The three of them stopped side by side to look at it together.
“I’ve never seen a more welcome sight,” she said.
Jake didn’t say anything, and she remembered—it wasn’t a welcome sight to him, and what had happened today had in all likelihood just cemented that for him.
Eddie and Tucker were waiting for them in the barn and took care of their gear and horses. Stone escorted the exhausted Smithy inside and saw to it that he got a hot shower and food.
“You too,” Tucker told Jake and Callie. “We’ll finish up in here. Go.” He gestured with his chin to the open barn door. The light spilled out into the night, highlighting the glittery silver curtain of rain that still came down.
Jake didn’t argue. He took Callie to her cabin.
She opened her door, then put her hand on his chest. For a moment his heart leapt, thinking she would invite him in to take care of him—not that he needed it, but a little fawning would cheer him up considerably.
She blocked his way, however. “Go get warm,” she said, then shut her door.
He stood staring at it for a moment, then sighed.
In his cabin, he took a long, hot shower, letting the steaming water beat off his various aches and bruises. Damn, working the land and playing host to a variety of new people, some smart, some not, week in and week out was infinitely more exhausting than he could have possibly imagined.
He wasn’t sure when it had sunk in—possibly when Smithy had nearly drowned them both—but this ranch was more demanding than any job he’d ever had. In fact, this was more than a job, it was a way of life.
He’d have sworn he had the most demanding, unpredictable, difficult job he could think of, but a month out here, and he had to admit he’d been wrong.
He’d always assumed if he ended up here because he couldn’t work, that would make him a loser, but the only thing that made him a true loser had been assuming that the ranch’s way of life was somehow less than his.