Layla followed his line of sight.
“Oh!”
Ben turned to beam down at his daughter, open-mouthed in wonder behind her binoculars.
“Daddy, what’s she doing?”
Ben lifted his lenses and found the bird again.
“Looks like she caught some critter for breakfast.”
“Oh.” Beside him, Layla’s shoulders fell.
“Every animal has to eat, Lay,” he said softly. “We talked about this, remember?”
Layla nodded, binoculars still at her eyes. “What’s she eating?”
Ben adjusted the focus, squinting. Whatwasthat? It was finer and longer than fur. Silken, and floating, somehow.
Wind caught the shelf of rock, sending long dark strands dancing out over the cliffside, and realization washed over Ben in an ice-cold wave. Slowly, he lowered the binoculars a few inches. He swallowed, blinked twice, and raised them to his eyes again, magnifying the thing beneath the eagle that seemed to be waving in their direction.
No. He hadn’t imagined it. It was crystal clear. The wind was lifting glossy strands of long brunette hair. A woman was lying face down on the rocks.
Instinct kicked in, and Ben’s hand shot out, pushing Layla’s binoculars away from her eyes.
“Hey!”
“Honey, don’t look.”
His voice was harsh, and Layla blinked up at him in confusion, but Ben was already bringing his lenses back to his eyes, frantically seeking the spot again.
Heart racing, he located the eagle, then angled upward, higher, higher, until he found the trail. The slender wooden fence that guarded hikers from the edge was unbroken and unoccupied, and there was no one standing at the top, screaming down to the woman who had fallen. He would have heard it from here anyhow.
Ben swore under his breath and dragged his binoculars back down, praying that somehow, some way, his eyes had been playing tricks on him, but there she was beneath the bird, and though her hair still swirled in the air like a ghost with each breath of wind, she had not moved.
“Dad?”
Layla’s curious voice sounded far away, though she still stood next to him, her fingers tugging at the loose elbow of his flannel shirt.
“Hang on, baby.”
“But—”
“Please,” Ben said urgently. “Please just hang on.”
“Hey!” He shouted across the gully, one hand on the binoculars, the other waving above his head, “Over here! Can you hear me?”
At his echoing shout, the eagle took slow, exaggerated flight, soaring west with the wind and dropping out of sight behind a row of scraggly pines, giving Ben a clear view of the woman on the rocks.
“Who is it?”
Ben didn’t answer as he ran the math. It would take an hour to hike back out the way they’d come, plus there was the several-mile drive to town or the nearest phone. Too long. If the woman was badly hurt and needed help now, he was her only hope. Judging the distance, he could be across the gully and climbing up to reach her in less than twenty minutes, if he and Layla hiked fast.
Ben turned to his daughter, stooping to bring them eye to eye as he gripped her hard by the shoulders.
“Listen to me, Layla. Are you listening?”
She nodded.
