Chapter Three
Eli
From midway down the hill,he called the damn dog, even though the mutt was clearly a hard hike away. He watched for movement of scrub at dog height in the general direction she’d pointed, and he called and whistled, while keeping an eye on Lizzie, giving her a chance to rest. Her breathing leveled out quickly enough that he knew she wasn’t in distress. She had handled the terrain better than he’d expected. He’d heard about the boulder falling on her, crushing her chest cavity. Her own sister had done that. And she’d survived.
He called out again, “Rover! Here boy! Rooooover!” Stupid name for a damn dog. To Lizzie he said, “You ready to move on?”
“If that’s a euphemism for dying, then nope. If it’s referring to the fact that the earth disappears about twenty feet that way,” she gestured to the line ahead where the earth vanished, “then sure. That looks really easy. Like a stroll in the park. Or maybe like falling off a cliff.”
He chuckled and passed her a pair of lightweight fingerless gloves. “They’ll fit a little large, and your fingertips will stick out the end, the but they’ll help your grip on the trees and your walking stick.”
“Thank you.”
“Meanwhile, that’s called a horizon line,” he said, one arm indicating the straight line just ahead where the earth did indeed vanish. There was nothing beyond it but mountains and those were on the other side of the gorge. “A horizon line isn’t always a bad thing,” he added, voice calm.
“Uh huh. Sure. Tell me another one.”
Liz seemed better. And she had an inhaler. And the purple beads. Yeah. Witch shit.
Liz
The land dropped off ahead.
“Meanwhile, that’s called a horizon line,” he said. “And a horizon line isn’t always a bad thing.”
“Uh huh. Sure. Tell me another one,” she said as she joined him.
He added, “It just means the drop gets steeper. You climb?”
“Not much,” Liz said, hating the fact that she took thisstupidjob. She could have invited him to dinner or camping on the edge of Yellowrock Clan vineyard property. “I took a rappelling course once, but it’s been a few years.”
“Chewy says there’s a ledge at fifty feet. If I rig you up, can you drop down or do we take the longer, flatter way?”
Liz inspected the crystal again and checked the position of the sun.Oh fun.She was falling off a mountain at the end of a rope. She said, “I can drop down.”
Eli didn’t argue. He spent a while picking out the best line, strapped her into a harness, and described the landing site, which was fifty-five feet below. Liz didn’t say that her longest drop was closer to twenty-five. Or less. “After that,” he said, “there’s a ledge and, according to Chewy, what looks like an animal trail off to the west. Things should be easier after we set down.”
His hands roamed her butt, waist, groin area, and abdomen, cinching the harness tighter. It was totally professional, and not the least handsy. She wasn’t sure how some guys got the whole, “proper way to touch a woman without coming off creepy,” thing but Eli had it down pat.
He walked her through how to lower herself safely and what to do at the bottom. “Take off the harness, yell when you’re safe, and shout for me to pull up the gear. Sit tight and wait for the gear to drop down with the backpacks. Unhook them. Then, sit again and wait for me.”
“Okay.”
“Watch where you put your hands and feet on the way down. Rattlers might be nesting in the crevices.”
“Oh. Whoopie.”
“Want to turn back? If so, let’s do it now. Chewy says once we get down to the ledge, it’ll be a lot harder to get back to the road.”
Liz looked at his face, which was noncommittal, not giving her a clue which way he thought she should choose. But her lungs felt better after the short rest. “I have a soft spot for lost dogs. I got this.”
He repeated his instructions and strapped her walking stick to her pack. Liz took a breath, blew it out, turned her back to the mountains on the far side of the gorge, and started walking down the not-quite-vertical drop. A few feet in, her confidence grew, and she pushed off with her feet, dropping a short distance before stopping her fall, over and over, her eyes scanning for snakes, her hands picking up the muscle memory of her last rappel.
The ledge was just where it was supposed to be. No snakes were anywhere in sight and getting out of the harness wasn’t impossible. “I’m down. Harness is ready,” she shouted. The harness moved swiftly up, and Liz sat down, taking in the vista. The earth fell away, the trees were still bright with summer, the wind whispered through the forest like the breath of the Earth itself. Molly would have broken into tears at the sight of so much life and peace and so much amazinggreen.
The gear came down, tied with knots Liz didn’t know how to undo. It took a while to figure out how they worked before she could shout for him to pull it up. She tucked her walking stick under her arm and went back to the view. Eli landed near her. She heard him putting away gear, his harness, all the climbing stuff. He sat near her and offered her a bottle of water. She took it and drank. It was warm, but she needed the moisture. “This view alone is worth this gig,” she said.
“Pretty amazing.”
