Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(106)
She closed her eyes for a second, then reopened them. All right. Stop. Look around you. Think.
Tracks. Of course, dummy. Follow his tracks. Pulling in another draft of frigid air, she forced herself to calm and slowly scan the landscape. Nothing.
She turned back toward where she’d been, walking several paces, heart sinking to her feet before she saw them.
Small footprints, heading off to the left.
Steeling herself not to give in to fear, Perrie clasped her hands together, her every sense intent upon her son.
“Davey!” she called out. “Where are you?”
Still no answer. Oh, God—please don’t let him be hurt or—
Mitch. She’d sell her soul to have Mitch here to help her, but she didn’t dare go back to find him. He’d been gone for hours to who knew where.
No, it was up to her. She had to find Davey. And if he— Her mind balked at the thought. He would be all right. He had to be. He just couldn’t hear her. She’d find him, and those blue eyes would be dancing with mischief. He’d just hidden from her, that was it.
He’d been cooped up too long for an active boy. He would be all right—he was only on an adventure.
She would put him in timeout for disobeying the rules. He was never to wander away in a strange place.
Except that all she wanted was to hold him, to cuddle him close and never, ever let him out of her sight again.
“Davey!” she called out again. “Please, baby, let me know where you are—”
Suddenly she heard it, the faint sound of a voice.
A child’s voice. Please, God— Her heart was thumping so hard she couldn’t hear.
“Davey, where are you?” She stood very still, every sense alert.
Finally, she heard it again. Faint. Strained. But her beloved child’s voice.
Perrie took off running toward the sound. Beyond a clump of trees, she skidded to a stop, her breath kicking up in her chest.
The edge of a cliff lay in front of her, a pocket gouged out in the snow.
As if someone had fallen.
“Davey?”
“Mom—” The voice was faint, cracking with strain, but it was him. It was Davey.
She had to hold herself back from rushing to the edge.
“I’m here, sweetheart. Are you hurt?”
“Mom, I fell—” His voice was thready and filled with tears.
“Hold on, sweetie. I’m almost there.” With careful steps, she felt her way ahead of her, unsure where the weak spot began.
Finally she neared the edge and lay down in the snow, easing forward.
Oh, no. Oh, please— She couldn’t reach him from here.
“Mom?” He lay sprawled on his back, but at the sight of her, he struggled to rise.
“No, Davey, don’t!” He lay on a small ledge, about ten feet below her. Only about four feet wide—and past him lay only thin air. “Don’t move, sweetie.” She could hear her voice shaking as she scanned frantically for a way to get down to him.
But she could see nothing that would work.
“I’m scared.” He didn’t sound right.
“Tell me what hurts.”
“My chest—it kinda hurts to breathe.” Again he struggled to rise. “Come get me, Mom.”
She closed her eyes for a second and swallowed against the terror. “I will, just as soon as I can. You have to lie still and don’t move.” She didn’t know if he was aware of how close he was to unthinkable disaster. But she was, and it turned her voice sharp. “No matter what, don’t you move an inch, Davey. Not one inch, do you hear me?”
Every cell in her body cried out to be down there with him. She needed a rope, needed—
Help. Needed Mitch. But she had no idea where he was. She’d never tackled anything like this before, but it couldn’t wait for Mitch.
“Davey, sweetheart—” Could she do this? Could she leave him to go get the supplies she’d need to save him? All she could see in her mind’s eye was him moving, rolling over, losing his balance and tumbling to his death. She couldn’t possibly leave him—but he would die in the cold if she didn’t. Night would be here soon, and he would not survive a night out in this frigid air.
She felt panic rising, its steel claws climbing up her throat, pushing a helpless despair through her body.
“Davey?” With every ounce of control she possessed, she forced her voice steady. “Sweetheart, I need you to make me a promise. Are you listening?”
“Yes.” But his voice sounded so small. So helpless.
She couldn’t think about that now. “I have to go back to the cabin to get a rope. You have to lie there very still and not move. Not an inch, do you hear me?”
“Don’t leave me, Mom. I’m scared. It’s cold.”