“I’m okay.” The little voice wasn’t steady, but Mitch heard no panic.
What a guy. A man would be lucky to have a son like this one. Mitch leaned over the edge—and damn near choked at the sight.
But he revealed none of his concern. “Hey, fella.” There was barely enough room for Davey, much less for someone his own size. But at least he’d brought enough rope.
Davey stirred, trying to sit up.
“Don’t move yet.” He forced his voice to remain steady while he scanned the cliff face between him and Davey. “Just lie back and play possum.”
Davey’s face lit. “Like you told me how they play dead so their enemies don’t bother them?”
“That’s right. Pretend I’m a big grizzly and I need a snack for supper. A boy like you would be just about a good snack.”
Davey giggled, the sound a little stronger.
“I’ve still got my bear, Mitch. He’s in my pocket.”
“Good for you.” Mitch met Perrie’s gaze, the air between them thick with fear, but her eyes telegraphed gratitude. He smiled to reassure her and saw her visibly relax.
She didn’t need to know how dicey this would be.
“Davey, are you sick at your stomach?”
“No, but my bottom hurts where I landed.”
“Can you move your arms and legs?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right. I want you to try something, but stop if anything hurts. Try it very slowly, just a little bit at first. Can you move your arms and legs like you were making a snow angel?” He heard Perrie’s breath catch behind him. His own breath stilled as he waited. “Slow now—don’t make any sudden movements. Just try your arms first.”
He stared as Davey moved gingerly. When Davey spread his arms out and didn’t meet thin air, he seemed to draw strength, his eyes brightening.
“That’s good.” He heard Perrie’s soft inhalation behind him. “Now try your legs the same way. Slowly at first.”
Davey’s legs straightened, then began to move. “Can I get up now?”
“No!” His voice was too sharp, but he’d seen Davey’s enthusiasm carry him away before. “Now slowly again, just move your head a tiny bit from side to side.” Davey complied. “Does that hurt any?”
The boy shook his head.
“That’s good. Try it a little bit more. Look over at the side of the cliff.”
Davey’s head turned fluidly.
“Still doesn’t hurt?”
“No, sir.”
Mitch wanted to shout in thanksgiving. “Now try the other side. Still okay?”
“Uh-huh. I mean, yes sir.”
Mitch’s throat tightened. “Okay. Hold on a minute. Don’t move.” For one second, he broke eye contact to turn his head and nod at Perrie.
She was still bone-white, one hand covering her mouth. But she nodded back, her frame easing slightly.
He turned back to Davey. “All right. Now listen to me carefully and don’t move until I tell you.”
“I won’t.” Trust rang in his voice.
Mitch clamped down hard on the emotions that threatened to burst free. Emotions were his enemy, and right now, they were Davey’s enemy, too. A lifetime’s worth of maneuvering out of tight spots was about to pay off.
“I want you to stay on your back and scoot over toward the cliff wall very slowly. Can you do that? Don’t roll over, just scoot on your back as close as you can to the rocks.”
Davey began to inch away from the dangerous edge, clearing a space that, with luck, would be enough room for Mitch to land. Mitch breathed a little easier with every inch that appeared between the boy and thin air.
“Very good, son. Now if it still doesn’t hurt, I want you to roll over and face the cliff, then cover your head with your arms. I’m going to come down, and some pieces of rock may break loose. I need you to protect your head and don’t look up, no matter what happens.”
“Davey, pull your hood up over your head, too.”
Perrie kept her voice very calm, but when Mitch turned to ready himself to descend, he could see the strain in her face. Everything in her cried out to do something, he could tell. There was nothing worse than being helpless to save someone you loved.
Mitch understood that feeling only too well.
He kept his voice low so only she could hear. “I’m bringing him back up safely. You can take that to the bank.” He was not losing one more person he cared about.
Face tight with strain, she nodded. “I believe you.”
Deep within Mitch, gratitude warred with his past. She didn’t know how badly he’d failed before, but he would not let her faith be misplaced.