To my left was a sheer rock face that went straight up a good twenty feet or so. To my right was a drop off. I couldn’t tell how far down the ravine was, but I could tell it was pretty far away from how long the rocks Sunny’s hoofs sent over the edge took to fall.
My heart pounded the farther down the ridge we traveled. Every survival instinct I possessed clawed at me to turn around and go back. Had turning around been possible on the narrow trail, I might have attempted it. I might have if any person but Jesse was down there.
That’s what kept me going. That’s what I knew kept Sunny going.
Jesse.
A moment later, I felt it. The oddest sensation I’d experienced to date. As though a slack rope I hadn’t even known I’d been tied to went taut, I could go no farther. I pulled up on Sunny’s reins, but it was a wasted effort. Sunny had stopped an instant before.
We’d found him. I knew it. It wasn’t just the rope I could feel. It was him.
“Good boy, Sunny,” I praised him, rubbing his neck. “You found him.”
I slipped on the headlamp and clicked it on. It didn’t cut through as much of the dark and the rain as I would have hoped, but I could make out that the drop off from that part of the trail was less treacherous looking. It was still steep but manageable with the proper equipment and experience. I happened to have neither.
I decided on which way I’d take down into the ravine before dismounting. Trying to climb off a horse on a trail that was maybe three feet wide was no easy task, but I managed it without causing permanent injury to human or horse.
I did one final check of my planned route before taking a deep breath. “I’m going to go get him, boy. I’m bringing Jesse back.” I didn’t know who I was trying to reassure, me or Sunny, but he replied with a low neighing sound.
I didn’t stall any longer. Staring over the precipice wouldn’t get me to Jesse any faster. I lowered my right foot, and when it felt stable, I lowered my left. The slope felt just as steep as it looked, but I was doing it. I was side-stepping, grabbing a hold of any branch, rock, or vine I could to give myself a bit more balance as I continued down.
I was in action, so my heart wasn’t in my throat any longer and I didn’t feel like I was on the verge of a panic attack. I’d jumped, quite literally, and there was no going back. Not without Jesse beside me.
My old boots didn’t look anything like hiking boots, but they worked like champs on the muddy, steep, and uneven terrain. It was a bit surreal knowing a pair of black leather boots had saved me two different times in my life.
I was almost to the bottom of the ravine, not even a body length away, when I lost my foothold. The branch I’d been using as a support snapped, and I spent the last part of my descent rolling down the hill.
I groaned when I landed. The nice thing about the buckets of rain that had come down was that it had made the ground soft. Other than being a muddy mess and waking up to a few bruises in the morning, I was just fine.
I readjusted my headlamp and scanned the area. The ravine wasn’t much more than some scraggly bushes and rock, but it was enough to conceal a body. So I’d check around every bush, rock, and cranny in the whole damn ravine if that’s what it took. He was down there, I knew that. Just waiting for me to find him.
The thunder had died down almost entirely, so I held my head back and yelled his name over and over again as I searched.
No answer. No Jesse.
He was close, so close. I felt him, so why couldn’t he hear me? Why wasn’t he answering me? The only reason he wouldn’t answer was if . . . My stomach twisted into a knot.
No. I wouldn’t let myself think that. I wouldn’t think that.
He was there. He was fine.
I started moving faster, searching more frantically. I had just rounded one of the bigger shrubs I’d seen in the ravine when I tripped over something. I flew to the ground again, followed by another groan.
Scratch that: I would wake up to more than “just a few” bruises in the morning.
“Rowen?”
My heart about burst right out of my chest. I rolled over and sat up to see what I’d tripped over. Well, who I’d tripped over.
“Jesse!” I cried, crawling toward him. He was laying on the ground, his back propped up against a level rock. He was as muddy and drenched as I was and looked so beat up, my breath caught in my lungs.
“What in the hell are you doing out here?” he said, struggling to sit up. He winced, grabbed his ribs, and collapsed back down into his prior position.
“Are you all right?” I crawled closer and scanned his body for visible signs of damage.
“I’m fine,” he answered, shifting up again. That time, he made it, although from the look on his face, I would have thought someone just shoved a hot poker through his hand.
“Bull crap!” I said, noticing the way he favored his left arm. “What’s hurt?”
“Pretty sure I broke my arm.” He glanced at the arm he held carefully. “And a couple ribs.” My eyes shifted to his chest. I couldn’t see anything, but I could imagine the pain that came along with broken ribs. “And I’m going to need some stitches at the back of my head.”
I scurried behind him to inspect his head. Sure enough, dried blood matted his hair just below the crown. When I felt the stirrings of panic, I reminded myself I’d found him and that he was alive. Bones could be mended, wounds could be stitched. Jesse needed me. He needed me to be calm and clear headed for the both of us.