Chapter 26
Colorado, 1867
Buck crested the rocky incline, the wind whipping at his hat as he scanned the rugged path ahead. His thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched shriek that tore through the air. Buck's heart lurched. He flung himself off his horse, the animal snorting in surprise, and spun around, fear gripping him.
"Róise!" He roared, his voice echoing in the vast emptiness.
Another scream, laced with terror, answered him. Time twisted and stretched as Buck's eyes frantically searched the rocky terrain. Then he saw her – a flash of brown hair against the gray stone, a crumpled form wedged into a narrow crevice halfway down the steep cliff face. Róisín clung to a gnarled tree root, her face twisted with terror, her eyes wide and frantic. The horse stood riderless a few yards away, grazing oblivious to its owner's plight.
"Róise!" Buck bellowed again, his voice laced with urgency. "Hold on!"
He scrambled towards the cliff edge, ignoring the loose gravel that clattered under his boots. Reaching the precipice, he peered down at her. Her knuckles were white as she grasped the root, her body trembling precariously.
"Buck!" she shrieked, tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face. "I-I can't hold on much longer!"
Buck felt a cold dread creep into his stomach. The fall may not kill her, not from that height, but the jagged rocks below promised a world of pain. He knelt at the edge, reaching out a hand. "Give me your hand, Róisín. Trust me!"
Róisín's eyes met his. With a shaky breath, she released the tree root and reached for his hand. He pulled her towards him, the rough leather of his glove scraping against her palm. Inch by agonizing inch, he hauled her up. Her body came free of the crevice, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she dangled precariously in mid-air.
Buck held on with a white-knuckled grip, his muscles straining. Time stood still, the wind whipping at their faces, carrying with it the scent of fear and desperation. Finally, with gritted teeth against the pain that flared in his ribs Buck used all the strength he had and pulled her onto the ledge, collapsing beside her.
He held her close, his arms wrapped around her trembling body. He could feel her heartbeat flutter against his chest. Slowly, her breathing began to even out, the sobs racking her body subsiding into soft whimpers.
"We're gonna die out here aren't we?" Róisín clung to him.
"It's gonna be fine," he said with conviction. "You need to stay strong." He forced a smile and kissed her forehead. "You keep thinking of that ocean."
A flicker of a smile played on her lips. "The ocean," she whispered.
A wistful smile played on Buck's lips. "This summer," he murmured, his voice low and laced with exhaustion, "we'll be on the coast. Barefoot on the sand, feelin' the ocean spray kiss your face." His gaze drifted towards the horizon, painting a picture with his words, a picture far removed from their current reality.
Buck drew her in tighter, the gesture mirroring the newfound resolve solidifying within him. They sat in a weary silence for several minutes. Exhaustion hung heavy in the air, a shared weight that pressed down on them both. Battered and bruised, they found solace in each other's presence.
"We need to get moving," Buck said finally, his voice gentle yet firm.
He led her carefully back up the ravine. The fall hadn't seemed to injure her beyond a few scrapes and bruises, but the terror lingered in her posture, a tight knot of tension in her shoulders.
"It's just a few more miles," he announced, directing his horse towards a less steep incline. "Just passed the treeline ahead."
Róisín nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. They rode in tense silence, the echo of her fall a constant reminder of their vulnerability. As the sun dipped below the horizon Buck spotted a flicker of light in the distance.