Chapter 3

3

At Smoke's yipping from the trail above, Maisy bolted awake.

Immediately her teeth started chattering, the cold temperature of the night having penetrated through the layers of her coat and clothing. After sitting on the ledge all day with a cold October breeze hitting her, she'd already been chilled to the bone when darkness had fallen hours ago.

But after nightfall and the steady drop in the temperature, she'd grown even more miserable, her limbs stiff, her toes and fingers numb, her face raw. She'd tried to stay awake, knowing she needed to continue to generate warmth in her body throughout the long night. But at the late hour, exhaustion had made her sluggish, and she'd finally decided to rest for an hour or two.

Another wolf yip sounded in the air. Smoke had lingered on the trail after she'd fallen onto the ledge and had watched her for long hours as she'd attempted to scale the cliff wall, searching for hand and footholds. But no matter how many times she'd tried to hoist herself up, she'd always slipped back down. The cliff was too steep and the ledge too far down.

When she'd finally admitted defeat and lowered herself to the ground, Smoke had disappeared and had been gone ever since. She'd hoped and prayed that he was seeking help in some way—although she wasn't sure how. And now he was back.

She tried to push herself up, but painful prickles in her arms and legs stopped her.

"Smoke?" The word was hoarse.

A softer bark replied.

She lifted her head and peered up through the darkness. Moonlight illuminated Smoke's head peeking over the side, his eyes glowing. She'd hoped to see a neighbor with him, maybe even her pa. But the wolf was alone.

Her heart thudded a slow beat of despair. Without the help, she wasn't going anywhere.

"Thanks for trying," she croaked to the wolf.

Smoke lifted his head and stared up the trail before turning back to her and whining.

She wasn't sure she'd be able to survive the night, especially since the temperature had gone down even more over the past hour. The truth was, she had to get up and keep moving—as much as she could on the ledge.

If she could make it through the night, she'd buy more time. Maybe Smoke would be able to find help tomorrow. Or maybe someone would come by.

Once again, Smoke raised his head and barked, this time without stopping.

Was that the wolf's plan, to bark the rest of the night? She wasn't sure what good that would do. Lester Acker was two miles away, and it would take a miracle for him to hear the noise.

"I'm coming." A voice called from somewhere on the trail. A man's voice.

"Help!" Her pulse leapt, and this time she pushed herself up to her feet in spite of the pain. "Help me, please!"

Smoke stopped his yipping.

"Maisy?" The voice grew louder and sounded like Tanner's.

"I'm here!"

In the next instant, lantern light glowed on the trail above, and Tanner was crouching beside Smoke, his keen eyes taking in her predicament. He was wearing his usual coonskin cap, buckskin jacket with shoulder fringes, and thick leather gloves. "You injured?"

"Nope, just a few scrapes and bruises." Thankfully, that was all. "And I'm cold enough to put goose bumps on a burning log."

He scanned the ledge and then the cliffside. "I'll have to fetch a rope."

She nodded. "It's the only way."

He took her in, his face etched with worry lines. His cheeks and jaw were more angular than she remembered, the layer of scruff darker. His hair was cropped neatly—shorter than normal—and his brows furrowed above his rounded eyes.

She stared right back at him, relief mingling with something she couldn't name. She only knew that she loved seeing him there on the trail, loved knowing he'd been willing to follow Smoke, loved that he'd cared enough to come.

With a final scan of her face, he began to back away from the edge. "I'll be right back." He disappeared, taking the light with him, leaving her in darkness again with Smoke standing guard above her.

Her heart tapped out her relief. Tanner was here. She would be safe now.

In no time at all, he was back, kneeling above her and lowering a rope that he'd looped. "How long have you been stuck?"

She gave him the short version of everything that had happened as she hoisted her rucksack to her back and then climbed as he simultaneously tugged her upward.

When she was near the top, he reached down and latched on to her arm. "You're fortunate you landed on the ledge and didn't keep falling."

"You don't have to tell me that." She'd counted her blessings numerous times throughout the day. She'd been reminding herself that, even though she was stuck, the situation could've been much worse.

His frown held censure. "You should have known better than to head out on slick trails."

"All I could think about was getting Nelly help." She'd been foolish and tired and worried. And he was right. She should have waited. Little good she'd done her sister, trapped on the ledge all day.

With one of his hands hauling her up with the rope and the other now gripping her body, he pulled her the rest of the distance—which was fine with her since she was cold and weak and didn't have much energy left.

He dragged her over the cliffside, away from the drop. Before she knew what he was doing, he was hefting her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her in a hug.

She didn't quite know what to make of the hug and didn't move for several seconds. But as he tightened his hold, she let herself relax against him and embraced him.

"Thank the good Lord you're safe," he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

His nose and his warm breath caressed her bare skin. They'd never had any physical contact before except briefly in passing. The sensation of his touch and his closeness was different and new.

Now every part of her body was flush against every part of his—or at least, it seemed that way. Her backside was pressed against his hard thighs, her face burrowed into his broad chest, and her hands gripped his taut back.

The feel of him wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it was comforting, as if she'd finally reached a solid and safe place. A part of her mind tried to remind her that Tanner was neither solid nor safe. He was a mountain man like her pa and was everything she didn't want in a man.

But for the moment, she thrust aside the warning and simply rested against him, basking in his comfort. In spite of his body heat, she was still much too cold, and at a gust of wind blowing against her, she shuddered.

He lifted his head so that he was gazing at her, their faces only inches apart. The lantern on the ground beside him cast enough light over his face that she could see every handsome detail of his features. And somehow, after the weeks of not seeing him, he seemed different. Older, perhaps. Sadder. More serious.

The dark brown of his eyes radiated worry. "You're freezing."

She didn't want to move from their position, was afraid that once he released her, he'd never hold her again like this. So she gripped the back of his coat, digging her fingers into the soft leather. "I'm okay now."

He shook his head. "Let's get you inside and warmed up."

She breathed in his outdoorsy scent—a mixture of pine and woodsmoke. Then she gave herself a mental shake. What was she doing, acting like an infatuated girl around him, letting her head be turned so easily?

With a huff, she released him and started to stand. Before she could get too far, he rose and scooped her off her feet in one motion. As he straightened, he held her in both arms and cradled her against his chest—an expanse of chest that rivaled the wide, mountain peaks that rose above them.

"I can walk, Tanner." Her protest was feeble at best.

"I know." He started forward. "But I want to help."

She didn't struggle to free herself. Instead, she latched her arms around his neck, once again unable to contain the thrill of feeling his body against hers.

For as much as she liked the charming and flirtatious Tanner who could make her smile and laugh and forget about her worries, she liked this mature and concerned Tanner even better. Maybe because men usually didn't show all that much concern over her well-being. Maybe because most of the time she had to be strong enough on her own. Maybe because she wanted someone she could lean on once in a while.

He climbed back up the hill effortlessly, managing to balance her and the lantern. Smoke raced ahead, stopping near Tanner's horse, which thankfully was used to seeing the wolf and didn't react.

The cabin was dark and the door ajar. And even though she didn't want to think about anyone or anything except for Tanner and how much she liked being in his arms, the responsibility of caring for Nelly raced back to confront her.

"Can I borrow your horse, Tanner?" She pulled back enough that she could gaze upon his face and gauge his expression. "I need to leave. Now. And go after the doctor for Nelly."

He didn't respond and his footsteps didn't waver as he continued toward the cabin. The only reaction she could see was a twitch in his upper lip—a very handsome upper lip, if she did say so herself. It was strong but slightly curled in a way that hinted at his easy smile.

But at the moment, he offered her no smile. His brows only slanted into a frown.

"I know what you're gonna say," she continued hurriedly. "That I should wait till the morning. But I can't. She's so sick and needs the help quick-like."

He bumped the door wide and stepped inside. The lantern illuminated the cluttered room, unchanged from the way she'd left it earlier in the day, including Nelly, who still lay motionless on the bed.

"Maisy," Tanner started in a serious tone.

"Please don't start acting all protective, big guy." It would be dangerous to travel during the night, which was why she'd waited until dawn to leave. But with the bright moon out, she'd at least have some light for the journey. And if she went by horse, she'd have a much easier time than traveling by foot.

"Listen." Smoke crept into the cabin, and Tanner toed the door closed behind the creature. "If anyone was going back out tonight, it would be me—"

"That's not fair."

"You could have died out there, Maisy." His tone was laced with frustration.

"But I didn't."

He moved toward the table and placed the lantern down. She could feel him getting ready to set her back on her feet, so she clung to his neck. She wasn't sure why she didn't want to let go yet, but she didn't.

He seemed to drag in a deep breath, as though bracing himself. Then he spoke in a rush. "Neither of us needs to go out for the doctor, because Nelly died."

Maisy's heartbeat halted, and her gaze swung to the bed and to Nelly's pale face. Nelly hadn't made it. "Are you sure?" Maisy wriggled to free herself, needing to go to her sister to test the truth for herself.

This time Tanner clung to her. "I'm positive. I came to the cabin first, and she was gone."

At the gravity of his tone, Maisy ceased struggling, closed her eyes, and held back the rush of heated tears. Although she'd known Nelly had given up the will to live and would likely die, the loss still hit with a blow of overwhelming grief.

"I'm sorry, darlin'." Tanner's words were soft and filled with compassion.

The sting of tears only burned hotter, and she couldn't hold them back. They squeezed out and ran down her cheeks. When she pushed against Tanner again, he set her on her feet but held on to her arms for a moment longer than necessary, as though he wanted to comfort her but didn't quite know how.

She had the strange need to fall against him and seek his comfort somehow, but she forced herself to break away and cross to the bed and her sister's body. She laid a hand against Nelly's cheek, and the cold pallor told her that the life had been gone a while, maybe all day.

Maisy wanted to blame herself. If only she'd left a few days ago. If only she'd known how to doctor Nelly herself. If only she'd been able to figure out a way to encourage Nelly not to give up. And maybe all of it was true. Maybe she could've done more.

Even as guilt rose swiftly inside her, she let the simmering resentment toward her pa and Glenn bubble up. They were ultimately at fault. They should have returned earlier, especially since they knew Nelly had had a previous stillbirth that had been hard on her. The two should have realized the potential for problems this time and made a point of being around close to the birthing.

Maisy caressed her sister's cheek. Nelly had always had such a sweet spirit and gentle smile. She'd been generous and kind and loving, had taken care of Maisy and looked after her every need for so many years. Maisy couldn't have asked for a better sister.

Course, she hadn't agreed with all of Nelly's decisions, particularly her choice to marry Glenn and follow in their ma's footsteps. She'd encouraged Nelly to find a different man, one who could give her a better life. But Nelly had married Glenn regardless of Maisy's pleading.

If only Nelly had listened . . .

Maisy swallowed the regrets and the bitterness. It wouldn't do any good to think about what could've been. All she could do was learn from her sister's mistakes and not repeat them for herself.

At the brush of an arm against hers, she sensed Tanner's desire to be there for her during this hard time. He was a steadfast friend to have come all the way to the cabin with Smoke. And he was a steadfast friend to stand by her side now.

She took off her Stetson and tossed it onto the end of the bed, then let her body sag against him.

He slipped his arm around her back and braced her up as though lending her his strength. She wasn't so proud and independent that she would refuse his offer.

For long moments, she stood there against him, watching Nelly, letting the tears fall and silently grieving the loss of so beautiful a woman.

"If Pa hadn't dragged us out here with him," Maisy whispered, "it might not have ended this way."

"I agree," Tanner whispered in response.

"Really?" She swiped the tears from her cheeks.

Tanner stared down at Nelly, his jaw rigid. "In my opinion, mountain men who get married are only thinking about their own needs and not what's best for their wife and children."

"Those are my thoughts exactly. But I didn't realize you felt the same way."

He cast her a sideways glance before focusing back on Nelly. "Why do you think I'm still single?"

"I always thought it was because no woman could put up with how ornery you are." Even in the midst of the grief of losing Nelly, she couldn't overlook a chance to tease Tanner.

His upper lip quirked into half a grin. "That too."

She bumped her shoulder against his arm. "Sometimes I've wondered if I'm crazy for feeling the way I do about this life, about being left behind so often by the menfolk."

He gently bumped her back. "No, you're not crazy. It's not fair of your pa to come and go as he pleases, leaving you responsible for so much while he's away for such long stretches."

The affirmation brought tears to her eyes again, and she had to blink rapidly to keep them from spilling over. "Ever since I turned eighteen, Pa's been talking about having me marry one of his partners up in Wyoming."

Tanner stiffened. "He's never said anything to me about that."

"I told him I'd rather throw myself off the edge of a cliff."

"Oh, so that's what you did this morning?" Tanner's voice held the familiar note of teasing that she loved so much.

"Yep, you figured me out."

"I'm sure Cleveland wasn't too happy about you telling him no."

That was an understatement. Her pa had ranted on and on at her declaration. "He can't understand why I want a normal life with a normal husband. Nelly didn't understand either."

"I understand. Don't let him pressure you into something you don't want."

"I won't. I'm holding out for a pretty house in town—one with two stories and painted shutters, a front porch with a swing, and a fenced-in backyard with bird feeders and space to take care of all the baby animals that need nurturing."

Tanner's arm brushed against hers, and she liked the feel of him by her side. She liked it a lot. And she was glad she didn't have to face Nelly's death alone.