Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)(38)

Garrett frowned. "But I need assistance. Someone to—"

"I'm not… as badly injured as I first thought. I—" A sob rose from below. "Please."

Poor woman. She must be so frightened. Garrett closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. He had not the heart to leave her. He bit back a curse and stood. "Stay still, miss. I'll fetch a rope from my saddlebag." He hurried toward Ashe, wrenched the bag open, and yanked on the end of the rope he always carried for emergencies. Garrett swallowed hard and shook his head. This was most certainly an emergency.

His hands shook as he strung out the rope. What if he couldn't rescue her? He couldn't just leave her down there to die. There must be a way for him to accomplish this task. Garrett eyed his horse as an idea formed. Would it work? Fortunately, he had a horse that was obedient to a fault. Will Ashe stay true to his reputation?

He tied one end of the rope through the D-rings on Ashe's saddle and hoped the girth wouldn't break or slip. He led the horse closer to the edge of the hole and gave Ashe the signal to remain still.

Then Garrett crawled to the well's opening, cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, and shouted. "I'm coming down for you. I'll try to land as near the center as I can. Please stay toward one side of the well." He waited.

"I'll try."

Relief flooded Garrett's body. The woman was at least still coherent.

He tightened his grasp on the rope and slid over the top on his stomach, feet first. Ashe staggered back a few steps when Garrett's weight hit the rope.

"Ashe. Stand."

Garrett walked backward down the well's wall, letting the rope out hand over hand. The rope burned his palms when he lost his grip and slid for a few seconds. His heart jumped and he sucked in air. What a catastrophe it would be if he fell and injured himself as well.

The farther he descended into the pit, the lower the temperature dropped, and his earlier perspiration vanished. In its place were cold chills, like icy fingers down his back. How long had the poor woman been down there? It would be a miracle if she didn't end up with an illness, if she even survived the experience.

Garrett's muscles strained as he gripped the rope in his gloved hands. His boots squeaked against the damp stone wall. Would the rope hold up under the weight of two people? He finally touched solid ground under one foot and loosened his grasp on the rope, but didn't let go.

She had to be here somewhere… He waited a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. There, behind him, a shapeless form huddled against the wall, her breathing loud like that of a frightened deer.

"Miss? Are you in tremendous pain from your ankle?"

Garrett's eyes finished adjusting. The woman was small. Long dark tendrils of hair hung loose from her hat. Large, wide eyes glistened in the gloom, disappeared when she blinked, then reappeared. Blue, brown, green? Impossible to tell in the low light.

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid so." Her eyes glistened. Was she crying? "I thank you for rescuing me. I thought…" She glanced up toward the top of the well. "How will we get out? It's too far and I c-can't climb with my injury."

"Leave it to me. I have a plan. Can you stand?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure."

"All right, I'm going to lean down close to you and help you up. Are you ready?"

"I think s-so."

Garrett leaned down and took her hand. Her fingers were icy. He gently pulled her toward him, gritting his teeth when she gasped from the pain. She lifted her face to him, closed her eyes briefly, and then nodded. "I c-can do it."

He shook out the rope's kinks, watching her chest rise and fall. One breath, two… the third slower and deeper. She straightened against the stone wall, balancing on one foot, holding the other foot just above the ground and leaning her palms against the wall.

Yes, she'll make it to the top. Reassured, Garrett wound the rope around them and tied it in a slipknot. Her slight form was pressed against him, shivering, icy, damp. She gripped his arms. There wasn't enough room between them for her hands to be anywhere else.

"Now I'm going to signal my horse up above to walk on, pulling us up. The signal will be loud, so cover your ears."

He waited until both of her hands were over her ears and then gave a shrill, long whistle. His heartbeat thumped painfully against his ribs when the rope remained still. Had something happened to Ashe? What would Garrett do if that were the case? A few more agonizing seconds passed. The rope stirred. Garrett's breath blew out in a relieved whoosh.

He wrapped his arms around the woman, ducking his chin over her, and pressed her head against his chest. "Miss, pull your arms in. Place your hands on my chest." She slid her hands from his shoulders, slowly snaking her fingers between them, inch by inch until her elbows no longer stuck out.

"Good. Try to stay as close to me as possible."

She nodded. Her breathing quickened, blowing tiny puffs against Garrett's neck.

The rope jerked, yanking them around. Garrett stuck his elbow out, pushing against the stone. The poor woman would be in agony if her injured leg banged the wall. The rope spun again and Garrett kicked with his boot. He squeezed the woman tight. She yelped. But better to be crushed to his chest than scraped unmercilessly against that rough stone.

"Close your eyes, miss." Garrett shut his, too, as tiny pieces of stone rained down from where the rope slid over the well's lip. Closer to the top, the ride smoothed out. Garrett swallowed against a lump in his throat, thankful they were almost safe.