Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 47977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
I don’t say anything, because what can I say? But instead, I hold her shaking body close to my chest and place kisses on the side of her head. I want so desperately to take away her pain, but I’m completely at a loss as to how I can.
The mountain man reaches us and places Holly on her feet next to me. Holly stands in place and watches the man walk toward the edge and peer over the side. I’m nervous for him, since the snow and ice all around doesn’t make the ledge a safe place for anyone to be. He falls to his knees and leans over more—so much so that I prepare myself to pull him back from his own death if I have to.
Holly—who hasn’t moved—cries out, “Violet, why? Why?”
Ember clings to my shirt and sobs even louder.
“I think I see her,” the man calls out. “She’s down there. I see her.”
I release Ember and charge toward the edge myself. “Alive?” I ask.
“I don’t know… but she didn’t fall all the way. A tree branch stopped her. She’s caught in the tree.”
Ember and Holly both start toward the edge, but I turn around and put out my hand to stop them. “Don’t come any closer. It’s slick here!”
“Is she alive? Oh my God! Is she alive?” Ember asks, her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she trembles in place.
It kills me to see the woman I love appear so unhinged. I want Violet to be alive for her own sake, but also for Ember’s. I’m not sure she’d survive this if Violet truly is dead.
“Please tell me you can see if she’s breathing,” Holly calls out.
I lean myself over the edge, and the mountain man holds onto the back of my shirt to make sure I don’t slip off. He’s right. Violet is about twenty feet down or so, stopped by the large limbs of a cedar that has grown from the mountain.
“I see her!” I say as I try to focus on if she’s moving at all or if I can see her chest rising. “I can’t tell if she’s breathing.”
But then I hear a moan and see a slight movement of Violet’s head.
“She’s moving! She’s moving!” I shout, turning my head to look at the man. I then refocus my attention on Violet. “Violet! Don’t move. If you can hear me, you stay still! Don’t move an inch. We’re coming for you.”
“She’s alive?” Holly screams, running to the edge of the cliff, regardless of my warning. Luckily, Ember has regained some sense and is pulling Holly back to a safer distance.
“We’ll get to her,” I say, not sure exactly how we will, but no fucking way will I allow her to die down there alone.
She may have every single bone in her body broken, and death may be inevitable, but she’ll die in her sister’s arms, knowing she’s loved. Not alone. Not cold. Not on the side of a cliff.
The stranger, who has yet to give me any indication as to who he is, says, “Go get us some rope. Quick!” His voice is gruff, as if he hasn’t used it in years.
Holly spins on her heels and charges toward the house. I look up at Ember and tell her, “Don’t worry. We’ll get her.”
Tears are flowing down her face, but for the first time since running out here, I see some sanity returning to her expression. Hope is soothing the madness away.
I turn to the cliff and scoot my belly a little closer so I can get a better look. I’m not sure how we’re going to reach her, and I hope Mountain Man has an idea. I already know my phone isn’t working, and the hike out of here will take too long. So, any chance of rescue will rest solely on us. Holly returns quickly with an armful of thick rope. It’s dirty, tattered, and frayed in some places, but it does appear intact.
The stranger takes the rope from her and runs toward the nearest tree, which sadly is only an aspen, and not even a fully matured one at that. The thick-trunked pine trees are too far, and no way will the rope reach them. I’m not sure the aspen is strong enough to hold Violet’s weight, let alone the stranger’s or mine, but we don’t really have a choice.
The mountain man must be thinking the same as me, because he calls out, “I’m not sure this tree will hold my weight. I’m going to need you to also hold the other end and try to bear the majority of my weight.” He continues to tie the rope around the tree and looks up at me for confirmation that I’m on the same page as him.
Jesus Christ, we’re doing this.