“There’s a way into that ravine. You just have to take the long way around if you don’t want to or can’t take the ridge. If he’s down there, we’ll find him, Rowen. We’re not going to leave him alone.”

“Yes, but you just said the long way around. How much time does that take?”

“A half a day—or night, in this case—on horseback,” he answered.

“If he’s hurt, he could be . . . he could be . . .” I couldn’t get it out, so I clamped my mouth shut.

“Were doing our best, Rowen,” Justin said quietly. “We all like Jesse. We’d all risk our necks for him, but going out on that ridge would be like throwing your life away. No one would make it to him before they fell over the side, too.”

When Justin moved to pass by again, I let him.

I felt helpless. I was helpless.

Or was I?

With Rose and Justin preoccupied in the storage closet, I threw open the door and stared at the barn. A loud, almost frantic whinny came from it.

I could do it. I would do it.

I retrieved my ratty combat boots from the shoe basket beside the door, pulled them on, and raced for the barn. Justin was right. The rain was coming down so hard, I couldn’t see too far in front of me.

Once I was inside the barn, I slowed just long enough to snag one of the rain coats and headlamps hanging just inside and made my way down the row of stalls. I didn’t have long. Rose and Justin would have their supplies packed, and as soon as she knew I’d disappeared, Rose would figure out what I was up to. She wouldn’t let me go and do what I was about to do. She’d throw me down and sit on me if she had to, but I wouldn’t sit around when Jesse needed me.

Most of the stalls were empty. Another loud whinny came from one of the stalls a bit farther down, and I almost cried when I saw who it was.

Sunny was as wet and muddy as Justin. He was in his stall, pacing around and rearing up onto his back legs every few paces. He acted as frantic as I felt. Justin must have led him back, and thankfully, he was still saddled and bridled.

Jesse had showed me how to both saddle and bridle a horse, but I wasn’t especially quick at it. Right then, time was critical.

“Whoa, boy,” I said, as calmly as I could. “Are you worried about Jesse, too?” After slipping into the rain coat, I reached for the gate and slowly slid it open. From the crazed look in Sunny’s eyes, I worried he’d come barreling out of the stall as soon as I opened it.

Sunny flung his head about a few more times, then went as calm as a high-spirited horse like Sunny could go. I slid the gate the rest of the way open and grabbed ahold of Sunny’s reins. He let me lead him out of the stall and even stood still for me when I lifted my foot up into the stirrup. In all the times Jesse and I had gone out for evening rides, I’d never ridden Sunny. I usually rode Lily’s horse, Buttercup. The only time I rode Sunny was if Jesse was on him with me. Sunny didn’t like any other riders except for Jesse. The couple ranch hand show-offs I’d seen try it had been thrown within five seconds.

And there I was, someone who’d never ridden a horse before that summer, about to ride a one-man horse into the worst possible riding conditions. My survival instincts apparently took a vacation when I knew Jesse was in trouble.

I shifted my weight into the stirrup and swung my other leg up and over. I grimaced the entire time, bracing my body for Sunny to throw me off as soon as I settled into the saddle. A few seconds later, I opened my eyes to make sure I was in the saddle, on top of Sunny.

Sure enough.

Buttercup never even stood so steady and she was a twenty-year-old mare who could barely manage a trot anymore.

“Okay, Sunny,” I said, grabbing hold of the reins. “I’m going to need your help, buddy. I need you to help me find Jesse.” I slid the rain coat hood over my head and squeezed Sunny’s sides. He moved. He actually accepted a command from someone other than Jesse. “Take me to Jesse.” We emerged from the barn into the same sheets of rain. Sunny whinnied, and I just barely made out a form looking out the kitchen window. So much for my head start.

Grabbing onto the saddle horn as well, I clucked my tongue, and Sunny sprang to life.

Other than holding on for dear life and trying not to fall out of the saddle, I let Sunny do the rest. He raced past the corrals, past the driveway, and turned without any prompting from me. He really was taking me to Jesse. Sunny charged down the dirt road I’d driven a few times when I had to take lunch out to the guys working in the upper fields.

It wasn’t a dirt road anymore. It was a mud road. Sunny lost his footing a few times in the sludge, but I managed to stay in the saddle. Clumps of mud hit me from every angle, and the rain, at our speed, hurt my face until it finally went numb. It was the most rain I’d ever seen, and I’d grown up in Portland, Oregon.

Sunny charged ahead like he was the underdog in the Kentucky Derby. He did all the work, he blazed the trail; all I did was manage to hold on. So why did I feel so damn exhausted by the time Sunny’s gallop slowed? Might have had something to do with being soaked to the bone and my lower half being all tingly and numb from bouncing around in the saddle.

We were long past the spot I’d dropped the guys’ lunch off. I couldn’t tell how far, but I knew it was miles farther. The rain was slowing, so the visibility had slightly improved, but when I saw where Sunny was heading, I kind of wished I couldn’t see a thing again.

We were winding down a trail that continued to narrow. Where we were, the trail was wide enough for two riders to travel side by side, but every few feet, it got narrower and narrower until, finally, it seemed barely wide enough for Sunny and me.

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.