Dana Mentink

Escape from the Badlands


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driver’s window, heart thudding, praying that the water hadn’t overwhelmed the old cat and swept her away.

       Gripping the edge of the window, she slid off the car and into the water, which now poured around her torso. Pulling herself even with the window, she was elated to see Paddy Paws, wet and shivering, clinging to the headrest.

       “Thank You, God,” she whispered. “I’m here, Paddy. I’m coming to get you.”

       She reached out to the cat, and the terrified animal whisked up her arm, clinging to her back, claws sinking into her skin. Though the pain brought tears to her eyes, she persevered, finding the rope in the water and hauling herself onto the trunk in preparation to climb back up, when the car suddenly lurched. Jerked backward, Kelly toppled into the flood, fighting panic as the water closed over her head. Her eyes burned, and she tumbled so violently she could not decide which way led to the surface. Waves tugged and pulled at her, letting go long enough for her to suck in a breath, coughing and sputtering. In spite of her frantic splashing, she felt the press of water sucking her back under.

       She tried to fight her way back to the rock wall, but the ferocious violence of the water sent her spiraling. Her lungs burned and pain shot through her as she banged into rocks that tumbled loose in the water.

       Something grabbed her by the jacket and she fought to free herself.

       She couldn’t get loose. Eyes stinging and lungs burning, she broke the surface and found herself firmly in the grip of Shane Mason. His eyes glittered in a pale face, a sheaf of wet bangs plastered over his forehead, stubble of beard catching the droplets that ran down his face. He held a rope with one hand and quickly tied it around her waist.

       “I’ve got to get the cat…” she gasped.

       He didn’t let her finish, but yelled for someone to hoist her up. Then he disappeared into the thundering water.

       Kelly was frozen to the spot, unsure if Shane had lost his footing or dived into the water intentionally. The tug of the rope at her waist left her no time to ponder as she was slowly hauled up to the top. All the while her eyes pored over the flooded canyon for any sign of Shane or Paddy. Her heart squeezed. Had she just made him risk his life?

       She gritted her teeth to stop them from chattering and peered into the water until she crested the top of the canyon. A big, crew-cut man with silver hair helped her over the edge. He looked familiar, though she couldn’t place him.

       Water beaded in the deep grooves on his forehead. “You all right?”

       Her head spun, still dizzy from being tumbled like laundry in the wash. “Where’s Charlie?”

       “The boy’s okay.” He pointed to Charlie, who was now wrapped in a slicker and sitting in the front seat of a van, being tended to by a lady with a thick braid.

       She felt a surge of relief as she followed the man back to the edge. They both peered down into the violent water.

       “Do you see him?” she whispered, a ripple of dread surging through her.

       “Not yet, but he’s a strong swimmer. Must have slipped off the rocks when he was helping you.”

       She heard the condemnation in the man’s voice. “What can we do?”

       “Nothing,” he said, his face grim. “It’s up to him now.”

       The minutes ticked by in painful slow motion.

       Slowly, the rain died away, leaving the canyon quiet except for the rush of water and the crackle of the radio as the man relayed the situation to someone on the other end. Kelly felt as if she was trapped in some sort of bad movie, only the script wasn’t quite right. It was not her love who fought for his life below. Shane was a man she used to love, until he turned out to be someone else. Now he was just a stranger.

       A stranger who had put his life at risk for hers.

       Anger pricked her insides. Why had he bothered?

       The answer came quickly. Because he hadn’t known it was her and Charlie. As far as he knew, it was some hapless traveler, and he’d lent a hand because it was in his character to do so. She wondered if she would have the chance to thank him before they parted ways again. Permanently.

       She peered harder into the gloom, hoping he would reappear at any moment. She looked for Paddy Paws as well, and thought about the little boy waiting in the van for his cat’s safe return. How would she tell him that Paddy was gone? Just like Rose? And how would she feel if Shane didn’t come back?

       The man gave her a nervous look. “Maybe you should go wait in the van. You’re shivering.”

       She hardly heard him. A movement caught her eye at the base of the cliff some twenty feet away. “I just saw…”

       He saw it, too, and they both ran, slipping and stumbling until they reached the overhanging rock. The man let down a rope, securing the other end and using his body as an anchor to take some of the weight.

       Soon the rope grew taut as the bedraggled figure on the other end began to climb slowly to the top. Kelly found the tension in her gut ratcheting up the closer he came until Shane appeared, face contorted with effort.

       As the man heaved backward on the rope, Shane crawled over and made it to his feet. His face was torn and bleeding, but the eyes—those eyes which she knew to be a startling blue—were lively as ever. Her legs trembled.

       There was nothing in his hands. Even Shane, the unstoppable outdoorsman, hadn’t been able to save Paddy.

       She swallowed hard, her nurse’s training overriding the strange feeling of misery and relief that coursed through her. She ran to him, stopping so quickly her feet skidded on the slick ground. “Are you hurt?”

       He shook the water from his hair. “Only scratched.” She saw several sets of parallel gouges on his exposed forearms and one nasty set on his cheek.

       Her eyes widened. “Did you…?”

       He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a very wet and terrified cat. “So tell me why I nearly killed myself to save this ungrateful cat?”

       Shane watched Kelly’s face shift from unsettled to joyful in a quick second.

       Her expression made his chest tighten.

       “Paddy,” she cried, scooping the soggy cat from his arms.

       He watched her stroke the exhausted animal, grateful for the darkness that covered his rush of emotion. He’d grown used to surprises, even craved them, but this one left him reeling. Kelly Cloudman. Here. Her smile fired every nerve inside him.

       He saw from the uncertainty on her face that she was as disarmed as he was.

       “Thank you,” she said finally. “For helping me and Paddy.”

       He shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.”

       Gleeson broke in. “Matthews, you were supposed to be standing down until the storm passed. Didn’t you hear me say Ackerman ordered us off?”

       Shane slicked his wet hair out of his face and kept his eyes on Gleeson, praying Kelly would not ask about his fictional last name. “I don’t take orders from Ackerman or anyone else.”

       Gleeson’s chin went up. “Yeah? Well, you may have just cost yourself a spot in the race.”

       Shane shrugged. “So be it.”

       “So be it?” Gleeson seemed to puff up in anger. “Listen, kid. I gave you a shot and took you on as a partner, but you still have to meet the qualifications and you definitely have to follow orders. I’m in this thing to win, and I don’t need you going cowboy and messing things up for me.”

       A woman Shane recognized as a fellow racer got out of the van and joined them in time to hear Gleeson’s outburst. “He had a good reason.”

       Gleeson wasn’t mollified. “He risked his