was close enough for her to feel the warm brush of his breath against her cheek. Awareness zinged through her. She felt the hard planes of his body against hers, his warmth radiating into her, taking away the chill that had sunk all the way to her bones. He smelled of soap and man and the subtle scent of an aftershave that brought back a jumble of memories she was crazy to think of now.
Realizing she’d nearly trespassed into territory best left alone, she eased away from him. “Where did you see the sneaker print?” she asked.
“At the base of the ravine.”
“Where do you think he went?”
Buzz studied her intently in the ribbon of light cast by his flashlight. “I don’t think he climbed back up that wall.”
The words registered slowly. Kelly’s pulse spiked, and she took another step back. “Do you think the volunteers that came through earlier missed him?”
“Maybe. Boulder SAR is a relatively new outfit. A lot of the guys are rookies. Lots of energy and training, but they lack experience.”
A starburst of hope exploded in her heart. “They didn’t look in that ravine, did they?”
“Maybe not.”
“I need to go down there.”
“All I’ve got with me is a light tactical harness. It’s pretty basic; nothing fancy. Think you can rappel down?”
It didn’t matter if she remembered how to rappel or not. Come hell or high water she was going down there. She just wouldn’t tell him she hadn’t touched a rappelling harness since they’d scaled Deep River Gorge together over six years ago. She knew him too well to tell the truth. “Of course I can.”
“The harness is minimal. Lightweight. Think you can handle it?”
She nodded, already reaching for the harness and stepping into it. “No problem.”
Reaching around her, he looped the rope through the caribiner and doubled it back over the pine tree. “I’ll spot you from up here. Keep the light on you.”
“Okay.”
“When you reach the ravine floor, unharness yourself and I’ll pull it up and meet you down there.”
Impatient now, Kelly walked over to the edge of the ravine and looked over her shoulder at the darkness below.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” Buzz asked. “If you’re not, we can rig something and go down together.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep a grip on that rope.” He plucked off his leather gloves and handed them to her. “Use these.”
Kelly put the gloves on, gripped the rope the way he’d taught her all those years ago, then turned to face him. “I’m ready.”
“Trust your equipment, Kel. Feel your way down with your feet. Trust the rope.”
“Okay, okay,” she said impatiently. “Let’s go.”
But for all her bravado and the heady rush of newfound hope, her legs were shaking. When she’d fallen earlier in the day, the fall had seemed endless. Her body remembered every rock and every broken root that had punched her on the way down. Knowing she was about to descend the very same ravine with nothing more than a nylon rope and the vague memory of a previous rappelling experience to back her was unnerving. But the fear of falling was nothing compared to the fear of never seeing her son again. She had to do this.
Wrapping the rope once around her leather-clad knuckles, she backed to the ledge, then stepped down into the ravine. Instantly she realized the darkness was going to make her descent infinitely more difficult. But knowing she didn’t have a choice, she slid her feet inches at a time. First her right foot, then her left. Branches poked at her back and legs as she broke through the brush. Adrenaline spiked through her when her hiking boots slipped on the slick granite. She dangled for an instant before swinging her legs forward then pushing off against the rock face.
By the time she reached the ravine floor, every muscle in her body quivered with exertion.
“You okay?” Buzz shouted down to her.
“Fine.” Stepping out of the harness, she slipped off the gloves and tied them to the harness. “Go ahead and pull the harness back up.”
An instant later, the harness bumped back up the rock face.
Slipping the flashlight from her fanny pack, Kelly flicked it on and shone it down on the ground. Her heart turned over when she saw the barely discernable sneaker print in the dust. Small circles with an arrow pointing toward the toe. Buzz had been right. Eddie had been here. Guilt nipped at her that she’d missed it earlier. If she’d seen it and searched the ravine, she might have been holding him safe in her arms right now.
Needing to be close to him, Kelly dropped to her knees and pressed her fingers into the dust. “Oh, sweetheart. Mommy’s coming for you.” Bowing her head, she whispered a prayer for the good Lord to keep her son safe until she reached him.
She was still kneeling when Buzz slid the last few feet down the ravine wall. “Kel?”
The first tinges of exhaustion pressed into her as she got to her feet. Kelly looked up at him, surprised to see the raw concern in his expression.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. I just need to find him.”
Tugging the radio from his belt, Buzz jerked out the antenna, adjusted the squelch and barked into it, “This is Tango Two Niner, RMSAR Homer One, do you read? Clear.”
“Hey, Tango, this is Dispatch. Any luck?”
“I’ve got tracks, and I’m wondering if Eagle is out and about. Clear.”
“National Weather Service issued a wind advisory. Eagle went back to her nest. Sighting negative. What’s your twenty?”
“I’m three miles from remote camping. East ridge of White Water.”
“It’s oh one hundred, Buzz. Dogs will be there at oh six. Please advise.”
Kelly listened to the exchange. She’d always known that Buzz was the kind of man who would be good at what he did, no matter what it was. He was competitive and driven and a perfectionist to the extreme. But somehow, the breadth and width of what he did—and how good he was at it—hadn’t fully penetrated until now. At that moment, she knew she’d done the right thing by going to him. He was the best of the best. He loved what he did, he chose his team wisely, and she knew if it was the last thing he did, he would find her son.
“Advise Lake and Chaffee counties of our twenty. Let them know we found tracks. We’re going to camp for the night. Over and out.” Buzz switched off the radio and shoved it back into his belt.
Kelly just stood there a moment before realizing she was staring at him and that he was staring back. “I’m not camping,” she said.
“You’re dead on your feet,” he returned evenly.
It was true, but that didn’t mean she was going to admit it. It sure as hell didn’t mean she was going to sleep while her son wandered around lost. But Buzz was the kind of man who took care of things. The kind of man who liked to be in charge, liked to be in control. If he knew she was exhausted, he would make sure she got rest—even if that meant calling the search to a halt until morning. Kelly didn’t intend to let that happen. “I’m not tired,” she said.
“It’s 1:00 a.m.”
“I want to keep looking.”
“We need to find a place to camp for the night. Get a couple of hours of sleep—”
“Dammit, Buzz, I’m not going to stop! We just found his tracks, for Pete’s sake. If we keep going we could find him before morning.”
“If