Page 4 of I’d Never Date my Best Friend…Again

With a final bark, he trots toward me, and I crouch to rub him down briefly. “Good boy.” I lead him down the trail by a tree before saying, “Stay.”

My heart beats wildly as I look around trying to figure out the best way to save Penny. I don’t want to worry about Tex falling over, so I repeat the instruction to him again and then I approach the cliff.

I can’t see her head, so I know she’s pretty far down. My mind races with all the little options I have.

“Liam, are y-you still there?”

“I’m not going anywhere until you’re safe,” I respond, ensuring my voice is devoid of emotion. “What are you holding on to?”

“A branch.”

“Okay.” I take one step forward, and the ground gives way, sending a pile of stones crumbling down. “I’m so sorry,” I say quickly. “Did any of that hit you?”

“No. I’m good.”

I try another spot on the ground, which is more solid, so I can put all of my weight on it. “Do you have any leg support?”

“Yes, but it’s weak. I’m not sure how much longer it will hold.”

“Don’t panic,” I answer, my eyes narrowed. “I’ll get you out of there.”

“I trust you,” Penny says in a shaky voice.

I take off my backpack and pull out the paracord I have in there. The military drilled me into being prepared for anything, and just for this moment, I am grateful that I’ve continued that practice. I have to help her—fast. I don’t know how long she’s been hanging, but her muscles are probably starting to cramp.

I feel my panic start to rise and work to calm myself with deep breathing. In the Army, during search and rescue missions, you’re asked to drop a case if they find out you’re related to the victim because seeing them in pain will cloud your judgment and reflexes, much like what’s happening now.

However, in rare cases where you have to save those you love from harm, they taught us a relaxation technique and a breathing control method. I recall this technique and use it. When I'm composed, I look around to see where to anchor the rope. I notice a smaller tree nearby and wrap it around the base.

“Penny, I want you to listen to me carefully. I’m going to throw some rope down. Do you remember how to do a one-handed bowline?”

“Liam, I don’t know if I can. It’s been years since I’ve done one. I’m scared I’ll fall if I let go of one hand; my arms are so tired.”

“Penelope Miller, you listen to me right now. I am going to throw this rope down to you, and you are going to grab it. Do you hear me?” There is no way that she is falling from this cliff. I will get her up, but I need her not to quit on me. I don’t wait for her to answer.

I throw the rope down the edge while holding tightly to the other end. In a moment, I feel a gentle tug as Penny takes hold of it.

“Do you have it?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Good job, Penny.” I nod, my body dripping with sweat. “Now tie it.”

“Liam…” I hear the uncertainty and fear in her voice.

“Pen, you can do this, trust me.” It’s quiet for what feels like an eternity that I start to worry. “Penny?”

“Done,” she yells up.

Relief rushes through me. “Good. Now take one foot off the supporting branch—just one foot. Then, test your weight on the rope. Let’s see if it’ll hold you.”

Moments later, the tug on the other end becomes stronger. I plant my feet solidly on the ground, using the tree for additional support, and hold on with all my strength. “Does it support you?”

“So far, so good,” Penny responds with a chuckle. Trust her to make light of a dire situation like this. There’s the Penny I know and love.

“Okay, get ready to let go of the branch completely, but keep your other foot on the ledge.” My heart starts to beat frantically as I tell her what to do.

“Okay.”

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