Page 103 of Sweet Like Whiskey

“You’re a good man, Ashley Alcott. Hold on, all right?”

“Not going anywhere,” he says. And then he’s laughing again.

“Find him?” Colton asks in my ear.

“Yeah. Just up the trail. Are you close? We need rope.”

My brother curses. “On my way.”

I don’t bother with a goodbye before I hang up.

“Hey, is the girl okay?” Ash calls. “Tara. You find her?”

“We did,” I call back, walking the other direction down the trail, looking for some sort of access. I don’t see any, barely even see Ash peeking out below a drop in the ground. “She’s fine. Let’s focus on you now. You said it’s your shoulder?”

“Dislocated, I think. Can’t move my arm. I passed out a bit, but there’s no blood. I couldn’t make it up the hill, Jack.”

“I know,” I say, my voice cracking. “You’ll be out soon.”

“Thanks for coming. Shorty wouldn’t leave. Kinda figured I was fucked.”

“The horses are trained to stay with their riders,” I tell him. “He did good.”

Ash makes a sound just as Colton rides up. My brother dismounts as quickly as I did, dropping to one knee and swinging his backpack to the ground. “He okay?” he asks, pulling out rope from his emergency kit.

“Think so,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Hurt, though.”

My brother looks up at me, his headlamp blinding me for a second. “One harness or two?”

“Two,” I tell him. If Ash’s shoulder is out of commission, it’ll only hurt him worse to pull him up solo.

Colton nods, setting to work on tying the knots needed for Ash’s rescue. Once done, I step into the makeshift harness as Colton secures the end of the rope to the horses. “Ready?” he asks.

I give a swift nod, go down to my butt, and start sliding down the hill. Colton keeps my progress steady, and I use my hands for balance. Relief slams into me when Ash comes into full view. He squints up at me, his face and hair covered in grime.

“Hey, sunshine,” I say, voice wobbling.

He smiles. “Jack.”

Fuck.

It’s clear he fought hard. Dirt covers nearly every inch of his body. Exhaustion is evident in his eyes. As he said, I can’t see any blood, but that doesn’t mean he’s not seriously injured, either.

There’s about a five foot drop from where I am to Ash’s position at the bottom of a pit, so I swing around to my stomach and ease my legs over the side. For a moment, I hang in the air, the harness keeping me suspended. Then the rope starts moving again, and Colton lowers me to the ground.

The second my feet hit dirt, I’m crouching in front of Ash, my hands settling on his cheeks. They shake despite my best efforts to keep them still. He looks so damn worn out. And in pain.

I kiss his forehead, and Ash’s good arm comes up around my shoulder, holding tight. “Fuck, baby,” I breathe, pressing another kiss to his head. “How bad?”

Ash is quiet for a beat. “Eight? Nine?”

I nod, my lips quivering. “All right. Think you can stand?”

“If you help me.”

I ease back, careful to avoid Ash’s injured arm as I help him to his feet. It’s a struggle, his body not wanting to cooperate, the wince on his face evidence of what sort of hurt the movement is causing. But he never complains. Not once.

As soon as he’s standing, I ease the harness up his legs, Ash helping by lifting his feet one at a time. Once it’s in place, I walk Ash toward the lip of the hill, my arm around him tight. “Ready?”

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