Page 3 of Her Mountain Man Rescuer

She bends it back and forward slightly, letting out a hiss of breath. “Yes, but it hurts.”

Her wrist is swollen, but judging by how much she can move it, I don’t think it’s broken. More likely sprained. You get to know these things when you live out in the wilderness. I’ve broken more damn bones than I can count.

“What about your knees?” I ask.

“I can still walk, so I don’t think they’re hurt too bad.” She bends each leg and straightens it again, her brow furrowed. “Not broken. I think they just ache because I fell on them so hard.”

Relief slows my pounding heart as I examine her. A sprained wrist and some cuts and bruises are a small price to pay for such a big fall.

“How long you been down here?” I ask.

She reaches into the pocket of her jeans and pulls out a cracked phone to check the time.

“Just over two hours. Feels like longer.”

In the light of her phone and my flashlight, I can see her outfit more clearly. Jeans and a white blouse, torn up from her fall. Fuck, the way she fills out her clothes is sexy as hell…

But that’s not the damn point.

She has no water bottle, no bag, no coat or waterproof clothing. The heeled pumps on her feet are made for walking around shopping malls, not forests.

A city girl.

I feel a flicker of annoyance. She’s insanely unprepared to be walking out here in the mountains. Hell, if I hadn’t heard her screams, she could easily have died of hypothermia overnight.

“What were you thinking, walking around out here with no supplies?” I grumble. “You have any idea what might have happened?”

I shouldn’t be giving her a hard time right now, but dammit, my stomach is in knots when I think about how much worse it could have been.

“Well, I wasn’tplanningto walk around out here,” the girl says. “I only got out of the car for a second to take a photo.”

I grit my teeth, running a hand over my face. “You city folk. Always getting yourself into trouble out here trying to take photos for Instachat?—”

“Instagram,” the girl counters, her pretty blue eyes flashing defiantly. “Look, I just fell down a dang cliff, and I’ve been shouting for help for the past two hours, so can you spare me the lecture?”

“I—”

“And anyway,” she cuts me off with a glare, “who says I’m from the city?”

“I do.”

She lets out a huff of disbelief. “I might live ten minutes away from here for all you know.”

“Do you?”

“No, I live in Denver, but that’s not the point?—”

I hold up my hands in surrender, my irritation softening at the adorable frown on her face. “Listen, Miss Denver, I’m not trying to lecture you. It just freaks me out thinking about what would have happened if I hadn’t heard you calling. You gotta take care of yourself out here.”

She sighs. “Iwastaking care of myself. Maybe I didn’t have to get so close to the edge for my photo?—”

“Maybe you didn’t.”

“—but how was I meant to know the ledge would crumble like that?”

I make a noise in my throat. “You’re alive to tell the tale. That’s the main thing. But next time you feel like taking photos, don’t do it on the edge of a cliff.”

She opens her mouth to retort, but seems to think better of it. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that advice.”

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