Page 105 of Some Like It Scot
But where was I?
I sat up on my sore derriere and gasped. Nothing but sea and sky and distant cliffs met my view. I looked up the way I’d fallen. A six-foot drop—or more—left me on this tiny ledge on the side of a cliff in the rain.
Which had increased from a mist to a solid pelting.
Squinting up at the offending rain, I stretched out my back and tried to sort out what in the world I was going to do. Ah, was that thunder?
Perfect.
I think this moment easily topped the Peruvian sheep one. Especially with my lack of options for escape.
Highland cows were my new nemesis.
I lowered my face into my hands for just a moment, thankful for my hat giving a little buffer from the rain, and... laughed. Laughed at the ridiculousness. Laughed that God saved me “by a ledge.” Laughed that, after all my worries about falling in love, I never contemplated actually falling off a cliff.
Again.
Maybe God was trying to prove a point, that instead of relying on my own directional abilities, I should pay attention to His course. Wasn’t there a verse about that somewhere?
I steadied myself against the cliff wall and stood, holding in a wince when I pressed weight on my ankle. Not bad, but not good either. Especially if I hoped to climb up the side of the ledge toward freedom.
Just in case someone had walked near enough to hear me over the rain, I called out a few times for help and then reexamined my game plan. I’d learned years ago not to panic. Panicking only muddled up my thinking. And worst-case scenario, I’d sit on the ledge of this cliff for a few hours in the rain before someone came looking for me.
I’d left my whereabouts with Emily, so at least someone knew mygenerallocation.
And if I didn’t show up for my date with Graeme tomorrow, surely he’d search for me. Right? I mean, he wouldn’t think I ran away again, would he?
My stomach twisted. Because I really wanted that date.
And running away didn’t look as appealing as it usually did.
Thoughts of the date spurred me back into my plan of climbing up the ledge, so I studied my options. A few of the rocks may prove to function as little stepping stones to assist me in gaining height, right?
And I’d climbed worse.
My attention dropped to my clothes. Except, I hadn’t been wearing a pretty gown on my last climbing excursions, and the idea ofskimming down to my drawers and corset for all the world to see felt a little scandalous by anyone’s standards.
I glanced around. Okay, so my viewing audience was severely limited to fowl.
Though the dress was smudged with dirt from my chest downward, it didn’t show one tear. My followers would be happy to learn that bit of information. Very sturdy, indeed.
I stood up on a rock, keeping my hand against the cliff, and tried to raise up on my elbow by hooking my boot on a slippery stone, only to get my knee caught in the folds of my skirt while trying to raise it. I slipped back down to the ledge to land on my backside... again.
Ugh. My bum did not approve. At all. In fact, it strongly protested.
I looked down at my skirt and sighed. Scandalous, here we come!
Tugging off the cute thin jacket covering my blouse, I folded it and gently placed it on a little tuft of grass nearby. Then I unfastened the skirt and placed it on top of the jacket. Thankfully, the mock blouse covered my top down to my hips, so instead of standing on a cliff in my corset, camisole, and knickers, I at least added a thin white blouse to the ensemble.
Plus my hat.
I probably looked ravishing. Especially with the garters holding up my stockings.
Just as I stepped back up on the rock, a head popped over the top of the ledge. A fluffy, familiar head, with tongue on full display and two-toned eyes staring down at me.
“Wedge?” Relief swept through me. “Did you come to my rescue, boy?”
If I couldn’t have a knight on a white horse, I’d take a cuddly sheepdog.
