Page 129 of Swept for Forever
“Yeah, you?”
“Good.”
“Be careful, okay?” she said. “I wish I had something less basic to say. But…yeah.”
“I will.” My throat tightened. “I love you.”
Then came a beat of silence on the line.
“Dom, you’re talking like something’s going to happen.”
“Not like that,” I said quickly. “I just…I wanted to say it. I mean it. I love you.”
The words felt heavier out loud than they had in my head. I should’ve said it earlier. Back at The Lazy Moose, when she was standing on the porch with her hair pulled back and her arms wrapped around herself like she didn’t trust the day to go right without me. I could’ve said it while I had her close. But I hadn’t.
Still, I promised myself this wasn’t a missed chance.
Nothing was going to happen.
I’d come back to her. I’d walk straight up those porch steps, take her face in my hands, and say it again. Say it better. Say it with a hundred kisses until she rolled her eyes and muttered something about me being hopeless.
“I love you too,” she said, as if waiting for my thoughts to finish.
The line cut out a second later, but I didn’t need to hear more.
“This is where I found her,” I told Noah once we reached the ridge. TheBuffaloberry Riversign was still pointing in the right direction, just as I’d left it. “The dog led me in. She fell there.” I pointed to the slope where she’d clung on, the memory still too vivid. “Her pack went over that edge. It caught on a tree just below.”
Noah nodded. “Let’s just hope a dozen more trees haven’t buried it.”
He had a point. “Only one way to find out.”
“Let’s go then,” Noah said. He was all business now, his eyes already scanning for anchors.
“Let’s fix the rope.” I adjusted my harness.
He nodded. “That boulder looks solid.”
“Good plan, my friend.”
We worked quickly but carefully. The old boulder had a natural groove, perfect for a cam and a backup sling. I double-checked every knot, and Noah watched me without comment. He trusted me, and he knew I was meticulous.
“Done,” I said.
He gave a short nod and clipped into the rope first, descending smoothly to the ledge before signaling up.
Then it was my turn.
I passed the spot where I’d found her. The base of that tree was still there, its roots clutching the hillside. I could picture her again, scraped up, bleeding, and fighting to stay conscious. Hanging on with everything she had.
We kept moving.
I leaned back over the edge, my feet set hard against the rockface, the rope biting into my gloves. The slope wasn’t vertical, but it was brutal, with jagged ridges, loose earth, and boulders pretending to be footholds. Noah descended above me, his silence broken only by the occasional grunt.
“Watch that ledge,” I called up.
“I see it.”
“You didn’t see the last one,” I pointed out.
