"An old well. I didn't know it was there." She clutched his jacket, her gaze clinging to his. "Please, you have to help me. I haven't the strength to get her out by myself. I was afraid if I tried, we might both be trapped."
For a second, Zach felt as though his heart stopped pumping. A loud pounding began in his temples. He didn't have to ask who Miranda was. Kate had the look of a mother terrified for her child. A picture flashed through his mind of her little girl's pale face and doelike eyes. An old well. Oh, Jesus.
"Is she conscious?" Zach asked.
Kate's face twisted. She swallowed and made a visible effort to calm down. "I—I don't think so. I called down to her, and she didn't answer."
Zach had to pry her fingers from his jacket. "I'm going to get my horse and a rope. You wait here for me, okay?"
Kate gave a jerky nod and reached to grasp the wagon for support. "Hurry, Mr. McGovern, please, hurry."
* * *
Zach had never been much for praying, but during the seemingly endless horseback ride over to the Blakely place, he sent up a plea to the Almighty with nearly every breath. Even if he had never seen Miranda, the frantic clinging of Kate's arms around his waist and the rigidness of her body pressed to his back would have made him afraid for her child's safety. Only six months ago, this woman had lost her husband in a tragic drowning. It might be more than she could take to lose her daughter.
When they finally reached the well, Miranda didn't reply when Zach called down to her. He took a penny from his pocket and let it fall, turning his ear toward the opening to listen for a splash when it hit bottom.
"It's dry, I think," he said.
Zach wasn't sure whether it was good news or bad. Miranda could drown if there was water, but without it, the fall could have broken her neck. By Kate's expression, he guessed he needn't elaborate. She was as pale as a freshly whitewashed picket fence. He had to admire her pluck. Most mothers would be hysterical by now.
After tying the rope to Dander's saddle and asking Kate to hold his bridle, Zach lowered himself into the dark shaft, acutely conscious of the silence. The dankness of the well closed in, the mustiness so thick he found it hard to breathe.
Though the light from above provided feeble illumination at best, his eyes soon adjusted, and he spotted Miranda's pale gray coat several feet before he reached her. About halfway to the bottom of the shaft, she lay huddled on an outcropping of stone, knees drawn to her chest, head tucked. Even in the dimness, he could see how badly she trembled. She was definitely conscious, so why hadn't she responded when he and Kate called down to her?
With a quick glance, Zach gauged the distance from the surface of the well to the ledge. She hadn't fallen far.
Enough to bruise her, surely, possibly even far enough to break an arm or leg. But her rigid posture didn't indicate that.
Zach groped for a foothold on the dank earthen wall to steady himself and assess the situation. From his vantage point, the ledge looked sturdy enough to bear Miranda's weight, but he wasn't any too sure it would hold his. That meant he'd have to pluck the child off the outcropping with one arm while he somehow held himself suspended from the rope with his other.
Tipping his head back, he yelled. "I see her, Kate! And as near as I can tell, she's all right."
The instant Zach's voice boomed, a buzzing sound started up a few feet below him and slightly off to the left. He froze and peered into the dimness, scarcely hearing Kate's reply. Another buzzing noise began somewhere below his feet. Then it seemed as if the sounds began to come from all directions.
Zach's first instinct was to shinny up the rope as if the devil was on his ass. He had one phobia, and that was of snakes. Even a harmless garter snake could make his blood run cold. To hell with playing hero. But then Miranda squeaked, a tiny, terrified sound, and he snapped back to his senses.
Zach
For a second, Zach felt as though his heart stopped pumping. A loud pounding began in his temples. He didn't have to ask who Miranda was. Kate had the look of a mother terrified for her child. A picture flashed through his mind of her little girl's pale face and doelike eyes. An old well. Oh, Jesus.
"Is she conscious?" Zach asked.
Kate's face twisted. She swallowed and made a visible effort to calm down. "I—I don't think so. I called down to her, and she didn't answer."
Zach had to pry her fingers from his jacket. "I'm going to get my horse and a rope. You wait here for me, okay?"
Kate gave a jerky nod and reached to grasp the wagon for support. "Hurry, Mr. McGovern, please, hurry."
* * *
Zach had never been much for praying, but during the seemingly endless horseback ride over to the Blakely place, he sent up a plea to the Almighty with nearly every breath. Even if he had never seen Miranda, the frantic clinging of Kate's arms around his waist and the rigidness of her body pressed to his back would have made him afraid for her child's safety. Only six months ago, this woman had lost her husband in a tragic drowning. It might be more than she could take to lose her daughter.
When they finally reached the well, Miranda didn't reply when Zach called down to her. He took a penny from his pocket and let it fall, turning his ear toward the opening to listen for a splash when it hit bottom.
"It's dry, I think," he said.
Zach wasn't sure whether it was good news or bad. Miranda could drown if there was water, but without it, the fall could have broken her neck. By Kate's expression, he guessed he needn't elaborate. She was as pale as a freshly whitewashed picket fence. He had to admire her pluck. Most mothers would be hysterical by now.
After tying the rope to Dander's saddle and asking Kate to hold his bridle, Zach lowered himself into the dark shaft, acutely conscious of the silence. The dankness of the well closed in, the mustiness so thick he found it hard to breathe.
Though the light from above provided feeble illumination at best, his eyes soon adjusted, and he spotted Miranda's pale gray coat several feet before he reached her. About halfway to the bottom of the shaft, she lay huddled on an outcropping of stone, knees drawn to her chest, head tucked. Even in the dimness, he could see how badly she trembled. She was definitely conscious, so why hadn't she responded when he and Kate called down to her?
With a quick glance, Zach gauged the distance from the surface of the well to the ledge. She hadn't fallen far.
Enough to bruise her, surely, possibly even far enough to break an arm or leg. But her rigid posture didn't indicate that.
Zach groped for a foothold on the dank earthen wall to steady himself and assess the situation. From his vantage point, the ledge looked sturdy enough to bear Miranda's weight, but he wasn't any too sure it would hold his. That meant he'd have to pluck the child off the outcropping with one arm while he somehow held himself suspended from the rope with his other.
Tipping his head back, he yelled. "I see her, Kate! And as near as I can tell, she's all right."
The instant Zach's voice boomed, a buzzing sound started up a few feet below him and slightly off to the left. He froze and peered into the dimness, scarcely hearing Kate's reply. Another buzzing noise began somewhere below his feet. Then it seemed as if the sounds began to come from all directions.
Zach's first instinct was to shinny up the rope as if the devil was on his ass. He had one phobia, and that was of snakes. Even a harmless garter snake could make his blood run cold. To hell with playing hero. But then Miranda squeaked, a tiny, terrified sound, and he snapped back to his senses.
Zach
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