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Allie yelped and jerked forward, yanking her legs up, trying to move them far away from the whirring sound. Her panicky movement alarmed the cat who twisted from her arm, staring up with indignant eyes, oat grains sticking to his whiskers. There was no time to soothe him.
She scanned the walls, searching for a handhold, anything she could grab to keep from being sucked under. But the galvanized steel was hard and smooth, designed for the efficient movement of grain. Already a whirling vortex marked the spot where grain spiraled downward, a whirlpool that would suck her and the cat down with it.
She had to get further away, closer to the wall. And quickly. She lunged forward, spreading herself on top of the grain, flopping inch by inch, pausing only to scoop up the cat. He didn’t hiss, just dug in his claws, clinging to her arm like it was a tree limb. His claws hurt, but it left both her arms free to flail through the grain. And finally her face was pressed against the hard wall.
She peered over her shoulder, checking the spinning movement. It wasn’t following but funneling from the other side, eating ravenously at the mound of grain. A steep slope had already formed around its center.
Her relief was so great it almost choked her. It was only by chance she’d moved in this direction. If she’d gone to the other side, it would be sucking her down now—and she’d have been unable to move, unable to pull away, and soon unable to breathe.
Was the auger on the far side?
She tried to picture the bottom of the grain bin, but she’d only been there once, on her second day when Sharon had given her a full tour. There was a shed-like entrance at the base. Sharon had pulled open the door and gestured at a shiny electric motor saying the equipment had the capacity to move grain much faster than the old motor, and that the wranglers were greatly pleased.
Allie couldn’t remember if the auger had an automatic shutoff. Maybe if it was blocked by something big it would turn off. Her body should be big enough. Of course, that wouldn’t help much. A mountain of grain over one’s head generally resulted in quick suffocation. But no doubt it felt painfully slow to the person experiencing it.
“Help!” she hollered, raising her head and yelling through her spit-dry throat, yelling over and over again, knowing her voice wouldn’t carry far enough but frantically yelling anyway. The wranglers sometimes schooled their young horses near this secluded section. Of course, that was in the evening, when they were finished helping the guests. Could she stay above the grain that long? Maybe—if she were lucky and remained calm.
She fought the urge to curl up in a ball and make herself small. But it was better to be big, to help the shifting grain support her. So she stretched out her arms and legs and lay on her stomach, taking slow sips of stale air, determined to control her panic. Even the cat had stilled, sitting on her back like a statue, as if similarly fearful of that moving whirlpool.
On the positive side, it was sucking from the other direction. The grain was already much lower there. It felt as if they were lying on a cliff, looking down at the shifting ground, but that beneath them it was solid and capable of holding them up.
But then the whirling tornado shifted. Or was that her imagination?
No, the vortex was moving, slowly at first then faster, sucking up the grain in its path like a rapacious monster. Her heartbeat thrashed in her ears. The cat’s claws dug into her back, then her scalp. And just like that, their foundation crumbled.
Seconds later she was flailing and falling, sliding toward the center as if carried by a powerful avalanche.
*
Carter ignored the eight eager faces staring at him from within the fenced arena. He knew he should learn everyone’s name, but they all looked much the same. It was remarkable how Allie remembered every guest, not just their names but hometowns and favorite songs, along with their pet guinea pig’s favorite food. She had an amazing memory, no doubt because she really cared.
When he’d first met her, he assumed everything about her was fake. Her clothes, her interest, even her smile—because beautiful people didn’t have to be that nice. Like a rhinestone cowboy they only had to glitter in order to dazzle. So even though she was tempting, he’d resolved to avoid her. He certainly hadn’t planned to lead her league of admirers, hadn’t expected to discover that she was the most courageous, kindest, gutsiest person he’d ever met. And that he was the one who was totally unworthy.
A teenager in form-fitting jeans hurried toward him, rather surprising because generally his reserve kept guests at arm’s length, at least for the first half hour. Besides, there were ten more minutes before the lesson was scheduled to start. He’d left the calf pen early, fleeing from Allie—from the sight of her tortured face and hands, and the heartbreaking way she’d limped into the calf pen. Conversely, now that she wasn’t in sight, all he could do was think about her.
“The lesson won’t start for another ten minutes,” he said to the approaching guest, his thoughts still wrapped around Allie. Thankfully she wouldn’t have to stand any longer. He’d asked Pete to bring a chair so she could take the weight off her feet. It might hurt her hands to hold the milk bottle though. And image-conscious Janet would no doubt insist on feeding the wildest calf of the bunch.
At least Pete would be there. He’d take good care of Allie, had grinned when he promised to hold her and the calf. Carter hadn’t liked the man’s wolfish smile one bit.
“Are you Carter Bass?” the teen asked.
Carter’s eyes narrowed. Actually, teenager was a stretch. Despite the girl’s clothes and excessive makeup, it was clear she was barely in her teens. Too young to be in this class. Sharon had agreed to split the adults and children into different sessions. Somehow this girl had talked her way into his class. No doubt she was spoiled as hell. He recognized the brand of her hat, an elite one from Australia. Along with her intricately tooled boots, her clothes probably cost more than a half-decent horse.
Actually she reminded him a bit of Allie and how she might have looked at that age. If he’d been Allie’s neighbor, would he have been able to help? Would he have even noticed her home life? Probably not...
He realized he was scowling but the youngster was surprisingly bold. She planted herself in front of him as if anticipating polite conversation. And since he was a permanent ranch employee now, he had to make some effort.
“Yeah,” he said, steering his thoughts back to the class. “I’m Carter Bass. What’s your name?”
“Sage.”
Sage. It suited her. Maybe he’d try to remember it. He had to admire her gumption. Still, she was way too young to take his class. Her long shiny nails showed she didn’t often get her hands dirty, much less throw a rope. Besides, most kids didn’t listen well and he didn’t like to repeat himself. She was already distracted, glancing around and searching for someone.
“This class is for adults only,” he said. “Are you here to watch your parents?”
“No.” Sage peered past him. “I want to learn to rope. You know, like Allie.”
Carter nodded. Naturally the girl knew Allie, knew what she had done. Every guest met her, usually within their first hour of arrival. Unlike him, they were smart enough to realize she was totally genuine.
He intended to keep the conversation short and simply direct Sage to the youth class, but already he could feel his chest warming at the mention of Allie’s name.
“So you know Allie?” he said, glancing in the direction of the calf pen. He’d only been gone for thirty minutes and already he felt conflicted, starved for the sight of her yet overcome by a feeling of worthlessness whenever he saw her limping. No one should have to torture herself like that, especially not the woman he loved.
“Yes.” Sage’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m supposed to be on a trail ride with my brother but I’d rather learn to rope and save people. You know, do cool stuff like her.”
“She is cool,” Carter said.
“Well, where is she?” Sage asked. “I don’t want to waste my time in your class if she’s somewhere else.”
“Of course you don’t.” And he actually chuckled, realizing he’d been far too quick to assume Sage was here because of him. He’d have to tell Allie of the girl’s comments. That would make her happy... If only he could look at her battered face long enough to carry on a conversation.
“So? Is she coming?” Sage swiveled on the heels of her new boots. “I don’t want to miss my chance with her.”
“No,” Carter said. Neither do I. But Allie deserved a much better man than him.
“Do you think she’ll let me stay?” Sage went on. “Maybe I am a little younger than the cutoff on the sign-up form but I already checked, and she’s not at the teen class.”
“She’d let you stay,” he said. No doubt about that. Allie was the kindest and most generous person on the ranch. She’d even forgiven Janet for stealing her food. “But she’s not able to throw a rope for a while,” he added.
Sage gave an expressive eye roll. “I know that. Everyone can see she’s hurt. But she’ll get better. And she can still talk if someone else demonstrates. That’s your job, isn’t it? To help her?”
“Yeah, I suppose.” He gave a little nod, his voice strengthening. “Yeah. That’s right.” Of course he was committed to helping Allie. That was the least he could do, even if it twisted his gut every time he saw her struggling.
“So, where is she?” Sage asked. “Who’s helping her now?”
The girl was staring at him as if he were a shirker. And maybe he was. He should be beside Allie right now, helping her with the milk bottle, making sure a calf didn’t slobber on her cut hands, and acting as a buffer with any nosy guests. He’d taken the easy route and left, avoiding the reality of what she’d done to save his life. He accepted that he didn’t deserve her. But maybe that was her decision to make, not his.
He fingered his lariat then ran his thumb over the hondo, the same nervous motion he’d used in the chute just before the gate swung open, when he needed perfect timing as well as a big dose of luck.
“How about I go find Allie,” he said slowly. “Check if she has time to walk over and do the introduction. She might even talk a bit about how she roped her way across Dead Man’s Gorge... And how she saved my life.”
Sage nodded, her silver earrings swinging with enthusiasm. “I would really like that.”
“So would I, Sage,” he said.
