“I can’t be sure.”
Her reply was a thread of sound. He saw in her face that she didn’t expect to survive.
If sheer determination alone could get her out of this, by God and all His angels, he’d get her out of it. He studied the uneven rocks between the coat and her. “Wait.”
He surged to his feet and ran back to Tannasg.
“Steady, boy,” he whispered.
The thoroughbred sensed his desperation and sidled nervously under his hands as he removed the saddle. With deftness born of necessity, Kylemore dismantled the saddle and swiftly buckled the straps together.
The task still took too long. With every second’s delay, the possibility of her tumbling to her death increased.
“Verity?” he called.
Was she still there?
“Yes. Hurry!” He could tell she was near the end of her endurance. Few would have contained their panic so long.
With a yank, he tested the makeshift length. He desperately hoped it would reach her. And that his improvised rope held. And that she’d have the strength to grasp it when he threw it.
Desperate hope was all he had. How would he survive if he didn’t bring her safely through this?
He couldn’t dwell on failure. He would rescue her.
Breathing hoarsely, he dashed back to the edge and collapsed to his knees. God be praised, she was still there.
But she was tiring. Her hands, in their filthy ragged bandages, had clenched into claws, and even at that distance, he heard her rapid and uneven breathing.
Verity looked up when he appeared above her and managed a shaky smile. Not for the first time, her courage humbled him.
“Did you have a sudden inspiration?” She still strove to sound composed, but the words emerged on a gasp.
“I hope so,” he said fervently. “Hell, I hope so.”
Fumbling with the weight and length, he swung the awkward combination of leathers down. It landed just above her.
The slap of leather on the rough surface created another rockfall. Kylemore’s belly knotted in dread as he realized the hillside was about to subside.
“Reach for it, Verity,” he begged. Then an entreaty that came from the depths of his being. “Reach, my love.”
Live, my love.
Her silver eyes, glittering with fear and despair, widened at the unprecedented endearment. Then he saw her realize that to grab the straps, she had to let go of the hollow in the rock face that supported her.
“Come on, Verity. You’ll be all right.” He hoped to the bottom of his worthless soul that he was right. Asking her to chance her safety was the greatest risk he’d ever taken in his misbegotten life. “It isn’t far.”
Her beautiful face, streaked with dirt and tearstains, turned up toward him, and he saw her swallow. Her expression was rigid with fear. “I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can.” He injected certainty into his voice. “Don’t fail me now. You’ve never given up before.” He tried to tell her with his eyes how he believed in her.
She bit her lip and nodded. He held his breath as she let go and stretched upward. The shift in weight sent rivers of stones slithering past her.
“Only a little further,” he urged. His knuckles whitened on the leathers as he prepared to take her weight.
She grunted with effort and pushed herself up. With a sharp cry he felt to his boots, she lurched up and snatched the line.
Not a moment too soon. The cliff around her collapsed in a deafening roar.