Reed began his descent. “Rebecca, I’m going to come to you. Stay where you are. Just relax and don’t move.”

Her nod was small.

He could see she was clutching several branches protruding from the mountain. She’d lost her right glove, as well as her scarf, but other than that, her skin was covered, protected from the elements. Thank God. Frostbite set in within minutes in this cold.

His own cheeks—his only flesh exposed to the elements—stung in the wind. They could expect her right hand to need medical attention. His boots slipped against the rocks and several gave way, falling to the base of the mountain.

He moved lower and lower until he reached the ledge. Not trusting it to hold both their weight, he hung next to it. “Hi. I’m Reed. Can you open your eyes for me?” He wanted her to know she was safe, that she could trust him...but he would need her cooperation to get them out of there as quickly as possible.

“No.”

He saw the shape of her lips more than he heard the word.

“Afraid of heights?”

She nodded.

“Okay. Well, I’m straight ahead of you. So just open your eyes and look straight ahead. You’ll see my goofy grin,” he said.

Slowly, her eyes opened and the terror in them made his chest tighten. He ignored the what-if scenarios running through his mind and cleared his thoughts.

Save the kid, get everyone back safe. Simple. Yet, not an easy task. Expect the unexpected.

“You’re doing great,” he told her. “Are you hurt?”

“My hand was hurting but not anymore...”

Frostbite. Hopefully, they weren’t too late.

“And my leg.”

He glanced toward her legs, where her snowshoes still dangled from her feet. The right leg was twisted in a grotesque angle. Numb and in shock right now, she couldn’t feel the severity of the injury, which was good. He hated to think that she’d been out there that long alone, scared and in pain. Keeping his voice calm, he radioed. “We will need the litter. Start lowering it to the left.”

“Is my leg broken?” she asked, daring a glance at it.

“Yes.” He wouldn’t lie. She would need to be prepared for what came next. “But we are going to get it fixed up in no time. We have an ambulance waiting on the trailhead. Just a few more minutes...and your parents are there...”

“No!” She moved away, clinging to the branches. New fear on her face.

“Whoa, hold up. Stay still.” He’d seen this before. Lost children were surprisingly terrified that their parents would be angry. He knew after interviewing hers that nothing could be farther from the truth. The young couple was going crazy—worried about their little girl. Relief would be their only emotion when she was brought back safely. “Your mom and dad are not mad. They are worried and they love you. They can’t wait to hug you.” Reunions after rescues were the only consistent element to this job.