On the north side of the pile, Harry studied the stakes that kept the lumber stationary. If he removed two, the entire pyramid would collapse and roll down the hill. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the tools or time to implement that course of action before these goons came up with a plan for Sammy’s demise.

Harry eyed the logs, taking note of their individual length, then guesstimated their weight. Casting his eyes over the debris-strewn field, he laid hold of a long, sturdy bough. Lifting the thick branch above him, Harry climbed onto the bottom tree trunk in the pyramid. The bark was slick with rain. Harry slipped and barely caught the branch before it tumbled to the ground.

“What was that?” one of the men asked.

Harry froze. And waited.

“What?” Callie responded, her tone filled with derision.

“I thought I heard something.”

“In this wind?” Callie’s voice was filled with scorn.

The need for speed pressed upon him. Finding a good-sized gap above him, Harry wedged the bough perpendicular to the logs and pressed on it. The log moved perceptibly. Harry exhaled, relief in every inch of his body. His plan would work.

Inhaling sharply, he rammed the bough into the gap as far as it would go and threw his full weight on the lever.

“Now, Sammy!” Harry bellowed.

The logs above him rocked, then rolled in the opposite direction, on the downhill side. Sammy lit out for the rock, his little legs pumping for all he was worth.

“Get the kid!” Callie shrieked. “Don’t let him get away.”

Like a gymnast, Harry swung on the lever, then jumped clear as the logs crashed down on Sammy’s kidnappers.

Chapter 35

Elise stood on a ledge partway down the side of the gorge holding Sammy’s hat. River spray coated her with every gust. She pushed a wet strand of hair out of her eyes, then cupped her hands to her mouth. “Sammy!”

It was no use. She couldn’t hear her own voice in this thunderous din. The falls obliterated all sound. Had Sammy fallen? Or was he down by the river hunting for those blasted pollywogs?

She shoved his hat in her pocket and ran her hands along the granite seam to lower herself to the next rock. If she and Sammy made it out of this alive, she’d strangle the bairn for giving her the slip.

Balancing precariously, she landed on the next boulder.

“Samuel Benson, you had better be alive,” she said through gritted teeth, trying to rein in her rising terror. The wee laddie must be down here.

Please, God, don’t let him fall into the river.

Fear made a hard mistress when she raised her ugly head and took possession of one’s emotions. Right now, Elise would give anything to lash out at Harry Benson for begetting that beastly child.