“Nothing to it,” he said, aware that her mind was drifting. “Fell off a few, too, on film.” He continued to talk as he tested the rope. “Hold tight now, we’re going up. Max! Back. Back.” The rope went taut. With one arm firmly around Laura’s waist, Michael let his feet leave the ground and put himself in the walker’s hands.

Rocks scraped painfully against his back. He used his heels to aid the ascent while sweat ran down his face and the muscles of his arms screamed.

“Almost there,” he told her.

“We didn’t get Seraphina. We have to get her.”

“I’ll go back and get her. Just hold on. Look at me.”

She snapped back into focus, stared into his eyes. “You came back for me.”

“Sure. Hold on.” For an instant his heart stopped. They were inches from the edge, dangling between sky and sea. If any one of them faltered, they would lose. “Reach up. Just one hand now. Reach up, Laura, and grab hold.”

She did as he asked, watched her own hand grip the edge of rock and dirt, slip away, grip again.

“That’s it! Pull.”

Ignoring his tortured muscles, he levered her up, dragging himself behind her as his horse strained to pull them the last foot. Michael bellied up to level ground, then simply lay there, his body sheltering hers, his face buried in her hair.

“Laura. God. Laura.”

His mouth sought hers, and for a moment he sank out of terror and into oblivion.

“We’ll get you home. We’ll get you home now.” He drew back. “Pain?”

“My head. It’s all right.”

“Lie still, let me take care of you.” He released the rope, let it dangle and gathered her into his arms.

“Max?”

“He’ll come. Don’t worry, he’ll come.” He carried her away from the cliffs and up the long slope to Templeton House, with Max following placidly behind.

His legs didn’t begin to shake until Ann burst out of the front door.

“Oh, sweet Lord, I’ve been looking for her everywhere. What happened? My poor lamb.”

“She took a fall.” He continued moving through Ann’s fluttering hands. “She needs to get inside.”

“In the parlor.” Sprinting ahead, Ann called desperately up the stairs. “Mrs. Williamson, Jenny! I’ve found her.” Then, to Michael, “How bad is she? Everyone’s on the way. I called when I couldn’t find her. Lay her down here on the sofa and let me see. Oh, sweetheart, your head.”

“What in the world—” Mrs. Williamson stopped, out of breath, in the doorway.

“She’s had a fall,” Ann snapped out. “We need hot water, bandages.”

“I fell off the cliff,” Laura said as her head settled back into place.

“Oh, my dear God. Where does it hurt? Let me look at you.”