If she failed, a painful tumble was in her very near future.

“I’ll do my best.”

She could feel the girl bracing beneath her as Kayla grasped the back of her legs.

With slow, careful, deliberate movements, Cate raised her hands. Placed them flat against the cistern cover, elbows bent. It was closer than she’d expected, giving her more leverage than she’d dared hope for.

Yes!

“I can reach the cover. Hold steady. I’m going to try and shove it off.”

She pushed.

Nothing.

Tried again.

Nada.

What was it made of, lead?

“Is it . . . moving?” Kayla’s question was choppy, and she was beginning to waver again.

“Not yet.”

“I don’t . . . I’m not sure I can hold you much longer.”

“I’m about done.”

She pushed as hard as she could—and while it didn’t come off, the cap did slide several inches to the right.

A few snowflakes swirled into the opening—along with cold, fresh air.

But her hard shove threw them both off-balance. Kayla wavered, and Cate lost her balance.

She groped for something—anything—to latch on to in the narrow opening that extended above the ground.

Her fingers found a couple of deep crevices . . . chipped bricks perhaps, and she dug in.

It provided sufficient stability for both of them to regain their balance—even if it did destroy her fancy glitter-polish manicure.

“You have to come down, Cate.” There was a note of desperation in Kayla’s voice.

“I am. Give me your hands.” With one last, longing look at the opening, she latched on to Kayla’s outstretched fingers, bent her knees, and jumped to the floor.

The girl was shaking, and she sank down to the bricks. “If we get out of this mess, I’m adding a workout to my schedule. My legs are like rubber.”

“I’m shaky too.” Cate dropped down beside her and pointed up. “But we made progress.”

Kayla followed the direction of her finger. “You got the top halfway off!”

“Not quite—but close. It weighs a ton.”

“If we try this again, could you get it off and pull yourself out?”

“No. Not without another few inches of height. I have to be high enough to get my elbows out of the opening and support myself under my arms. I don’t have the strength to pull myself straight up. In fact, even if I get my elbows out, I may need a boost. But after I’ve locked in my elbows, you can hold the rolled-up sleeping bag under my feet and I’ll use that to push off. That should do it.”

It had to.

Or they could be stuck here until the spring thaw.

“That’s assuming we can build a platform.” Kayla gave the bricks a dubious once-over. “Or two small platforms, one for each foot—but they won’t be very steady.”

Cate couldn’t dispute that.