Pippa's Rescue (11 page)

“David, wait.”

Basil bent away from the rock face, hoping to get a visual above. The distance and shrub surrounding the ledge around the grotto prevented a clear view of Wilson. Pippa’s foot, visible on the cliff edge, slid. If he shouted a warning Wilson would be alerted, and he’d lose his one chance to capture the villain.

He didn’t have a choice. “Pippa!”

A couple of footholds later he made eye contact with his target. Wilson glanced at Pippa struggling to regain her perilous balance on the shale. Basil vaulted onto the ledge beneath the shelf outside the grotto. He met Wilson’s stare.
I’ve got him, Harry, and he will pay for his crimes.
Fear crossed Wilson’s face, confirming his guilt.

He needed to hurry.

Like the coward Basil knew him to be, Wilson ran along a path farther from his tumbling sister and the immediate threat.

****

Her running shoe, precariously lodged on the ledge, slid. Not for the first time Pippa regretted the decision to not look for her hiking boots. Basil’s shout drew her attention. David backpedaled to the path. Slipping further on the rocky surface, she anchored her foot on an exposed root. “David, I’m falling.”

His cell phone rang and his voice grew distant. Too late. Arms flailing, she plummeted. She’d never planned on dying at a young age, much less as a result of her brother’s disregard. Her head spun as thoughts of the things she’d wanted to accomplish rushed through. Change animal cruelty laws. Make the ranch self-sufficient. Maybe a family, a glimpse of a child, with her dark coloring and Basil’s high cheekbones and square jaw entered her mind.

“Pippa. I need you to listen to me.”

“What?” Rock bit into her side. She wasn’t dead. Her arms hung limp at her sides, and her foot hurt like a thousand-pound horse had stepped on it. Fingers dug into her shoulder.

“Look at me,” Basil demanded.

She lifted her head. The action made liquid squirt from somewhere on her face and run along the left side of her neck. Sharp, pungent, coppery blood made her stomach churn. She met his gaze. “Your face is pale.”

“Yeah, well, we need to get you onto the ledge. Lift your arms to me. I can’t let go, so you’ll need to grab hold of my forearms. Can you do that?” Marines never show fear, but she could swear a ripple of raw terror ran across his face.

“Sure. No problem.” But she couldn’t lift her arms. They’d been laden down, and her mind didn’t control them any longer. Had she hit her head and her internal commands weren’t viable any longer?

“Pippa. You need to move, it’s getting difficult to hold you in this position.”

She shook her head, trying to un-fog her mind. He hung over a ledge. Veins in his neck stood out. Cuts crisscrossed his wrists beyond his gloved hands and the arm muscles she admired on many occasions were taut.
Simply lift the arms.

“Come to me, sweetheart.” He smiled, and her world righted again.

She grabbed his forearms and held tight. Without releasing her shirt, he tugged. Her feet ground into the loose pebbles along the side of the hill. She turned her head to look.

“Don’t look down,” he said. She expected a grumble, but trepidation had been in his voice.

Pippa felt around with her uninjured foot until she located a hold. “Make it quick.”

“On the count of three, I’ll pull and you shove. One. Two. Three.”

Her wrists hurt from the pressure as he towed, but she shot off the foothold using the power she had left in her body. Landing on the ledge, she rolled to her back and breathed.

“Are you all right?”

“Think I broke my foot, otherwise I’m fine.” Well, as fine as she could be when her blood brother abandoned her to fall over a cliff.

“Where was Wilson going?”

She flinched. All along that was what he wanted. Her brother. Pippa sat upright. Her foot ached.
Fight through the pain
. She rolled to her side and stood, hopping on one foot until she gained balance.

Basil rushed to help her. “Let me look.”

She shook off his hand. “Don’t. You’ve done enough. He wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t for you. Now I’ve lost it all.”

“What are you talking about?” He guided her to a boulder and shoved her. She sat, trying to find a smooth spot. Removing his backpack, he took out the medic-kit.

“The ranch.” She sucked back a sob. She would not allow him to see her weak. A survivor, she’d make it past the faux romance.

His fingers unlaced the shoe. The pain intensified. Her foot had swollen twice the size. “It’s probably broken.”

“More than likely. There isn’t blood on your sock, so the bone didn’t break through. Remove it anyway so we can evaluate. I’ll find some sticks to make a splint.” He took off toward the trees.

She carefully rolled the sock down. Her toes were already becoming as black as the top of her foot. A small bump had formed.

Branches clicked together. “Looks like a break between the third and fourth metatarsal.”

“How would you know?” Guys thought they knew something about everything.

The idiot winked. “Seen many an injury in the corp.” He laid a piece of bark and two medium sized sticks on the ground. Sap oozed from the ends. “Put the sock back into place.”

He sliced the edges of the bark and held the pliable shaving under her foot sizing it perfectly. “We shouldn’t put your shoe back on because your foot will continue to swell. Too bad I don’t have an ice pack, but at least I can immobilize your foot, using the sticks.”

That was going to hurt like nothing she’d experienced in the past; however, her brother’s betrayal hurt more, so what was a little physical pain? “Fine.”

Basil stopped rifling around in his bag and glanced at her. “It’s going to hurt. Want me to remove my belt for you to bite on?”

“No.” Her jaw ached already from clenching her teeth during the confrontation. She’d enjoy the pain, which would become her memory of David.

“Tell me about the ranch and your brother’s involvement?” He removed gauze from the kit, then stuffed the little bag back into the pack.

“The law has suspended all of his accounts, trying to flush him into the open. Litigation cases are lined up, waiting.” She sucked in air as he wrapped the sticks against her ankles.

“Sorry, I don’t think the wood’s going to work. The shoe is too heavy to tie onto the bottom.” He rapped his hands on his thighs.

“Use your belt to tie the support the bottom.” Sweat poured from her forehead. He needed to hurry or she’d pass out again.

“We’ll try. The buckle might be too heavy. So how does the suspension of accounts affect you?” Belt removed, he wrapped the gauze around the wounded foot.

Was he digging for a method to follow her brother? Searching for a weakness not revealed to others, before him, also wanting to destroy David? Why did she care? “My father’s decree made David executor of the estate, the ranch is in his name. I’ve gone through most of my personal funds.”

She hissed out air in an attempt to relieve the pain as he wrapped the soft leather on her ankle, securing it in place. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate, creating her next step. “Kyle has held off on freezing David’s assets related to the property, but I’ve only two days left. If I don’t have the ranch signed over to me or pay off the mortgage, it goes into a holding pattern. He called it a judgment creditor, I think. More than likely the lawsuits will be won and the ranch will be sold to refund the victims.” She braced her head with her hands. “I’ll lose everything.”

Chapter 12

Hours later, Basil had Pippa settled into a cabin near the state park. She’d fallen instantly asleep. He could not sleep, while the cliff hanger looped through his mind. She could have died. He glanced over to see she’d created a trench in the center of the bed and in the process worked her leg supports free. The feather mattress sank under his weight as he crawled onto the bed.

He shifted the covers, stirring the hotel-laundry scent as the top sheet fluttered to the side. A deeper inhale brought a lavender-and-vanilla scent. Maybe the white cotton contained the floral aroma. He repositioned the pillows to elevate her knee and calf. Cryotherapy had reduced the swelling, but her toes resembled sausages. As he predicted, a metatarsal bone was fractured and another sprained, so the orthopedic doctor placed her in a plastic cast. With crutches she could almost live life normally.

Normal. What was normal for her? She had so many responsibilities. People and animals depended on her daily. He swept his fingers over her beautiful face, moving black silky strands of hair behind an ear. He’d take care of her, as she did others. Love wasn’t new to him. He’d loved many women, but Pippa was different. For the first time he wanted to stay with her indefinitely, truly acting on the word which at one time had been so easy to say.

Due to the drugs they’d given her in the emergency room she would have slept through a trip to the ranch, but he wanted to stay in the area. The only rental available was a cabin near the state park. He’d sleep anywhere, but for a moment he wished the quarters were an elegant retreat instead of backwoods rustic. Pippa needed something good, a peaceful place to rest and get away from the fact her brother left her falling from a ledge instead of saving her.

He glanced at her face, fully relaxed although a little pale. How could two siblings be so different? Perfection in one, evil in the other. Pillows rearranged, he carefully moved off the mattress and stretched. Orange, blue, and yellow flames rose in the brick fireplace and the snap, crackle, and popping added to the gentle breathing coming from his love. Harry was probably rolling over in his grave laughing at this predicament. Basil Vanguard, womanizer of the century, had fallen in love. He’d contacted his accountant and within hours Phillipa Wilson would be the sole owner of Horse Rescue Ranch.

“That answers one of my questions.” Skogul sank into the leather sofa facing the cabin door, sandwiched between the edge of the chair and the fireplace. Scents of lavender and herbs became stronger with each of her movements.

Basil sighed, took a few steps, and dropped beside her. “I was hoping I’d seen the last of you. If only I could make that happen.”

Skogul frowned. “What are the walls made from? And what the frak is that gooey crap coming from between them?” She crossed her legs and swung a booted foot to and fro.

“Logs. The mortar holds them together.” He grabbed a brochure, from the split-log coffee table, and handed it to her. “It’s all in here.”

She lifted an eyebrow, barely visible since her blonde hair blended with her creamy skin. He dropped the pamphlet to the shiny wood surface. “Why are you here? Is this my own personal hell for not lighting a candle each Sunday?”

“You’re talking in riddles. I’m here to offer you eternal life.” She placed her feet on the floor and leaned forward. Silver threads had been woven in her blouse and the light from the fireplace bounced off the filaments, creating bits of charged energy in the air.

“Trade my soul for what? What is the cost of this eternal life—I assume in hell?”

“Your soul will stay with you.” She grinned and flipped the waist-length braid over her shoulder. “I’m not sure who would want your blackened humanity next anyway.”

He rubbed his face. Having taken a shower and shaved about an hour ago, the skin was smooth to touch. He wished the hairs were prickly and could snap him into alert status. Maybe he had cracked his skull in the stall, instead of a little bump. “Ha, you Celts, you’re all the same.”

“Celtics are dreamers. I’m Norse, a Valkyrie, and we’re all action.” Her tone of voice was deadpan. Almost as if she believed what she said.

“What exactly is a Valkyrie?” He rested his palms on his knees. Was this his final hour? It could be, if he’d lost all chance of squeezing Harry’s location from Wilson. At least Pippa was set once she found out she owned the ranch. She’d need to find a way to make it self-supporting; however, he didn’t doubt her ability to keep the place afloat.

“I am the squad leader of a group of eleven Valkyrie women. We sometimes appear as lovers to heroes and other mortals.” She winked. He didn’t think the eye flutter very seductive, if that was her intention. However, the mention of lover drew his attention to Pippa who, unaware of the conversation, slumbered nearby.

“Don’t worry, she won’t hear us. Each Valkyrie has a winged messenger, a raven, in addition to a horse which carries us into battle.” Her bizarre comment captured his scrutiny. She shoved her sleeves above her elbows.

Was she put out because he didn’t want to focus on her?

“Explains why the bird flew into the stable and you immediately disappeared.”

Her snarl made him question his quick assumption. He glanced at her arms, radiating like diamonds under a jewelry loupe. If he touched her, would he feel warm flesh and blood or the cold hard shell of a supernatural? Her grunt made him smile.

“Called to the carpet, were you?” He laughed, hoping she had been reprimanded. Too often he’d looked like an idiot talking to thin air. She declared only he could see her, yet Aidan Hall saw and heard her.

“I had to return home for a consultation.” She crossed her arms, taking away the one bit of skin he wanted to touch. Cold, or hell-hot?

She winced and shook her head. “Rrrrruurgh! Arrggg!”

The Valkyrie was crazy, then again one of the television stations had a Star Wars marathon two nights ago. “I’m not up on my Wookie speak.”

“Ha. You were watching the movies.” She chuckled. “I thought so.”

“What do you really want?”

“Valkyries select fallen soldiers during battle, only the most skilled warriors, and offer them life everlasting as an Einherjar. And only those chosen warriors are allowed to see us on the battlefield. We take the new recruits, Einherjars, to Odin’s afterlife hall of the slain called Valhalla. They prepare for events like Ragnarok.” She flicked her fingers at him. “A major battle.”

He was a Marine, but he wasn’t on a battlefield. He didn’t fit the profile. “You want me to become one of those ein-people?”

“No, you wouldn’t be an Einherjar.” She pulled her braid to the front and played with the end. “Granted more powers, you’d be in Special Ops, like your friends.”