Marooned with the Maverick by Christine Rimmer

Author:Christine Rimmer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“Collin, Buster’s gone!”

Collin hit the brake as Willa’s door flew open. “Willa. Wait...” But she didn’t wait. She was out the door before the truck came to a full stop. “Be careful at the cliff edge!” he shouted.

Not that she heard him. She was already out and running back to that last almost-deadly turn.

He slammed it in Park, turned off the engine, and shoved in the parking brake, grabbing a flashlight from the glove box before he jumped out and ran after her. “Stay back from the edge, damn it, Willa!”

She was already there, craning to see over, calling the dog. “Buster! Buster, here, boy!”

He went to her, grabbed her arm and hauled her back a few feet. She tried to shake him off, but he held on. “Don’t,” he warned. “It could be dangerous.”

“But Buster...” Frantic tears clogged her voice.

He shone the light on the ground at the edge he’d dragged her back from. Hard to tell, but it looked pretty solid. “Careful, okay?” Reluctantly, he let her go. “Just take it easy...slow.”

Together they moved toward the cliff again. He shone the flashlight down into the darkness, spotted the small ledge created by two joined sets of tree roots maybe thirty feet down. Buster was young and agile. All he would have needed was something to break his fall and chances were he would have been okay.

No sign of him on that ledge, though.

“Buster!” Willa called again, more frantic than before. “Buster!”

Not knowing what else to do, Collin put his fingers between his teeth and let out with the whistle that always brought the dogs running. He glanced over at Willa, at the tears already streaming down her soft cheeks.

He was just about to start blaming himself, when he heard the scrabbling sounds over the side, up the road a little, near where he’d stopped the truck.

Willa whipped around toward the noise. “Buster!” Collin turned the light on her, so she wouldn’t trip on the uneven road surface as she took off again in the direction of the sounds.

About then, the white dog scrambled up over the bank, apparently unhurt. He got to the road and shook himself.

“Buster!” Willa dropped to a crouch and threw her arms around him. The dog whined and swiped his sloppy tongue all over her face and wagged his tail as though he’d just done something pretty spectacular.

And maybe he had.

Collin went to them. With another happy cry, Willa jumped up and threw her arms around him. “He’s fine. He’s okay. Oh, thank God.” She buried her face against his neck.

He held her close and tried not to let himself think about how right she always felt in his arms.

* * *

Buster rode the last short stretch inside the cab, sandwiched between Willa’s feet.

Collin didn’t much care for dogs in the front. But he wasn’t complaining. A couple of minutes after they’d piled in the truck again, Collin parked in the flat space not far from the front door to his house.

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