Book of Days_ A Novel - James L. Rubart [75]
"Perfect. All we need now is some rain. Is this in Your book, God? Then stop writing!"
"Cameron." It was more a moan than his name, but it was a streak of hope.
"Ann, you have to secure. Now!"
Silence.
God, if You exist . . .
He focused on his knuckles, shifting his gaze rapidly back and forth between his two hands. His left hand started shaking first. A moment later his right hand joined in. It wouldn't be long.
His left fingers slipped down a quarter-inch.
No!
Drilling in on the second hand on his watch, Cameron promised himself he would hold on another forty-five seconds.
Fifteen seconds later he heard the faint scrape of metal on rock, and he knew Ann was securing a nut into the wall below him. Silence. Then the sound of another nut being wedged into place.
He didn't blame her for securing two; he would have done the same thing. He heard the click of the carabineer as she clipped in, then suddenly the weight on the rope eased and Cameron sucked in a quick breath of air. "Ann!"
"I'm secure. Are you all right?"
He nodded and then realized she couldn't see him. "Stay there. I'm coming down."
After securing an anchor into the rock and clipping his rope into it, he belayed down the thirty feet to where Ann hung, her face white except for where a large bruise had started to form on her right temple.
He reached out and touched Ann's temple with the tips of two fingers. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, really," she said in between breaths. "I'm sure it looks worse than it feels." She stared at him. "You saved my life."
"And you returned the favor by waking up. I figured I had about five seconds left when you secured that first nut."
Cameron stared into her eyes, both of them still breathing heavily.
He'd heard you could know a person more intimately after looking into their eyes for thirty seconds without speaking than you could in an hour of conversation. After the half minute was up, he agreed.
"Let's get off this rock."
They sat at the base of the cliff in silence, the only sound was Ann's deep breaths in concert with his own.
The adrenaline had stopped pumping fifteen minutes ago, but perspiration still seeped through his shirt. His legs twitched and his arms felt like they'd been shot up with a triple dose of Novocain.
"Do you want to talk?"
Ann shook her head, her eyes moist.
Without thinking Cameron scooted next to her, put his arms around her shoulders, and drew her in. Ann pressed in hard against his chest without hesitation and sobbed.
"It's okay . . . it's okay." Cameron stroked her hair and repeated the phrase over and over. He didn't know what else to say. After a few minutes her tears stopped but she didn't move. He pulled her in closer and kissed the top of her head.
The chattering of a squirrel filled the late morning air.
Something about the sound brought peace, and Cameron took his first breath that didn't feel like a gasp for air. After a few more minutes he glanced at his watch. They'd been off the mountain for over an hour. Why did it feel like minutes?
"Ann, talk to me."
She stirred and mumbled something.
"What?"
"Don't leave me."
"I'm right here." He squeezed her tight as her tears came again. "Right here."
Twenty minutes went by without any movement from Ann. She could have been asleep. Cameron wouldn't have cared if twenty years went by. Something about sitting here, holding Ann was very right. Very good. Very true.
Did she think the same?
After another five minutes she stirred, stood, and walked a short distance away. Her auburn hair rose and fell on the breeze slaloming through the trees, and her climbing clothes accentuated her figure. If her hair were darker and she were a little shorter, it could be Jessie standing there.
When Ann finally turned back, her tears were dry and she gave a slight smile. "Thank you."
Her simple thanks filled him. Anytime. I'm here.
Cameron fired up his MINI Cooper and turned to Ann. "Was that written in God's book? Before it happened, was it written down?"
"Yes."
"So God gives us no choice. What is, is."
"Choice is