“It’s called the Texas Rope Trick,” he said, tying the longer length to the much smaller circle. “It’s like a giant slipknot. The sling,” he said, holding up the circle, “allows us to secure it to the tree trunk. At the bottom, I pull the middle strand threaded through it, bring the whole thing down, and we start all over again.”
“You’re sure it’s safe?”
It wasn’t a method Sam would recommend except under the most dire circumstances. “Have I ever led you astray?”
“This from the man who made me jump off the back of a speeding boat? And a cliff into the sea?”
“Rappelling is much safer.”
“At least I was landing in water the other two times. That,” she said, nodding down to the bottom of the gorge, “looks a lot harder.”
“I’ll lower you from here. All you need to do is hold on to the rope. Use your feet to walk backward down the cliff. Once we start down the next level, it’ll be much easier.”
She glanced down, noting that the bottom of the gorge seemed much farther than it had just a few moments ago. “Maybe I should go back and brave the wild boar.”
“You already turned down that option.”
“You’re reminding me?”
He looped the makeshift harness beneath her arms, double-checking the knots he’d tied. “Try to think about something else,” he said, sounding very calm about the whole thing.
She was anything but. “Is this the time to mention I had a glamorous life planned out for us?”
He slapped at a mosquito on his arm, then finished securing her into his makeshift harness. “Doing what?”
“After I found that Spanish galleon, I was going to write a book about it.”
He helped her over the cliff’s edge. “A whole book about one Spanish galleon?”
“It’s the thrill of the hunt.”
“Off the coast of California? You were there. It’s not exactly what I’d call thrilling.”
She clung to the rope as he started to lower her. “Regardless, my imagined life didn’t consist of belly crawling through scorpion-infested dirt. Or dangling from a cliff. It was going to be martinis at lunch with my editor, who would send me on a fabulous tour, all while my agent sold the movie rights.”
“Think how much more exciting this will sound.”
She reached out with her foot, but it hit air. The movement sent her spinning. “Sam . . .”
“You’re doing great. Easy peasy.”
“Sam?”
And then she was there. As soon as her feet touched solid ground, she stopped turning. Slowly, she moved toward the tree, making sure she had something to balance against while she slipped out of the harness.
Sam retrieved the rope, wrapped the sling around the base of the tree, threaded the rope through the ends like an S, turning one strand of rope seemingly into three. He grabbed the first and second strands, tested the strength, and backed to the cliff’s edge.
Her heart constricted in her chest as he jumped, free-falling for a second before planting his feet against the cliff, rappelling down. When Sam reached the ledge next to Remi, he pulled. Exactly like a slipknot, the sling and the rope fell to the ledge, kicking up dust as they hit. Sam had a firm grip on the rope as it started to slide past. Stopping it, he looked over at her. “You okay?”
“I’m trying to decide if I was scared to death, or exhilarated beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.”
“You can make up your mind when we get to the bottom.”
* * *
—
Once they were both safely on the ground, Sam led Remi along the base of the cliff. With no idea of who might be working for the Kyrils, and who might simply be there as part of the first harvest, Sam took extra care making sure they kept out of sight of the men and women who were leading the pack mules until they reached the trail leading to the bottom of the hill.