Chapter 1
Part 2 - He Refused His Bride Until She Risked Everything to Save Him
“Henrietta, the rope!”
Calvin’s shout vanished beneath the crack of breaking ice.
The ledge dropped under Henrietta’s knees with the sickening softness of a floor giving way. Snow, crusted hard by wind and hollow beneath, folded toward the ravine in a widening sheet. Her stomach lurched as she slid with it, one hand locked around Calvin’s wrist while the other clawed blindly for purchase. The white slope gave her nothing. Beneath Calvin’s dangling boots, gray rock fell away into a storm-filled emptiness she could not measure.
“Let me go!” he shouted.
“No!”
Her answer tore out of her before fear could give it thought. The rope knotted around her waist snapped tight as her weight shifted downhill, biting through Calvin’s coat and trousers where she had wrapped it around herself. For an instant she believed it had caught on something behind her. Then the rope jerked loose and she slid another foot, snow pouring around her hips.
Calvin looked up through wind-driven ice, his face white with cold and fury. “You stubborn woman, there’s nothing holding you!”
Henrietta’s shoulder burned where his weight dragged at it. “Then I shall find something!”
“Before or after we both die?”
“Preferably before.”
Another portion of the shelf cracked.
Henrietta flattened herself against the slope. The movement drove a spear of pain through both knees, the familiar grinding ache in her joints sharpened by cold until it felt as if broken glass had been packed beneath her skin. She tasted blood where she had bitten the inside of her cheek. Her fingers were already numb despite the gloves.
Calvin’s body swung below her, striking the wall of the ravine. He grunted, and the hand in hers almost slipped.
Henrietta clamped harder.
“Don’t,” he said.
“I am not listening to you.”
“For once in your life, woman, listen to me.”
“For once in yours, make yourself useful and stop writhing.”
His mouth opened in outrage, which under other circumstances might almost have amused her. Then his injured leg shifted against the rocks and all color drained from his face. His head fell back against the slope.
That frightened her more than his shouting.
“Calvin.”
His eyes squeezed shut.
“Calvin, look at me.”
“I am looking.”
“You are staring at the sky.”
“It’s directly above you.”
“You see? Arguing. Good. Continue.”
His eyes opened again, narrow and gray beneath the brim of snow crusting his hat. “You’ve lost your mind.”