When the pain lessened from agony to merely severe, she tried to pull up the leg of her sweatpants and long Johns so she could see her knee, but the long johns were too tight. She tried to get to her feet, and the knee gave out in the middle of the first effort. Oh, shit. She had to be able to walk. The joint had to support her, because she had another rappel to make, longer than the first.

She grabbed one of her walking sticks and jammed it into the ground, using it as leverage to swing her body around so she was closer to a skinny tree. Seizing one of the lower branches, she pulled herself to a standing position and swayed there for a minute; holding on to the limb for dear life, she gradually eased her weight onto her knee. It hurt, but not as badly as she’d feared.

The only way to inspect the knee was to pull her pants down, so she did. The skin was broken, and a huge knot was beginning to swell and darken just below her kneecap. At least it wasn’t the kneecap itself.

An ice pack that she could strap on would be nice right about now. She turned and looked up at the snow, and shook her head. Not even for the joy of packing snow on her knee could she climb back up that slope.

Holding the tree for balance, she took a tentative step. Again, it hurt, but the joint held and felt stable. The injury was nothing more than a severe bruise, then, no torn ligaments. When she could put all her weight on the leg and walk normally, she continued down the slope, swearing every step of the way because going downhill was hard on the knees anyway.

The last rappel, the longest one, was a nightmare. She had to stay squared off on her legs or she would fall sideways into the rock. Her right knee didn’t want anything squaring off on it, didn’t want to absorb any impact. It was so swollen now that she could barely flex it. When she was finally on the bottom, she was bathed in sweat.

The air in the valley was cool, but pleasantly so. She looked up at the towering mountains around her, at the white caps they now wore, the dusting reaching halfway down the rugged slopes. That was where she’d been, all the way up there.

Cal was still up there, but he would be farther to the west, toward the cut. She sent a brief but fervent prayer for safekeeping winging his way, then turned and began the long trudge around the land spit to where she and Cal had climbed down the bluff. She remembered that the base of the cliff was nothing but rocks.

and she almost burst into tears. She couldn’t depend on the knee on that kind of footing, and she certainly couldn’t crawl over the rocks because she couldn’t bear to put her weight down on the swollen part of her knee. The only way she could negotiate those rocks was sitting down and sliding from rock to rock. Oh, joy.

She didn’t have to, at least not the entire trip. In the two and a half days she’d been gone, the townspeople had organized watches so they wouldn’t be caught by surprise. Roland Gettys spotted her and came down the chiff to help. Getting over the rocks and to the top of the cliff still took time and considerable effort, longer than she had expected—almost as long as it had taken her to get off the mountain.

Roland took her to the Richardsons, since their house was closest. He left her at the door and hurriedly returned to his watch. To Cate’s surprise, the basement was nearly empty, at least in comparison to the crowd that had been there when she and Cal left. Gena and Angelina were still there, because Gena still couldn’t walk on her sprained ankle; she could barely hobble. Greed and Neenah were there—same reason for him—and Perry and Maureen. Someone had strung ropes across the basement and draped sheets across them to create a little privacy.

Greed gave her a sharp look when she staggered in alone. “Where’s Cal?”

“He’s gone after them,” she gasped, sinking down on a chair Maureen hurriedly shoved at her. “He’s going to try—He said they wouldn’t be looking for him from that direction.”

“Do you want some water?” Maureen asked in concern. “Or something to eat?”

“Water,” Cate said. “Please.”

“What happened?” asked Greed, iron in his tone. “What changed?”

“Joshua,” said Neenah, softly chiding.

“It’s okay,” Cate said. “Cal remembered… He put the things in the attic for me—Layton’s things. There was a shaving kit. When those men—Mellor—when Mellor said he wanted the suitcase, I grabbed the suitcase and gave it to him, and I never thought about the shaving kit. It’s still in the attic. What they want must be in the kit. That’s why they came back.”

“I’ll get it,” said Perry, at a glance from Creed. “What does it look like?”

“It’s just a brown Dopp Kit. It’s sitting on the floor.” Cate closed her eyes, visualizing the attic. “When you get to the top of the stairs, turn to your right. You’ll see two rock-climbing helmets hanging on the wall. The kit is on the floor somewhere in that vicinity, unless Cal shoved it aside when he was getting the climbing gear.”

Perry left, and Cate took the cup of water from Maureen, gulping thirstily. “What happened to your leg?” Maureen asked, looking worried.

“I fell on a rock, landed on my knee. I don’t think there’s any structural damage, but it’s swollen and sore.” That was an understatement. What she wouldn’t give for an ice pack and two aspirin.

“You came to the right place,” said Gena, trying to sound chipper and failing miserably. Her face was pale, her eyes sunken. “This is the orthopedic section.”

“She’s right,” said Neenah, leaving Creed’s side to come to her. “Let’s get you cleaned up and see how that knee looks.”

“I don’t have any clothes to change into,” said Cate, too tired to really care.

“I’ll take care of that,” Maureen said as she helped Cate to a chair in another section of the basement where she could pull a sheet across for privacy. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll send Perry back for it.”

“The poor man. He’ll be exhausted from running back and forth.” Cate closed her eyes and let them undress her down to her underwear, standing on one leg when they helped her up so they could remove both pairs of pants. It was soothing to feel a cool washcloth being stroked over her face, arms, and hands.

“The swelling is really bad,” Neenah murmured. “You probably shouldn’t be using this knee at all.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“I know, but you do now. We’ll arrange some cushions to prop up that leg and support it, so you’ll be more comfortable.” The cloth was dipped in cold water again and laid across her knee. It wasn’t an ice pack, but the cold water was soothing. Maureen appeared with two tablets in her palm; Cate took them without asking what they were, without caring.

Together Neenah and Maureen moved some cushions, boxes, and piles of folded clothing, making a sort of recliner on the floor, then they helped her to it. She sat on the cushions, leaned against the boxes, and the piles of folded clothes were placed under her knee. The support was wonderful. They covered her with a blanket and left her alone.

She went to sleep immediately, not hearing Perry when he returned.

Creed woke her a short time later, hobbling to her “room” with the aid of a cane and dragging a chair with him. Neenah followed, holding the Dopp Kit and giving him an exasperated look “He won’t listen to me,” she complained to Cate, though beneath the exasperation she looked strangely content.

“I know the feeling,” Cate said wryly.

“Is this the right shaving kit?” Creed asked, taking it from Neenah.

Cate nodded. “There isn’t another one in the house. Did you find anything?”

“Nothing. I dumped everything out, opened everything that would open—”

“And some that wouldn’t,” interjected Neenah.

He slanted a quick look up at her, a glance so laden with intimacy that Cate almost sucked in an audible breath. When had this happened?