“Nothing,” Jake said, hiding his concern at the sight of a large animal’s scat. He didn’t want Harper worrying about yet another thing. The cliff jump was going to be challenge enough for now. That, and getting her up there to begin with.
He turned off the flashlight and moved next to her. The small opening was twenty feet above them. He climbed up several feet onto the rock pile, extending his hand to Harper.
“You made me doubt myself about the stalactites and stalagmites,” she accused, taking his hand and following him up the craggy limestone rock and dirt spill without hesitation. “All that talk yesterday about me being a city girl and everything. Lead feet,” she grumbled under her breath as they climbed.
“If the lead shoe fits . . . ,” he said, hauling on her weight with his hand. She came to a halt, three-quarters up the rock pile. She looked stunned.
“You’ve got a sense of humor.” Her smile made his stomach do a little flip-flop. He frowned to hide that fact.
“What, you think a hillbilly can’t make a joke?” he grumbled, climbing up the remaining rocks.
“That’s got nothing to do with it,” she defended, following him, clearly determined to make her point. “You’re so smart about being on your own, and surviving in the woods. My dad would say you’re right-brained. That means you know how to work things mechanically.”
“And that I don’t get jokes?” He hauled her up on the long, narrow rock next to where he crouched. The small opening was just a few feet above them.
“No. Stop twisting my words around.”
“Do you want to go first?”
“What?” she asked, blinking. She glanced around them, blanching when she noticed how far they’d climbed up the jagged rock spill. “Oh, crap.” She reached, clutching desperately at the edge of the opening above them for balance.
“If it bothers you, stop looking,” Jake said firmly. “Look where you’re going, not where you’ve been.” He pointed up at the sunny opening and put his hand on her back. “Go on.”
“But . . .”
“Just do it,” he said, pushing on her back. “It’s not hard to pull yourself out. I’m coming right after you.” When she wavered in the hole, he firmed his resolve. He pushed on her butt hard. She disappeared with a surprised squawk.
He followed her fleetly thr
ough the opening. She was on her hands and knees on the sunny cliff, her head turned, her aquamarine eyes flashing fire.
“It got you up here,” he stated simply, coming to his feet. He reached for her hand as a form of apology. Her expression of outrage melted to one tinged with wonder. Slowly, she fell back onto her haunches and took his hand. He hauled her up.
“You were messing with me so that I wouldn’t notice how high we were on those rocks, weren’t you? You really do know more than just how to take care of yourself and math. I think my dad would want to meet you,” she said once they stood facing each other, their hands remaining clasped.
He rolled his eyes to diminish the warmth that rushed through him at her compliment. She smiled at his flash of embarrassment, all her fury forgotten. She glanced to the side.
“Oh, shit.”
She lurched toward the cliff, jerking him with her. She’d seen the drop-off to the gorge. Her face had gone pale as paper, making the light freckles on her nose appear even more pronounced. She pressed her back to the cliff wall.
“Harper—”
“I’m not jumping off that ledge,” she declared hotly. “That’s not thirty feet!”
“Yeah, it is,” he reasoned, sensing he was losing her. “The hills and the canyon make a kind of . . . of . . . an optical illusion.” Yeah, that’s it. “It fools the brain into thinking the river is farther down than it is.”
“Really?” She cast a wary glance over his shoulder in the direction of the gorge. He’d guessed she’d be convinced by anything that had to do with the brain and psychology, given the way she seemed to hold her dad up on such a tall pedestal. Jake wasn’t above using that knowledge to convince her.
“Yeah,” he insisted, tugging on her hand. She straightened, leaving the wall but refusing to move her feet and get closer to the ledge. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending upon Jake’s frantic, bewildering feelings about her—that meant that she stood very close to him.
“I can’t jump off that cliff, Jake,” she said solemnly, holding his stare.
“You don’t have to. We’re going to do it together.” He put his hands on her hips. They felt round beneath his hands . . . such an incredible, mesmerizing swell of flesh. How could a girl be so different than a boy?
“Like this?” she asked shakily, putting her hands below his waist, mirroring his hold on her. She stepped closer.
He nodded, unable to speak for a few seconds.