“Where are you, Ellie?” Michael’s voice came through the intercom.
The intercom.
She could still talk to Michael. Thank you, Lord, for bringing him to me. His voice was a welcome comfort, a rock in the storm of panic that swirled through her. She reminded herself that she could breathe. That was something.
“I don’t know where I am,” she said, panting. “My visor was covered with snow, so I couldn’t see what was happening. I fell off something and ran into something, I think a tree, and now I’m buried in the snow. I’m going to suffocate.”
Ellie could hear the way her words came faster and faster, desperation leaking into her voice.
“I’m not going to let you die,” said Michael, his voice firm and so determined that she believed it. She believed, against all odds, that he would help her. She had believed all her life that God would show her the way. Maybe this was her sign.
“I know you must be scared, but try to slow your breathing,” continued Michael in that same reassuring tone. “I’m coming in your direction. Your fall must have let loose some of the snow from the tree or something, but I’ll find you. I’ll be there soon.”
“How?” Was he just saying that to get her to calm down?
“So far, it’s not too difficult. You left a trail.”
“Are you making a joke?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or to yell at him.
“I’m doing whatever it takes to get you not to panic.”
“Me, too.” She was trying so hard not to think about the heavy weight of the snow on her chest. How far under was she buried?
Ellie forced her thoughts onto something else. “What happened to Aidan?”
“He’s probably right behind us. I’m guessing he’ll find something to ride down the hill on.”
He was still on their tail.
“One problem at a time, Ellie,” Michael added.
“But there are so many to choose from.”
Michael gave a dry laugh. Then all she heard was his breathing. How long would it take for him to find her? Did she have enough air—
“Whoa. You went off this? It’s got to be almost twenty feet high.” His voice was laced with both worry and amazement. “Are you hurt?”
Her shoulder was throbbing and her ankle was twisted in the branch.
“A little, but I don’t think anything’s broken,” she said. “When I fell, my instincts from my horse-riding days kicked in.”
“Okay. I’m heading down the side of... Wait—I see that windshield you were using as a sled.”
Slow, deep breaths. Give yourself over to God’s plan.
“I’m right here. I just need a little more direction from you,” Michael said. “Tell me as much as you can about the tree where you got caught. How big does the branch feel?”
She moved a little. “I don’t know. Maybe two inches thick?”
“Excellent. It sounds like you caught a lower branch, so the entire tree probably isn’t buried. I just need to find it.”
And fast.
“Keep talking,” said Michael. “I need to hear that you’re still okay. Tell me about your horse-riding days.”
He was breathing hard, like he was laboring through the snow, and she tried not to focus on the fact that it was getting harder to breathe inside her helmet. Or the way the snow was pressing down on her chest. How long did she have? She searched her mind for something that was so far away from this moment. Something that was the opposite of being trapped.
“I grew up on a ranch in Northern California, right on the border of Nevada, and my parents... Well, it wasn’t easy to make money. They loved me, but there was always something. But I had a horse. Buster. A palomino. During the summers, when I was out of school, I’d take Buster out around our land and help my dad mend the fences. I spent a lot of time on my own, and I loved it.”
“So that’s how you knew how to ride a horse. A true ranch girl,” said Michael.
Ellie supposed she was, even after all these years living on the coast in Santa Barbara. It was funny that way, how she and Sean would go to events where the ballroom was filled with people, yet she’d felt so out of place that she’d been lonelier than she’d ever been on the ranch.
“One afternoon,” she continued, “I was leading Buster down to the creek for a drink. As I stood there, I saw something move in this little space between a rock and a bunch of grass, just under a bush. I stood still, just watching, and sure enough, there was a nose. A rabbit hopped out. I watched it take another cautious hop, and then, from under the bush, I saw another tiny one. Then another and another poked their noses out. They were each small enough to fit in my hand.” The memory brought comfort, so she kept going. “I’ve never seen something so beautiful, this little family, all out exploring together. I didn’t want to get closer, to scare them and their mother, so I just stood there, watching for as long as I could. I would have stood there all day, but Buster snorted and they all disappeared again.”
She could still see them, one jumping on the other’s back, the third one nuzzling their mother’s side.
“Sounds like...” Michael’s voice trailed off and then he said, “I think I found the tree. I’m going to use my piece from the sled to dig, and I want you to tell me the moment you hear or feel any movement.”
Her heart raced in her chest.
“See or feel anything?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m moving, digging in a new place.” She could hear his labored breathing and she wondered just how close he was to exhaustion. Her own body ached, and the place where she’d hit her head this morning throbbed from lying on it. The tips of her fingers were starting to cool.
“Still nothing?”
