Page 13 of Igniting Her

A pulse moved in Ridge’s jaw. “Yes, Captain.”

“Keep going,” Cassie ordered.

The system came together in under two minutes. Mo secured the lateral line to the outrigger’s rated anchor point. Priya built the three-to-one mechanical advantage while Ridge rigged the redirect through a pulley at the south side of the aerial tip, checking that it could be released under load. Jamie lowered the messenger line. Teak clipped the lateral carabiner to the right positioning ring of her harness with one hand. “Connection locked,” she called.

Cassie put Ridge on the lateral haul and Mo at the brake. Priya monitored both primary lines. Jamie stayed at the edge, eyes on Teak and the rock face.

“On my count,” Cassie said. “Main system holds. Lateral takes only enough to change the vector. No one chases movement. Ready?”

Four confirmations.

“Teak?”

“Ready.”

“Lateral tension.” Ridge hauled. The pulley advanced a few inches. Teak’s harness turned south, slowly enough that Cassie could see each strap accept the change. The trapped boot remained still.

“Hold,” Jamie called. Everyone froze.

Teak tested her leg. “Again. Small.”

Cassie nodded. “Two inches.”

Ridge drew the line through. Teak’s hip shifted. Her boot slid sideways out of the notch and dropped free. The relief on the road was silent.

“Ankle unstable,” Teak said through clenched teeth. “I’m not descending on it.”

“You’re coming up.” Cassie transferred the lateral line to a controlled tag, keeping Teak clear of the slab while the haul team raised her on the twin system. Jamie guided her through the edge. The moment Teak reached asphalt, Priya was at her side, hands moving over the swelling ankle.

“County rescue is three minutes out,” Mo said.

Below them, Evan’s scrub root tore halfway from the dirt.

Ridge was already stepping into the spare harness. Cassie looked at her. “You do not move until I finish the check.”

“I’m not moving.” She stood perfectly still, which was somehow still argumentative.

Cassie checked every buckle herself. Ridge’s breathing lifted the harness beneath Cassie’s hands. Up close, there was dust along the bridge of her nose and a shallow cut beside her jaw. Neither of them spoke. Cassie pulled the waist strap once, harder than necessary, then checked the carabiners. “You’re taking the south line. No contact with the failed seam. Patient goes into the harness before you move him. If the shelf changes, you call it.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Say the last part.”

Ridge held her gaze. “I call it if the shelf changes.”

Cassie stepped back. “Lower.”

Ridge went over the edge with none of the speed she had used on the drill tower. She took each section as it came, testing the face, keeping her weight in the system. The new fall line brought her to the south end of Evan’s shelf. She spoke to him before touching him. Under Priya’s direction, she checked the circulation in his injured leg and secured it in a padded splint, then clipped his patient harness to both rescue lines. Probable closed fracture of the right femur. No loss of consciousness or spinal pain. Pulse present in the foot. The shelf held.

The county unit arrived as Ridge finished packaging him. Cassie folded them into the haul team without surrendering command. At her count, they lifted Evan clear. Ridge tended him from her own line, keeping his injured leg from the cliff. The aerial carried both ropes cleanly over the edge. “Patient at ten.” Hands reached over the rail. Evan came onto the road pale, shaking, and alive. Priya and the county medic moved him to the stretcher.

Ridge cleared the edge last.

Cassie disconnected her from the system because her hands were there and because delegating it would have required thought. Ridge pulled off her helmet. Wind lifted the short end of her braid. She looked exhausted, bright-eyed, and determined not to ask for anything.

Cassie gave her what she had earned. “Good.” The word changed Ridge’s face. Not much. A quick opening around the eyes, a breath that nearly became a smile. She received it like a medal, then tried to hide that she had.

Cassie hated that she noticed. She hated more that saying it had felt necessary.