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  “Pull him up!” Ben yelled, but his own attention was on hauling Jillian the rest of the way onto the ledge and then pulling her to safety against the wall of the mountain.

  As gently as possible he turned her over onto her back. Her face was ashen, even her lips. She wasn’t screaming, but each inhalation of breath ended in a harsh, almost soundless groan.

  “Can you tell me where it hurts worst, sweetheart?” Ben began feeling each joint, starting in her right hand and working upward. There was a deeply tender note in his voice.

  “Left. . . shoulder,” she panted. She had broken out in a cold sweat. “I think it’s . . . dislocated.”

  It was, and no wonder, with all of Rick’s heavy weight jerking on her sockets the way it had. He was careful in his examination, but even so she cried out every time he touched her. His attention was so focused on her that he was barely aware when the groaning, heaving men finally pulled Rick back onto the ledge, though they were only a few feet away.

  “I have to get the joint back in place,” he murmured. “This is going to hurt like a son of a bitch, but it has to be done.”

  Her pupils had contracted to tiny points from the pain. “What do you think . . . it feels like . . . now? Go ahead . . . do it.”

  Shit, he hated this, knowing how much it was going to hurt her, but she was right; nothing could be gained by waiting. It wasn’t as if they could have her at a hospital within the hour; they might make it in a month, if luck was on their side. Her shoulder had to be put back into position, now. He knew how to do it, had done it before, and had himself once been on the receiving end of the maneuver. It wasn’t any fun. Before he let himself think about it too much, he lifted Jillian’s arm, keeping it straight, and put his free hand on her shoulder.

  She screamed as he snapped the joint into place, her slim body arching rigidly. The hoarse scream echoed around them. He hoped she would faint, but she didn’t. Instead she rolled convulsively to the side and began gagging from the nauseating agony. She’d been pale before, but now she was chalky.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Rick was crawling toward them, his own face pale and still wild-looking.

  “Your weight jerked her shoulder out of its socket when she caught you,” Ben replied, his tone clipped. He was surprised by the violent urge he had to kick Sherwood off the ledge after all, for being so damn stupid and injuring Jillian, not to mention nearly getting her killed in the process.

  Abruptly Rick stopped as his strength deserted him. He flopped on his stomach and lay there shaking like an aspen leaf. “God,” he whispered. After a minute he managed to lift his head. “Will she be all right?”

  Ben wished he had some ice to put on her shoulder to relieve the pain and swelling, but he might as well have wished for the moon. “She won’t feel so hot for a couple of days. That joint’s going to be damn sore.” He reached for a canteen of water and wet his handkerchief, which he used to wash her face and neck. “She’s a little shocky. Prop her feet up on your legs,” he directed, and Rick scooted to obey.

  Gradually Jillian began to feel better; though her shoulder still throbbed, it wasn’t with the agony of before. The nausea faded, and she lay quietly, resting.

  “Feeling better now?” Ben asked after several minutes.

  “Top of the trees,” she murmured.

  “Thatta girl. If you feel like sitting up, I’ll wrap your shoulder. Once it’s immobilized, the throbbing will ease.”

  He spoke as if he had been through the experience himself. Curiosity stirred in Jillian, but quickly faded; she just didn’t have the energy to pursue the subject. Carefully Ben eased her to a sitting position against his knee. Everyone seemed to be standing around, watching her with varying degrees of concern, and for various reasons. Except for Dutra, she noticed. From what she could tell, he was still in the position he’d been in when Rick had fallen. His brutish face was set in a sneer.

  The first-aid supplies included stretch bandages in various widths, in case of sprained ankles or wrenched knees. Ben chose the widest one and tightly bound her shoulder with it, then used another to secure her left arm to her side. If she had felt better she would have glared at him, because the binding did not make her shoulder feel better; it just intensified the throbbing. As if he’d read her thoughts he said, “I know it hurts. Give it a minute. It’ll start feeling better, I promise.”

  Thankfully, the pounding ache did begin to ease. Ben gave her a couple of aspirin, which she gratefully swallowed. Pepe returned while she was still leaning against Ben’s knee, recovering her strength, and she heard Eulogio telling him in their own language what had happened. Above her head, Ben spoke quietly to Pepe, and she half listened to the reply. It seemed they could soon get off this damnable ledge, perhaps after another hour’s travel. So much time had been lost, however, that they might not make it before dark.

  “Then we’ll make it after dark,” Ben replied. “We’re not spending the night on the ledge.” His head dipped down to hers. “Sweetheart, can you walk?”

  She hesitated. “I think so, if you can get me to my feet.”

  Carefully he helped her to stand, and Rick quickly moved to her other side to steady her. She swayed a moment, but took two deep breaths and then stood firm. She even managed a small smile; very small, but still a smile. “All systems go.”

  Ben slid his arms into his pack, then shouldered Jillian’s too.

  “We could divide her load,” Rick said.

  “I don’t want to take the time; we need to be off this ledge before dark. I can manage the weight for an hour.”

  “I’ll help Jillian, then.”

  “No.” Jillian took another deep breath. “It’ll be safer if we go single file. I can walk for an hour. It’s no problem, since Ben is carrying my pack.”

  The look Ben gave her told her that he knew exactly how much of a problem it was, but there was no alternative, so he didn’t say anything. Jillian was glad of his silence. In an odd way, it was a measure of his respect for her strength and capabilities.

  Pepe led the way, and Ben insisted that Jillian go second, while he fell into position right behind her. She knew he wanted to stay close by so he could be there immediately if she started to waver, but she resolutely set one foot in front of the other. The pain wasn’t so bad, not as bad as she had feared. Her shoulder throbbed with each step, but it wasn’t unbearable. The worst of it was the weakness in her legs; she felt as if she were just recovering from a severe case of the flu. Probably a reaction to the shock of pain, as well as crashing down from an adrenaline high. Everything seemed slightly unreal, even Martim’s death. Had it only been a few hours?

  Absurdly, she began to feel hungry. Not exactly a delicate reaction, but then she wasn’t a delicate person. The hunger was reassuring, a mundane touch of reality.

  It was deep twilight when they finally worked their way off the ledge, and completely dark when they plunged once again under the triple canopy. Camp was set up hastily, the men hacking a smaller clearing than usual out of the underbrush, one just large enough to accommodate the tents and the cook fire. Ben set up Jillian’s tent for her, then found a comfortable place for her to sit while Pepe prepared the meal.

  Jillian had no trouble feeding herself, even with her left arm immobilized from the elbow up, and wolfed down the simple meal of rice and canned fish. She usually didn’t drink coffee at night, but Ben handed her a mug of the beverage, heavily sugared, and she drank it without protest. By the time the meal was over, she was feeling much better.

  Rick came over and sat down beside her. He seemed embarrassed, looking not at her but at the ground between his feet. “Uh—I wanted to say thanks for what you did,” he mumbled.

  It was the only friendly gesture she could remember Rick making toward her in her entire life, and she refused to let herself read too much into it. She contented herself with a simple “You’re welcome.”

  He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Are you feeling okay now?” he asked