Grave Consequences (Grand Tour Series #2) (27 page)

After a hearty lunch of beef stew and crusty bread in a cozy alpine inn, we met up with our guides. We rode in the back of a wagon pulled by oxen up a long, steep hill. We women had been given the option of staying behind with Yves and Claude—waiting in the warm inn, sitting by the fire while the men hiked the glacier—an option none of us took, since we all were excited about this adventurous excursion. From the top of the hill, we would begin our hike up and onto the nearby glacier, a force that had been shaping these mountains and valleys for thousands of years and was slowly receding.

Our guides slipped hobbled nail straps around our boots, tied us together with ropes, from waist to waist, and handed us poles for balance. We climbed a series of rickety makeshift ladders to the top of the glacier’s edge, a hundred feet above us. Despite the exercise, I was glad for my split skirt and the warm woolen leggings Anna had insisted I wear, as well as for my gloves, scarf, and coat. It was frigid, challenging work, and I wondered how my sisters and Nell were doing behind me. We were arranged from the biggest to the smallest of us. One big guide of about fifty years of age, his face wrinkled and weather-beaten, led the way, just ahead of Will and Andrew. Just ahead of me was Hugh. Behind me were Vivian and the girls. Two younger men—the leader’s sons?—brought up the very end, perhaps staged there to help the women.

I resolved I would need no assistance. It was exhilarating, being here, so near the top of the mountains, on top of this ice set in place by the hand of God thousands of years ago.… Along the two miles we walked, we saw cirques—rounded carvings in stone and ice, like massive, natural amphitheaters. We saw ridges hewn into razor-sharp tips, and valleys in sweeping, rounded rivers still filled with the last vestiges of glacial meltings.

The sun, high and bright, warmed our heads, even as a cold wind chapped our cheeks and noses. Behind me, Vivian grumbled about what it might do to our complexions, but she kept up with the slow, sure pace our lead guide set. At one point, we paused in an ice cave with a wide, curved roof of blue and a rivulet running along the bottom. The farther back we went, the darker blue it was. We turned to look back out. I didn’t think I’d ever forget that perspective—of the smooth, Mediterranean-blue ice framing the most picturesque alpine view I’d ever seen…a green valley, a swath of red wildflowers on one hillside, far below, and mountain upon mountain above her.

“Smell that?” Will said, and we all inhaled.

The odor made my nose twitch. It was a particular, earthy, mineral-rich scent.

“That is what a few on the
Titanic
said they could smell before they hit the iceberg. It’s unique, is it not?”

“I don’t believe it,” Hugh said with a scoff. “How could they smell it above the scent of the sea?”

Will shrugged. “Believe what you wish. I, for one, think it possible.”

And I agreed. It was a smell that made an imprint on the mind—like the loamy mud on a riverbank, or soil just turned on the farm come spring, or the grassy smell of manure. As we exited the ice cave, thoughts of the smells of home made me wonder over just how far I was from Montana. Never in my life had I thought to come this far, experience this sort of adventure. What joy it would be to relate to my students, my stories! To plant a seed within them that might grow into a desire to explore, experience such things themselves. So many never left their hometowns in Montana. So few even went to Butte or Billings or Helena. I myself had never left the state before Wallace Kensington came to call.

As we hiked on, heading toward another viewpoint, I got lost in thoughts of my biological father. Was it true? Would he truly keep me from returning to Normal School, from teaching? When we had agreed on it? When it was my heart’s desire? I understood that he might attempt to keep me involved with the family. In truth, I continued to warm to that idea. But to keep me from meaningful work? The means to provide for myself? Or, worse, force me into a union I didn’t want? I didn’t want to—

A scream behind me made me look up, right before I felt the ice give way beneath me. I saw the guide ram his ice pick into the glacier and whip more rope around it, even as I heard his younger compatriots do the same behind us. They were shouting, in German, words we didn’t understand. Not that we could do anything. We all slid to the end of our ropes, wincing as we came to an abrupt jolting stop, like a giant’s necklace of human bodies, separated by a length of rope. I gasped for air, hanging over a ledge, a deep crevasse beneath me. My heart pounded as I craned my neck, looking for the bottom. I couldn’t see it.
If these ropes give way, we’ll—

“Cora…are you all right?” Hugh asked over his shoulder to me.

“I…I think so,” I said. The girls were crying behind me. The men were all shouting at once. Vivian was quiet.

“Viv? You all right?” I asked. I tried to turn to see her, but I could not. And I was struggling to breathe, the rope was so tight around my abdomen.

“Lil!” I cried when Vivian didn’t respond. “Is Vivian all right?”

“Her head…” the girl said, tears thick in her voice. “I think she must’ve hit a rock.”

I closed my eyes and grimaced, then felt the tug of rope. They were already hauling us up, I thought with relief as I moved a few inches. There was more shouting above, the men below quieting, perhaps all trying as hard as I was to take the next breath.

“We can’t haul you up this way!” Will shouted, from somewhere above us. “It’s too much weight! Hugh, do you have your knife on you?” I remembered that the men had all purchased Swiss Army knives while we perused a glove shop, and then we had all gathered in a watch shop.

“Yes! I think I can reach it!”

Will’s face appeared fifteen feet above us. “I know this will be frightening, but Hugh, I need you to cut the rope between you and Felix. We need the group divided in order to be able to pull you up.”

Hugh groaned and lifted his head, fear radiating from him. “Hold on, girls,” he called. Lillian whimpered above me. I swallowed hard. I knew what was to come when he cut the rope. We’d go swinging deeper into the crevasse.…

Despite myself, I cried out as he finally sawed the rope apart and we slid again, sweeping into a vertical line down and into the crevasse, as the others swept away from us.

I heard Hugh gasp as he hit the crevasse wall, and then I hit it too and slid downward, my hip and then leg catching just as we came to a stop. I screamed as my calf lodged between two planes of ice. Hugh dangled beneath me, pulling my leg deeper with his weight.

I turned my head and looked down at him. We still couldn’t see to the bottom of the crevasse. I fought to study his face instead of the horrific drop beneath him. “My leg…I’m caught, Hugh.”

Above us, the guides began to haul us up, and I cried out as I felt my body twist and the movement wrenched at my leg.

“Stop! Stop!” Hugh shouted, his voice echoing through the crevasse in eerie fashion.

I grimaced and looked down at him. “I think we’re in a predicament,” I said, trying to add some levity.

Hugh just stared at me and then swore under his breath. “We need another rope!” he screamed.

Fifteen feet above us, Lillian repeated his words, fear in every syllable.

“You can’t wiggle it free?” Vivian asked, apparently conscious again.

“No,” I said. “It’s really lodged.” Even now, I could feel my toes going numb, the circulation cut off. Dimly, I thought about the burned heretic Severtus and how he’d discovered pulmonary circulation.

“What’s wrong?” Felix called, from twenty feet away, already moving as they hauled him toward safety, his boots against the ice as if this were simply a mountaineering pleasure excursion.

“Cora…she’s stuck,” Hugh said, gasping for breath, the rope probably digging into his diaphragm.

“Hang on!” Felix called. “I’ll tell them what’s happening and we’ll get to you in a minute.”

None of us answered, each just trying to stay calm and concentrate on breathing. Could it be? That I’d come so far, experienced so much, just to die here? Stuck in the clutches of a glacier’s fingers? I laughed under my breath. Never had I thought I might share my last moments with Hugh Morgan, of all people. Felix was shouting for a rope. I thought I heard Will translating.

A moment later, another rope slapped my right shoulder. Hugh grabbed hold of it. “Thank God,” he muttered. I turned my head and watched him fashion a seat out of it and slip it around his legs. He yanked on the second rope, testing the tension. “All right!” he shouted. “Hold on to me! I’m going to move to the second rope and release the tension on Cora!”

He moved, trying his best to not pull at me, but some tugging was inevitable. I squeezed my eyes shut and sucked in my breath as my leg wrenched again. But then there was sweet relief. No more pulling. I tried moving my leg, hoping that now that I was free of Hugh’s weight, I could escape the trap, but to no avail.

“Take me up five feet!” Hugh shouted.

He was immediately beside me, his knees against the ledge that held me captive. “Well, I confess when I’d dreamed of a moment alone with you, it wasn’t here.”

I laughed, knowing he was trying to make me smile. And I welcomed it, even if it was Hugh. “How did you know how to do that with the rope?”

“We Morgan boys have done our share of mountaineering,” he said, as if surprised that I didn’t know such things. “Last summer we trekked fifty miles of the Continental Divide in Montana.”

“Really?”

“I need a third rope!” Hugh called upward, ignoring my question, concentrating on the task at hand. “And an ice pick!” He looked back at me, his eyes deadly serious. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him like that, so in charge. Yet so compassionate. “We need to cut Vivian and the girls loose, so that we’re only dealing with your weight. Then we can get you free.”

I nodded, trying to gather enough saliva to swallow. He watched me and then reached for a canteen on his belt. “Here. Drink.”

I took it from him, unscrewed the lid, and did as he asked, grateful for the cold water that slid down my throat. I could hear Lil and Nell crying above me.

“Your leg,” Vivian said from above me, twisting to look at me but unable to stay in one position for more than a moment. “Is it broken?”

“I…I don’t think so. I think it’s simply stuck. But
really
stuck.”

The third rope arrived. Hugh slipped his canteen into his belt loop and fashioned another loop out of it. “Here. Slip it around your shoulders and under your arms.” I did as he asked, and once it was in place, he yanked on it. “Rope three is secure around Cora!” he called.

He pulled his knife back out and looked at me. “I’m going to cut the girls loose.”

I nodded and watched as he sawed at the taut rope, the wisps of each strand fraying and catching the sunlight from above. Finally, he got through it, and the girls cried a little as they shifted left with me no longer tethering them. “Take them up!” Hugh called.

They immediately began separating from me, and I felt a new shaft of despair, a peculiar sense of loneliness that made me glad that Hugh was with me.
For the first time on this entire tour, I’m glad I’m with Hugh Morgan.
It made me laugh, within. God had an odd sense of humor.
It couldn’t have been Will, Father? That would’ve been far more agreeable.…

But despite my whiny prayer, I had to grudgingly admire Hugh and his sure, strong movements. As the girls disappeared above us, one of the younger guides repelled down to us, ice pick in hand. He paused beside Hugh, then grabbed hold of the ledge and yanked.

“Yeah, I tried that,” Hugh said in English, but the young man was already moving on, examining the placement of my leg in the small gap, measuring with his hand how deep I was lodged within it.

Without another word, he pushed Hugh to the left, right by my head and out of his way, then pulled the pick from his belt. He dug the toes of his nail-tipped boots into the ice, bounced on them a bit to make certain he was secure, then pulled back the pick in order to strike.

I gasped and closed my eyes. Hugh shouted and grabbed hold of my shoulder. But then I felt the impact, directly below my calf. I opened my eyes to see him lifting for a second swing and quickly shut them again, unable to watch as he rammed down again, into the ice, as deadly certain as if he’d done it a thousand times.
Perhaps he has
, I thought, turning to stare into the blue cliff at my left, rather than see him lift that pick again. I didn’t want to remember the strike that ultimately led to that fearsome metal nose piercing my leg.…

After fifteen more strikes, I felt the ice give way, and I cried out as I swung left, directly toward Hugh.

Our guide shouted something upward in German.

But I was wrapping my arms around Hugh, clinging to his jacket with my fingers, terrified we’d fall again.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” he soothed. He smiled at me, waiting for me to look up and into his eyes. “Now this is more like it,” he said, the cavalier, roguish glint back in his tone. “Cora Diehl Kensington, at last in the right man’s arms.”

I gasped for breath, wanting to laugh and cry and scream at the same time. He was only teasing me, slipping back into his rogue act. But I’d seen it—that glimpse of humanity. And I knew that I couldn’t distrust him any longer. Not after what had just transpired.

“How’s the leg?” he asked.

I gingerly turned my ankle and wriggled my toes. “Numb…but I think it’s all right.” I shook my head in wonder.

“Good,” he said, smiling. “Take her up,” he called, lifting his face.

The guide beside us repeated his order in German, and I was immediately moving. But my eyes stayed on Hugh. “Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome.”

I reached the top, and the girls immediately surrounded me, hugging me and all talking at once in excited and relieved chatter. I limped a couple of steps, and Will was there, then, beside me, bending to look into my eyes, one hand out to catch me if I fell. “Are you all right?”

I looked up into his eyes and saw that he looked pale. I nodded. “I think it’s just numb from getting lodged. It feels dead, like a lump of flesh rather than a foot.”