Maybe the reaction was small of her, but she didn’t mind being small.

“We’re fueling up on loaded omelettes before the climb.” Riley spoke very casually, topped off her coffee. “According to Annika”—she gestured toward the table with her mug—“we make it just fine.”

“Good.”

He glanced back, his relief just visible enough to tip Riley over the borderline into full amusement when Bran came down.

“Ah, just the man I wanted to see. I want to get the rope from the garage. We’ve time for that, Sasha?”

“You’ve got ten minutes.”

“Time enough. Give me a hand, will you, Doyle?”

Riley held her snicker until they’d gone out.

In the garage, Bran lifted a coil of sturdy rope from its hook on the wall. “Well, now I know why I felt I had to have all this.” He passed it to Doyle, lifted off a second coil.

“It’s more than enough for this. The cave’s about fifteen feet down.”

“I could get us there without the rope,” Bran considered. “Though I’d feel better about it if I’d been there first myself. It’s orienting, really. Sawyer could do the same, once he logged it, but. . .”

“You have the rope,” Doyle finished. “And think there’s a reason for that.”

“Tied together, rather than me taking us down one or two at a time. I think it has to be tied together, yes.” Bran angled his head. “Are you worried then?”

“No. No, it’s a tricky climb, but nothing this lot can’t handle.”

“What then?”

“It’s nothing. It’s other. It isn’t relevant.” Bollocks. “Riley says she’s in love with me.”

Bran merely nodded. “Then you’re a fortunate man.”

“That might be, if I were just a man. And even then, we’ve got more pressing matters. If she’s pissed off at me because I didn’t—couldn’t—” He broke off with a curse. “If she’s distracted by what she thinks she feels . . .”

“I’d say Riley knows herself very well. That’s one. And to add, she didn’t seem pissed or distracted just now to me.”

“She’s canny,” Doyle contested, and made Bran smile.

“That she is. And still from where I’m standing it’s yourself who seems distracted and pissed. You have feelings for her.”

“Of course I do. We’re sleeping together.”

“To borrow from Sawyer, just let me say: Dude.”

That surprised a laugh out of Doyle. “All right, no, I haven’t had feelings for every woman I’ve slept with. But we’re part of a unit, we’re connected.” He studied the rope. “Tied together.”

“I’m a man in love, and that love increases every day. It’s amazing to me. So I’ve seen your struggle. We’re connected—tied together—so I’d wish you happy, as I’ve seen, clear enough, she adds to you, and you to her. But it’s for you to know, you to decide.”

“There’s nothing more to know, and no decision to make. And more pressing matters to deal with.” Doyle took the last coil of rope off the wall.

• • •

Once they’d eaten, they stood at the seawall.

Sasha looked over and down, paled. “It’s a long drop.”

“Mister Wizard isn’t going to let you fall.” Expertly, Riley looped rope around Sasha’s waist. “Plus, as discussed, Sawyer, Doyle, and I all have rock-climbing experience. All you have to do is watch your step, follow our lead.”

“And don’t look down,” Sasha said.

“If the bow feels awkward, leave it here. You can take one of my guns. You’re a better than decent shot.”

“I’m better with the bow. I can handle it.”

Riley secured a knot. She might have wished for some sturdy carabiners, a couple of belay devices, and some good harnesses, but you couldn’t have everything. And the rope was first-rate.

She measured a length, moved to secure Bran.

“She’ll be fine,” Riley said quietly, “but if she gets jiggly, talk to her. That’ll calm her down.”

She shifted her gaze, noted Doyle looped Sawyer in beside Annika. Satisfied, she began securing herself.

“Let me check that.” Doyle moved to her.

She took a mental survey as his hands brushed here, there. Yeah, she could handle it.

“The first real climb for me was in Arizona, studying the Ancestral Puebloans. Hot and dry,” she added, glancing up to the soft blue of the morning sky. “Windless.” She looked back at him, met his eyes. “Sasha’s jittery, but she’ll handle it.”

“Okay. Secure the end.”

He waited while Riley wound the rope around a tree trunk, tied it off.

“Want to check it?”

Doyle shook his head. As in most things, she knew what she was doing.

Though he didn’t need the rope, he used it. And took the lead by vaulting over the wall. With her usual enthusiasm, Annika leaped over with him.

“Easy,” Sawyer warned, and landed on the narrow edge of soft sod. “Not everybody has your balance.”

“He means me.” Sasha swung over. “I’ve got it. Don’t worry.”

Riley waited, let Doyle start the climb down, then rolled over the wall.

She considered the first five feet the kiddie slope, and would have enjoyed the challenge to come—along with the crash and spume of waves, the light swirl of wind, the feel of the cliff face—if she wasn’t worried about Sasha.