“Me!” Sonja piped up suddenly, unexpectedly. “I’m first!” She grabbed Danny’s hand and looked at her with utter trust. “Come with me?”
“I—” It came out as a wheeze. “Oh, no, honey. I can’t go in there. I’m . . .” She trailed off, not wanting to say she was scared of the cave when the little girl had every reason in the world to be afraid. But that same world pressed in on Danny and threatened to spin when she looked at the dark opening leading into the hillside.
She couldn’t go in there. She just couldn’t.
Right?
A reassuring hand gripped her shoulder, and Sam crouched down close enough that she felt his warmth on her too-cool skin. “I’ll take you in,” he said to Sonja. “I’m a cool dude, remember? We found the bunny in your rock the other night.”
The little girl’s lips curved slightly, and she echoed, “Bunny.” But she didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. If anything, her grip tightened.
“Danny needs to stay out here,” Sam said. “You can either stay with her or you can visit the cave with me.”
Sonja’s eyes filled, but she didn’t argue. She probably didn’t dare, after what had just happened. But, darn, she was tough. She was the one with the here-and-now reason to be afraid, and she was trusting herself to a bunch of adults she barely knew. A thin trickle of oxygen made its way back into Danny’s lungs, and for a second, she felt the stomach-swooping terror-slash-excitement that used to grip her in the last few seconds before a race began, when the timer counted down and the barrier fell. Then, not sure she believed the words were coming from her mouth until she heard them out in the open, she said, “It’s okay. I’ll do it.”
Sam’s grip on her shoulder tightened and he leaned in to say in an undertone, “You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me, and not to them.”
No, but maybe she had to prove something to herself. “I can handle it,” she said softly. Seeing the doubt shadows, she added, “Please.”
She didn’t need his permission, of course. But she could sure use his support.
He held her gaze for a long moment—long enough for her to wonder what he saw in her, whether it would be enough. Then he nodded and held out his flashlight. “Take this. It’ll be pitch-dark in there without it.”
The words brought a shiver, but his approval steadied her. She took the flashlight, gripping tight where it was warm from his body heat, and studied the opening. She had heard the others talking about the short tunnel and had seen pictures of the cave. And if Murph and Midas had fit, then she and Sonja would have room to spare.
If she kept telling herself that, she might not hurl.
“Okay, kiddo,” she said to Sonja. “You ready?”
The little fingers—as hot and sticky as her own—tightened on her hand, and the child nodded, stern and serious. “Ready.”
“I’ve got your back,” Sam rasped. He pressed something into her hand. “And I won’t leave you behind. I promise.”
For a second, she flashed back. A little piece of sky visible overhead. Heads poking through and looking down at her, calling, “They’re sending a helicopter with better equipment” and “Hang on, Danny! It won’t be long now!” Most of the time, though, that piece of sky had been empty, the chimney silent as she lay there, looking up and fighting to breathe.
Brandon had left her alone, let her down. Sam wouldn’t, though. He would be there for her, no matter what.
Emotion lumped in her throat, and she nodded. Opening her hand, she found that he had given her another light, this one a compact lantern. Pocketing it, she got down on her hands and knees facing the cut-through. “I’m going to go in first with the light,” she said to Sonja. “Then, when I say to, you crawl in after me. Keep your head way down. Okay?”
The little girl nodded solemnly, and mouthed, O . . . kay.
Danny stuck the flashlight in her mouth like she had done a thousand times before in her other life. And, moving fast so she wouldn’t have time to think this through and back out, she went headfirst into the rabbit hole with no helmet, no gear, no nothing. Just her and the rocks.
Cool stone closed in on her, cutting out the light and sparking a wave of panic. But the fear couldn’t close her throat when she had the flashlight in her teeth and a little girl counting on her. Just keep going. It opens up soon. She could see the inner chamber up ahead, glittering like a disco ball. The short passage narrowed, though, forcing her to crouch, almost belly-crawl. Just keep going.
Her head and shoulders made it through, and her body followed. And the first breath she took in there was a gasp of wonder. “Oh!”
The pictures didn’t even come close. The beehive-shaped cave had a smooth stone floor and curved walls lined with pink quartz. The crystals glittered in the flashlight beam, creating shadows that moved and danced across her vision.
“How are you doing in there?” Sam called, his voice echoing strangely along the passage, which looked so much shorter from this side.
“I’m good. I’m fine. It’s so pretty! Send Sonja in.”
There was a pause, then a scuffling noise filled the chamber and a small body blocked the outside light. Danny didn’t let herself think about the mountain surrounding her, or the fact that her only exit was blocked. Her only air supply. Instead, she closed her eyes and pictured herself out in the great wide-open, happy and free. She had meant to imagine herself at Blessing Valley, sitting at the table and looking out over the river with Whiz at her feet and the squirrels carrying on overhead. Instead, she found herself picturing the view from the top of Wolf Rock, from within the circle of Sam’s arms. Startled by the image, by its clarity, she opened her eyes. And realized that her pulse was under control, her hand steady.
Training the flashlight on the passageway, she called, “You’re doing great, Sonja. Just a little more.”
Moments later, a blond head appeared in the opening, followed by a compact body, staying low and wiggling along like a little tadpole. Then, wide-eyed but unafraid, the little girl gathered herself, sat up, and looked around.
“See?” Danny panned the flashlight, making the crystals dance. “Isn’t it beautiful? And just think, we’re two of the first people in the world to see it, ever in all of history.”
She wasn’t sure how much of that registered, but the little girl’s lips parted in wonder and she gazed, transfixed. “Woooow.”
Remembering the lantern, Danny dug in her pocket. “Let’s try this.” She clicked it on, but instead of white light, it glowed purple. And where the flashlight beam wasn’t touching, the pink rocks glowed. “They’re fluorescent!”
Sam’s chuckle reverberated along the tunnel. “It gets even better if you kill the flashlight. Just for a second, though. You don’t want to give yourselves a tan in there.”
Danny barely hesitated. She clicked the flashlight off, plunging them into purple-tinged darkness. And she marveled as pink and purple danced through the air, seemingly floating in midair. “Isn’t it beautiful? Sonja, isn’t it pretty?”
There was a shuffling noise, and a little body hit her, driving the breath out of her lungs. Thin arms went around her neck tightly enough to strangle her, and little feet stepped on her thighs hard enough to bruise.
Danny knew it wasn’t an attack, that it was just Sonja, just a hug. Still, panic slapped and the lantern slipped from her fingers. Bounced away. Went dark.
Dark.
Panic slashed, locking her senses. She was blind. Deaf. Insensate. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t—
Don’t you dare, she shouted at herself. You can do this. You can do anything. She refused to panic—she couldn’t do that to Sonja or Sam. Or, most of all, to herself. She would pull it together, darn it. She was stronger than this! Breathe, she told herself. Just keep breathing.
And pretty soon, the darkness within the darkness started to ebb and the panic subside
d. Then, suddenly, like a switch had flipped in her head, she could hear Sonja’s quiet sobs and her own harsh breathing. And she could feel the little arms around her neck, hanging on like she was salvation.
She was okay. She could do this. Sonja needed her.
As her heart broke for the child, Danny wrapped her arms around the shaking little body and rocked them both. “Hush,” she said. “Shh. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Are they going to get a d-divorce?”
Danny closed her eyes, wishing she had an answer. “I don’t know, Sonja.” When that didn’t seem like nearly enough, she added, “But I do know one thing for sure. They both love you very much. And that’s never going to change, no matter what happens.”
She kept rocking, kept soothing, lost track of the time it took for Sonja’s tears to fade to hiccups, and from there to steady breathing. “You’re okay,” she whispered into the child’s sweaty, dusty hair. “It’s going to be okay.” One way or the other.
“Danny?” Sam called. “How’s it going in there?”
“I’m fine. We’re fine.” Getting there, anyway.
“Can you come on out? There’s someone out here who wants to talk to Sonja.”
Figuring that Kevin was probably getting anxious—either to see his sister or take his turn in the cave, Danny groped around, found the flashlight, and clicked it back on. “What do you think?” she asked, her voice steady though her lungs ached like she had run a marathon in the space of ten minutes. “You ready to get out of here?”
Sonja eased back, blinking reddened eyes. “O-kay.” Again, a whisper. “Kevin misses me.”
Thinking it was good that the kids had each other, Danny said, “Let’s go see him, and you can give him a good nyah-nyah because you were in here first.”
That got a small, wobbly smile that made her feel like a million bucks.
The trip out was far easier than the way in, especially when Sonja went from a belly crawl to a sudden blur and shot out of the tunnel, hollering, “Mommy! Daddy!”
With her out of the way, Danny could see the kids’ parents standing near the cave mouth, looking strained and awkward, but standing closer together than before.
“Sonja!” Mindy went down on her knees and caught her daughter in a fierce hug. Moments later, Declan crouched beside them and put his arms around his wife and daughter with Kevin sandwiched in the middle, in a whole-family hug that had Danny’s heart swelling in her chest.
“I’m sorry.” Declan’s voice was rough with emotion. “I’m so sorry you guys saw that, and that it got to this point. I don’t want to be like this with you and your mom. Not anymore.”
Mindy nodded against his throat, eyes wet. “We’re going to fix things,” she told the kids, sniffling as she said it. “We promise. We love you and we love each other, and that’s all that matters.”
“Ohh,” Danny breathed, her chest tightening with hope.
“Hey, you okay?” Sam’s face appeared suddenly at the end of the tunnel, and his hands reached for her. “Come on. Let’s get you out here.” He pulled her the rest of the way out, and then into a hard hug that squeezed the air out of her lungs. “I can’t believe you did that,” he said into her hair. “You’re incredible!”
It didn’t matter that she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even really move. She burrowed into him, her pulse throbbing as it hit her—not just that Mindy and Declan had had the breakthrough they so badly needed, but that she had just conquered the fear monster. “I did, didn’t I?” She levered herself away to grin up at Sam. “I did it!”
He lowered his head and kissed her in celebration, his lips avid and ardent on hers, and blocking out all rational thought. It suddenly didn’t matter that the others were right there, or that this was her job, as informal as it might be. What mattered was the way they fit together and the heady knowledge that he hadn’t tried to fix things for her. He had stood back and let her fix them for herself.
She had come to Wyoming to find herself, and she had done that. But she had found something very special with him, too.
* * *
Friday afternoon, as the rockhounds crested Mustang Ridge and headed down into the valley, where the ranch spread out pretty as a picture and distant horses whinnied a welcome, the mood was high. Each saddlebag contained a stone or two; Jon was making plans to head home with Abel and Maura to meet his bio-mom; and Declan and Mindy rode close, with their heads tipped together as they talked and talked, as if a dam had broken between them.
As prospecting trips went, Sam figured they had done just fine. And as Reunion Weeks went, they had struck gold.
“See down there by the lake?” Danny asked Sonja and Kevin. “Where all that wood is piled up? That’s for the bonfire we’re going to have tonight. And the smoke there is from the barbecue. Gran and Dory have probably been cooking all day, getting ready for the party. We’re going to have pulled pork, chicken, burgers, the works . . . and then, once it’s dark and the bonfire is going, we’ll toast marshmallows and learn some line dances.”
Face alight, Kevin reined his horse around. “Mom! Dad! Did you hear that?” When they didn’t answer immediately, he sent his horse back toward them, with Sonja and her pony tagging doggedly behind, the little girl calling, “Ke-vin, wait for meeee!”
Sam chuckled and nudged Yoshi up beside Danny’s docile bay gelding. “I used to think it must be a drag, having to get excited for the same big send-off barbecue-slash-bonfire each week and trying to act like it was new and different.”
Her lips curved. “And now?”
“Now I figure the whole guest routine is far more like prospecting than I realized. You might find two pockets right next to each other, might even find the same kind of crystals inside. But everything else is going to be different—the clusters, the way they come out of the ground, the way they polish up . . . No two gem deposits are ever going to be identical, and I’m never going to get tired of mining them.”
She knocked her boot against his, in the mounted version of bumping him with her shoulder or squeezing his hand. “That’s exactly the way I feel. Every tour group is different because the people are different. Sure, some are more fun than others, but that’s life. If I hadn’t been leading tours out of Mustang Ridge, I would have missed getting to know some really interesting people, and I wouldn’t have gotten to see their faces when they saw their first eagle or ate their first wild berry.”
“Or found their first piece of aquamarine.”
“Exactly! And next year, I’ll have even more variety. Six adventure treks with Mustang Ridge, six that I’ll be leading for the Card Sharps’ Inn, at least two for the tourism bureau.” She ticked them off on her fingers, her face alight. “I’ve already started doing the research on old-timey gambling in the area, and brainstorming some new themes. How does Wagon Train Walk sound, or Railroader’s Ramble?”
Her enthusiasm was infectious, beyond adorable. Giving her a boot knock in return, he said, “They sound spot-on. Mark my words, Wyoming Walkabouts is going to be a huge success.”
She twinkled over at him. “That’s nice to hear, especially since you’re not the slightest bit biased.”
“Maybe I am, but I’m also darn good at seeing a whole lot of stones and picking out the rough gems.”
“Are you saying I need polishing?” she challenged.
He dropped his reins to hold up both hands, trusting Yoshi to follow the other horses through the big gate into the ranch proper. “Hey, we’re talking about Wyoming Walkabouts here. As far as you’re concerned, there isn’t a thing I would change.”
“Ha! Good save.” But she was grinning at him as they came around the corner of the barn into the parking lot. There, barn staffers were helping the guests down from their horses, and several of the other guests—the ones who had opted for cattle roping rather than rock hunting—were waiting to see what
the prospectors had found. Danny guided her mount to a clear spot and swung down, saying over her shoulder, “I think you’re right, though. I’ve got a really good feeling about—” She broke off, her expression going slack as her boots hit the ground. “Oh. My. God.”
Sam stiffened. “What?” Not seeing any reason for the sudden horror in her voice and on her face, he scanned the horizon. “Do you see smoke? A fire?”
But her attention was fixed on a man and a woman standing some distance away from the other guests, waving at her. “No,” she said in a dire tone. “It’s my parents.”
19
“Danny!” Bea Traveler flapped her Red Sox cap, startling a snort out of the horse nearest her. “Over here!”
Danny almost couldn’t process the sight of her parents standing there, so out of their normal context, but hard on the heels of shock came a rush of emotion. “Oh! What are you . . . How did you . . . I can’t believe this!” She took a step toward them, then realized she was still holding her horse.
Out of nowhere, Wyatt stepped up. “How about I take the horses?”
She didn’t ask whether he had known they were coming—was this a setup, or had her parents just crashed the Mustang Ridge party? She didn’t dare ask, not right now. She just tossed her reins, grabbed Sam’s hand, and said, “Come on!”
There was no point in asking if he wanted to meet her parents when they were standing thirty feet away.
“Mom!” she said as they drew near, “Dad! I can’t believe you’re here.”
“They wouldn’t refund the ticket,” Bea Traveler said briskly, her eyes going to Sam. “Who is this?”
And that was it, Danny thought. Her own big reunion for the week. No giddy squeals, no happy tears, not even a Hi, sweetie, you look great. But that didn’t mean she had to play the same game, so she stepped up and hugged her mom. “I missed you.” She didn’t get much of a return clasp before she moved on to her dad. “This is such a nice surprise!”
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