by Dana Marton
They held their breaths, Mo sheltering them from the falling debris with his great body. But that was all, just some earth and small rocks. Their level held.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said as soon as the tremors stopped.
Skipper led them, and they followed her, coughing up dust, sloshing through rising water. Must be raining up on top, on the surface. It didn’t look good. In fact, it didn’t look as if they were going to make it.
She squeezed her son’s hand. “Good job. I love you.”
Logan looked up to her. “I love you, too, Mom.”
She bit her lip as she turned to Mo. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Kenny. I’m sorry about everything.”
It needed to be said. She had never been as happy as when she heard Mo’s voice calling for her back there. “I know you’re mad at me, but I can explain—”
“I’m not mad at you.” He took her hand and held it. “Are you okay there, buddy? You’re not scared, are you?” he asked Logan.
“It’s like a video game, right?” Logan asked with a measure of uncertainty, but he held it together.
Skipper stuck to him like glue. That probably helped a lot.
“It’s exactly like that,” Mo reassured her son with full confidence. “And guess what? We’re definitely winning.”
“We are?”
“Do I know about video games or what?”
And then Logan gave a little smile, and Molly’s heart melted. Whether they were really winning or not, he took her son’s fear away and that was a big thing.
They slogged forward for what seemed an eternity, found other tunnels. Mo moved forward without hesitation each time. Now and then, he let Skipper guide them.
“How do you know which way to go?” Logan asked.
“I have a pretty good sense of direction. And so does your dog. If there’s fresh air coming in anywhere up ahead, she can smell it.”
Molly gave thanks for that. Maybe they did have a slim chance. If they could outrun the water.
“How many entrances to the mine?” Mo asked her.
“Half dozen, but other than the one we came through, the rest are sealed.”
“They can be unsealed. We have backup. If we can’t find a way up, they’ll come for us. Very likely most of the shafts are connected.”
Okay. That made her feel better.
He stopped when they reached air that wasn’t so filled with dust. It seemed the explosion hadn’t shaken this section. He pulled out his phone.
“No reception down here,” she told him.
“That’s fine. I’m activating an emergency beacon.”
“Will that work?”
“You bet. It’s new technology we just started testing. A new generation of the technology they use in black boxes in airplanes.”
That sounded encouraging. Authorities could find black boxes all the way on the bottom of the ocean after planes crashed. They should be able to find them here. A little more hope came to life inside her.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone,” Mo said to the both of them. “It’s still experimental and kind of a government secret.”
“Sure,” she promised.
While Logan said, “It’s like a spy video game,” looking wide-eyed and impressed.
Truth be told, she was no less excited about the gadget. But as they moved on, it occurred to her how strange it was that he would have something like that. Why would a policy-recommendation team test top technology such as this? Secret technology.
Not for the first time, she had the sneaky suspicion his team was more than what they seemed. Not a topic to bring up in front of Logan, obviously.
They’d been sloshing through water that was an inch or two deep, but suddenly it was reaching to midcalf, rising rapidly now. Either the tunnel slanted down or rain was coming down pretty hard above. She tightened her hold on Mo’s hand.
He looked back at her, then at the water and squeezed back as if saying It’s fine. He had noticed her apprehension. She should have known. He missed little.
He kept on moving forward, and she followed, instead of backing up to higher ground. She had decided she would trust him, and so she would. She would trust him with her life and with her son’s, because he’d earned her trust and because she was in love with him.
The admission shook her as hard as the explosion had.
But she was jarred out of her daze when his cell phone pinged.
“What’s that?” Logan asked as Skipper let out a woof.
“A sign that the rescue team is coming for us.” Mo looked at the screen. “From that direction.” He pointed straight ahead. “Might as well meet them halfway, if you can keep going.”
“Yep,” Logan said.
“We’re fine,” Molly added. The sooner they were above ground, the better.
But the going was slow over the uneven ground. Here and there they had to crawl over old rubble. Nearly an hour passed before they met the rescue detail, Ryder and Shep. By then, the water was up to their knees.
Ryder scooped up Logan.
Mo scooped up Molly.
And then the going got quite a bit faster. The men moved like a well-oiled machine.
They reached a shaft that led up, a rope hanging down, Jamie looking down on them from above. Ryder climbed easily with Logan on his back. Shep tossed a squirming Skipper across his shoulders and Skipper lay flat, if whining a little.
Mo put Molly down and turned his back to her. “Piggyback ride. Get on.”
She hesitated.
“We don’t have time for this,” he reminded her gently.
The water reached midthigh.
She set aside her pride and climbed on, her arms around his neck, but not too tight. He took them up without effort and didn’t put her down when they reached the top, just started running with her.
As the light of his flashlight wobbled in front of them, she could see why. Several support beams had fallen. The tunnel could collapse at any second.
And then it did, just as Mo dived through the opening with her, out into the night lit up by car beams all around them.
Rain lashed at her face as they lay side by side, gasping for air. Hands reached for them, Logan plowing into her before she had a chance to stand, knocking the both of them into the mud. Mo pulled them up.
Grace was there somewhere, asking how they were, what she could do to help. Skipper was licking Logan’s face.
“I got them,” Mo said, his voice rough.
Grace got in a hug anyway. “Friends don’t give friends gray hair,” she groused before she stepped away, her eyes brimming with relief.
Molly could barely breathe. She was covered in mud and bruises. So was her son. She hugged him tight as rain lashed them.
Mo put a hand on her shoulder. “Better get into the car. I’m going to take you over to the hospital.”
She nodded and followed him. She was fine, but she wanted to make sure Logan was all right. She sat in the back of the SUV with Logan, not wanting to let go of him.
“I’m sorry.” She apologized to Mo again once Logan fell asleep, exhausted from his ordeal.
Skipper snored on the seat next to them, her head on Logan’s lap, smelling like wet dog. She didn’t mind in the least. She could have hugged her. She’d saved their lives.
“You did what you thought was best in order to save your son.” His gaze cut to hers in the rearview mirror. “But don’t ever do it again. If you are in any kind of trouble, you call me first.”
“Yes.” She’d learned her lesson. “I wanted to trust you. I do trust you...” She bit her lip.
“What is it?”
“I’m a terrible decision maker. I’ve done so many stupid things over the
years.”
“I doubt that,” he said mildly.
“You barely know anything about me.”
“You have deep, dark secrets?” He sounded skeptical.
If only he knew... She squeezed her eyes together for a second. “My mother had affairs. A lot of them.”
“You’re not your mother.”
“My father drank. I blamed her. We had a big fight one day. I told her we’d all be better off without her. She left. Instead of getting better, my father drank himself to death.”
“Not your fault. He was the adult. You were the kid.”
Oh, but he didn’t know all of it. “Then I was...stupid with a guy a few years older than me. Got pregnant.” She drew a deep breath, about to tell him something she’d never told anyone. “Mikey Metzner is Logan’s father.”
He’d been the most eligible bachelor in town, son of the owner of the wire mill. Now in jail for trafficking. She winced. A long silence stretched between them before she continued.
“I thought he’d be happy with the baby. I thought we’d be getting married. First he told me he didn’t believe me that he was the father. Then he told me that if I repeated my dirty lies to anyone, he would make sure the baby was taken away from me. He has money to burn. He could hire every lawyer in the county.”
Even now, if he ever decided he wanted a son. Even with him in prison, he could petition that custody be given to his mother. Grandparents had rights. With all his money, he could take Logan away from her, a fear she’d lived with for the past eight years.
“You were what, a teenager?” Mo asked, his tone clipped.
“Seventeen.”
It sounded as if he was swearing under his breath, but she wasn’t sure.
She didn’t even want to know what he was thinking of her. That she was the village idiot, probably.
Which was so unfair. Because he was great, and she was completely in love with him.
Pitiful, really.
Epilogue
One week later
“If you want me to come get you, just give me a call,” Molly said into the phone, standing in the middle of her foyer, looking out at the front yard where her three dogs were wrestling.
“No way, Mom,” Logan said on the other end. “Aunt Grace needs me.”
Yes, she was sure Grace made her son feel wanted. It was nice of her to offer to have him over for the birth of a foal that was coming into the world tonight. Logan was a tough little kid, but the kidnapping and escape from the mine had rattled him. He needed some new happy memories to push the bad ones away.
He’d been sticking to her like glue since the mine incident, even missed a day or two of school. And she’d been sticking to him, truth be told, not wanting to let him out of her sight. But she had to.
Even if she would be lonely tonight.
Or not, she thought as she saw Mo’s SUV pull up her driveway. Her heart leaped.
“All right. Be very gentle and do whatever Grace tells you,” she told Logan.
“Okay, Mom.”
“I love you bunches.”
“I love you, too.”
Even if he thought he was too old to hold hands, he still thought saying I love you was okay. That was something. She was determined to enjoy what she could get before he reached the surly teenage years.
She hung up then went to let Mo in. She’d been locking her doors, a newfound habit.
They hadn’t seen each other since the rescue. The team was working around the clock to track down a new clue Kenny provided them with, although Mo wouldn’t tell her what it was.
He had asked whether Dylan had a friend named Coyote, but he wouldn’t tell her who Coyote was, either. If her brother had known anyone like that, she knew nothing about it. Still, he did mention progress, which was nice to hear. She had a feeling his team was working on something big and it had nothing to do with policy recommendations.
“Hi.” Mo came through the door, looking handsome and smelling like soap, probably fresh out of the shower.
The dogs were jumping all over him. He was handing out squeaky toys left and right. “I got some mighty big bones, too, in the car. Skipper gets double.”
She’d missed him. Stupid. He was probably only here to read her the riot act over her stunt with Kenny. He’d said he’d understood, but then he hadn’t come out to the ranch since.
She’d broken his trust. Of course, he was about to break her heart. She’d fallen for him and he would be leaving for the next step in his career as soon as his project here was finished.
She tried not to show how much the thought of that killed her. “How is work?” she asked as the dogs ran off with their toys.
“We’re moving forward. Not as fast as we’d like, but it’s something.” He reached out and took her hand, sending her temperature up a notch.
It was ridiculous that all he had to do was touch her to make her go weak in the knees. He meant nothing by it. He’d seen her at her worst. He couldn’t possibly want her.
So they’d had great sex. He’d probably had that with a lot of women. He probably wasn’t dreaming of her every night, as she was dreaming of him.
“Sweet tea?” she asked by way of a distraction.
“Later,” he said and kissed her.
Thank God was all she could think.
He tasted like prickly pear jelly.
He pulled away too soon. “I’m sorry I haven’t come sooner. I missed you.” He glanced toward the stairs. “Where’s Logan?”
“Spending the night with Grace.”
The grin that spread across his face was downright devilish. It sent her heart racing.
He dipped his head and this time kissed her deeper, claiming her. A blissful eternity passed before he pulled away again, with a satisfied look, and reached into his back pocket, pulledout an envelope and handed it to her. “A gift for you.”
What? All she could think about was that kiss. She tore into the envelope impatiently then unfolded the papers, thumbed through them, stunned, her throat tightening.
Termination of parental rights. Signed by Mikey Metzner.
Mikey gave up his parental rights to Logan, forever and irrevocably. Logan was hers, only hers, and nobody could ever take her son away from her.
Moisture flooded her eyes. “How did you do this?”
“Offered him a nicer prison than the one where he was headed.”
She flew into Mo’s arms, and he gathered her against him, claimed her lips all over again. He explored her mouth, her face framed by his large hands, then kissed her eyes, planted more kisses down the line of her nose. He nudged her ear and nibbled his way down her neck, too.
When he backed her toward the kitchen counter, heat pooled at the V of her thighs. And she cringed.
“What is it?” he asked immediately.
She hung her head. “I’m embarrassed.”
A puzzled look came over his face.
“I’m just like people say I am. Wanton and out of control.” Her voice weakened as she admitted, “I’ve thought about this.”
“And?”
“And I wanted it,” she whispered.
He looked as pleased as peaches.
She swatted at his wide shoulder. “It’s not normal. In the kitchen!”
“So you thought about the two of us? More than once?” He was watching her closely.
She gave a sheepish nod. “I’m a mother. I’m not supposed to think about naked men.”
“How do you think people get the sec
ond and third kid?” His gaze searched her face. “So because of a few idiots who couldn’t mind their own business, you locked your sensuality away.”
It sounded kind of silly when he said it. Yet... “I’m completely out of control. I thought about you a lot. In worse places than the kitchen.”
His eyes darkened with heat. “Go on. You thought about us where?”
She couldn’t look at him. “Under the stars. Who does that? Maybe teenagers.”
“The woman I love, that’s who,” he said and left her speechless. “Does that four-wheeler out in the garage have gas in it?”
“Sure.”
He lifted her off the counter and took her hand. “Where are the keys?”
“What?” She felt the blood run out her face. Then it returned in a rush. And her body was suddenly tingling all over.
He didn’t leave her time to hesitate, but drew her after him. He glanced at the keys by the back door, grabbed the right one.
They were in the middle of the fields by the time she half recovered, hardly able to believe that this was happening. He drove as if he was in a hurry. She had her arms tightly around his body, as much to hang on as because she liked the feel of him in her arms.
He finally stopped. They’d reached a high spot from where she could see her rolling fields in the moonlight, the stars bright above.
He shut down the engine then did some super move so he ended up with his back to the dashboard and her straddling him. She could feel his hardness through his jeans.
“You can’t be serious.”
But he did look serious. Very. “I want you.”
She nodded weakly.
“I love you.”
She had a hard time accepting that. “How do you know? It’s too soon.”
“When you know something is right, you don’t have to think about it too much.”
And she kind of understood what he was talking about, because she felt the same way, as if Mo was right for her, just right, perfect.
But she wasn’t perfect. Never had been.
Getting pregnant as a teenager was the least of it. She’d done worse things than that, much worse. She bit her lower lip. “I broke up my parents’ marriage. I’m responsible for my father’s death.”
