“You’re right. The government can always print more.”
By the time they’d transferred the bricks and got the fire going, the pain in Rachel’s chin had subsided to a dull ache. Another check of Jake’s cuts showed they had crusted over nicely, although he’d probably need stitches to close them completely when they got out of the mine…which Jake calmly insisted they would.
He had no doubt that Marsh would show up before Taggart returned or their situation became extreme. How it could become much more extreme escaped Rachel, but she was more than willing to siphon off some of his unshakable confidence whenever the tunnel walls closed in on her and claustrophobia threatened.
Somehow, he managed to make the terrifying experience not only endurable, but almost—almost— enjoyable. The terror and tension of the past hour had eased considerably when they broke open the paper bricks to build a nest. It almost disappeared when they snuggled inside. Paper, she had to agreed, was a great insulator.
So was Jake. Wrapped in his arms, her back to his chest, her tush nestled on his thighs, Rachel laid her head against his shoulder. Shadows danced on the rock walls. The inky scent of newly printed bills rose around them, obscuring the less pleasant odors that lingered in the tunnel.
“I never realized our currency had so many practical purposes besides buying power,” she murmured, sniffing appreciatively. “Fuel. Comfy mattress. Room deodorizer. Too bad we can’t eat it.”
“The ink probably has some nutritional value.”
“Ugh! I don’t think so! Better be careful, though. New ink like this comes off on your clothes.”
The absurdity of her warning hit Rachel a moment later. If she rank ordered everything they had to worry about from one to ten, getting ink smudges on their clothing fell somewhere around minus twenty-two.
The laughter rumbling in Jake’s chest told her he’d assigned the matter the same level of concern. For that reason, she considered his suggestion that they remove their clothing with mock deliberation.
“I suppose that’s one way to protect them,” she agreed solemnly. “You go first.”
“Okay.”
Their paper nest rustled as he lifted her off his lap and redeposited her atop the crumpled bills.
“You’d better watch it,” she warned, grinning. “I might just let you play this game through.”
“It isn’t a game.” Calmly, Jake peeled off his jacket. “It’s a matter of survival.”
“Survival of the fittest?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of survival of the species.”
Good Lord! He was serious! Rachel was still trying to absorb the idea of stripping down and propagating the species when he reached for the zipper on her jeans.
“Jake, this is crazy!”
Dragging down the waistband of her panties, he dropped a kiss on her stomach. “I know.”
“We’re buried under a mountain, for Pete’s sake!”
“I know.”
His tongue found her belly button. Rachel’s breath hissed out. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she tugged his head up.
“We could be here for days, Henderson.”
His eyes gleamed. “If we’re lucky.”
She couldn’t help herself. Dissolving into helpless laughter, she wiggled down until his mouth was within reach of hers.
“This is definitely a first for me,” she got out between giggles. “I’ve never made love on a bed of fifty-dollar bills before.”
“We seem to be racking up a string of firsts,” he agreed, dropping a gentle kiss on her sore jaw. “One of these days, we’ve got to go for sheets, blankets and innersprings.”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
“No.” Less gently, he nipped her throat. “That’s one of the things I like best about you, Quinn. I’ve never heard you complain about anything.”
Rachel considered inquiring what he liked least, but decided this wasn’t the time to ask. His hands and tongue were too busy and the output from their little fire was too warm. The air in their private cave had definitely heated up enough for them to shed several nonessential layers of clothing.
“Careful,” she warned as he shimmied out of his bloodstained vest. “You don’t want to open those cuts.”
“The hell with the cuts. Come here.”
Tangling and trading kisses with Jake in the noisy, tickly nest provided the most incredible sensations. Straddling his lean, muscular flanks some moments later provided even more.
“I think you’ve toughened me up,” she told him breathlessly. “Ordinarily, all those hours on horseback and the ATV would have left me too sore to walk, much less… Oh!”
Gasping, she wiggled her hips to better accommodate the hand he’d slipped between their bodies.
“Funny,” he murmured. “You don’t feel so tough to me.”
“Not right there, I don’t!”
He knew exactly where to touch her, how hard to press, how gently to rub.
“Jake…”
The pleasure started too soon, too fast. Jerking up on her knees, Rachel broke the contact.
“Wait!” she panted. “I can’t believe this! One touch, and you’ve got me on the edge of the volcano.”
“Good.” A smile started in his eyes. “Because that, sweetheart, is where I plan to keep you.”
Rachel knew then that she loved him. Like her near climax of a moment ago, it had come on her without warning. She didn’t even know when it had happened. Sometime between sliding down into a rocky gulch on her butt and building a nest of fifty-dollar bills, obviously.
Not that it mattered when. All that mattered was that she couldn’t remember a time before Jake, couldn’t imagine a life without him. Deciding they’d talk about just who was going to keep whom where later, she bent at the waist and lost herself in his kiss.
Chapter 15
Jake stared up into the darkness. Rachel lay against him, sprawled in her usual boneless abandon, arms and legs and clothes tangled with his.
The fire had died. Not from lack of fuel, but because he hadn’t wanted to disturb her by feeding it. As long as she was asleep, there was no need to chase the fear from her eyes with the novelty of toasting her toes at a fire fueled by newly printed Federal Reserve notes.
Or with lighthearted lovemaking.
Teasing her into playfulness had taken just about everything Jake had. With every kiss, every touch, he ached at the knowledge that his carelessness had sealed her in what could be her tomb.
How in hell could he have been so damned stupid as to let Taggart get the drop on them! Jake had known the bastard was behind them, had sensed him the way a wild animal senses the hunter. He should have lagged behind Rachel, mounted a rear guard while they were in the mine. Instead, he’d worried that she’d stumble or plunge into a pit and, like a fool, had taken the point.
His gut twisted every time he thought of those moments when they faced Taggart. Jake hadn’t exaggerated when he’d told Rachel that Russ Taggart wouldn’t be able to run far enough or fast enough if—when!—they got out of here.
Jake would get her out. If he had to move those boulders with his bare hands, he’d…
The faint, distant sound jerked him from his grim thoughts. His head came up. The tendons in his neck corded. Every muscle in his body taut, he strained to hear. His first thought was water dripping onto stone. His second, that someone was tapping at the rocks.
Keeping his voice low and urgent, he whispered in the ear placed conveniently close to his mouth.
“Rachel.”
“Unngh.”
“Wake up, sweetheart.”
When he added an insistent prod, she lifted her head.
“Whatimeiz…”
He clapped a hand over her mouth. “Listen.”
Eyes wide and frightened, she listened. Her quick little pants dampened his palm. A moment later, he felt her nod. Slowly, he removed his hand.
“Someone or something is out there. I’d better go find
out who. Stay here and I’ll…”
She gave a soft growl. Jake got the message.
“Right. We’re a team. Can you find your clothes in the dark?”
She not only found them, she scrambled into them with a quiet efficiency that won his instant approval. Jake dragged her over for a swift kiss.
“That’s another thing I like about you, Quinn,” he murmured against her lips. “You don’t take a lot of time to get dressed.”
“Ha! One of the things I like best about you, Henderson, is that you don’t take a lot of time to get me undressed.”
He couldn’t believe he was grinning when he started down the tunnel.
The tapping grew more distinct with each step they took, but Rachel’s pulse was hammering so hard and fast she could barely tell whether the sounds she was hearing came from inside or outside of her head.
Her heart in her throat, she followed the dim path Jake painted on the floor of the tunnel with the flashlight. He was keeping the beam down and well shielded on the off-chance a thread of light might penetrate the debris blocking the entrance.
He was right to take the precautions, she saw with a leap of excitement that got all mixed up with dread and hope. There, high up in the pile, was a weak glimmer!
“Jake!” she whispered. “Look!”
“I see it.”
She forced out her worst fear. “Do you think Taggart might have come back?”
His soft reply didn’t reassure her. “If he found his damned container, I figure that’s a safe bet.”
Rachel figured it was, too. If Russ had found the pod, he would have destroyed whatever evidence could have led back to him. Now, his only worry would be making absolutely sure neither she nor Jake was still alive to counter whatever story he’d concocted to explain his absence and their deaths.
They had their answer several long, agonizing moments later. It came when the sound of a growl snaked through the rock wall to the taut, unmoving listeners. The growl was followed by the scrabble of boots on loose rocks and a startled exclamation.
“What the hell…!”
It was Taggart. Rachel bit back a groan, then jumped at the sound of a pop.
Pistol fire! He was shooting at someone or something! An enraged howl shrieked through the rocks. Stunned, Rachel identified the scream of a wounded animal.
“Sounds like a bear,” Jake said in her ear.
“Dear God!”
Two more shots popped off. The howls escalated into roars of rage and pain. Another shriek cut through the tumbled slabs of rock, this one unmistakably human.
She heard a thud, another agonized scream, more shots.
Rachel’s skin crawled. From the sound of it, Taggart was engaged in a life-and-death struggle with the animal. Probably the same one that had deposited the mess she’d stepped in earlier.
She’d never felt so helpless, so torn. Taggart had tried to kill her and Jake. Had devised a scheme that led to the death of four aircrew members. Yet Rachel wouldn’t wish what was now happening to him on anyone.
The screams on the other side of the rock intensified, so much so she couldn’t tell if they were made by man or beast. She stood rooted in place, sickened. Her paralyzed fingers locked on Jake’s arm.
“Dear God!”
Jake spun her around, held her face hard against his chest, as if that would shut out the awful screams. Nothing could shut out the death agony of one of the combatants. Taggart shrieked again, the cry twisting into a final, tortured curse.
Slowly, the howls diminished to savage snarls.
Nausea welled in Rachel’s throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, clung to Jake.
Finally, there was only a snuffling, grunting sound. Then that, too, died away.
“What was it?” she whispered, her voice muffled against Jake’s chest.
“I don’t know. A cougar, maybe. Or a bear.”
They didn’t find out for sure until several hundred thousand dollars later.
They retreated some distance down the tunnel, rekindled the fire, settled in to wait. Brick after brick went up in flames before a muffled curse had them on their feet and running.
“You think that’s Taggart?”
A voice came through the rocks muted and indistinct. “Do you think that’s Taggart?”
“What’s left of him, looks like,” was the laconic reply.
“Shad!”
Jake’s bellow bounced off the tunnel walls. Rachel added her shouts to the booming reverberations.
“Shad! We’re in here! Can you hear us?”
Boots thudded on rock. Marsh’s shout cut through the tumbled slabs.
“Jake! Is that you?”
“Yes! Rachel’s here with me.”
“Ho-ly Hell, boy!” Shad’s voice came through clearer, as if he’d stuck his face right up to a crack. “You two okay in there?”
“Aside from a few cuts and bruises, we’re fine.”
And the fact that they were trapped on the other side of several tons of rock. Rachel had to bite her lip from shouting out the obvious.
“Who’s with you?” Jake yelled.
“It’s just me and Marsh. Reece and Evan and Sam are up at the line shack with the team. When Buck Silverthorne told us Taggart had gone off on his own, we figured we’d better come up and warn you.”
They’d figured right.
“Guess we should have warned Taggart.”
Rachel could almost see Shad pushing his hat forward to scratch the back of his head.
“Poor bastard. Grizzly’s pet near about gutted him before the thing died.”
She couldn’t summon much sympathy for the “poor bastard” at this point. It would come when she and Jake got out.
Maybe.
Marsh pushed all thoughts of Taggart from her head.
“We’ll have to get help,” he called through the rocks. “All we’ve got with us is a rusty crowbar we found out in one of the mine sheds.”
Rachel sucked in a ragged breath. It would take them five or six hours to reach either the cabin or the lowlands. She could sit in the dark for another five or six hours. She wouldn’t like it, but she could do it as long as Jake was beside her.
“Let’s try something before you go,” Jake yelled to the others. “We can see your light at eleven o’clock high. We’ve got at least the beginnings of an opening on this side. What does it look like on your side?”
“Like ten tons of rock ready to roll.”
Jake swore low and long. There was a scrabble of boots on rock, then his brother shouted through the crack.
“I think I can climb up and poke around without bringing the whole shebang down on my head.”
“Be careful!”
The next half hour was the longest of Rachel’s life. She could hear Marsh attacking the boulders and debris, counted every chink of his crowbar. His muffled oaths drifted to her, along with Shad’s words of caution and encouragement.
Jake dug at the debris with his bare hands until he managed to extract a splintered piece of wood. That in hand, he climbed the piled boulders and scraped at the tiny opening with the makeshift pickax.
Rachel refused to retreat to a safe distance as ordered. Dodging the rock pieces Jake dislodged, she aimed the flashlight up to illuminate his work area. The beam was noticeably weaker, not even as strong as the glimmer of light from the other side. She was devising ways to construct a torch of fifty-dollar bills when Jake’s splinter of wood hit the wrong pressure point.
With an ominous rumble that stopped her heart, the boulders above him began to move.
“Jake!”
“Get back!”
“Oh, dear God!”
The sound was so familiar, so horrible. Like a nightmarish audio replay, the awful shriek of stone scraping against each other assaulted Rachel’s eardrums. She stumbled back, but not fast enough. The massive rocks bumped and heaved and started down.
Jake came with them. In a flying leap, he sailed over the tumbling boulders. His
shoulder smashed into Rachel’s, his arm caught her around the waist. Sheer momentum carried them both backward.
Jake slammed into the tunnel’s solid rock floor with a force that must have jarred every bone in his body, but kept rolling. Rachel ended up on her stomach, squashed flat under his weight.
The last rumble died. Dead silence thundered in her ears. She let out a shuddering breath. Her muscles went limp. Her toes touched a perpendicular wall of solid rock.
“Jake.”
“I’m okay, sweetheart.”
“Thank…God.”
“How about you?”
“I…can’t…breathe.”
With a savage oath, he rolled to his knees and patted down her hips, her legs, her ankles, searching for whatever had her pinned. When she finally dragged in enough air to tell him that it was his dive that had slammed every particle of breath from her body, he hauled her up. His savage kiss drove what little air she’d managed to suck into her lungs right out again.
“Glad to see you haven’t let a little thing like a cave-in slow you down, big brother.”
Marsh’s voice floated down. Whipping her head around, Rachel looked up and caught sight of an eye, a nose, a cheek, and half a grin.
Chapter 16
With a groan of unrestrained pleasure, Rachel slid down the sloping back of the huge, claw-footed bathtub until water lapped at her bruised chin.
Fragrant steam rose in clouds around her. Scented bubbles popped and fizzed just under her nose. Lauren had donated the Chanel No. 5 bath gel. Rachel was almost as grateful for the sinfully rich bubbles as she was for the towelettes Sydney had left in the now-pulverized ATV.
Resting her head against the high porcelain tub, she filled her nostrils with the heavenly scent. This was her second bath since departing the copper mine. She was sure it would take two or three more to totally eradicate the stink of rusted iron, decaying wood and printer’s ink that had seeped into her pores, not to mention the ink stains she’d acquired in various, embarrassing locations.
Twice in a Lifetime Page 15
