At the same time, Rhone didn’t know which was worse—feeling his way through pitch blackness or having just enough light to show how close the walls were. Either way reminded him of his imprisonment.
His face and neck already drenched, he felt rivulets of sweat trail in a steady stream over his back and chest, even though the air in the mine was cool and damp.
Wave after wave of nausea swept through him, each worse than the one before. He gulped huge amounts of air, no longer noticing the strong musty scent, and exhaled slowly. To his disgust and frustration, twice he had to stop, squatting down to put his head between his knees. Willing the illness to pass, the dizziness to subside, he forced himself to concentrate on Shannen and Nicholas.
Rhone lost all perception of time. It felt like hours had passed but a quick glance at his watch revealed it’d only been twenty—
Something—a noise—interrupted his thoughts.
Rhone cocked his head to listen. There it was again. A whimpering sound. Though distant and weak, it was unmistakable.
“Nicholas?” Rhone called out. Words of comfort formed on Rhone’s tongue, but he didn’t say them.
The whimpering stopped. There was no sound at all. In a flash, Rhone realized Nicky could well be frightened of a male voice, or even of Rhone, especially if Norton’s treatment had been rough.
Damn. A complication Rhone hadn’t thought of...
Because he didn’t know what else to do and because he hoped it would help calm Nicky’s fears, Rhone started talking, discovering that doing so also helped take his mind off his own discomforts.
Rounding a bend, the walls narrowed more. The beam of light startled a small colony of bats. Rhone flipped one away from his head instinctively. When another touched him, he turned off the light. He tried to stand still until the bats quieted, but dizziness momentarily had him swaying. His injured side brushed against the wall. He groaned aloud hearing, before he felt, the rotted timber start to crumble, giving way.
No longer caring about the bats and their plight, Rhone flipped the light on and, quickly as he dared, moved forward to avoid getting hit.
A safe distance away, Rhone had to wait for the dust to settle before he could assess the damage. He uttered a curse. Not only was the path he’d just taken obstructed—so was three—quarters of the one that lay ahead of him. Somehow he managed to ignore the realization he was trapped. Getting to his son and getting him to safety was priority. He had no idea how much of the tunnel ahead of him had caved in. Knowing it could fall like neatly stacked dominoes was no reassurance.
Talk, Rhone coached himself. Holding the claustrophobia at bay, he refused to accept the possibility the cave-in was more than localized. Keeping his voice calm, rhythmic, he moved the debris aside with care, not wanting to encourage more collapse.
With the flashlight positioned beside him, he frantically dug at the pile of rock.
Finally he breathed a sigh of relief.
Able to climb over the rubble, he grabbed the cylinder of light and moved forward. How much farther? Rhone wondered. “Nicholas, everything will be okay. Mommy is waiting for us.”
No response.
He wanted to run ahead but safety forced him to walk.
When he spoke again, he had to force the words around the knot in his throat. “You don’t know me yet, Nicholas, but you will.”
More silence.
“Don’t hate me for not being here. I didn’t know, or I would have been.”
Rhone rounded a corner. And froze in his tracks.
Nicky.
Of late, he’d dreamed of this moment on countless occasions, and still he was unprepared for the sight that greeted him.
A playpen sat in a small area off to the side of the tunnel. A sliver of light filtered through cracks in the rock wall, weakly illuminating the room.
Rhone’s heart performed somersaults.
Nicky stood, childish hands gripped on the upper edge of the playpen. A track of tears laced through the dirt on his face. His lower lip quivered. And he began to whimper.
Understanding his son’s hesitancy, Rhone stepped forward slowly, not wanting to startle the boy anymore. He paused when Nicholas drew back, Rhone’s expression mirroring his son’s confusion. What now?
Glancing around them, Rhone scowled and quickly hid his reaction to the arsenal Norton had stashed against one wall. Undoubtedly, he’d planned to kill them all. He’d only been waiting to do it when Rhone, Shannen and Nicholas were together. Rhone swallowed a vile curse. So much for thinking Norton had had a strand of decency. The man hadn’t begun to know the meaning of the word.
Rhone turned his back to the weaponry that represented the control and violence that he’d fought so hard against. The sight of his child suddenly, sharply, brought Rhone’s life into focus. He was no longer interested in continuing the fight. He’d done his share and he’d done his best. It was time to pass the torch to someone else, time to move on.
Time to bring his family together.
He looked down at the miniature reflection of himself and shrugged helplessly. Knowing he couldn’t delay any longer, that Shannen was outside, consumed with worry, Rhone reached for Nicky, pretending the wound didn’t hurt, and trying not to take it personally when his son pushed away. “Be patient with me,” Rhone encouraged with soft tones. “I’m new to this daddy business.”
Nicholas squirmed, twisting about to closer inspect the stranger that held him. After a while, surprising Rhone, tiny fingers began exploring his face with hesitant curiosity.
Rhone closed his eyes on emotions so intense—a sweet pain like none other he’d ever experienced.
With the pad of his thumb, Rhone lightly wiped the moisture from Nicky’s tear-swollen eyes.
Holding Nicholas close, Rhone reentered the dark corridor. He noticed the beam of light was steadier. Come to think of it, he was more aware of the warmth of the small body cradled against his chest than he was of the cold and damp tunnel. Rhone was more focused on the coming reunion outside than he was of the close quarters. Gone was the nausea. Gone was the tension. And he knew he wore a goofy smile. Meeting his son, holding him, feeling him, meant more than words could possibly describe, and that was all he could think about.
Until they reached the solid wall of crumbled rock that blocked their path to freedom. And Shannen.
Surveying their dilemma, Rhone acknowledged they were trapped and automatically braced himself for the all-too-familiar reaction.
It never came.
Granted, he wasn’t thrilled with the situation. Admitting the truth to himself, he was aware his breathing and pulse rates had increased—probably always would in close areas, but the milestone was in the fact he could somewhat control his response. Rhone felt like laughing out loud. He was no longer debilitated, no longer a slave to the master of dark confinement.
Setting Nicky down, Rhone dug at the loose rock with bare hands. Working from the top, rock and dirt cascaded to the ground, the dust choking them both.
Rhone resorted to using an unloaded rifle from Norton’s stash to dig with, progress noted by the growing pile of debris at Rhone’s feet. He paused to take a breath. When he did, he heard someone digging from the other side. He also heard voices—one he recognized.
“We’ll be out of here soon, Nicky, if your future godfather has anything to do with it. You’ll like Doug,” Rhone went on to explain, aware Nicholas didn’t have a clue as to what Rhone was saying.
Less than an hour later, both men broke through the dense clutter of rock and timber, meeting in the middle, a narrow path cleared over the top.
Rhone grinned at his friend. “About time you got here. What took you so long?”
“Ever tried to find a needle in a haystack?” At Rhone’s grimace, Doug continued, “Shannen shot a flare that got our attention. She’s a fine soldier, Rhone. She can cover my back anytime.”
Rhone narrowed his eyes, sending his friend a mock glare of warning. “The only back she’s co
vering will be mine.”
“About time.” Doug grinned. “What took you so long?”
Knowing Doug didn’t expect an answer, Rhone pushed and shoved aside a boulder and chunks of wood, finally gaining enough room for him and Nicky to crawl out.
“I’m sending Nicky through first.”
This time, when Rhone reached for him, Nicky raised his arms rather than pulling back. A tremor of joy jolted through Rhone.
When Nicky was safely in Doug’s embrace, Rhone followed, crawling on his belly.
The first thing he noticed when he reached the other side was the scent of fresh air that drifted from the entrance around the bend. He thought it had never smelled so good.
“So,” Doug said, handing Nicholas to Rhone, “this is what you looked like as a youngster.”
Rhone glanced down and was immediately rewarded with a smile that sent his heart leaping with pure pride. “Almost.”
“Where’s the difference?” Doug’s tone was disbelieving as he led the way out of the cavern.
“Nicholas is going to grow up with parents who love him, who’ll encourage him to be himself, who’ll pick him up and dust him off when he falls.” Rhone’s voice grew husky as they exited.
Blinking in the light of early evening, his eyes settled on the love of his life, the mother of his son as she stood where he’d left her to wait. “Nicky will have parents who’ll always be there to support him,” Rhone went on, “no matter what.”
Shannen clasped her hands together, bringing her fingertips up to cover her lips, tears streaming unheeded.
“Maa-Maa!” Nicholas shouted with excitement and squirmed with determination to be set free.
When only a couple feet of fairly even ground separated them, Rhone stood Nicky on his feet. The reunion between mother and son followed the script of Rhone’s dreams. Gathering each other close, hugs, tears and kisses said it all. Rhone felt the warmth of his own tears as he stood apart and watched.
Leaning against the tree for support, Shannen shifted Nicholas onto her hip with practiced ease. Meeting her husband’s gaze, she undoubtedly saw the raw need he made no attempt to hide. She extended her other arm to him, her eyes communicating volumes.
In the span of a heartbeat, Rhone was at her side, injury forgotten in the pleasure of gathering his wife and son close.
“I thought I lost you, Rhone. I thought I’d lost you both.”
“Shh, it’s all right now, sweetheart. Everything is going to be fine.”
Shannen drew back, her hand wiping the moisture from his cheek.
If an eagle could describe what it felt like to soar through a cloudless sky, skim the tops of majestic peaks, Rhone was certain it could feel no different than the way he felt at this moment. For the first time in his life, he knew peace of mind. And freedom.
“Is it? Are we?” Shannen glanced at Nicholas, including him in her appeal to Rhone.
Two sets of eyes turned expectantly to his. As though he’d been doing it forever, as though Nicky were accustomed to it, Rhone took his son, settling him against his chest, relieving Shannen of her beloved burden.
When her arms were free, she wrapped them around Rhone’s waist. In the hug she gave him, he felt strength and determination as fierce as his own. He dropped a kiss, first on Nicky’s forehead, then Shannen’s. She turned her face up to his. Rhone needed no encouragement as he lowered his head, his lips hungrily seeking hers.
Urgency canceled gentleness. Need for need, ache for ache, they gave to one another.
Promise for promise, they took with greedy abandon. The answer to their future was no longer in question, each knowing eternal fulfillment lay on the horizon of a love born to endure.
Breathless, they peppered kisses over one another’s faces, laughing when Nicholas mimicked them.
“Shannen, there’s something we need to clear up.”
Instantly her expression sobered.
“I told you once I’d never forgive you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily.
“I was wrong, Shannen. Wrong to blame you. Wrong to want to punish you.”
“Oh, Rhone.”
“Say you’ll forgive me.”
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Then you’ll be my wife again? Share my life?”
He held his breath, nothing he had ever encountered prepared him for the tension of waiting for her answer.
“There’s one more thing we need to discuss.”
Rhone frowned, his insides becoming a churning mass of panic. What if, after all this, she refused him?
“I know I’ve said it before, but there can be no more secrets between us, Rhone. Ever. Everything I am, everything that I can be, I want to share with you. Doing so, for me, completes the circle of our love. I’m not asking you to share anything you’re uncomfortable with. And I’m not asking for what’s in the depths of your heart and soul. I already know I have your love. What I am asking for is your explicit trust in me—in us. Furthermore, I won’t hold you back from pursuing your career. I fully understand now what drives you. I love you and I want to be together, to be a family. That’s all I need.”
With exquisite gentleness, Rhone kissed her. He swallowed her moan, and she his, as they released lingering fears and doubts.
He drew back, needing to watch her expression as he spoke. “Trusting you was never an issue with me. Apparently, I went overboard in my attempts to protect you, giving you the impression I didn’t trust you. Still, in spite of my efforts, life-threatening danger landed on your doorstep. A chance I will never allow to happen again.
“I love you, Shannen. You are my heart and soul. You are the other half of me that makes me complete. There is nothing, nothing I don’t want to share with you. We already have the foundation of a good marriage. Thank God it was stronger than either of us believed. Building on it with shared hopes and goals that will take a lifetime to fulfill is, for me, a dream come true.”
Doug cleared his throat as he approached. “Speaking of dreams, I wouldn’t mind having a few in the comforts of my own bed tonight, and you two need to see Dr. Peterson.” He looked at Rhone. “We got Norton’s informant. Couple guys from the Rocky Mountain field office hunted him down.”
Rhone’s breath whooshed out. It was over. Finally over.
Doug’s smile was rimmed with understanding.
“If you two have had enough fun and frivolity, what say we move off this mountain before nightfall?” He bent, lifting Shannen.
“Doug,” she said, her glance holding Rhone’s, “how do you feel about being Nicky’s godfather?”
Beside them, carrying their son toward the waiting chopper, Rhone laughed out loud. “Learning to read minds?”
Shannen shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
He sent her a mock glare. “I’ll have to remember that.”
She mirrored his expression. “See that you do.”
Epilogue
“You look...”
Rhone trailed off. Their eyes, meeting in the mirror, locked. She arched a brow, waiting. Unconsciously, she drew in her breath and held it. Even after all this time, his opinion still meant so much.
He took a step closer to her, the snowy white of his shirt bright next to the contrast of his tan. Even in reflection, she noticed that the grooves around his eyes no longer seemed pronounced and the haunted look had disappeared from his face. The time they’d spent together in Florida in a small beach house donated by a now-defunct drug dealer, had made all the difference in the world.
The three of them had spent more than a month together, without any daily intrusions, rediscovering and deepening their love.
Then, months later, Rhone had been there to hold her hand during the long, torturous hours of labor. He’d been there to give Jessica the very first hug of her life.
When Rhone placed the blanket-wrapped infant in her arms, Shannen had seen the sheen of tears coveri
ng his eyes. And in that moment, beyond any doubt, she’d known everything would be fine between them.
Rhone had faced his demons.
And walked away the victor.
Now Shannen placed the brush on the dresser top, reaching her hand over her shoulder. Rhone took it, then exerted just enough pressure to turn her.
Her breaths doubled.
The mirror hadn’t properly shown the range of emotions now laid bare in his eyes.
“Stunning,” he finished, tilting her head back for his kiss.
“But I just had a baby,” she protested when she could finally speak again.
“Doesn’t show,” he said, smoothing a hand down her stomach. “How much longer did the doctor say we have to wait?”
“Six weeks is up today.” She smiled.
“God, I was hoping my math hadn’t been off.”
An ear-piercing scream split the sensual tension.
He groaned. “Timing is everything.”
“And Jessica’s is better than most.”
“I’ll go,” he said. “Then I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Don’t forget the diaper bag this time.”
“Never again,” he vowed. Rhone dropped another quick kiss on her forehead.
“Baby cry,” Nicholas said, barging into the room.
“Thanks, honey,” Shannen said. “Daddy’s going to get her.”
With a look of promise commingling with hunger, Rhone responded to the imperial summons.
Shannen scooped the wiggling Nicholas and Bear into her arms.
Nine months ago, she’d been forced to stitch together the ragtag stuffed animal. It had hardly been out of Nicky’s hands since. Shannen sat him on the dresser, then ran a comb through his hair for the third time that morning. “Where are your shoes and socks?”
He shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Suits don’t look good without shoes and socks.” She adjusted the navy tie knotted at his neck.
“Jessy not.”
“She’s barely six weeks old. Besides, she has satin shoes that match her christening gown.”
All I Need Page 21
