by Maggie Way
Sigmund bounded ahead and had leaped up, putting his paws on Emily’s shoulders. He licked her face and made distinctly damn-glad-to-see-you noises. The smile on Emily’s face probably could have powered the generators Gage heard running fifty paces away.
“Hey, buddy. Who’s a good doggy?” Emily cooed to Sig. “Get down, now. You have a job to do.”
Sig obeyed, dropping his front legs to the ground and retreating toward Gage. The dog took up a position next to him, ears up and nudging his hand for a petting.
Scratching his fingers behind Sig’s ears, he greeted Emily. “Thanks for arranging this.” He extended his right hand toward her companion. “Sherman. Good to see you. Thanks for meeting us.”
His hand was swallowed in Sherm’s big mitt. The man pumped his arm vigorously. “Just sorry it’s necessary. But I thank you for your service to our country. Glad you made it home in one piece.”
More like three-quarters of a piece, but Gage was certain Sherman wasn’t referring to his mental state. Gage nodded.
Emily took over, asserting herself without looking at anyone’s face. “I’ve explained to Sherman what we hope to accomplish here today. Gage,” she said, finally looking up to catch his eye. “I want you to relax. Sigmund has your back. We all have your back. We’ll go slow and stop the tour whenever you need. Okay?”
Gage’s pulse kicked up as Sherman unlocked the big padlock on the door and swung it open. A line of bare bulbs cast dim pools of light, reflecting off puddles of water on the floor. The stale smell of dusty, dark earth smacked him hard.
Breath stuttered in his lungs as a small blast of dust peppered his skin. Instantly, he was back in Iraq, a dense cloud swirling around him. He’d been standing in an entry room on the outside edge of the building, away from the brunt of the street-side explosion. Most of the building had collapsed toward the middle. While still in the hospital, the CO had shown him pictures of the deep crater caused by the blast and the pile of destruction that had buried Gage alive.
Gage’s vision narrowed on the lights glimmering through the dust, seeing not the mine entrance, but concrete tumbling inward.
Sweat broke out on his body, beading on his forehead, dripping down his back. His legs trembled, his knees softened. Every breath he took felt like he was sucking oxygen through water, not getting anywhere near what he needed to survive the moment. His chest heaved with the effort to pull air in.
Slowly, he became aware of the wet slurp on his hand. Sig’s whimper cut through the fog in his mind. Elle scooted in front of him, blocking his view. The heat of her hand on his face seeped in, and right behind it, the bracing solidity of Bill’s arm around him, preventing him from sagging to the ground. The support cut like a knife into a significant portion of his dread.
He shook his head, willing away the lingering physical manifestations of fear. “I can do this. I can fucking do this.” He firmed his knees and tightened his abs. Shooting a glance overhead, he took in the calming blue sky, the vibrant green of the aspens. A breeze stirred the leaves, rattling them, blowing the lingering dust away. He visualized the breeze scattering his apprehensions away along with the dusty air.
“Okay?” Elle laid her hand on his chest. The warmth of her palm knifed through the jitters and helped slow his throbbing pulse.
“Yeah, baby.” He lifted the corners of his mouth. “I’m good. But we’ll go slow, okay?”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you need, honey.”
When Sigmund bumped his thigh, Gage gripped the dog’s bristly fur. Sigmund didn’t complain. Willing his body to comply, Gage shoved one foot forward. Each step brought him closer to the entrance, the cave cut into the side of the mountain growing bigger in his field of vision. Each time he shuffled his legs, the path before him grew a little less intimidating.
After what seemed like an eternity of slow movement forward and panting breaths, Gage finally reached the doorway. Sigmund stood alert at his side. At Bill’s urging, Elle fell back behind him. Sherman and Emily waited a good twenty paces inside the mine.
“Gage, you need to give Sigmund a command. He’s not leaving you, but if you linger, he can get impatient. Help him do his job,” Emily instructed. For a change, she kept her eyes on his face. “You’re almost there. Sigmund and I know you can do this.”
Goddammit. If Emily could maintain eye contact with him, when he understood how uncomfortable it made her, he could cross a fucking threshold.
Gage sawed in a ragged breath, closed his eyes and lifted one foot. He snapped his fingers and commanded, “Let’s go, Sigmund.”
He might have lurched just a bit, but he managed to step into the mine. He took another step forward, and then another, until his determination trumped trepidation. His stride grew more confident. As soon as he drew even with Emily, he let a crooked laugh escape.
“Pretty fucking grand trick. I managed twenty yards. And it only took a gazillion minutes.”
“Nah, son. You managed it in million.” Sherm’s voice was rough with emotion, as if he didn’t like to see the struggle Gage had gone through to get this far.
Gage eyed the cage directly ahead of him. Flimsy chicken wire surrounded the platform that would carry him to the bowels of the Earth. “Yeah? Wait until you see how long it takes me to hop on that death trap.”
“Gage!”
He cast a glance over his shoulder at Elle. Her mouth was opened in a perfect O and her eyes were horrified. He winked at her, kind of surprised he was able to manage the small movement. “Hey, I was using humor to lighten the moment. Don’t get in a tizzy on me now.” He needed something to psych himself up to step foot in that cage.
Swallowing a huge lungful of air, he lifted his boot and took the first step.
Chapter Ten
Watching Gage battle through the entry to the abandoned mine had nearly suffocated Elle. She found her chest heaving right along with his. Despite the brisk breeze, she perspired as though attending a hot yoga class. Her stomach contorted painfully as she watched emotions racing over his face. Fear, resignation…tenacity showed up last. Gage resolutely moved forward toward the ramshackle elevator.
When she would have gone to him, Dad gripped her wrist and whispered in her ear. “We won’t be there tomorrow. Let’s just stand by. I’ve never seen anyone more determined to conquer their issues.” Pride swelled in Dad’s voice. “He’s got this, Elle.”
She had her doubts. No one else had been there for Gage’s nightmares, or the panic attacks that came out of left field. The obsessive running. In her darkest moments, when no one had been around, Elle could have imagined giving in to Gage’s suggestion to call off the wedding.
But now, standing by as he stepped through the door into the dimly lit anteroom, she was glad she hadn’t listened to those urges.
Sure, his fingers were clenched around Sigmund’s collar. And even if he managed this part there were no guarantees he’d slay the rest of his inhibitions.
But now, in the face of hitting those fears head-on, he’d cracked a joke.
It was a horrible joke, freaking gallows humor, but hearing it made her want to jump for joy. She was ready to shout from the treetops that her Gage was on the mend.
Emily encouraged Sigmund to lead Gage forward.
Sherman handed each of them a hard hat. “Sorry I don’t have one for the dog. But it looks like he comes with his own goggles.” He barked out a laugh, and Sigmund just plain barked.
Next, Sherm forced the accordion-style gate to one side and stepped onto the open-weave steel platform. He flipped a switch and a bright light beamed out from a panel on the ceiling of the elevator.
Sigmund trotted into the square enclosure after Emily. Gage moved slower, and paused at the opening. The hand he’d laid on the frame turned white around the knuckles. His chest rose and fell rapidly, until Sig nudged his thigh. One by one, he peeled his fingers from the linked chains and dropped his hand to the canine’s head.
While he scratched Sigmund’s scruff, Gage
looked at her over his shoulder. “You don’t have to come.”
She hurried to his side, unsure and a little hurt. “I won’t come if you don’t want me to. But you should know…wherever you go, I’m willing to follow.”
He touched his mouth to hers, a brief press…a gentle sip. A promise. His hand running down her arm sent shivers of need through her. He twined his fingers in hers and with a gentle tug, pulled her behind him as he stepped onto the elevator. The cage swayed and dipped a little under their weight. Enough to make Elle question why she wanted to descend into the Earth in what basically amounted to a thin metal grate suspended on a skimpy iron frame. Knowing he faced the rickety platform daily, she considered his fears justified. Beneath her feet irregularly spaced pools of light broke the pitch black of the shaft. She dragged her gaze to the ceiling and concentrated on the view overhead.
Her trepidation must have shown, because Sherman said, “Don’t worry, Ms. Sweeney. It’s perfectly safe. We run regular safety inspections, even though this mine is closed. Just checked it last week and it passed with flying colors.”
That might have made her feel better, until her dad stepped onto the platform and set it to rocking wildly. The urge to bolt off to the safety of stable ground, or puke her guts out, fought for supremacy. Her love for Gage triumphed over all other emotions. Doing this—taking the trip to the bottom of the shaft—would help him and give her a better understanding of what his life would be like once he went back to work. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never made the journey he bravely faced every time his work required. He’d never spoken of it, so she figured it didn’t bother him.
Behind her, the gate clanged into place. A lock clicked shut. Sigmund shoved his nose into her palm for a lick. Immediately, the pressure on her chest eased, as if incandescent lights had suddenly erased the weighty darkness beneath them. Her breath eased and her heart decelerated. Sigmund turned his attention and his tongue to the back of Gage’s wrist.
“Brace yourselves,” Sherman called out. He toggled a switch on the control panel.
The elevator jerked as it started its downward plunge. Gage braced his feet wide and trained his gaze on the ceiling. Dad stood immediately behind him, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder.
“One thousand feet,” Sherman sang out.
Sigmund whined, but continued to stand sentry next to Gage.
Emily squatted in front of the pet and offered him a treat. “Gage, Sigmund must be sensing your anxiety. Can you slow your breathing?”
Gage grunted and gave her an eye-roll. Which was better than flipping her off or telling her to go to hell. But he did comply. Elle counted through three agonizing seconds as Gage sucked in a deep breath. He exhaled just as slowly.
Elle joined the steady breathing club, matching her ins and outs to Gage’s. Even Dad practiced deep breathing. He murmured quietly into Gage’s ear, the words too soft to hear over the hum of the winch grinding away on top of the lift.
A minute later, as they passed a large yellow mark on the wall, Sherman announced the depth. “Fifteen hundred feet.”
“How deep does this go?” Gage had told her once that some mines in South Africa stretched almost as far into the Earth as Pike’s Peak climbed to the sky.
Sherman scratched the grizzled beard on his chin. “This operation was sunk near five thousand feet. This particular ramp only covers the first stage of it. We’ll hit bottom at two thousand.”
A thought struck her, worry that they’d get to the bottom, and not be able to get back to the surface. What if the elevator broke? Did anyone know they were heading down there? What if the lights in the mine didn’t turn on? They’d be almost completely in the dark. Elle bit her lip hard. Thick coppery blood coated her tongue. But she refused to put a voice to her fears. She was doing this for Gage. He seemed to be handling the downward slide of the cage with far more grace and comfort than she was.
Like her, the other occupants of the elevator remained silent. Except Sherm, who quietly whistled a lively tune Elle recognized as a song her father used to hum while working in the garage and smoking the cigars her mom had forbidden.
Dad started whistling along with Sherm.
“What is this song?” she asked.
Dad, Gage and Sherm all replied at the same time. “Coal Town Saturday Night.”
Each man flashed a grin at her as they struck up a peppy chorus about going out and cutting up on a weekend after slaving for the mining company all week long. Gage visibly relaxed as he tapped his hand…not a fist…against his thigh, keeping the tempo of the song.
The air was definitely chillier as they continued downward. Elle untied the jacket she’d secured around her waist, pulled the thick fabric over her shoulders, and zipped it up to the middle of her chest.
Gage tugged it a bit higher, then chucked her under the chin. “You’re doing great. For your first time to the shaft bottom.”
She laid her palm on the center of his chest. His heartbeat was slow and steady against her hand. “And here I was, thinking we were making this trip for you. Look at you all concerned about how I’m doing.”
Looking at Sigmund, Gage marveled. “You know, I think I’m good. Getting past the threshold was hard, but so far, heading down, I’m fine.” Wonder filled his voice.
Lights flashed intermittently as they continued below ground. At least the emergency lights in the branches of the mine stretching away from the elevator appeared to be working.
The platform lurched again as they landed on a raised stand at the bottom. “Touch down,” Sherman announced.
Before he shoved the gate open, Sherman reached atop her helmet and flipped the switch to turn her headlamp on. He did the same for Emily. Dad’s and Gage’s lamps flared to life.
Sherman nodded to Sigmund. “If you have a leash for the big guy there, better put it on. Wouldn’t want him running away from us down here. Lots of places to get lost.”
“Damn! I forgot it in the Forester,” Gage said.
With a tight smile, Emily produced a thin tether she hooked to Sig’s collar. She handed the lead to Gage.
Despite her own anxiety at being underground, pride and love filled Elle as she followed him from the cage. He wasn’t just being brave. He really was comfortable in his surroundings.
He and Sigmund climbed down the steps and at the bottom, Gage spun a slow three hundred and sixty degrees with Sigmund following. A satisfied grin illuminated his face.
“This isn’t bothering me nearly as bad as I thought it might. Almost feels like home.” He handed the lead to Elle. “I’m going to try walking down one of the stopes.”
“Stopes?” She wrapped Sig’s leash around her hand.
Gage pointed down a corridor hewn out of rock. “There.”
Sig whined as Gage moved away from them, making his way down the area he’d pointed out. She crouched next to the dog and wrapped an arm around his neck. Gage’s steps, confident at first, slowed as he moved deeper into the hollowed out space. He braced a hand on the wall and bent his head forward.
Emily spoke for the first time since they’d begun their version of Journey To The Center Of The Earth. “Elle, will you take Sigmund to Gage? I think he needs him.”
Elle bolted to her feet and led Sigmund toward Gage. “Honey?” she called as she approached. Her voice echoed off the rock ceiling, bouncing around them.
Gage jumped, spun around and pressed his back to the wall. He slid to a squat, his shirt catching on sharp rock. His eyes shifted wildly back and forth. Sigmund strained against the leash to get to his human.
Elle catapulted into his arms while Sigmund reared up on his hind legs and braced his front paws on Gage’s shoulder. He started licking Gage’s face, letting out short woofs. When the dog slobbered on Gage’s ear, whatever trance held her man finally released its grip.
Gage tightened his arms around her, his chest heaving. “I thought I could do it. I was so fucking comfortable, I was sure I was cured.” His brea
th wheezed in her ear.
“Gage, you are doing it. You haven’t bolted for the elevator. You haven’t cowered or tried to find somewhere to hide. You might not be cured, but you’re on the mend. I love you so much, honey. Right now, more than ever before.”
“You love a coward.”
“I love the bravest man in the world. You’re facing your fears and reclaiming your life. Jonas will see that and willingly put you and Sigmund to work.” She scratched her fingertips between the dog’s bunched-up shoulders. “Now, do you think we can get out of here? I’m trying to follow your amazing lead, but I’m a little creeped out.”
Gage’s laugh boomed against the rocks as he led her back to the elevator.
Chapter Eleven
Two days later, Elle’s legs thrashed against his in her sleep. After she’d nodded off, he found he couldn’t relax enough to join her. Thoughts of his sessions with Bill, the training with Emily, the revelation that he could spend time underground without turning into a sniveling sad-sack, rocketed through his brain.
He and Elle had had a celebratory drink with their parents at The Reading Room. It still amazed him that in the twelve months he’d been overseas, a speakeasy had opened in town. Elle had been so excited when she’d told him they could rent the joint for the reception. God, he didn’t want a huge party. He didn’t relish the idea of being the center of attention. Well-meaning family and friends might bring up the worst moments of his entire existence on what was supposed to be the happiest day of his life. At his lowest point, he’d tried like hell to find a way to veto the whole idea. Since he longed to keep a smile on Elle’s face, and the happy in her voice, he’d finally agreed.
When they’d arrived on Wednesday, her mom, Jillian had hugged him so hard his neck still twinged. Gage’s mom had wrapped her arms around his waist and whispered how proud and happy she was.
Before she and Dad left to return to the farm to tend the livestock for the night, they’d pulled him aside. They’d sang his praises and their pride until he was uncomfortable with their glowing words. Dad thumped him on the back, told him he was damn glad to have his best bud back, but being on the road to recovery didn’t mean he still couldn’t come out to help at the ranch. The back forty fences needed mending, after all.
