She ducked behind a rock as the rifle fired. Not at Jed, but at her. The bullet pinged off the rock above her head, and a few shards of chipped shale came raining down. Her rented horse immediately bucked and shied, jerking the reins from her hand and bolting for town, flying past Jed and his finer steed.
From his saddle, still riding at a breakneck pace toward her, Jed returned fire. Hannah covered her head and cowered behind Wishing Rock.
It was a setup. Someone had lured her out in order to shoot her! That was, no doubt, the real killer out there. She came up on her knees and peeked through a crack in the rocks, hoping for a glimpse of the shooter. Jed’s return fire kept him low, so she could see nothing.
This was proof that Baxter was innocent! Why else would someone try to stop her from defending him?
Jed’s horse climbed the small incline to her sheltered position, and he smoothly dismounted. “Are you all right?”
She nodded as he knelt beside her and took aim through the crack in the rock.
“Fool woman,” he muttered as he fired at the man who had ambushed her.
She ignored his insult. How could she argue with him now? Later, though...
“How did you know where I was?”
“I read the note,” he said as he quickly and smoothly lowered the lever, brought it up with a snap, and fired again.
The working of the weapon was expertly carried out by gifted hands, every move crisp and precise.
Hannah admired the process, for a very short moment, and then dismissed her inappropriate admiration. “You went into my room?” she asked, incensed at the invasion of her privacy.
A bullet bounced off the rock behind her, sending shards of rocks and pebbles pinging to the ground. Jed cursed, low but quite succinctly.
“Come on.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her back and around a corner. “Wait here,” he said, shoving her through a small opening into a very dark cave.
She remembered what he’d said the night they’d spent out here, about the deep darkness and the possibility of getting lost. And hadn’t he mentioned bobcats and coyotes that day? She couldn’t possibly go in there. Another bullet pinging off the rock wall changed her mind.
Jed sheltered her from the front. Behind her there was only darkness.
He cursed beneath his breath as he reloaded. “There are two shooters,” he said gruffly. “And one of them’s moving to the side.”
A bullet hit the wall of rock above their heads, and pebbles came raining down. Jed pushed her a bit further into the cave. More bullets, a barrage of them, found the same target, and before she knew what was happening larger rocks began to fall from above, too. A few at first, then a waterfall of rocks, small and large.
When the big boulder rolled down, Jed shoved her back. The mouth of the cave fell inward, crumbling and filling the opening, cutting off the soft rays of sundown. Rocks fell all around them, and Jed pulled her roughly back and away from the avalanche. In a matter of seconds it was over, but for the ping of the occasional small rock falling into place. And she and Jed were left in complete darkness.
* * *
“Are you all right?” Jed asked as he laid his hand against the place on his head where a falling rock had glanced off. He could already feel a small lump, but there was no bleeding.
“I’m fine,” Hannah said, sounding absurdly calm. “What about you?”
“Fine,” he grumbled.
The cave was inky black, so dark he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face, much less Hannah.
“How do we get out of here?” she asked.
He shook his head and closed his eyes. “I don’t know that we do.”
“What?” she asked, her voice crisp and cool as the air in the cave. “You pulled me into this hole in the rock and you don’t know a way out?”
He took a deep, calming breath. Arguing with her now wouldn’t accomplish anything. Except maybe to make him feel better. “There probably is a way out, but I don’t know that we can find it until the sun comes up. We can make our way back, and wait for light.”
“Probably,” she said softly.
“Probably.”
He heard Hannah breathing slowly, deeply, as if trying to calm herself. “Well, your friends will come to check on us if you’re not back soon, right?” she asked. “They’ll see what happened and dig us out.”
Jed groaned out loud. “I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”
“Why not?” she snapped.
“Because I was in a hurry to save your ungrateful ass,” he shouted. His voice was too loud in the darkness. A few pebbles were dislodged and rained around them.
“There’s no need to bellow,” she said softly. “And I am not ungrateful.”
These caves were intricate, he’d heard. Some routes would lead them down, deeper into the ground. Others would lead them back and up, perhaps to an opening higher in the rock formation. The problem was, he couldn’t see a damn thing.
He carefully lifted his rifle and placed it into the leather harness that hung at his back. Hands free, he reached into his pocket for the tin he always carried there. “I’m going to strike a match,” he warned, “so we can get a feel for where we are.”
He opened the tin and pulled out one match, feeling with the tips of his fingers to determine just how many he had. Not many. He struck the match against the wall of the cave and it flared to life.
Before checking out the cave, he looked Hannah over, just to prove to himself that she was all right. She looked disheveled and dusty, but unhurt.
Her eyes met his bravely.
“We’ll be all right,” he assured her.
Behind Hannah, the cave grew wider and taller. In the dim light of the single match, he saw three tunnels off the back of the underground chamber. Three tunnels, three choices. He had no idea if any one of them would lead to another exit.
The match burned down to his fingers and he shook it out.
“This is what we’re going to do,” he said, his voice calm but stern, leaving no room for argument. As if that would make a difference to Hannah. “You will hold on to my coat, and we’ll move deeper into the cave. No matter what happens, don’t let go of me. Got it?”
“Yes,” she said.
“There’s no exit here, so waiting would be foolish. We want to move back and up. When the sun rises, if we’re in the vicinity of an opening we’ll see some light.”
“That makes perfect sense,” she said, no sign of panic in her voice.
He pocketed the tin of matches and patted the tin to make sure it was deeply seated. They couldn’t afford to lose their only source of light. He’d already decided to take the tunnel to the far left, so he placed the palm of his left hand against the cave wall to get his bearings. Without being told, Hannah closed the distance between them and, after reaching out blindly and finding his shoulder, raked her hand down and grabbed his coat, there near the waist. Her hold was secure, but she didn’t tug against him.
Taking small, careful steps, he made his way around the cave to the tunnel opening. Hannah was right behind him, holding on and breathing against his back. The only noise was the sound of their breathing and their footsteps on the stone floor.
Finally, his hand slipped around the corner of the tunnel he had chosen. He hated to use another match so soon, but they couldn’t walk into this tunnel without knowing what awaited them.
He took a match from his pocket and struck it on the stone wall. It flared and illuminated the tunnel he had chosen. The path led slightly up, then narrowed into a space too small for Fiona to crawl through.
“Shit,” he muttered, moving quickly to the next tunnel before the match burned down. This one widened, but led unerringly downward. The third and last tunnel, which they reached as the match was about to die out, was wide and even, and seemed to slope upward. Just a little. The flame burned his fingertips before he shook it out.
“This is it,” he said, trying to sound confident.
�
�Are you sure this route will lead us out?” Hannah asked.
“Nope,” he answered as he stepped into the tunnel. He’d taken several steps, one hand against the wall to guide him, when he spoke again. “Didn’t I specifically tell you to stay out of trouble today?”
Hannah tugged gently on his coat. “I didn’t know someone was going to send me a note and ask that I meet them, now did I?”
“That’s a woman’s reasoning for you,” Jed muttered. It was hard to tell, but it seemed the trail was heading up.
“That was the real murderer shooting at us, you know,” she said reasonably. “Do you believe me now? That Baxter is innocent?”
“I figure that could’ve been anyone you’ve met and badgered since your arrival,” he countered sourly.
“You just can’t admit that you’re wrong,” she said in a despairingly weary voice. “How like a man,” she added softly.
They’d walked in silence for a short distance before Jed stopped. He had to know where he was going, and he couldn’t see a damn thing. He took another match from his pocket and struck it. The path before them moved fairly straight ahead, meaning they were moving deeper and deeper into the rock and no closer to the surface.
He glanced over his shoulder to Hannah, who was, for all her serenity, pale and a little shaky. With her cane in one hand and the other hand clutching at his jacket, her red hair falling in disarray around her face, her fancy cloak covered in dust, she still looked like a lady. A lady with a quick temper and a mouth to match maybe, but... he lowered his gaze.
“Hannah, darlin’, do you have your flask with you today?”
She turned up her nose, just before the match burned to his fingers and he had to shake it out. “I don’t think it will do either of us any good to get tipsy while we’re lost in this cave. We need our wits about us.”
He ignored her prim censure. “Are you wearing anything made of linen?”
She was silent.
“Linen, Hannah. A petticoat?”
“My petticoat is made of silk,” she said frostily.
“What about your drawers?”
He heard her disgusted sigh. “This is a new low, even for you, Mr. Rourke.”
“Hannah,” he said softly, “take off your drawers and give them to me.”
“I will not,” she said sternly.
“And hand over the flask and the cane.”
“Have you lost your mind?” she snapped.
“May be,” Jed muttered. “May be.”
His voice came out of the darkness. “I hate to ask, but I’m not wearing anything that will burn.”
Burn. He was beginning to make sense. Hannah tapped the cane lightly against the wall, to orient herself and Jed. Without being prodded, he gently took the cane from her grasp. With care, she lifted her skirt and removed the flask. Using the same method, she tapped it against the wall. Jed took it, his fingers barely brushing over hers.
“You wouldn’t leave me here, would you?” she asked as she lifted her skirt and untied the tapes at her waist. In this complete darkness, she didn’t have to worry about Jed seeing anything, unless he decided to waste one of his matches to get a view of her with her skirt bunched around her waist. She worked quickly, just in case. Tapes untied, her drawers dropped easily to the ground.
“Of course not,” Jed answered.
It was too dark in here, so dark she was dizzyingly disoriented when she didn’t have Jed to hold on to. Cold air whipped around her legs before she dropped her skirt and retrieved her undergarment.
“All right,” she said, moving cautiously forward. “Here it is.” She held out the linen drawers. “Would you care to tell me exactly what you’re doing?”
“I think I can make a torch.”
Her cane, linen drawers, and some high-quality whiskey. Of course!
He moved closer. She heard his breath and his booted feet on the ground before her. Cautiously, feeling his way around, he took the offered item from her.
Hannah stood very still, one hand on the wall to steady herself, while Jed went to work. She heard the tearing of fabric as he began to fashion the torch. She knew he was pouring the whiskey, totally by feel in the complete darkness, when he muttered, “What a waste.” He waited a moment longer, for the liquor to seep into the fabric, she assumed, and then a match flared to life. He set the match to a bundle of what looked like damp rags at the top of her cane, and the flame took hold.
As dreary as the cavern was, the view was preferable to the complete darkness they’d battled through thus far.
Jed wasted no time. He turned and held up the torch to illuminate the tunnel before him. “Let’s go,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to flash a rather bleak grin in her direction.
* * *
The trail went briefly downward, which caused Jed’s heart to drop, but a few minutes later the path turned up again. The torch he’d fashioned lit their way, flickering on the walls that regularly widened and then threatened to close in on them.
They couldn’t go much farther tonight. Besides, unless a breeze ruffled the flame of the torch, he had no way of knowing if they were near an opening in the rock. Best to wait until morning, when hopefully a ray of light would lead them out of the cave.
Hannah kept up without a word of complaint, and when the tunnel forked and he picked one on instinct alone, she didn’t argue. Still, she had to be tired.
As soon as he found a good place to stop, they’d settle in for the night.
“What color is it?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“What color is what?” Hannah asked peevishly.
“The garter,” he said with a grin.
There was not enough light for him to tell if her pale face blushed pink or not, but she was definitely mortified by his personal question.
“I was kinda hoping it was red,” he added.
Her eyebrows lifted. “I do not own a red garter, Mr. Rourke,” she said primly. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Too bad,” he said as he trained his eyes on the tunnel ahead.
They walked a while longer before stepping into a clearing where the floor was relatively flat and the ceiling was high.
“This will do,” he said, searching the floor for a crevice. Finding one, he jammed the end of Hannah’s cane into it. The torch, securely in place, lit the chamber dimly.
“This will do for what?” Hannah asked, wiping the back of her hand across her face and pushing away the unruly strands of red hair that had fallen over her eyes.
“We’ll spend the night here,” he said, removing the rifle and harness from his back, taking off his long coat, and laying it on the ground, over what appeared to be the smoothest part of the cavern floor.
Hannah stared longingly at the makeshift bed.
“Sit down,” he ordered. “You look tired.”
Again she didn’t argue with him, but lowered herself to sit on the buckskin overcoat. The torch flickered ominously, threatening to go out. It wouldn’t last much longer, he knew, and he only had two matches left. He’d seen no sign that this cave was home to any predators, but that didn’t mean one wasn’t waiting around the next corner. He saw no reason to share that concern with Hannah.
Someone had gone to an awful lot of trouble to lure her out here, and if he hadn’t found that note on her bed... she’d be dead now. Hannah’s tongue was no match for a couple of well-aimed rifles. The thought made his blood boil. When he got out of here, someone was going to pay for this.
The torch flickered weakly, the light threatening to die and then flaring up again.
“Sit with me before it goes out,” Hannah said softly.
He didn’t argue, but sat beside her, the rifle close at his other side. Once the torch light died they’d be lost in complete darkness again. She didn’t want him too far away when that happened, and he couldn’t blame her.
“Are you afraid?” she asked, staring straight at him with those fearless eyes of hers.
&n
bsp; “No.”
“What if we don’t find a way out tomorrow?”
“We will.”
She didn’t look down or away, wouldn’t accept his assurance at face value and take comfort in it. “You don’t know that,” she whispered. “We might never find our way out of here.”
He should’ve known better than to try to comfort Hannah with false hope.
“Well, everybody goes sooner or later. It’s not the first time I’ve faced the possibility of death.”
“It doesn’t frighten you?”
“Of course it does. I’m not stupid. But I can take comfort in the fact that I’ve got no regrets about the way I’ve lived my life.” It was the truth. He’d come close to death too many times during the war, and had begun to live each day as if it might be his last. “I’m not leaving anything undone. I don’t wish I’d lived a single day differently. I’ve had a good life.”
“No regrets,” she repeated softly.
He smiled at her. “I imagine you’re the same way. By God, Hannah, I’ve never met a woman like you before. You say what you think and you back down from nobody.”
She pinned her eyes on his face and remained silent.
“What about you?” he asked softly, his smile fading. “Are you scared?”
“Terrified,” she whispered.
The torch flickered and went out.
Chapter 11
Hannah held her breath for a long moment after the torch light extinguished. The plunge into darkness was complete, and somehow more frightening than anything that had happened to this point. If, come morning, they didn’t see a hint of light, this inky blackness was the last thing she’d know.
“It must be nice to live with no regrets,” she whispered. “You’re wrong about me living that way, too. I have more regrets than I can list in a single night.” She was suddenly certain they were going to die here, and she would never get the opportunity to live even a single day of her life the way Jed did.
“What kinds of regrets?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.
Jed (The Rock Creek Six Book 4) Page 12
