by Bethany Kane
“John?” she asked, scattering his thoughts.
“Yes?”
“Earlier . . . when you said that thing about the man your ex-wife fell in love with, how he had a bum knee but a great set of eyes, what did you mean by that?”
“I was just sulking.”
She lifted her head from his chest.
“No, you weren’t. You don’t sulk.”
She said it with so much confidence, even sounding a little defensive at his self-criticism.
“Something happened to Adele and me about six months before our divorce. I guess you could say it was the first step leading to our breakup. Maybe not. I don’t know. It probably would have happened sooner or later, but what happened just set things in motion.”
“What?” she whispered.
“Two men broke into our town house one night. Burglars.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah. We were sleeping. I would have been alerted sooner if Enzo was there, but we’d just returned from a trip to Adele’s mother’s, and she’s allergic to dogs. We got home late, and Enzo was still staying at a friend’s house. I heard the burglars and woke up, but they were already closing in on the bedroom by the time I got out of bed. I caught one of them as they entered the door. I hit him in the eye and in the midriff, and it sounded like the air had been knocked out of him. He was wheezing and gasping. Adele screamed. I grabbed for the second guy, but then there was a loud crash and the one I hadn’t hit started cursing. I found out later that Adele had woken up while the man was choking her and started to struggle. He’d used a lamp to hit her head. He’d knocked her out cold.”
“Oh my God.”
“I caught the second guy by the hair as they tried to flee, but his buddy had regained some alertness. He held a gun against Adele’s head and threatened to shoot her if I didn’t let his friend go. We found out a couple months later that I’d broken one of the ribs of the guy holding the gun. I guess he was in too much pain to really care about finishing the burglary—or Adele and me. He told his friend they were leaving.”
“Thank goodness. Was Adele hurt bad?”
“She had a concussion and some scratches. She was shaken up, more than anything.”
“That’s understandable.” For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. “So . . . how did that crime end up leading to your divorce?”
“Later, the police came to question Adele and me while she was in the hospital. They kept her there for a twenty-four-hour observation period because of her head. We described what had happened. I told them that one of the burglars had been about five foot eleven with longish hair and the other had been about six foot with a lean, wiry build. I explained that the taller guy’s left eye would be blackened. I also explained that despite their warnings, I’d followed the pair of them to the front door and heard them start up a car. The police immediately asked me for the make and model, if I’d seen license plates and stuff.”
“They didn’t realize you were blind,” Jennifer murmured. It didn’t shock her. John had an uncanny ability to fool a seeing person into thinking he saw everything they did.
“No. I told them then. But Adele had gotten really quiet as I described everything to the police. It’d been the first time she’d heard me tell the whole story. It really bothered her, even though she didn’t tell me so point-blank until a month or so later.”
“I don’t understand. What bothered her?” Jennifer asked slowly.
“That I had stood so close to the fleeing men, but couldn’t tell the police more details to help them catch them. If I’d been sighted, I could have told them the color of their hair and given descriptions of their clothing. I could have given them license plate numbers. The criminals would have been behind bars a hell of a lot quicker than they were.”
“That’s completely nonsensical,” Jennifer stated bluntly. “You gave them better descriptions than a lot of sighed people could.”
“It rattled Adele’s world, though. Made her feel less secure.”
“That wasn’t your fault. You protected her. You kept her safe from those jerks.”
“Did I?” he asked mildly.
He felt her focused attention on him in the silence that followed.
“Yes. You did,” she said staunchly.
He inhaled deeply. “I suppose that’s a matter of opinion. The fact is, if I’d been sighted—if I could have just been able to give a description of make and model and license number—those assholes would have potentially been off the streets in a matter of hours. As it was, Adele felt really vulnerable, knowing they were out there somewhere, wondering if they’d come back. I kept reassuring her, and we took a lot of precautionary measures, but the seed of doubt had been planted.”
“Two foul criminals made your wife doubt you,” she mumbled incredulously.
“She didn’t feel that I could protect her, Jennifer. Not with my disability.”
He heard her slight gasp, as if she’d opened her mouth to argue, but she stopped herself.
“Did they ever catch them?” she asked after a moment.
“Yeah. Three months after the break-in, one of the guys was brought in on a drug possession charge. His prints matched those from our condo. He informed on his partner for a lighter sentence.”
“And that didn’t reassure Adele any?”
“I think it was too late, then. It might have been too late the minute those guys chose our house to burglarize.”
“Adele was being completely unfair. You did keep her safe. But even if you hadn’t, it wouldn’t have been anyone’s fault but those two criminals’.”
“She felt differently about it. She has a right to her opinion.”
“But you believe Adele was right to judge you like she did,” Jennifer said slowly. “I can tell by the tone of your voice.”
He gave an impatient sigh. “What if I do, a little? It’s hard for a man, to have his home breached in that way, to have his wife threatened and assaulted. Every man on the planet would wish he could have done more. Almost every other man, woman and child on the planet would have been able to see that car.”
“A good portion of them wouldn’t have stopped those assholes from doing their worst to a loved one, like you did.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, Adele’s insecurities about me would have come out sooner or later. The robbery just brought it all to a head. She thought she understood what she’d been getting into marrying a blind man, but she discovered she was wrong.”
“Hopefully you discovered she was a spineless, faithless weakling.”
“Everyone has their weak points,” he said. “That doesn’t mean Adele was a weakling. It just means we weren’t meant for each other, that’s all.”
She gave a small grunt and put her head back on his chest. He couldn’t help but be warmed at how outraged she seemed. He’d told only two close friends about the circumstances leading up to his divorce, and they’d been nothing but incredulous and resentful over Adele’s reaction. But underneath their seeming support, he’d wondered if there hadn’t been a vague embarrassment, as if his friends too had felt a trace of shame for him that he’d been helpless to do something a seven-year-old child could have done.
Jennifer’s reaction of sheer disgust was one he hadn’t experienced so far. Strangely, it soothed him. How much had his own shame been a factor in how he’d perceived his friends’ reactions? How much had it played a part in his feelings of inadequacy when it came to Adele?
“I’ll gather from all of this that being able to protect your woman was of prime importance not just to Adele, but to you,” she mumbled into his chest a moment later.
“Yeah. I think that’s a fair statement,” he said, stroking her hair.
“Well just for the record, I think that protection should go both ways between a couple. But aside from that, if there was one person in the world I’d choose to be at my back in a dangerous situation, I’d pick you.”
Warmth flooded him at he
r simple honesty. He downplayed his response out of old habit. “You didn’t have much of a choice in this situation. You’re stuck with me.”
She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “As far as I can tell, I was blessed with you.”
He lay awake with nothing but his rioting thoughts for company when Jennifer’s breath became even and peaceful.
* * *
He awoke to the sound of Enzo’s barking.
“John? John Corcoran? You down that hole?” a distant voice called a minute later.
“Lila? Is that you?” he bellowed.
“John?” Jennifer mumbled.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, stroking her shoulder until she sat up. He did the same. “Lila, be careful of the ground. It might give,” he yelled.
“I’ll get myself fixed to a tree, I ain’t going nowhere,” Lila Raschamack, one of the longtime denizens of the forest, yelled back.
“Do you have another rope?”
“Yep. Got a good length for you too.”
John stood and found his cane. “How did you know we were down here?”
“Been looking since before dawn. Katie Pierce called me and told me she’d gotten a message you two had fallen into a sinkhole. She contacted the authorities, and she and Rill are with them. They were going to start searching at first light. She knew I didn’t live far from your place, though, and called me to see if I’d noticed anything.”
“Who is Lila?” Jennifer whispered next to him.
“Lila Raschamack. She lives a few miles from my place.”
“Wait . . . the chinchilla lady?”
John started. “Katie told you about her?” he murmured, grinning. John had heard from Sherona Legion that Katie Pierce and Lila had formed an unlikely friendship. Katie, who worked for the county helping the poor and illiterate do their taxes, had assisted the rough-hewn, laconic Lila out of a pinch with the IRS last year. Despite the fact that Lila had held Katie at gunpoint upon Katie’s first visit to her isolated chinchilla farm, Katie was currently the only other person on the planet to whom Lila ever offered one of her prized cigars. Lila hated people as a matter of course, but she’d known John since he was a kid, and tolerated him better than most.
“John? Want me to send down the rope?” Lila called.
“What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked him, clearly sensing his hesitancy.
“I’m worried about the ground giving way beneath the rope once our weight is on it. The ground gets thicker and more secure as you move outward from the sinkhole, but still . . .”
“Maybe we should just wait for the rescue team, then.”
He considered. “The rescue team will need to use rope as well, or a rope ladder. Besides, I don’t mean to alarm you, but a ‘rescue team’ from these parts is likely to consist of the sheriff and one or two volunteer firemen. I tend to trust Lila’s assistance more than Sheriff Mulligan’s,” he mused. “I’m a little worried about Sheriff Mulligan tramping around up there along with Rill and Katie Pierce—nothing against your friends. I hear Rill Pierce is a brilliant writer and director, but I don’t know what kind of an outdoorsman he is.”
“He can hold his own. But I’m up for trying whatever you think, John.”
“Lila?” he called.
“Yep?”
“Is it Sheriff Mulligan who’s coming?”
There was a distinct sound of spitting, an indication of Lila’s disregard for the county’s top lawman. “Yep, for all he’s worth. Him and that sorry-assed Hilbert Hanks. He’s the only volunteer fireman who didn’t get asked on a fishing trip up the Ohio.”
John sighed. It didn’t sound too promising. “Is there a good-sized tree limb hanging horizontally anywhere in the vicinity of the hole?” he bellowed.
“Yep,” Lila called succinctly after a moment.
He frowned, thinking.
“Whatever you want to do, John,” Jennifer said quietly beside him.
“Do you think you can handle the climb without anyone pulling you if you go up first? There’ll be loops and knots on the rope, but it takes a lot of upper body strength to climb a rope.”
He sensed her doubt in the silence.
“I’ll go up first,” he said. “Then I’ll be able to haul you up, and take some pressure off the ground beneath the rope too.”
“Okay.”
“I won’t leave you down here if you don’t want me to. But if I do go up first, it’ll be a matter of minutes before you’re up there with me. I promise.”
“I’ll be fine. I trust whatever you have in mind.”
The pressure in her voice told him she was thinking about what he’d told her last night, about Adele.
“It’s true, John,” she said quietly. “Even if it weren’t for a rescue squad consisting of a worthless sheriff and a sorry-assed volunteer fireman.”
He chuckled and reached up to touch her shoulders.
“Lila! Go ahead and send down the rope. Make sure to loop and knot it before you tie it off. Loop it over the tree branch to take some of the pressure off the lip of the hole.”
“I’m one step ahead of you,” Lila said, her voice sounding muffled and cranky from a distance. A moment later, he heard the subtle swoosh of the rope falling through the air. He put out his hand, and Jennifer placed the bottom loop of the rope into his palm. He leaned down over her.
“Are you sure you don’t mind waiting for a little bit?”
“I’m positive.”
He listened for a tremor in her voice, but heard no trace of it.
“The thing is,” he said quietly, “I don’t want you to stand here. In case the rope causes another cave-in, I don’t want you to be beneath it. I want you to go to the edge of the cave, the one farthest away from the mine collapse. Can you do that?”
“Yes. I’m not as afraid of the dark anymore. Not after last night.”
What a fucking amazing, miraculous woman. He leaned down and seized her mouth for that, quick and fierce.
“I’ll see you next topside. Go over to the edge of the cave,” he said, sliding the crook of his cane through a belt loop on his jeans. “We’ll both be out of here before you know it.” He waited, listening to the sound of her retreating footsteps. When she’d gone a safe distance, he slid his boot into the bottom loop and reached for a knot in the rope. As his muscles contracted as he pulled himself up, he could still feel the imprint of Jennifer’s lips on his mouth.
They were returning to the real world now. He couldn’t help but wonder if that had been their last kiss.
He frowned at the thought and pulled himself steadily out of the dark hole, heartened to feel the ground holding steady beneath the rope. Most would have considered it a hellish experience, being trapped beneath the earth with no escape. John couldn’t help but feel differently, though. If they got out safely, he’d remember the experience for the rest of his days. He’d remember Jennifer—her warmth, her humor, her sensuality and her generosity.
But he was returning back to earth now, where miracles were rare, brilliant and short-lived.
* * *
Jennifer watched John rise up the rope, his big, lean body bunching with effort and dangling in a ray of sunshine. Seeing him leave her sent a strange feeling through her, like she’d never see him again. Her heart jumped in alarm when a chunk of earth crumbled near the rope, breaking apart and spraying John with dirt and rocks. He paused in his ascent, coughing.
“You okay?” she called anxiously.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
He continued up the rope. She wasn’t sure if she drew breath until she saw his boots finally disappear over the edge of the hole.
John pulled the rope up after him. “I’m up, Jennifer. Hold on while I find the most secure place to pull you up.”
“Okay.”
A few minutes later, the rope snaked back down the beam of sunlight, but the end of it didn’t look the same anymore. Instead a sort of harness was there, with several knots above it.
“Step into the
harness and get it beneath your hips,” John called. She yelled back when she’d done what he instructed. “Now reach around the rope and hug it to you. Don’t try to hold on to it with your hands, just grip your elbows with your hands, so that your forearms, upper arms and chest make a sort of square around the rope, then hug tight. Don’t break the hold for anything. Do you understand?”
“Okay,” she called when she’d endeavored to follow his directions.
“Sit down in the loop. Give the rope your weight,” he shouted.
She did so, swaying in the air when her boots left the ground. It took more muscle tension than she would have expected to keep her body balanced on the rope.
“Feel secure?”
She bit her lip nervously.
“Absolutely,” she called.
“Okay, I’m going to pull you up, now. Hold on tight.”
She suddenly rose three feet in the air and bit off a gasp. The rope cut into her hips and thighs; it pulled painfully against her forearms, straining her biceps and shoulders.
“You okay?”
“Yes!”
A loud grunt of effort tore through the air. She jerked another three feet, and the cave started to drop away from her. She heard another grunt from above and higher she went. About halfway up, she remained suspended for several seconds, swinging back and forth. She looked up through the hole, seeing the rope had been tossed over a tree branch fifteen feet above the ground. John was pulling it at an angle away from the hole, the tree branch taking much of her weight off the possibly fragile lip of the sinkhole. She couldn’t imagine the effort it must be costing him to haul her up.
Her hands were growing sweaty where they gripped her arms, but her discomfort was quite manageable. She was worried about John. Was something wrong?
“John? Are you okay?”
“Hold your horses, Missy,” Lila muttered near the edge of the cave. “You think it’s like playing on the monkey bars for him to haul you out barehanded?”
Embarrassment swept through her. She opened her mouth to contradict the cantankerous Lila, but stopped herself. “No, of course I don’t think it’s easy. I was just worried something was wrong. Is he okay?” she asked quietly, for Lila’s ears only.