Big Sky

by Stacey Coverstone

  There was no way to safely get past Chelsea, so she had no other option but to go in the opposite direction, deeper into the tunnel. She prayed there would be another room where she could hide or an opening that would lead to the outside. It was her only hope.

  With the thin beam of light as her guide, she ran with memories flooding back. She thought of Brett giving her a lift on the back of his horse the day they met. Him riding up on Bill after she’d been thrown from Dusty. Him standing up to Clint and taking control when the brakes went out on the rental car. All those times he’d come to her rescue like a knight in shining armor. She’d give anything for him to pop up and save her now.

  Every inch of her body cried out in protest as the ceiling began closing in on her. She could touch both walls with her outstretched hands. The sound of Dash and Chelsea’s footsteps catching up with her hammered in her ears.

  Her hands skimmed the wall, and her heart tripped when she came to a complete dead end. At the same moment, her flashlight flickered out. “No,” she whispered, banging her hand against it. Swallowing through a throat that felt as dry as dirt, she leaned against the cold wall, thinking how terrible it would be to die alone in the darkness. Dash and Chelsea were almost upon her. What could she do? She was trapped like an animal with no way out.

  Her mind spun. When Dash pounced, it would be all over for her. She feared Mama wouldn’t survive losing both her daughters. And what about Brett? If she died, he’d never know what he really meant to her.

  A blinding hurt caught her unprepared as her memory lit on the image of Brett’s tanned face, the dimple in his chin, his mouth cocked in amusement, and the golden streaks running through his hair. Tears sprang to her eyes thinking about the way he wore his cowboy hat tilted. The way his mouth felt molded perfectly to hers when they kissed. The way he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman on earth…

  She felt a desolate sadness at the thought that in the moment of discovering her true feelings for him, she had probably also lost him—and her life.

  No! She wouldn’t give up. Knowing Brett cared about her was the sustenance she needed to fight for survival.

  She raised the flashlight above her head to use as a weapon. In the darkness, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other like a boxer preparing for a bout, and her foot kicked a large stone. When it rolled away, she heard it drop off into what must have been a deep shaft in the ground. Gasping, she flattened herself against the cold, hard wall, her legs buckling beneath her as she listened to the rock bouncing from side to side down the length of the chasm. The noise echoed until it ended with a splash at the bottom. She’d come so close to dropping into the gap like that stone!

  Before her heart had time to return to a normal beat, she felt a rough hand grab her shoulder. The faint light of Chelsea’s lantern lit up Dash’s twisted face. Taylor lashed out with the flashlight, striking a blow to the side of his head. When he batted the flashlight from her hand, she struck out with her fists, kicking and yelling at the top of her voice, determined not to go down without a fight.

  “Get her, Dash!” Chelsea screamed.

  Tears of angry frustration filled Taylor’s eyes, blinding her as she wrestled with the man. Aware that one or both of them could fall into the depths of the earth with one misstep, she struggled to grapple him toward the shaft opening. But his strength was too much for her. He kicked at her feet and she lost her balance. Her boot heel slipped. As Taylor screamed, the rough rock scraped her hands and she careened into the deep abyss. The lantern light above her head dimmed as she plummeted into the dark and splashed into water.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Taylor surfaced above the water feeling pain in her ankle, but ecstatic to be alive. That elation turned to panic within seconds. The subterranean cave was so dark, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face—and the water was as cold as ice.

  Her lungs seized and tears spilled from her eyes. “Help me!” she screamed. “Don’t leave me down here!” She slapped at the water with her hands, realizing her feet were not touching ground. There was no longer any light above. No voices or sounds. Apparently, Dash and Chelsea had left her to die.

  Swim, urged the voice in her ear. Courage came from believing the guiding voice to be an ancient spirit who had been with her since she entered the cave. Even if it were her own voice in her head, she’d have to trust her life to it.

  Pushing wet hair from her face, she began to dog paddle with one hand while reaching out for the wall with the other. Feeling the hard stone against her palm was comforting in the eerie darkness. But which direction should she go? Right or left? Something told her to go to her left.

  Kicking her feet and using one hand to swim with while keeping the other traveling along the wall, she estimated going about one hundred feet before the water became shallower and she touched solid ground. Crying out when she put weight on her sore ankle, Taylor knew she had to fight through the pain and keep moving if she wanted to get out of here alive. No one was going to save her but herself.

  Soaked to the skin and freezing, her entire body convulsed with tremors. She closed her eyes against the dark, thinking it would help keep her balanced as she walked. Gradually, the water became shallower until it was about a foot deep. Splashing through the water as rapidly as her sore foot would allow, she scraped her hand along the wall and hoped the ground below didn’t slope suddenly. In the dark, one stumble was all it would take to lose her balance. If she slipped and hit her head on the rock wall, she could be knocked unconscious and drown.

  Beneath her palm, the smooth, slippery rock began to change after a while. She felt a series of sharp protruding ledges and could also tell the stream was altering in its direction. Shifting her body further to the left to follow the route of the stream, her throat dried with fear. Disoriented in the pitch black, she panicked. Was she going in circles? Would she end up back where she began in the deep pool? If so, what then?

  Reaching for calm, the determination to seek justice for Jamie’s death—and wanting to see Brett again—sustained her as she pushed forward.

  After splashing through the stream for what had felt like a mile, with no light and her hope of escape fading, Taylor was overcome with tears again. Would she ever see her mother and Will, or Brett again? If she died down here, no one would know what Dash and Chelsea had done. They’d keep selling the Native American artifacts illegally. And they’d get away with murder.

  “I won’t let that happen,” Taylor shouted, needing to break up the deafening silence with a human voice. Hers bounced off the walls and echoed back to her. “I’ll see that your killers get what they deserve, Jamie,” she vowed, speaking aloud. “That is, if I get out of here.”

  Her breath felt labored. With the physical exertion she’d been putting out, her lungs felt like they were about to burst. If only she could sit down and rest a moment. But that was not happening. Her body would freeze into an ice sculpture if she stopped moving.

  Thank God I inherited daddy’s stubborn will and determination, she thought, knowing she had to buck up like the cowboys that worked her family’s ranch, even as blind terror threatened to turn her legs to stone.

  She trudged on and on. When she felt she could go no further, a thin shaft of light played on her face and she felt a breath of fresh air. Her eyes popped open. She saw daylight filtering in from a crack above. Blinking against the sudden light, she sucked in the cool air greedily.

  The joy she felt at the small miracle only lasted a moment.

  Once her eyes fully adjusted, she saw the cavern walls had narrowed to where she had to slip between the rocks and slide through with her shoulders turned sideways. There was no other way. There was no time to ponder her fear of tight spaces. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed into the crevice. “Please don’t let me get stuck,” she prayed out loud.

  Once she’d made it through to the other side, she breathed a sigh of relief and crossed a small natural bridge, which led to a c
hamber. The crack in the rock above continued to allow daylight to shine down and guide her way, giving her hope that she was near another entrance to the cave and that this nightmare was about over.

  When she entered the chamber, what she hoped to find was an exit to the outside. Instead, she found another pool—small, clear and pristine—surrounded by more rock walls. She knelt and dipped her hand in. The water was cool to the touch. Exhausted and certain she’d come to a dead end, she held her head in her hands and rocked back and forth on her knees. If this was the end, she had a few things to say to the people in her life.

  “Mama, I love you, and I’m sorry for putting you through this a second time. Will, I apologize for thinking you could have had anything to do with hurting Jamie. You’ve been the best stepfather a girl could ask for.”

  Taylor sniffed and felt her throat clog with deep-felt emotion.

  “Jamie, I’m sorry for all the years I’ve wasted being mad at you. Deep in my heart, I think you were sorry for what you did. I suppose you just didn’t know how to express it at the time. And I understand that now. Wherever you are, I want you to know that I love you.”

  Her voice hitched. “Brett.” Her memory flashed back to the parking lot at Maverick’s when he told her he was falling for her. It seemed ages ago, like they’d known each other longer than three days. “Brett, I didn’t want to. I tried not to. But the truth is I’ve fallen for you, too.” She hiccupped through her tears. “Crazy, isn’t it? The woman who swore she’d never marry again is having second thoughts. That’s right, cowboy. I’m thinking your dream of owning a little ranch here in Montana sounds pretty good. I’m wondering if it could be my dream, too. But you’ll never know it, will you?”

  Emotionally drained and numb with physical pain, Taylor raised her head and that was when she saw it. Across the pool was a narrow opening. Was it another passageway, or could it be the exit she was looking for? Maybe it was a mirage. Her head felt light. If it turned out to be another tunnel, Taylor would have to face defeat. But defeat just wasn’t in her DNA.

  Her frozen bones creaked when she stood up and splashed through the pool to the other side. Wet, cold, and dog-tired, she limped through the opening and her body was awash with light. Oblivious to the throbbing in her ankle, she rushed forward, blessing the light that filtered through a tree growing tightly against a horizontal crack in the earth that was just big enough for her body to squeeze through.

  Unmindful of the scratches pricking her, she forced herself through the hole as if she was a baby being born. Grunting, she heaved herself into the open and fell into tall, sweet grass.

  Glorious sunshine and blue skies greeted her! Rolling onto her back, the hot rays beat down on her body, bringing her instant relief. Never in her life had she seen anything so beautiful as the big Montana sky!

  But there was no time to waste. She had to get back to the ranch and call the sheriff. There was no telling what Dash and Chelsea might do next. They’d murdered Jamie and thought they’d killed her. What if they panicked and went after Mama and Will?

  Where was Sugarfoot? Taylor got to her knees and felt her head spin. “Whoa. Better take it easy, girl,” she said out loud, not feeling well. She closed her eyes and let the moment pass. When trying to stand again, her legs felt like rubber. But it didn’t matter. She’d been through the worst of it. She had survived, and one way or another, she had to get home and make Dash and Chelsea pay.

  “Sugarfoot!” she called, crawling through the grass on her hands and knees. As she crawled, a startling thought occurred to her. Maybe Dash had taken the horse back to the ranch with him. Though her mind was fuzzy, she tried to think the way a conniving murderer would think.

  If he had ponied the horse back to the ranch, Sugarfoot would be proof that Dash had been out to the cave—or at least somewhere near it. Taylor had told Charlie she was riding to the cave. Charlie had saddled Sugarfoot. He would attest to that. If Brett and Will realized Taylor was missing and went to the cave to look for her, it would be to Dash’s advantage to leave Sugarfoot there. That way, if the horse was found near the cave, people would assume Taylor had had an accident—and no one would ever suspect Dash had been there. After all, Taylor had come here alone. Accidents happened to women when they were alone.

  Yes! Surely, Dash had thought all that through and left the horse here.

  “Sugarfoot!” she called again, trying to shake off the wave of nausea that moved through her. Thinking she heard a whinny, she stumbled to her feet. With blurry eyes she called out again. “Sugarfoot!”

  A soft breeze swirled past her face, and Taylor smiled at the gelding’s welcoming nicker when he trotted out of a patch of trees nearby. Something hinted the ancient presence had shown the horse the way to her. “Thank you,” she whispered to the spirit.

  The horse sauntered to her and she smoothed her hand across his velvety nose. Trembling with fatigue, she leaned her body against his side. “We have to ride, boy. But I’m not feeling so hot. I hope you know the way home.”

  Grabbing onto his long mane of hair, every inch of her body cried out in protest when she tried to mount him. It seemed like she’d been walking in that dark underground abyss for weeks. Her body felt battered and bruised.

  Suddenly, her head grew light and she felt her boot slip out of the stirrup. And her world grew black again.

  Chapter Thirty

  Brett sauntered into the barn to find Charlie and Tumbleweed shooting the breeze. “Did you get Taylor to town safely?” he asked Charlie, who only nodded. The man had an odd expression on his face. “Something wrong, Charlie?”

  “There might be, boss. Tumbleweed just told me he and Dash had an unusual conversation while I was gone.”

  “Unusual in what way, Tumbleweed?”

  The big man wiped his hands on a bandana and stuck the scarf in his pocket. “I asked Dash if he remembered the day we found that cave with the pictures on the wall. I swear, Brett, his face went white as a ghost and then he demanded to know why I was asking. I told him Mr. Banner’s stepdaughter had seen a picture of the cave and had been asking Charlie questions about it. That seemed to agitate him.”

  Brett’s gut began to churn. “What cave are you talking about?”

  Charlie conveyed his earlier conversation with Taylor and Brett said, “Then what did Dash do, Tumbleweed?”

  “He ran up and down the aisle looking into all the stalls and noticed Sugarfoot wasn’t in his. Since all the other horses were here, he wanted to know where the gelding was. I didn’t see any harm in telling him the truth. I told him Charlie had saddled the horse for the woman and that she was riding out to see that cave.”

  Charlie broke in, seeming anxious to move the story along. “Then Tumbleweed said Dash threw his hat on the ground, cussed like he was spitting nails, and stomped out of the barn.”

  “Next thing I knew,” Tumbleweed continued, “Dash jumped into his pickup truck and sped out of here like the devil was on his heels.”

  “I have a bad feeling,” Charlie said. His brows furrowed. “I’ve noticed Dash acting strange the past couple of days. He’s seemed more nervous and jittery than usual.”

  “He’s been smoking like a chimney,” Tumbleweed added. “I keep sweeping up cigarette butts everywhere I look.”

  Dash smokes. Goosebumps rose on Brett’s flesh.

  “I wonder if he’s stopped taking his medication,” Charlie pondered aloud.

  Brett’s head snapped up. “What medication?”

  “The pills for his insomnia.”

  “Insomnia? I didn’t know about that.”

  “Yeah, Dash has it so bad he takes a prescription medication for it.”

  Brett’s mind flew into action, working like an engine to recall the facts Taylor had told him about the coroner’s report. The coroner had found Phenobarbital in Jamie’s blood. What medication did Dash take for his insomnia? He had to find out. Could Dash have murdered Jamie? He was a smoker, but that proved nothing. He was constan
tly complaining about low wages and wanting to get out of Montana. But what did his gripes have to do with Taylor’s sister? What would be his motivation for wanting Jamie dead? It seemed like a stretch to be accusing him of murder.

  Charlie shook his shoulder. “What are you thinking about, Brett? Do you suspect Dash is up to no good?”

  “My instincts tell me it’s possible, Charlie. I don’t want to jump to any conclusions, but I’m wondering if I should call Rick Tavares.”

  “Do you think Dash had something to do with Miss Jamie’s murder?”

  Brett stared the older ranch hand in the eye. “What makes you ask that?”

  Charlie shook his head. “Just a feeling. Miss Taylor confided in me that she and Mrs. Banner believe there was foul play involved in Miss Jamie’s death. I believe Dash has it in him to cause harm.”

  “Go on.”

  “I saw him slap that girl about a week ago. They didn’t see me, but I should have stepped up and said something. I didn’t and wish I had.”

  “What girl?” Brett’s shoulders were growing stiff with fury.

  “The nurse who has been helping Mrs. Banner to get back on her feet.”

  “Chelsea? Are you saying Dash and Chelsea are an item?”

  “I don’t know, boss. I just saw what I saw. He slapped her and she cried.”

  Brett’s head was exploding with a dozen thoughts. “Where is Taylor now?”

  “She rode Sugarfoot out to the cave. You don’t think she’s in any danger, do you?” Charlie’s eyes grew wide.

  The hairs on the back of Brett’s neck bristled. Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. He flipped it open hoping it was Taylor. “Hello. Oh, Rick. It’s you. Coincidentally, I was about to give you a call.”

  Charlie and Tumbleweed backed away to give him privacy.

  “Brett, where’s Taylor Young?” Rick asked. “I’ve been trying to reach her on her cell phone for the past hour and she’s not answering.”

  “She’s somewhere out on the range. I doubt her phone is working. What’s up?”