She grabbed her large backpack—the one she used for weekend-long hikes—and stuffed it with rolled blankets, food, and assorted small camping gear.
When she saw the several missed calls and texts from Chris, she tried calling, but it went right to voice mail. She left a quick message, assuring him that she was fine and would explain everything later, and then she headed out again.
Chapter Eleven
Mad Dog
Mad Dog was worried.
It had been almost two hours since he talked to Kate. Two long, painful hours in which he waited, and each subsequent call and text went maddeningly unanswered.
He waited until he could wait no longer.
This was exactly why they called him Mad Dog. He wouldn’t rest until he knew Kate was okay.
That was what had him getting into his truck in the middle of the night and heading back toward Sumneyville. His plan was to have a quick look around and confirm everything was fine. He’d be stealthy. Under ideal circumstances, no one even had to know.
The lack of flashing lights, sirens, and ambulances outside Kate’s house provided a small measure of relief. Nothing seemed amiss, but he needed more assurance than first appearances. He scanned the street, noting that most of the homes and businesses were dark, closed up tight against the winter chill. If something had happened, would anyone even know?
He called upon his training and discipline, pushing the worst of his fears aside to assess the situation. The street was quiet. Lights shone out through the first-floor windows of Kate’s house, but after watching for several painstaking minutes, he detected no activity or movement within. Common sense told him that Kate had most likely fallen asleep or something equally innocuous.
The tug in his gut insisted he find out.
He made a circuit around the perimeter and saw her Jeep parked toward the back in front of an old, detached garage. There was no evidence of foul play. Pulling off one glove, he touched the hood and found it to be cold, suggesting she hadn’t driven anywhere since they last spoke.
Next, he approached the house and peered through the windows, rationalizing his actions with genuine concern. When that yielded no useful information, he resorted to knocking on both front and back doors but to no avail.
“Where the hell are you, Kate?”
He pulled out his phone to try calling again and saw that he had a voice mail since the last time he’d checked. Cursing under his breath, he listened to her brief message.
“Don’t worry; I’m fine. I’ll explain everything later.”
As explanations went, it was woefully insufficient and completely unacceptable. He pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it. Kate was fine, but she wasn’t here, and that wasn’t good enough.
So, where had she gone without her vehicle? Had someone come by and picked her up? And what the hell did he do now?
He scanned past the trampled-down snow just off of the porch, making out several sets of footprints. He crouched down, looking more closely. Large dog prints, presumably Duke’s, were visible along with woman-sized boot prints. He could make out at least three human sets, all made by the same person—one coming toward the house and two leading away.
Kate was alone. She’d left on foot, returned, and then left again. In the middle of the night. In single-digit temps. Why?
Thankful for the clear, moonlit night, he followed the tracks into the woods, noting a few indentations where it looked as if she might have tripped or fallen along the way. As he detected only Kate’s and Duke’s prints, his curiosity grew along with his concern.
He’d been walking for a good thirty minutes or so when the scent of wood smoke tickled his nostrils. What the hell?
The prints stopped at a wall of rock covered in dormant, overgrown vines. He stopped, crouched, and listened closely, going still when he heard a familiar, fierce growl coming from behind the curtain of brush. A faint, flickering glow came from beyond, as if that of a fire.
“Duke, what is it?” someone asked warily from within.
He recognized the voice and immediately felt a flood of relief. “Kate!”
The growling stopped.
“Chris? Is that you?”
“Yes. Where are you?”
“Right here.” Kate’s face peered out at him from between the tangle of growth, her eyes capturing the reflection of the moonlight on the snow.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Didn’t you get my message?”
He bit his tongue, refusing to get into that. “What are you doing out here?”
“Come in, and I’ll show you. There’s an opening near the ground. It’ll be a tight fit, and you’ll have to crawl, but I’m sure you’ve been in tougher situations.”
Well, she’s right about that.
“Keep your movements slow and nonthreatening, okay?”
He didn’t hesitate. He got down on his belly and wedged his body through, finding Kate waiting for him on the other side. The moment he was back on his feet, he pulled her into his arms, unable to help himself. She seemed surprised at first but then returned the embrace.
“Wow, you were really worried about me, huh?”
He looked down into her face, into her beautiful eyes, and answered honestly, “Yes.”
She smiled, and everything was right in his world again. He tried not to think too much about that. His actions this evening proved he was already further gone than he was willing to admit.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”
“Even better, I’ll show you. Come on.” She curled her fingers around his and tugged.
He followed, pushing back his inner caveman, and allowed her to lead. “What is this place?”
“The entrance to an abandoned anthracite mine,” she answered over her shoulder.
“And you’re here because ...”
“You’ll see.”
They didn’t go far. A small fire illuminated the chamber, allowing him to see what looked like a nest of blankets in the corner. Duke trotted along and sat next to the pile, and then he looked back at him along with another pair of eyes.
“Is that ...”
“Yep,” Kate confirmed. “Duke’s baby mama. I think she’s close to delivering.”
Mad Dog opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. Out of all the scenarios he’d imagined, this hadn’t been one of them. “Is she okay?”
“Seems to be—other than being in labor, that is, and there’s not much we can do about that. The people at the animal hospital said to keep her calm and comfortable and not to try to move her until she has the pups.”
“How long will that take?”
“Depends. Could be up to twenty-four hours once active labor starts.”
That seemed like a long time to him, but what did he know about birthing pups? “Okay. What do we do?”
Her eyes widened. “You’re staying?”
He shrugged. He had no intentions of leaving her out here by herself in the middle of the night. “Yes.”
Her face softened, and in her eyes, he saw a glimmering spark of the same intense something he felt in his chest. He wasn’t ready to label it yet, but he did know that it went beyond garden-variety attraction. Around Kate, he felt different, and he didn’t think he was the only one.
She squeezed his hand and smiled. “We’ll eventually need something to transport them, but until then, I guess we just wait.”
She looked so radiant in the low, flickering firelight, cheeks pink and eyes bright. The desire to kiss her again became a powerful ache in his chest.
That he was going to kiss her again was a definite.
The question was, would he be able to stop once he did? Doubtful, if the pulsating aches in his chest and groin were any indication.
A more relevant question was, could he spend the rest of the night making love to this woman in a cave by firelight? Definitely.
Should he? Probably not.
Instead, he lowered himself do
wn onto a convenient rock ledge resembling a bench seat and focused on their surroundings. Rock walls, rock ceiling, the remains of ancient wooden shoring beams, which were clearly unnecessary. The floor was solid, packed earth, surprisingly clear of debris. He couldn’t help but think about the discussion he’d had just hours earlier with Church, Cage, and Doc about underground tunnels in the area, and he wondered where this one led to.
“An abandoned mine, you say?”
She nodded. “Yes. The area is full of them. Most have collapsed over the years, but there are some remaining. I spent a lot of time exploring them as a kid, including this one.”
“Alone?”
“Usually.” She averted her eyes and threw a few more dry sticks on the fire.
He followed the column of smoke upward, watching as it picked up a stream of air and disappeared into the darkness through some unseen ventilation.
“Sounds dangerous.”
“That’s why I never told anyone. They probably would have tried to stop me.” She grinned, and in her features, he could see hints of mischief and determination and a thirst for adventure.
“I can’t imagine why,” he replied dryly, but inside, he was grinning, too.
“I was ten years old and had just discovered an underground network of passageways, just like something straight out of the books I used to read. I wasn’t about to jeopardize that. Looking back now, I suppose that was pretty reckless on my part. If something had happened, no one would have known where I was. Most people don’t even know about the tunnels.”
“How do you know about them?”
“Because I listen. I heard a saying once: ‘You learn more by listening than talking.’ That’s really true.”
Church’s cautionary words echoed in his head. “I suppose it is.”
“Absolutely, it is.”
“So, you’re like a spy, huh?”
She laughed, as if delighted with the idea. “Not even close. But I am a good listener. You’d be surprised at the kinds of things people tell me.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
She thought about that for a minute before answering, “When I was a kid, the O’Farrells lived in the house next to ours. Mr. O’Farrell paid me a dollar an hour to help him weed his garden.”
“Wow, a whole dollar, huh?”
She smiled at the memory. “It wasn’t about the money. I would have done it for free, just so I could listen to his wonderful stories. He had lots of them, each more fascinating than the last. He’d worked in the mines with his dad when he was just nine years old! Would you believe he celebrated his one-hundred-and-second birthday last year?”
“He’s still around?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s on my Meals on Wheels route, and he still likes to tell stories to anyone who’ll listen. I think I’ve heard them all about a hundred times, but they never get old. I told him I’m going to write them down and publish them someday, but I don’t think I could do them justice.”
Not only was Kate beautiful, intelligent, and adventurous, but she also delivered Meals on Wheels and camped out in an abandoned mine tunnel in the dead of winter to watch over a pregnant dog. Mad Dog stared at her incredulously, certain he was missing something because no woman could possibly be that perfect.
“Is he the one who told you about this place?”
“Yes. This place and others. This one is my favorite though.”
“Why is this one your favorite?”
She hesitated slightly before answering, “Why wouldn’t it be? It’s the ultimate super-secret hideaway.”
Kate’s gaze shifted to something over his shoulder, and she bit her lower lip. She wasn’t lying, but he got the sense she wasn’t telling him everything, either.
“How about you?” she said after several minutes passed. “Did you have any super-secret hideaways when you were a kid?”
“Sort of. Nothing as cool as this though.”
She relaxed again and handed him a thermos. “Tell me.”
He unscrewed the top of the thermos and sniffed, recognizing the delicious aroma of hot chocolate and marshmallow, and took a drink before he said, “I told you I grew up in the Midwest, right?”
She nodded.
“Well, it was pretty flat. We didn’t have mountains and caves. What we did have were storm cellars.”
“For tornadoes and stuff?”
“Right. Well, there was a big family farm a couple of miles from my parents’ place, and they had several strategically placed storm cellars over their three-thousand-some-odd acres. They became the place to hang out on Friday and Saturday nights.”
“The family didn’t mind?”
“They didn’t know. The old couple who owned the place died, and everything went to a daughter in California or something. The place was vacant for years until the daughter decided to return to her roots with her own family. That was right about the time I left.”
He took another drink from the thermos. “This is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had, by the way.”
Her face lit up. “It’s my secret recipe.”
“You’re just full of secrets, aren’t you, Miss Handelmann?”
She grinned, showcasing those dimples again. “Not really. I’m sure you have many more secrets than me, Mr. Sheppard.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“Me? I’m an open book.”
“I doubt that.” She took the thermos from his hand and set it to the side, and then she straddled his lap.
He was as thrilled as he was surprised.
“Do you mind?” she asked softly.
His hands automatically went to her hips to steady her as she rested her arms on his shoulders. “Not at all.”
“Good. Seating is rather limited.”
“That it is,” he agreed. And thank God for that.
They looked into each other’s eyes, his heart beating out a steady, thunderous tattoo. Even through the layers of clothing, he felt her heat acutely and wondered if she wanted to kiss him as badly as he wanted to kiss her. Apparently, that was an affirmative because no sooner had he had that thought than she lowered her head and brushed her lips over his.
Just that quickly, everything else faded away. There was only Kate. Her taste. Her scent. The fuck-hot noises she made as she pressed herself against him, as if she couldn’t get enough. She rocked her core with slight, subtle movements that made him fervently wish there weren’t layers of clothing between them.
“You make me feel so bold,” she whispered. “Empowered.”
“Good.”
This woman should feel empowered because she had a great deal of power over him.
His dick grew harder than the stone surrounding them, and his thoughts funneled into a single track—namely, how best to satisfy her in their less than ideal environment. If she lowered her pants and sat on his lap, facing away from him, in a kind of reverse cowgirl, no part of her would ever have to come in contact with the cold stone.
Before they could further explore the possibilities, however, things started happening on the other side of the chamber. And by things happening, he meant, puppies started being born.
Kate was off his lap in a heartbeat, moving closer to help the mama dog. Mad Dog discreetly adjusted himself and pretended like he hadn’t just been ready to take her like an animal in heat. He needed to get a grip. Even if Kate had been right there with him, she deserved better than a quickie in a cold cave.
Once they’d been together for a while and she knew that it was more than just sex for him, he’d take her each and every possible way he could and ...
Shit. He needed to think of something else before he embarrassed himself.
“Can you keep Duke out of the way?” she asked, snapping him out of his reverie. “Maybe take him outside? I have a camping kit in my backpack. If you fill the pot with snow, we can heat it over the fire and create some warm compresses with the towels I brought. Things are going to get messy.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He was st
unned by not only the direction his thoughts had taken, but their intensity as well. He needed to take a step back. Take a deep breath. And calm the fuck down.
Coaxing Duke over to him, he led him outside, just as Kate had asked. While he was at it, he enlarged the opening for better access, gathered some additional fallen branches for the fire, and packed snow into the pot while Duke marked a tree or six.
When he felt sufficiently in control again and Duke was finished, they went back inside.
Kate was amazing. She spoke in soft tones, gently encouraging the mama dog, while he rubbed Duke’s head and offered some silent male encouragement of his own. He kept the fire going and heated water using the camping kit and supplies Kate had had in her backpack. Mostly, his job was keeping Duke out of the way.
Over the course of the next several hours, seven healthy, squirming little pups were born.
“Wanna see?” Kate’s face was tired but radiant.
His mind went places it shouldn’t have gone, imagining her looking at him like that while holding a baby in her arms. His baby. The image hit him with the force of a Mack truck along with a sudden, sobering realization—that could never happen because he was incapable of fathering children.
The thought gutted him. He’d come to terms with the reality years earlier, but now, looking at Kate, he wished things could be different.
Kate mistook his hesitance for something else. She grinned and asked, “You’re not squeamish, are you?”
“What? No. I just ...” He couldn’t tell her. He would but ... not yet.
“Good. Then, come over here and help me change out some of these blankets for clean ones.”
Chapter Twelve
Kate
Kate was glad she’d watched a few videos online before Chris arrived, so she had some idea of what to expect and could prepare herself. She had a pretty strong stomach, but there was a good reason she’d never considered medicine—human or animal—as a career.
Shadow of Doubt Page 8
