by Lori Foster
But it was hell on relationships.
“What relationships?” he muttered, stilling again as the floor creaked. He signaled Recon to stop, then carefully shifted a landslide of books out of his path before testing the floor again. Deciding on his route, he sent her on ahead and continued to pick his way closer to the kitchen. He absently glanced at the titles as he shifted them aside. Lapidary Journal, Gemologists Today, Jewels and Jewelry. Her business, perhaps? He shook his head. He’d always figured her as the CEO of some Fortune 500 company. Perhaps his attentions had been a bit more hero-worship-colored than he wanted to admit.
Though the trip across the room to the kitchen was less than twenty feet, he and Recon were forced to stop half a dozen times, their forward progress slow, but thankfully steady and as safe as possible. It was a nerve-racking pace, but he had to do his best to ensure they didn’t all three end up needing rescuing.
Finally Recon made it into the kitchen and it was only moments later she sent up her alert. She was trained to stand and bark when she’d found whatever she’d been sent after. In her case, it was usually people. And not always in time. But her bark wasn’t agitated, as it tended to get when her
“prize” wasn’t as lively as she’d hoped. It was bright, perky, excited. Brett had, unfortunately, had plenty of opportunity these past several months to learn the nuances of Recon’s alerts.
He climbed carefully around the last bookcase, then gingerly slid her kitchen table, now on its side and almost completely blocking the door, to the side. Finally he made it into the kitchen. Digger stood in his crate, or vibrated would be more accurate, tail stub wagging furiously, mouth open in soundless yips. Brett realized why he hadn’t heard the dog bark or signal for intruders. He’d long since lost his voice, poor guy.
“It’s okay, Digger. We’re here for you.” He signaled Recon to cease her alert. She stopped barking, but there was no settling her down. Another buddy to play with! Brett smiled and righted several cane chairs before kneeling in front of the crate. “Yes, Recon, much more fun prize than usual, huh, girl?” He rubbed his dog’s head and gave her a reward from his pocket. Her favorite—dried hot dog pieces.
“Okay, Dig, let’s see about getting you out of here, buddy.” Fortunately his crate was small, so Brett could pick up the whole thing. Despite the dog’s obvious glee in being rescued, in his highly agitated and terrified state, there was no telling what he’d do if let go. Better to keep him confined. Digger’s leash was tucked in his pack, so he hoisted the crate, and began the arduous climb back out. The house continued to creak ominously and given its precarious perch on the mountainside, he wasn’t taking any chances. Though it was tempting to just head straight for the door, directly over the rubble of furniture, he followed the same careful path he’d charted on the way in, slowed by the dog-filled crate he was now hauling with him. Once outside, he’d get Haley to put her dog on lead, then they were all climbing their way off this mountain.
He sent Recon out of the house first, then hit the front porch the same instant Haley hit a dead run toward them.
Her expression was one of pure, unadulterated joy. “Digger! My little baby!”
Digger yipped soundlessly and banged around inside his crate.
“Whoa, whoa,” Brett said, trying to hold the suddenly quaking cage. “Let’s get back, away from the house.” It was the safe thing to do, but he also didn’t need her dealing with the destruction inside just yet. Let her enjoy her reunion with Digger.
“What’s wrong with him?” She was reaching for the crate.
“He’s barked himself hoarse. I imagine the quake shook him up quite a bit. Some animals are hypersensitive to seismic movement, sensing it even before we do.” He kept talking as he eased them off the porch and away from the house. “Let me carry him until we’re clear of the house. His leash is in my pack. You can take him out and hook him up as soon as we get clear.”
Haley literally dogged his heels all the way down the drive to the road. It wasn’t until she’d knelt and let an amazingly wiggled-up dog out of his crate, caught him to her chest and hugged him tightly, nose buried in his wiry fur, that she looked at him again. Eyes shining as brightly as Digger’s, mouth stretched wide, teeth flashing, she was amazingly beautiful. Even with scratches on her face, hair sticking out at every angle and dog hair plastered all over her, she took his breath away.
“Thank you,” she said, then impulsively reached up on tiptoes and kissed him right on the mouth. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked.
Her lips were warm, sweet, and had she not been standing in front of her partially demolished house, rescued dog clutched to her chest, he’d have likely reached for her and found out just where this friendly thank-you kiss might lead. Damn, but he’d waited a long time to taste Haley Brubaker. And it had been well worth it. Quake and all.
When she pulled back, her eyes were bright with more than gratitude, her skin flushed with more than relief. She held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity. But just when he was going to lower his head again, to find out if the fireworks between them were as real as he suspected they were, Digger reached up and licked his cheek, making them both laugh.
“He thanks you, too,” Haley said, hugging the dog again.
“Thank you for doing this, Brett. I know I had no right, compromising things, but I can’t say I’m sorry. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
Seeing Digger’s tongue lolling happily and the bright light shining from her eyes gave him a pretty clear idea. “Not a problem. I’m just glad he’s okay. You’ll probably want the medics down below to check him out. There will probably be at least one vet on scene. Either one could probably recommend something for his throat.” He tugged out the leash and smiled. “As much as I know both of you would rather you carry him out of here, it would be better if he were on lead.”
The “just in case” was implied. The slightest frown creased her forehead and for the first time she looked back at her house. “I hadn’t even thought about what comes next. Is it—is everything really okay in there?” The color that had come back to her cheeks when she’d been reunited with Digger had brightened to a flush with their kiss. Brett knew it wouldn’t be long before true emotional and physical toll began to set in. And it would be best if she was down at the base, with help at the ready, when that happened.
“Do you have family, friends, in the area?” He motioned back down the road. “That road is impassable and will be for some time.”
“But my house? It’s really okay?”
Brett sighed. He hated to say anything, but he refused to lie to her. “Things got shaken up a bit. Some of your dishes are broken, your furniture got jumbled up pretty good. I’m not sure how serious the damage is. I’m sure a lot of it just needs to be put to rights. But they’ll have to send inspectors up here, engineers and whatnot, to check everything out before they’ll give you the okay to go back in.” If they do at all, he added silently, but saw she understood that anyway.
She opened her mouth, then looked at her house and closed it, sighing. “I’m just happy you’re okay,” she murmured, pressing her face once again into Digger’s now more settled body. “That’s all that matters.”
There had been fear on her face, worry, maybe a moment of yearning, before resignation had taken over. Brett thought of the books he’d seen on her bookcase. “You said something down at base, when we first hooked up, about your livelihood.”
She nodded. “I make jewelry. I—I was just coming back from a business trip, setting up some new accounts in other cities.”
“So most of your stock is already in stores?” He felt a little better then. She’d have insurance. Surely they’d replace her supplies, tools.
Then she shook her head. “No. Several boutiques around the Bay Area handle a few pieces, but I’d been stocking up, preparing for this trip. I have one case of some of my best pieces, packed with my luggage.” Her mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God, I never got my luggage!
I was so worried, I—”
“It will be there,” he told her. “We can get it later.”
“We?” She shook her head. “You’ve already gone way above and beyond—”
“Do you have someplace to stay? Where you can take Digger?”
She simply stared at him, then down at Digger, nonplussed for a moment, before finally marshaling her control once again. “We’ll get a room. I’m sure they’ll make exceptions, all things considered.”
“I’ve got tons of room.” He raised his hand. “My family would never forgive me if I didn’t help out.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she only said, “How are they? Everyone still in Baton Rouge?”
“All but me and Sean.” He dug his hands into his pockets. Mostly to keep from reaching for her again. It was the damnedest thing, but he had this feeling that all this had happened for a reason. Maybe not the quake, he didn’t need anything so literally earthshaking as a sign. But… he couldn’t ignore the feeling that this—meeting her again— was somehow, some way, meant to be. “Your work. It’s in there?” He nodded to the house.
Surprisingly, she shook her head and motioned instead to the small, detached garage. “I turned that into a workspace. I have a small safe in there to keep finished work I haven’t sent on consignment. Four contracts’ worth of work is in there.” She said the latter more to herself than to him.
Brett had no idea what had happened between her and her wealthy family, but it was clear she wasn’t living off any kind of trust fund. Her furniture had been nice, but basic and functional. There were no fancy gadgets, no high-end stereo system, no pricey appliances, much less any objets d’art, at least none that he had seen. As far as he could tell, her jewelry business was her sole source of income.
He studied the garage. “Is it a key safe, or a combination safe?”
Understanding dawned immediately on her face. “No, I can’t let you do that. It’s all in there and safe. I’ve seen that with my own eyes. I’ll— It’ll be all right. I’m sure my clients will be more than understanding, given the circumstances.”
Brett had been in and around enough disaster situations to know that while insurance companies did the best they could to help their customers out, and the state did what it could to help, restitution took time. And, in some cases, insurance money simply wasn’t enough. Acts of God, as quakes were termed, didn’t always come under the heading of benefits. And he doubted, given her circumstances, she’d taken out any pricey earthquake coverage.
He shot her a grin, his cockiest. “Wouldn’t hurt any to at least get the pieces out of there, where they could be earning you some commissions, right? You’ll have enough on your hands, dealing with the rest of this. Knowing you at least fulfilled your initial obligation would go a long way toward—”
“Brett, thank you, but I can’t ask you to do that.” She looked at the garage then away again. Her future, everything she’d worked hard for, was right inside that little building.
Even if things did move swiftly, with the road the way it was, she wouldn’t be let back up here on any kind of permanent basis for a long time. And he wasn’t sure what kind of means the state would provide for the families up here to get their belongings down off the mountain in the meantime.
She was looking at the garage again and he pressed his advantage. “Just give me the combination.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin. And it’s not something you can haul down the mountain in your backpack. None of it is wrapped and—”
“Just what kind of jewelry are we talking about?”
She smiled finally. “Unique. Wire, beads, jewels. Most of it somewhat fragile. At least, in terms of hiking and backpacks.” She finally knelt and put Digger down, snapping on his body harness and lead. She ruffed his ears, scratched his rear haunches, then finally stood. Recon and Digger set about getting to know one another and she smiled. “I have everything I need.” She looked at him again. “But thank you.” She nodded toward the garage. “It will be okay, don’t you think? I’ve got clothes and stuff in my luggage. Enough to handle things for a while, anyway. We’ll be fine. Or as fine as we can be.”
It was ridiculous, really. Here he was, the trained professional, and he was the one wanting to take stupid risks—for the civilian who was being rational about the whole thing.
But she wasn’t any civilian. And he knew she hadn’t a clue what she had yet to face. “Let me at least look inside and check on things. I don’t know when you’ll be let up here again.”
She smiled. “Or your family will never forgive you?”
He smiled, too. “Not in this case. I take full responsibility for this act of idiocy.”
She put her hand out as he turned. “Brett, really—”
He just grinned over his shoulder. “I’m a big boy. And I’m well trained.”
Recon chose that moment to bark, as if in total agreement, making them both laugh.
“Okay,” Haley said. “But only if I at least get to come to the door and tell you what to take.” She held up her hand when he went to protest. “Those are my conditions. Take ‘em or leave ’em.”
He tried to stare her down. It didn’t work. He sort of liked that. Not that he’d tell her. Let a woman know something like that and she’d be running roughshod over you in a heartbeat. Not that he thought he’d mind a whole lot, he found himself thinking. If the woman was Haley Brubaker.
“Just to the door,” he said, wagging a finger. “And hold on to Digger.” He put Recon in a sit/ stay as Haley slapped her chest and her little dog literally sprung off its haunches, all the way into her arms.
“Nice trick.”
“You’re not the only one who’s well trained.” she said smugly, then motioned for him to lead on.
Rather than lift up either of the roll-top doors, Brett opted for the small, windowed door around the side. The footing wasn’t as good there, as the hill sloped down directly behind him. But the bay doors would shake the building too much. There was a small railing and stoop, both of which he made use of. He motioned her to stand back. “Let me take a look, then I’ll go in and roll up the doors if I think it’s okay. I don’t want you this close to the edge.”
She nodded.
He stepped inside, but even with the door open, it was too dark to really see anything. He felt around the door frame until he hit the switch. Nothing. No power. No real surprise there.
“I have a generator,” she called. “We lose power up here all the time.”
“I’ll use my flashlight.” He’d just pulled it out of his pack, stepped inside as he turned it on, when Recon began to bark. It was one he didn’t recognize. He stepped back out, saw his dog still in her sit/stay, but barking in what, for her, was almost a high-pitched frenzy. “Recon,” he called, then gave a signal for her to come. She bulleted toward him.
Digger started squirming in Haley’s arms, too, and she was looking around, trying to discover the source.
Brett had a really bad feeling, but before he could do anything, the ground began to roll like water beneath his feet. “Move! Move!” he shouted, wanting Haley away from the structure. As he stepped back out onto the stoop, it gave way, sending him back into the building. The ground rocked more violently and Recon danced outside, barking.
Brett tried to make a leap past the stoop that was no longer there, to the ground just a few feet away, but he couldn’t get a grip with his feet.
“Brett!”
Haley was screaming his name. He didn’t know what to tell her, other than to get away from the buildings. But it didn’t mean the earth wouldn’t split wide open and swallow her whole anyway. Goddammit, what had he been thinking to waste time up here as he had! Flirting, for all intents and purposes. Not that it would have made much difference. They wouldn’t have made it far anyway. For all he knew, they could have ended up in a landslide of trees.
He reached out for anything to hold on to, then the ground heaved him up in th
e air as though he weighed less than a Popsicle stick. He landed hard. On what, he had no idea. He could hear Recon barking, Haley screaming. Then nothing.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was like watching something out of a movie, only it was all horrifically real. The ground rolled like a giant wave beneath Haley’s feet. She clutched Digger close to her body, struggling just to remain upright, but the ground literally was pulled out from under her, sending her sprawling to the road. Digger popped loose, but Haley managed to snag the leash and wound it around her arm, clinging to it like a lifeline. Only she was very much afraid there was no such thing anymore. For any of them.
She managed to get to her knees. Recon was beside her, barking wildly at the garage. Haley watched in an oddly detached way as the surreal happened right in front of her. Her garage actually began to tilt, then list to one side, as if drunk. Her mouth opened in soundless horror as it literally shuffled right off its foundation… and moved closer to the edge. Her little stoop was already gone.
“Brett!” she screamed. Recon suddenly leaped beside her and she turned enough to see that the road was beginning to split and buckle behind her, right where the dog had been standing. She looked wildly around her, wondering which way she should go. One step in the wrong direction could mean—
And then it all stopped, just as suddenly as it had begun. It seemed as if the ground had been shifting beneath her for hours, and yet the whole episode had likely lasted less than several seconds.
