Men of courage

by Lori Foster

  Recon was standing just a foot away, no longer barking, but so agitated she was almost vibrating. Digger had burrowed himself beneath Haley, who was still on her hands and knees. Unaware of the scrapes to her knees and bloody cuts on her hands, she finally managed to stand. “Get a grip. Be calm,” she murmured, needing the sound of her own voice. “Think.”

  She took a breath, then another one, then did a slow and complete turn, steeling herself to whatever she might see. She’d made it this far, she wasn’t about to lose it now.

  The road behind her was split from side to side, with giant snaking cracks leading from either side. It wasn’t passable. The only way down was over the edge behind her. And that wasn’t climbable. “Don’t think about that yet,” she schooled herself. Digger jumped against her leg and she slapped her chest. She caught him tightly to her as she finished her turn.

  The garage.

  And then she remembered, and realized she wasn’t as together as she thought. “Brett? Brett!” she screamed. He was inside the garage. What was left of it. “Oh, my God, oh, my God. Brett!” She carefully picked her way closer. There were no cracks between the ground where she stood and the garage. The back corner of which had collapsed and disappeared over the edge beyond. “Stay calm, stay calm.” Digger must have sensed the gravity of the situation, because for once he remained still and compliant in her arms.

  She got within five yards of the two rolling doors. The side door was no longer there. She blanked her mind against the image of Brett standing in that doorway only moments ago, refusing to think the worst. “Brett?”

  She waited, straining to hear any sounds from inside the garage.

  I take full responsibility for this act of idiocy.

  She tried to get Brett’s words out of her mind, tried just as unsuccessfully to squelch the wave of guilt that threatened to drown her. There would be plenty of time for that later. Right now she had to figure out how to check the garage. Brett could be lying in there, trapped, hurt… or worse.

  Then she felt Recon’s nose press against her thigh and turned to find the dog staring up at her expectantly. She had no idea how to command the dog to search, and wasn’t willing to send her inside that tottering building anyway. “He needs help,” she told the dog, rubbing her head, stroking her velvety ears.

  Recon barked, tail wagging, eyes alert, focused, as if waiting for her orders.

  Haley tried to stem the defeating sense of helplessness creeping in on her. Damn it, she wasn’t helpless. She’d carved a whole new life for herself, hadn’t she? A life free of the demands and controls of her family, a life free of lying, stealing lovers, a life free of any commitments save the ones she decided to commit to. Which, right now, was her dog and her business. They were the only partners she needed, the only ones she could handle. As for a warm body in bed at night, well, Digger fulfilled that role as best as he could.

  He wasn’t exactly a strong pair of arms, but at least he was dependable.

  She thought about Brett’s strong arms, his warm mouth on hers. Okay, so maybe she wanted more. And if she’d allowed herself to think about it, she’d have admitted she didn’t want to live alone forever, that she would want to be with someone again. Someday. And Brett was definitely the first man to even make her think about that day. But this was hardly the time or place to consider—

  Recon barked again, panting heavily as her gaze flipped from garage to Haley, back and forth, as she waited. Waited for Haley to do something. And Haley realized that the time of being only accountable for herself and her dog had ended the moment she’d made the mad dash up the side of this mountain.

  She turned to Recon and commanded, “Sit. Stay.” She didn’t remember the hand signals Brett had used with the command, but apparently she didn’t need them as Recon planted her butt obediently on the ground. Haley carefully avoided looking past her, to the snaking cracks and crevices that snaked through what had been her road. All she could do was pray there were no more aftershocks until she got them all off this godforsaken mountain. What the hell had she been thinking coming up here?

  Just then Digger licked her chin, as if reminding her that at least one creature was thankful for her rash decision. She sighed, hugging him close, suddenly feeling very near to tears. Which would help no one at the moment.

  She sniffled once, pasted a determined look on her face and told Digger in no uncertain terms, “Keep still.”

  The dog observed her solemnly, which for a Jack Russell was akin to a miracle. It was only a shame he wouldn’t sit and stay like Recon. She wanted her arms free, her hands free, but there was nothing to tie him to. The trees were across the road, on the other side of the giant cracks.

  “All right,” she announced, hoping a confident bearing would instill trust in her ragged troops. And herself. “I’m going to try to get around the other side. There’s a small, high window. I’m going to see if I can look inside, figure out if I can roll up the doors without sending the whole thing sliding.”

  Both dogs merely blinked at her. So trusting, she thought. She only hoped she didn’t let them, or Brett, down. After all, they hadn’t let her down when she needed them.

  The left side of the garage was farthest away from the edge. She gingerly, carefully, walked around to that side, testing the ground with each step for stability. Not so much as a piece of gravel shifted. She clung to that hopeful bit of news.

  “Brett?” she called again, now only several feet from the window. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

  Slowly, she made her way to the window, almost tiptoeing the last few steps. The building actually leaned away from her now, listing toward the edge. The tiny window had been high on this side to begin with. Now it was just beyond her height, even on tiptoe. She’d have to jump up and look in. Any other time she wouldn’t have hesitated, but she had no idea what even the impact of her body weight on the earth around the building would do. It was already shifting off its foundations. That couldn’t be good news.

  “Brett?” she shouted again, as loud as she could. Then the air was filled with the sudden thwap-thwap of helicopter blades. She looked up, but between the house and garage, and the tree line beyond the house, her view in the direction of the sound was limited. She debated leaving the garage, moving back out on the driveway, closer to the cracks and crevices, and waving to get their attention, but the sound grew more distant and the chopper was gone without ever coming directly overhead.

  “They’ll be back,” she told Digger. And herself. “And we’ll all be ready for them.” She studied the ground just next to the foundation, then looked up at the window, then at Digger. “I’m going to have to put you down for a moment. Behave.”

  Digger shocked her by actually plopping down on his butt right next to her feet. Apparently he’d had a good enough scare being left in that house during the quake, he wasn’t going anywhere without her. She smiled, her heart filling with the love she had for her little furry companion. “I’m not going anywhere without you either, don’t worry.”

  He tilted his head to the side, as he often did when she spoke to him. It was adorable and endearing and gave her the moment she needed to gather her confidence. “Thanks,” she told him, but firmly looped the leash on her arm nonetheless. Then turned to the window. “Okay, here goes nothing.” She counted to three in her head, then jumped. If the situation had been any less threatening, she’d have laughed at herself for the wimpy, scaredy-cat little hop she took. That wasn’t going to get the job done. And the fewer times she had to jump, the better. But just as she was gearing up for another leap, she heard a sound. From inside the garage. A groan.

  “Brett! Do you hear me?” She jumped then, without having to think twice. She’d only had a split second, but she’d seen him easily. With the power out, she’d expected to have to strain her eyes to see. She hadn’t counted on the fact that the entire other side of the garage was now gone, making lighting a moot issue.

  Brett was sprawled dangerously close
to the edge. It was hard to see all of him as one of her large workbenches had toppled over in front of him.

  “Don’t move,” she shouted, unsure of how groggy he was. Apparently something had come flying at him, or he’d fallen and hit his head. Whatever, it looked as if he’d been knocked out. “Stay very still. Help will come soon.” She hoped. She wanted to jump up and look in again, but didn’t want to pound the ground any more than necessary. “Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

  There was a grumble, followed by a few choice swearwords that had her smiling even as she worried about him. “I’m—I’m okay.”

  He didn’t sound okay. She’d only been reunited with him for a matter of hours, but the Brett Gannon she knew hadn’t changed that much. His voice was strained, tense, not the usual calm, smooth, full-of-confidence tone she easily associated with him. Of course, under the circumstances, that was to be expected, but she still sensed something more was wrong. What more wrong does he need? Trapped in a building half-gone, the rest ready to slide away at a moment’s notice?

  She ignored her little voice and concentrated on his. “Can you move or are you trapped?”

  A few seconds passed and she worried that maybe he’d blacked out again. Then she heard, “I’m not trapped.” She breathed a sigh of relief, then he added, “But I can’t move all that well. My ankle is—not right.”

  Not right. “Broken not right or sprained not right?”

  There was a pause, then another string of swearwords. “Sprained,” he called.

  My ass, she thought, but hoped he was telling the truth, for his sake. “Do you think either of the roll doors would move up enough for you to slide yourself out?”

  “Not worth the risk,” he called back.

  She bit back the hopelessness that rose in her again. He sounded steadier, which was a good thing. Better to stay focused on the positive things. Now she just had to figure out how to get him the hell out of there before another aftershock hit. She tried not to think about the fact that standing where she was at the moment was no great guarantee of safety, either.

  “Are you okay?” he called. “Recon? Digger?”

  “Yeah, we’re all fine. Your dog is worried about you.”

  “Just don’t let her in here after me.”

  “I won’t. She’s a good dog, well trained, like you said. Brett, listen, I’m so—”

  “Don’t. I chose to come in here. I knew an aftershock could happen. It’s my fault for not getting us off this mountain the moment we had Digger in hand.”

  “We’d have only been a few yards down the road and it’s split all to hell now,” she said. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

  “I’ve gotten into worse. It was my decision.”

  There was no point in arguing about it, she decided. They both needed to focus on a solution. “What do you want me to do?” she called.

  “Keep me company,” he said. “That helicopter will be back here soon enough.”

  So, he’d heard the chopper. It was probably what had roused him. “What happened?” she called. “Did you get knocked out?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I have a lump on my head that says I did. But I’ll live.”

  She heard the grin in his voice and wondered how he could joke at a time like this. But, then again, maybe this was the best time to keep spirits up.

  “My folks have always said I was hardheaded. I guess they were right.”

  She heard a rustling sound inside the garage. “Be careful,” she called.

  “Yep,” he responded, then whistled. “Boy, now this is what I call living on the edge.”

  “Ha, ha, very funny. We should be figuring out how to get you out of there.”

  “There is no getting me out of here. The only way I’m going is by chopper. If I could just find my damn radio—”

  “Do you want me to try to make some kind of signal?” She heard more rustling. “What are you doing?”

  “Strapping my ankle. I have some stuff in my bag. I hope you don’t mind if I help myself to some of your supplies in here to shore it up with. What do you do with rebar anyway?”

  She couldn’t help it. She found herself smiling. “Please. Take what you need. I use the rebar for support structures.”

  “I thought you made jewelry. What kind of jewelry requires support structures?” She heard several grunts, then a few more swearwords. Then, “Ah, there it is. Figures.”

  “What?”

  “My radio. It must have flipped out of its holder when I got tossed around like a rag doll. It’s… well, let’s just say it’s beyond reach.”

  Haley could only hope he meant beyond reach inside the garage somewhere. She didn’t want to think that he was dangling out over the edge, looking down the mountainside. Although she wouldn’t put it past him.

  “So, when did you start up your jewelry business?” he asked conversationally, as if they were out to dinner somewhere and not in the middle of a life-threatening disaster.

  But then again, maybe he wasn’t as calm as he sounded. He had to be in pain, and regardless of his training, dangling over a cliff was never go-ing to be a casual thing to deal with. Maybe the distraction of conversation would help.

  “Ah, about two years ago.”

  “Is that how long you’ve been back out here? I thought you went back east after college.”

  “I did.” She really didn’t want to go into her life story, certain he wasn’t really interested. “Things didn’t go as I’d hoped and I needed a fresh start. So I guess I came back to the place where the memories were the best.”

  “Good memories, huh? I guess Sean would be glad to hear that.”

  “How is he? Still with the Marshal’s service?”

  “Yep, they’ve been married for eight years now. No kids. I keep on him about getting a dog, but they like being alone, just the two of them. Him and his duty to God and country.”

  Haley had to laugh. It didn’t surprise her to hear that Sean was still single. He would never be dedicated to anything as completely as he was to his job. “You’re one to talk. Unless—” She hadn’t even thought about that, and gave a little dry smile at her momentary fantasy of being held in his arms on a more permanent basis, kissed with that smart mouth of his. It had only been the shock and fear talking anyway. Still, the thought of him married, with a couple of tow-headed kids running around, sent a little pang to her heart.

  “Nope,” he responded, understanding the question before she asked. “I guess, in a way, I’m just as bad. My job takes a great deal of time. But at least I still know how to have a good time.”

  She thought again about his smile, his bright blue eyes, his easy laugh. Those big strong hands, his hard, fit body. Yeah, I bet you do. She sighed. “At least you got a dog.”

  She heard his laugh, felt a tiny bit better for giving him that, at least.

  “True,” he said. “I’ll have to remind Sean of that the next time I see him.”

  “So, how do your parents handle having two of their kids in such dangerous occupations?” Both he and Sean had been to an Ivy League school, and yet he was in rescue and Sean worked for the government. Some parents would have a hard time with that. A fact she knew all too well. She was using her business degree, just on a very small scale, with a company consisting of one employee. Her. Definitely not the dominate-and-conquer method of doing business the rest of the Brubakers considered a mandate. And yet it didn’t bother her that her degree was essentially gathering dust while she made jewelry for a living. Those four years had given her a whole lot more than a degree. That had been the least of what she’d gained. But there was no telling that to her family. She’d eventually given up trying and walked away.

  “You know my folks,” Brett said, “they’re just happy we’re well adjusted and earning an honest living.”

  Haley nodded, knowing he spoke the truth. She wondered if he had any idea how lucky he was. “What about your younger brother, your two sisters? Are they all done with school now?”r />
  “Clay is just now out of college,” he said. “Baby of the family with a degree. Who’d a thunk it, huh?”

  “Did he go to Stanford, too?”

  “Nah. He stuck close to home. Where Mom could still spoil him. Brat.”

  But he’d said it affectionately, and it made Haley remember her time spent with his boisterous family. Used to the cool reserve and carved-in-stone Brubaker rules of decorum and behavior, the Gannons had intimidated her with their easy familiarity and gregarious natures. But they had ignored her unease and sucked her right into the chaos. She’d been overwhelmed, but also fascinated. And thankful that they didn’t give her a hard time for her less than natural ability to return even their casual affection. Although she’d done her best. And that had always been good enough for Gus and Marie Gannon.

  “And your sisters?” she asked, enjoying the trip down memory lane. She had so few good ones, and it had been a long time since she’d recalled this particular part of her life. And it helped her ignore, for a few moments anyway, that Mother Nature had just tried to swallow her whole.

  “One married, with a baby girl on the way.”

  “Isabel?” She was the oldest Gannon, older than Sean by a couple of years and the definite mini-matriarch of the family. Although Marie did a formidable job on her own.

  “Nope, my younger sister Carly. Izzy is still single. I swear, she makes Sean look relaxed and laid-back. Talk about workaholic. I’m pretty sure it’s her picture, not Sean’s in the dictionary. Although maybe they have them both, side by side.”

  Haley laughed, then moved back from the side of the garage, around to the front, getting as close as she felt she could. She could hear him better that way. She sat on the ground, pulled Digger into her lap, then motioned Recon over. She loped over in her easy, graceful trot, and when Haley said “Down,” she immediately dropped and lay by her side.

  “Haley?”

  “I’m here. Just repositioning the troops.”

  “You know, my family missed you. Your name still comes up occasionally.”

  She snorted. “It does not.”