HisBootsUnderHerBed (12 page)

D
evastated, Rory watched her father stagger off into the trees.

It wasn’t even noon yet and he’d already had too much to drink. And nothing to eat.

He never would have said those nasty things to her if he wasn’t drunk. He was alone too much. At least in a town, he was able to play cards or talk to others. Here there was no one but her, and she’d spent all her time in the mine until Garth had convinced her to give it up. Maybe Pop was right; maybe Garth wanted them out of there so he could have it for himself.

If only Pop would turn to Garth for companionship. Garth had a positive attitude about everything, and it would do her father good to be with him. Instead, he rejected Garth.

It was clear he suspected the attraction between her and Garth, and was probably jealous—or downright afraid—that he no longer would be the only man in her life.

I’m wise to you, Pop. But don’t worry. No man could ever take the place in my heart that you hold.

And because of her love for him, she no longer could sit by and watch him destroy himself. Somehow she had to find where he hid the whiskey. She’d search the mine, and if she was lucky, she’d find it before Pop came back.

Rory hurried inside. Even in daylight, it was too dark to see beyond a few feet. She lit a lantern and carefully went through every one of their packs of clothing and supplies again. When she finished with that, on hands and knees she checked the hollowed-out corners of the mine to see if he might have dug a hole and buried the bottles. That, too, resulted in no success.

The only other area to be checked was the tunnel that Henry Fraser had dug and fortified.

Hunched down, Rory ran her hands along each side of the wall and up the posts he’d erected to shore up the ceiling. They all appeared to be undisturbed since their arrival.

After a tedious inch-by-inch inspection, she reached the last post. A few feet beyond it lay the pick she’d been using, and the few feet of dirt she had managed to dig through.

The lantern started to flicker and would probably burn out in minutes, so she would have to abandon her search. Frustrated, she grabbed the pick and gave the ground a solid whack.

Rory cried out as the ground gave way beneath her. The pick and lantern dropped out of her hands and she fell into a deep hole.

Fortunately she landed on the pile of soft, unpacked earth that had collapsed, but the fall knocked the breath out of her and she lay gasping, unable to move.

When she finally had enough breath to sit up, she groped for the lantern lying on its side. There was hardly enough candle wax remaining to keep it lit, and she held it up and looked around.

The hole was at least twenty feet deep, and she could barely make out the rim above, much less climb up to reach it. It was about six feet across.

Then something in the far corner caught her attention. Careful not to spill one drop of the precious wax, she crawled over to what appeared to be a pile of clothing. When she reached it, she saw that it was the skeletal remains of a man dressed in a plaid shirt and gray trousers.

Rory screamed, dropped the lamp, and lurched and stumbled back through the dirt into the opposite corner as the scattered drops of remaining wax wavered into extinction. She clawed at the wall, trying to do the impossible and scale it, then fell back. Frightened and sobbing, she huddled in the darkness and tried to hang on to her sanity.

“Garth,” she sobbed. “Please help me, Garth. Please help me!”

After returning to his camp, Garth realized that he should have had it out with the old man once and for all. If that was part of a human footprint in the trees this morning, it could mean that he was correct last night: someone had been lurking in the shadows at the O’Grady mine. Obviously someone without a weapon, because there had been plenty of opportunities to use one in the past week. Neither Paddy nor Rory carried a handgun, so it would be easy to overpower either one of them. So was there really a threat?

“But one thing I know for certain, Saddle,” Garth said later as he bedded down for the night. “Before I leave this mountain, I’m going to face down that wily old man and tell him what I really think of him for what he’s done to his daughter.”

Throughout the night, Garth’s struggle with his conscience made sleep impossible. He would not let Rory continue to go on like this. He had hoped for their sake that Paddy would have been well enough to travel by now. But no such luck. So he made up his mind to tell her the truth about the real mine at once.

Garth got up at dawn, built a fire, and put on a pot of coffee. After a quick breakfast, he saddled Boots and rode to the O’Grady mine.

Arriving at the camp, Garth was surprised not to see a campfire. Rory was an early riser.

He called out her name several times but there was no answer. He didn’t like it. His instincts told him something had to be wrong. He went over and felt the campfire ashes. They were cold, and from the looks of them, at least a day old. That would mean she hadn’t even built a fire last night. His fears increased when he saw Saddle sniffing at a frying pan lying nearby. The pan was dirty and the dog was eating the remains of some fried fish. Rory would never have left food lying outside overnight, for fear it would attract animals.

Now he was certain something serious had happened to her—and he feared the worst. That fear increased further when he saw the flowers she had picked the previous morning lying in a wilted heap on the ground. Whatever had happened, she hadn’t had time to even put them in water, so it would have to have been shortly after he left.

All kinds of fears began to whirl through his head. Bandits had snatched her. A wild animal had carried her away. He even had an image of an angry and drunken Paddy harming her. The most hopeful thing he could think of, as dangerous as it might be, was that she might have taken off and gone back to the mission.

But no matter how angry she was, she wouldn’t desert her father. If the camp had been attacked by bandits, there would be more destruction—and their two donkeys and the burro were there. As for a wild animal? There wasn’t a sign of blood anywhere, so it was unlikely an animal was the culprit.

That left one possibility: Paddy. Even in his weakened state, had the man been so drunk and out of control that he had harmed her? Where was he, anyway? His shouting for Rory surely would have wakened Paddy. Could both of them…His glance swung to the mine. Dreading what he might find, he walked slowly to the entrance and went in.

Loud snoring led him to Paddy, asleep in one of the dim corners. There was no sign of Rory. Garth went over and awakened him.

Snorting, the man sat up. “What—”

“Paddy, where’s Rory?” he bit out.

“Did I not tell you to leave us alone, Mr. Fraser.”

“Where is she? What have you done to her?”

“If me daughter’s not outside, then she’s in the tunnel.”

Garth released him and went over and glanced in. “It’s pitch dark in there.”

“Then she must be out gathering wood.”

Garth went back outside. There was still no sign of Rory, and the pile of wood stacked neatly near the entrance made it unlikely she was gathering more.

Paddy came outside yawning and scratching at his belly. He smelled like a brewery.

Disgusted, Garth asked, “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Don’t remember. Where’s the coffee? I need me coffee in the morning.”

Garth studied the ground for prints, but saw nothing that reflected a struggle. “Damn it, Paddy, think! When was the last time you saw her?”

Paddy went over, sat down on a huge rock, and buried his head in his hands. “How’s a man to think when me head’s aching something fierce?”

“And drowning in whiskey. Paddy, I swear—sick or not—if you’ve harmed one hair on her head, I’ll drown you in something other than whiskey.”

Paddy dropped his hands and glared at him. “I’d no more lay a hand on me darling girl than I would a babe in arms. I’ll not listen to another of your accusing words, Garth Fraser.”

“Come on, Saddle, let’s check out the trees. You’ll be more helpful than he will be.” Paddy got up and followed him anyway.

For the next thirty minutes, they searched the whole area for what Garth feared would be her body. When they returned to camp, Paddy was near to collapsing and both men were near their wit’s end.

“For God’s sake, Paddy, you’ve got to try and think back. When was the last time you saw her?”

“I can remember coming back here.”

“What time was that?”

“I don’t know. I’d fallen asleep in the woods and it was dark, and there was no campfire. I thought it was strange ’cause Rory always set one on the entrance at night. Then I figured she was still mad over a fight we had.”

“Well, did you speak to her?”

“No. It was too dark to see anything, and I thought she was sleeping.”

“After being gone all day, it didn’t occur to you to check to make sure?”

“I thought of it, but I was feeling poorly. I couldn’t find the lantern where she always put it when she was through in the tunnel, so I laid down and went to sleep.”

Garth jerked up his head. “Where is it?”

“What?”

“The lantern. Where is the lantern?” Garth quickly stood. “Give me some candles. I’m going to look in that tunnel.”

Paddy got a packet of candles from the mine, then Garth lit one and stuck the others in his pocket.

“You’re too big for the tunnel. You’ll have to stoop to get through it,” Paddy warned.

But Garth was already on his way.

Rory opened her eyes. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Days? From the time she had begun dropping in and out of sleep, she had lost all sense of time, alone down here in the darkness.

She buried her head in her hands. Surely by now Pop would have noticed she was gone. Could she have been down here for only a few hours? No, it had been longer than that. It had been hours before she had even fallen asleep the first time.

What if Pop was too drunk to even notice she was gone? Still worse, what if something had happened to him when he’d stomped off? He might have encountered a bear or mountain lion. Or bandits may have returned and killed him. He could be lying dead up there even now! Oh God, what if their last moments together had ended in a quarrel? And how long would it be before Garth came looking for her?

She held back a sob.

She was cold and her legs felt cramped, so she stood and stamped her feet to get the circulation going.

“All right, Rory, get a hold on yourself and think of what you can do. You’ve been in worse situations than this and managed to get out of them. So start using the common sense you were born with.

“First off: as gruesome as it is, you know that thing over in that corner cannot harm you.

“Secondly: it takes a very long time to die of hunger, so it’s a pretty good guess that Garth or Pop will discover you long before that can happen.

“Third, think of what would make matters worse, and don’t do those things.” She continued to stamp and shake her feet. “If you move around too much, the dirt might give way again and you’d drop deeper, or even get buried alive. So try to remain as still as possible.” She stopped stamping and quickly sat down.

“Just be patient and wait for Garth to show up. Take your mind off your situation until he does. Try singing; that always helps to take away your troubles.”

Rory started off with “Oh! Susanna,” then followed it up with “The Old Gray Mare” and “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

When she got through those, she turned to some more Stephen Foster songs, but by the time she finished “My Old Kentucky Home” and “Beautiful Dreamer,” her optimistic mood had sunk to depression, and she found herself wiping away tears as she sang “Abide With Me,” and followed it up with “Nearer My God to Thee.”

She felt as if she were singing her own dirge.

She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry from singing.

“Another thing, Rory, is that you could die of thirst before anyone found you, and
that
is your worst problem at this time.”

Well, you just can’t sit here doing nothing and wait for someone to come along, like your poor friend over in that corner must have done.”

Every detail of his remains was vivid in her memory. His boots, a plaid shirt, gray trousers. The horrific-looking empty sockets that had once housed his eyes. In those terrifying seconds she recalled seeing his hat, which must have been dislodged during the fall, lying next to his head. And the…

“My God! Why didn’t I think of this before?”

Did she dare attempt it in the darkness, or should she wait for help?

The Lord helps those who help themselves.

Before she lost her courage, she crawled over to the opposite corner and began to grope for her objective.

Reflexively, she jerked her hand away when it made contact with something. Then she forced herself to reach out again and felt a boot. Her hand trembled as she traced the trouser leg up a skeletal leg until her fingers touched the object she had remembered—a gun belt. Where there was a gun belt, there was surely a gun.

Rory groped for the handle and gingerly pulled a gun out of the holster, then she crawled back cautiously to her corner.

Drawing on the little knowledge she had about guns, Rory cocked the gun, raised her arm above her head, and pulled the trigger.

G
arth was nearing the end of the tunnel with no sign of Rory or a cave-in, when suddenly there was a blast so loud it shook the timbers, and he was afraid the ceiling would come down on him. When the dust settled, he realized it had not been an explosion, but a pistol shot that had come from somewhere ahead. With renewed hope, he crawled forward.

He could see only a few feet ahead, but there was no missing the gaping hole.

“Rory,” he shouted. “Rory, are you down there?”

She jerked up her head. “Garth! Garth, is that really you?” she cried joyously.

“Honey, are you hurt?” he yelled.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m able to move, but I’m very thirsty.”

“Hang on.” Garth pulled the package of candles out of his pocket, sank them into the dirt around the rim as far as he could reach, then lit them. Now he was able to see her below, and she was no longer alone in the darkness.

“Honey, just stay still. I have to go back and get some rope.”

“Please hurry, Garth. There’s a dead man down here, too.”

“A dead man?”

“His remains. Just hurry and get me out of here.”

“I’ll be back as quickly as I can.” He skimmed back down the tunnel. The short distance seemed like miles.

“I’ve found her, Paddy,” he shouted when he emerged. “She’s unhurt but fell down in a deep hole. I need some rope to get her up.”

He’d never seen the old man move so fast.

He shook his head when Paddy handed him a cutoff piece of rope. “This isn’t long enough. The pit’s about about twenty feet deep.”

“That’s the longest piece we’ve got. What if you lower me down, and I jump the rest of the way? Rory could stand on me shoulders then,” Paddy said.

“It’s too risky to tie pieces together. And there’s no telling how firm that ground is down there, and your additional weight could start another cave-in when you jump. Besides, you’re not in condition right now for that kind of activity. There has to be some way…I’ve got it! The mule reins are even stronger than a rope. Quick, let’s get them.”

Within minutes, Garth had crawled back into the tunnel. He tied a canteen to the end of one rein and lowered it down to her.

“Drink it slowly, honey,” he warned when she reached for it greedily.

When she finished drinking, she slung the straps of the canteen over her shoulder. “What do you want me to do?”

“Are you wearing a belt?”

“No.”

“Damm! It would have been something to tie the reins to. I guess you’ll have to tie them around your waist, and that’s going to hurt you.”

Rory drew a shuddering sigh. “I know where I can get a belt.” She crawled over the dirt and tried not to look as she unbuckled the belt and pulled it through the loops of the deflated trousers.

“I need a knife,” she said when she put the belt around her waist.

“What for, Rory?”

“To punch another hole in this belt. It’s too big for my waist.”

He tossed down his knife, and she quickly worked a hole through the leather, then stuck the knife in her pocket.

“Are you ready now?” he asked.

“I guess so.”

Garth stretched the middle of the rein across his back and under his arms, then dropped the loose ends of the rein down to her. “I want you to firmly tie those ends to the belt—not the buckle, since the leather will be much stronger.”

When she did what he told her, the rein was tautly looped under his arms and the two ends to her belt.

She gave a shaky laugh. “Garth, which one of us is the head of the horse and the other the rear end?”

“I think we’re both horses’s rear ends, or we wouldn’t be here to begin with. Now this is where it gets harder, hon.”

“You think taking a belt off a skeleton is easy, Fraser?”

“If you don’t stop being so feisty, I’m going to leave you down there and throw you a piece of raw meat every now and then,” he teased.

Garth admired her courage and grit. The woman had taken a bad fall, spent most of a day and a half in total darkness with a skeleton lying a few feet away, and still had the spirit to make light of it.

“This is going to be very physical. Are you sure you didn’t injure your legs?”

“Do knees knocking together count?”

“It could help. Have you ever climbed a rope?”

“No, but I’ve climbed trees when I was younger,” she called up.

“That’s good news, because you have to climb this wall.”

“Garth, trees have branches to hoist yourself up on.”

“The hoisting’s my part. But I have no way to get any leverage, so you’re going to have to use those gorgeous legs of yours.”

“How would you know what my legs look like?”

“Are you forgetting I had a full view of them when you were bathing at the waterfall?”

“I’m glad to hear it was only my legs you were looking at,” she said drolly.

“How could you have doubted it?”

The light banter seemed to have worked. The earlier fright and hysteria were gone from her voice, so it was time to attempt getting her out of there.

“You’re doing great, honey. Now, there’s no headroom for me to stand up and pull you, but I can sit down and back up—and as I do, you’ll have to walk up that wall. I want you to grasp both of those reins together now, and after I get you several feet off the ground, start climbing stiff-legged, just as if you were walking. It’s hard, but it can be done. When you get close enough for me to reach you, I’ll pull you up the rest of the way by hand.”

“Now I really know which of us is the rear end, Captain Fraser.”

Garth sat down, took the two reins firmly in hand, and began to pull. He had to raise her off the ground high enough so she could start climbing. The effort was strenuous without leverage, and the progress measured in inches, not feet.

The muscles in his shoulders and arms were already feeling the exertion when he felt the change on the reins as she began to use her legs. With every few feet of progress, he shortened the rein. He peered over the top and saw she was about three-quarters of the way up, but his muscles had begun to feel like putty.

“Time out,” he yelled. With one hand firmly grasping the reins, he brushed aside the middle candles, then reached down and grasped her by the wrist and hauled her over the top.

It drained his remaining strength, and he collapsed on his back with Rory on top of him. They were both too breathless and exhausted to move, but continued to lie there gasping for breath.

And that’s when all the strength and bravado she had been struggling to maintain completely gave out. She began to sob, clutching him as if she were drowning. He tightened his arms around her, and as much as he wanted to hold her and rock her in his arms, the area was too confined to allow it.

“Come on, baby,” he said gently. “Let’s get out of here before the whole damn tunnel collapses. You think you can make it?” She nodded, and he could see how she was struggling to regain her control. “When we get out of this rat hole, you can sit down and have a good cry. So slip past me, and you go first.” He wiped the tears off her cheeks and grinned. “Only don’t move too fast, because we’re still harnessed together.”

She managed a game smile, and between sniffles she teased, “So this time
you’ll
be the rear end.” Then she squeezed past him and started to crawl her way out on her hands and knees.

Garth followed on his hands and knees, enjoying the view every inch of the way.

Once they were out of the tunnel, he freed himself to enable Paddy to kiss and hug his daughter.

Her hair and clothes were covered with dirt and grime, her face streaked and muddied where her tears had blended with the dirt.

After the O’Gradys’ tearful reunion was over, Garth said, “Let’s get you back to the waterfall, where you can get rid of that dirt.”

“If you’re going, I’ll be coming with you,” Paddy declared.

Garth shook his head, unable to believe the man was still on that theme when his daughter was still shaking from her brush with death. He lifted Rory onto the front of the saddle, then climbed up, put his arms around her, and pulled her back against him. He held her in the circle of his arms all the way to the waterfall.

When they reached his camp, Garth sat her down and got down on his knees and removed her boots and stockings.

“Oh, how I wish I could sink into a nice hot bath right now,” she said wistfully.

“I wish I could think of a way for you to do it, honey. We don’t have a large enough kettle to boil the water, or a tub or barrel for you. But I have thought of a way to at least give you some privacy. I’ll sink poles on each side of the trail, stretch a rope between them, and then drape a blanket on it.”

“I guess that would be better than nothing,” she said.

“Depends on who you ask,” he said with a wink.

Garth went off to find a couple of saplings that would serve his purpose. By the time he got back, Paddy had arrived on his mule.

“Will you build a fire, Paddy, so we can cook some grub while Rory bathes? She must be damned hungry.”

Paddy set to the task while Garth trimmed off the sapling’s leaves.

When he finished, he drove the poles into the ground, tied on the rope, and draped the blanket over it.

“Voilà, mademoiselle,” he said, with a courtly bow and dramatic flourish of his arm. “Your bath awaits.” Then he whispered aside to her, “Could you use some help scrubbing your back?”

“I can handle it, thank you,” she said with a saucy backward glance. Rory scooted behind the blanket and shed her clothes.

Once she got used to the cold spray, it was a relief to rinse away the dirt. She took the opportunity to launder her clothing as well. The hot sunshine quickly evaporated most of the moisture off her skin, and she donned dry clothing and rejoined Garth, who was kneeling at the fire.

“I feel about ten pounds lighter.”

Garth looked up at her and grinned. “You looked real cute with those muddy streaks on your face.”

“Where’s Pop?” she asked.

He nodded toward the trees. “Sleeping like a baby. He was done in. Here’s your boots; I cleaned them for you.”

“Thank you, Garth. You didn’t have to do that.”

“And I heated a pan of water to soap that dirt out of your hair.”

“You’re going to spoil me. I’m not used to being waited on.”

“You deserve to be, honey. Sit down on that rock over there. I’ll wash your hair, but you better take off that clean shirt or it’ll get wet.”

Rory hesitated for a moment, then unbuttoned the shirt and slipped out of it. She grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl.

Garth poured warm water over her head and began to massage her scalp as he worked the soap into suds. It felt wonderful. His hands felt so strong, yet so gentle. She thought of how frightened she had been in the mine, until she’d felt his hand grip her wrist in a firm hold. Only then had she been certain she was safe, she’d known he’d never let go. And even now, as comforting as his touch felt, it was equally exciting. And she yearned for both. Rory closed her eyes as the feel of his fingers sent currents of desire spiraling through her.

He poured more of the heated water over her head to rinse out the suds, then pulled the towel off her shoulders and dried her hair vigorously.

“There, it’s all clean and shiny again.”

Their gazes locked as he reached out a hand and helped her to her feet. His eyes were filled with desire; hers with yearning.

If only she could let him make love to her. She had waited so long for someone like him. If it was wrong, why else would they have been brought together on this mountain? It had to be right.

Kiss me, Garth
, her eyes conveyed in an unspoken message.
Please kiss me
.

A thousand pinpoints of pleasure sparked through her body as he slid his hands up her bare arms. “Rory, I—”

“So I close me eyes for a moment, Fraser, and you’re up to your tricks again,” Paddy accused, jolting her back to the world.

“I can’t
believe
this!” Garth mumbled. “I washed her hair, Paddy. That should be obvious, even to you.”

“And if it weren’t for me watchful eye, what would have been next?”

“Where was that
watchful
eye yesterday, when Rory needed you?” Garth turned away, whistled for Saddle, and disappeared into the trees.

“Pop, why do you deliberately antagonize him?” Rory asked. “We’re indebted to him. He’s saved your life, and this is the second time he’s saved mine.”

“So in payment, you’re willing to let him have his way with you?”

“If that
ever
happens, it will be because I
want
it to happen. I’m a woman, Pop, not a child! It never bothered you when I worked in the Grotto. What do you think those men I danced with there were saying to me? They weren’t discussing the weather. If I do let Garth make love to me, it will be
my
decision.”

“I’ll not hear of it, Rorleen Catherine.”

“You have nothing to say about it, Pop.” She snatched the blanket off the line and wrung out her wet clothes, then stretched them out on the foliage to dry.

Two hours later, Garth returned leading their other mule and the burro.

“Garth, what are you doing?” Rory asked.

“I packed up your camp and sealed up that mine. It’s not safe. The whole place could cave in.”

Paddy snorted. “And you’re hoping we’ll leave, I’m sure.”

“I’ve made no secret of that.”

“And you’re staying; is that it?”

“I’ve only stayed here to give Rory a hand getting you back to the mission. My God, man, she could have been killed in that cave-in! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“She can go, but I’m staying,” Paddy said adamantly.

“Stay and break your fool neck, if that’s what you want, but I’m taking Rory out of here.”

“Will both of you stop this!” Rory cried. “I’ve had all the squabbling I can take. Pop, I want to leave, and you’re too sick to remain. That mine isn’t safe, and I will never go back in there again. Isn’t this all hard enough, without the two of you snarling at each other like a couple of dogs over a bone? You both could take a lesson from Saddle. He never makes a sound.”