Only You (23 page)

But twenty?

There’s no help for it. Grab Slater, cut a deal, and get on with it. No matter how bad it looks for me, what Reno’s facing is worse, trapped in there without light or food or water.

And he never liked the tunnels. He feels the same way about them that I do about those eyebrow trails over slickrock.

I’ve got to get to him soon. I can’t leave him there alone.

Eve refused to think about the possibility that Reno was already dead under tons of rubble, buried as the slave child had been buried, one more sacrifice to the golden tears of the sun god. Eve was certain she would know if he were dead. She would feel it just as surely as she felt her own life now.

Wiping her eyes against her sleeve, she looked again at the camp. A swirl of pale gray caught her attention. Jericho Slater still wore the wrist-length cape of the Confederate army. The white planter’s hat was also familiar; he hadn’t removed it even when he sat at her table to play cards.

I wonder how Slater feels about tunnels. Hope he hates them. Because until Reno is free, Slater is going to be spending a lot of time in the dark.

Smiling grimly, Eve eased back off the slate overlook and into the cover of the trees.

As soon as the green boughs folded around her, a man’s hand shot out and clamped over her mouth. Simultaneously a powerful arm clamped around her waist, pinning her arms to her body. Though she was holding a shotgun, she had no chance to use it.

An instant later Eve was lifted off her feet, helpless but for her wildly kicking feet.

“Slow down, wildcat,” a deep voice said quietly in Eve’s ear. “It’s Caleb Black.”

Eve went still, then looked over her shoulder.

Caleb’s whiskey-colored eyes looked back at her. The warmth she remembered in his eyes was lacking. He looked just like what Reno had once called him, a dark angel of vengeance.

Eve nodded to show that she understood she was safe. Slowly Caleb set her down. When she was standing on her own feet, he jerked his thumb, silently telling Eve to get deeper into cover.

As soon as she did, another man stepped forward. His hair was the same black as Caleb’s, but the resemblance ended there. Caleb’s hair had a slight curl. Wolfe Lonetree’s was straight as a ruler. His eyes were an indigo so dark as to be nearly black. His face showed the high cheekbones of his Cheyenne mother and the sharply defined mouth
of his Scots father. Though not as big as Caleb or Reno, Wolfe moved with a physical confidence that was more impressive than size alone would have been.

Caleb’s hands moved in sign talk that was as graceful as it was precise. Wolfe nodded and moved past Eve, touching his dark hat in silent greeting as he did. The hand he lifted to his hat was holding two boxes of shells. His other hand was wrapped around two repeating rifles.

Eve stared for an instant, then eased farther back into the trees, pulled by Caleb’s hand on her arm. As soon as it was safe to speak, she did.

“There was a cave-in. Reno’s trapped. There are two guards at the next cascade.”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed. “Is he alive?”

She nodded, unable to say anything for the fear drawing her throat tight.

“Is he hurt?” Caleb asked.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t get to him.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. He couldn’t hear me.”

Caleb didn’t ask how Eve knew Reno was alive. He had seen both the wildness and the soul-deep determination in her eyes.

“I took care of the guards,” Caleb said. “Go back to the marshy area and wait. We’ll be along shortly.”

“But Reno—”

“Go. We can’t do a damn thing for Reno as long as Jericho Slater is settin’ up to shoot us in the back.”

Caleb turned away, then stopped and looked over his shoulder at Eve.

“Rafe Moran is somewhere around here. So if you see a man as big as Reno coming at you, blond hair, easy-moving, with a bullwhip in one hand
and a six-gun in the other, don’t shoot him.”

Numbly Eve nodded.

“There’s a pint-sized redhead called Jessi Lonetree about a mile back down the trail,” Caleb continued. “She’s supposed to stay put, but she might take a notion to come looking for her man after the shooting stops.”

“Jessi? Then that was Wolfe?”

Caleb grinned. “Sure was. Now, go on up to the marsh and wait for us. With Wolfe and a repeating rifle up on that rock preaching to them about the wages of sin, Slater’s boys will soon see the error of their ways. There will be a regular stampede of converts heading down the mountain.”

“I can help.”

“You sure can,” Caleb agreed. “You can get your rump up to the marsh and stay safe. If anything happens to you, no one would know where to look for Reno.”

“Then I’ll go back to the mine. He might be calling for me.”

“Don’t go inside that mine until I’m there,” Caleb said flatly.

Eve opened her mouth to argue.

“I mean it, Eve. I’ll tie you like a chicken for the spit if I have to.”

“But—”

“Get it through your head,” Caleb said roughly, overriding her attempts to speak. “Without you, we don’t have a chance in hell of helping Reno.”

Slowly Eve nodded and turned away, not even noticing the tears that were once again making silver trails through the dirt on her cheeks.

She was halfway up the cascade when Wolfe Lonetree opened up with his rifle. Shot after shot screamed through the high mountain air, echoing back from stone peaks. From below, other rifles
returned fire in a crescendo of noise.

By the time Eve reached the marsh, the rifle shots were coming less frequently. As she climbed the second cascade, a six-gun opened up in measured intervals. Silence returned to the mountain before she reached the tiny valley that held the mine.

Caleb had been right. Slater’s gang hadn’t liked facing Wolfe Lonetree’s lethal skill with a rifle.

“Y
OU’RE
not making sense,” Eve said flatly.

Hands on her hips, she faced the three hard-looking men and the slender red-headed woman who had gathered in front of the mine.

“You’re the one who isn’t making sense,” Caleb said. “First you were going to take on Slater’s bunch with a shotgun, and now you’re talking about going down alone into that hellhole and—”

“I went after Slater because I didn’t care if I killed some of his gang digging out Reno,” Eve interrupted. “You have a wife and child waiting for you.”

She turned to Wolfe. “And you have a wife right here who needs you. I’m the only one who knows how to get to Reno, and I don’t have a soul who looks to me for anything at all. Besides, there’s only room for one to dig at a time. When I can’t dig anymore, you can draw straws.”

As Eve spun around to go inside, a bullwhip
snaked out and curled tightly around her knees, holding her in place without hurting her in the least.

“Wait up, miss. I’m going with you.”

Eve spun and confronted the big, blond man who smiled and spoke and moved so much like Reno, she could hardly bear to look at him. The color of the eyes was different, gray rather than green, but their catlike tilt and clarity were so similar, it was like a knife in her heart.

And like Reno, Rafe’s eyes could be as cold as winter ice when he was determined to get something.

“Don’t waste my time arguing,” Rafe said bluntly. “Either I go with you or I go alone. I’m no stranger to mines and Reno’s trail signs. I’ll find him.”

Eve didn’t doubt it.

“All right,” she said in an aching voice. “I’d be obliged. I’m not nearly as strong in the shoulders as you are.”

Rafe flicked his wrist. The long bullwhip fell away from Eve. Ignoring Wolfe’s and Caleb’s objections, she grabbed a lantern and went into the mine’s entrance. Rafe dropped the whip and followed, pausing only long enough to grab a shovel and a lantern.

Caleb and Wolfe were right behind them, sharing a third lantern between them. Jessi stayed just inside the mouth of the mine with a shotgun, standing guard on the off chance that one of Slater’s Comancheros had run the wrong way when the bullets started flying.

Eve heard the sounds of more than one person following her, looked over her shoulder, and felt warmed. Though there truly wasn’t room for more than one man at a time to dig, it made her feel
better just knowing that so many hands would be available to help.

Rafe ducked lower and lower as the ragged ceiling of the mine came down. At every branching of the tunnel, he noted the signs Reno had left.

Eve went through the big, rockbound tunnel with a speed that set the lantern to swinging. Rafe followed her like a large, muscular shadow. Caleb and Wolfe kept back a bit, marking the branching tunnels in their own way.

A dust as fine as talcum powder still hung in the air back where the collapsed coyote hole cut away from the main tunnel. Rafe took in the place with a single glance. When he saw the pile of gold bars, his eyes widened. He looked swiftly at Eve. She paid no more attention to the gold than she would have to a similar pile of river rocks.

“This goes back about ten feet before it’s blocked,” Eve said, pointing to the coyote hole. “I shouted and shouted, but he didn’t answer.”

Rafe’s mouth thinned, but all he said was, “Let me try it. My voice carries a lot farther than yours.”

Eve nodded tightly and watched as Rafe knelt and set aside the lantern. The coyote hole looked about as inviting as a grave. He glanced down at the shovel. In that narrow opening, he would be lucky to have enough room to use it as a bludgeon.

“Surprised Reno went in here,” Rafe muttered. “He never cared much for dark, tight places.”

“Maybe he never had Spanish gold waiting on the other side,” she said tersely.

“There’s more?” Rafe asked as he crawled over the stacked ingots and into the dark, tight hole.

“Two ingots that we know of. Supposed to be a lot more buried somewhere down here. For all of me, they can stay buried.”

The only sound that came from Rafe was a low
curse as he forced himself over the ingots and into the narrow coyote hole.

Eve sank to her knees and leaned against the cold wall of the tunnel. Distantly she realized that she was trembling. When Caleb touched her shoulder, she started wildly.

Rafe’s deep voice boomed through the coyote hole as he called for Reno. Silence followed. Rafe called again. More silence followed. It was no different the third and fourth time Rafe yelled his brother’s name.

“Cal, Wolfe, cart that gold up to Jessi,” Rafe said after a minute. “It’s just in the way down here.”

The sound of a steel shovel blade ramming into rocky rubble came back through the tunnel as Rafe began to dig.

“You’ll need someone to haul rubble out of your way,” Caleb said.

“It will have to be Eve. Two men just flat won’t fit in here.”

Wolfe bent, shone the lantern into the coyote hole, and began swearing in a combination of Cheyenne and British English.

“He’s right, Cal. The bloody thing fits Rafe like a stone skin.”

Caleb bent, looked, and began picking up the heavy gold ingots, swearing fit to raise blisters on the rock about the connection between fools, gold, and the kind of hell you didn’t have to die to discover.

The rhythm of the shoveling never varied as Rafe dug through loosely piled stones and crumbling rock, pushing the debris to either side of his body and praying that the rest of the coyote hole would hold.

While Rafe bored through the darkness like a grim, living drill, Caleb and Wolfe came and went
until a stack of big ingots grew at the mouth of the mine. Eve barely noticed the absence of the bars except that it made her job easier as she crawled into the hole and dragged debris out, giving Rafe a bit more room to work.

“Send Eve when you need someone to spell you,” Wolfe said as he picked up the last ingot.

Rafe grunted an answer and kept digging.

In time, the first spectral flickers of lantern light gleamed through the rubble piled in front of Rafe.

“I see light!” Rafe called back.

“Is Reno there?” Eve called.

“Can’t tell. The ceiling keeps—”

Rafe’s words were cut off by a shower of stones. He cursed in the kind of searing invective learned in the toughest ports on earth. And as he cursed, he dug, knowing with every stroke of his shovel that he could be digging his own grave.

No matter how hard Rafe dug, he could not keep a hole open that was big enough to crawl through. The grim set of his mouth when he wriggled back out into the tunnel where Eve waited told her more than she wanted to know.

“The more I dig, the farther away I get,” Rafe said bluntly, wiping sweat from his eyes. “I got the biggest rocks out of the way, but the small stuff keeps coming down. It’s like digging through a riverbed. I can barely open up enough space for a cat, much less for a man my size.”

“Any sign of Reno?”

Rafe looked at Eve’s shadowed golden eyes and pinched face. He stroked her tangled hair with surprising gentleness.

“I got the shoved through to air twice,” Rafe said. “More stuff came down each time. I shouted through the opening, but…”

He looked away, unable to confront the anguished
hope in Eve’s eyes.

She didn’t ask for any more information. If Reno had called out in return, Rafe would have heard.

“Well, we’re better off than we were,” Rafe said. “At least we know there’s new air going in through the hole, and enough space on the other side to echo when I shout, and there was enough air all along to keep Reno’s lantern burning.”

Eve nodded, but her attention was on the coyote hole.

“If he wasn’t killed outright,” Rafe continued, “he’s probably knocked out or in another part of the mine, looking for a way out.”

“Shall I get Caleb or Wolfe?”

“No,” Rafe said curtly. “You were dead right. That hole is no place for a family man.”

“Rest for a few minutes,” Eve said in a shaking voice. “There’s water in the canteen. It’s yesterday’s, but I don’t suppose you’ll mind.”

Rafe’s teeth were a white flash against his gritand sweat-streaked face.

“I sure won’t,” he agreed.

He set aside the shovel and went to the canteen, which Eve had put back up the tunnel, out of the way.

As soon as Rafe picked up the canteen, Eve grabbed the shovel and scrambled into the coyote hole. By the time he turned around and realized what she had done, she was beyond his reach.

“Come back here!” Rafe yelled. “It’s too dangerous. That ceiling is set to come down at the first excuse!”

Eve’s only answer was, “I can get through any hole a cat can. Ask Reno. He calls me
gata.”

Rafe slammed his open hand against the rock wall and swore viciously.

But despite his anger, he didn’t crawl into the
coyote hole and drag Eve back. If she could get through the opening, she was Reno’s best chance of survival.

And if Reno was dead, Eve could find out that, too, before Caleb or Wolfe got killed trying to dig out a man who was no longer alive.

Eve crawled and clawed her way through the rubble, lured by the haze of lantern light ahead. The last foot was the hardest, for the cave-in all but filled the opening. There was just enough space for her to put one arm and her head through. Using her feet to push, she drove herself through the hole.

Abruptly the ceiling gave way.

For an instant Eve felt a crushing weight. Then a tongue of rubble shot forward, taking her with it. She sprawled across the uneven floor of the tunnel and fought for breath.

The first thing Eve saw was Reno’s lantern. The second was Reno’s head and shoulders sticking out of a pile of rubble left by the series of cave-ins. The third thing she saw was that Rafe had accidentally done what the Spanish had done many times by design; he had dug a new coyote hole connecting to the big tunnel.

Eve didn’t know she was crying Reno’s name until the broken echoes came back at her. Coughing dryly, she pulled her bandanna into place and crawled toward Reno through the swirls of dust stirred by the new cave-in.

“Eve!” Rafe yelled. “Are you all right?”

“I found Reno!”

“Is he alive?”

Eve reached out to Reno, but her hand was shaking so badly, she couldn’t tell if there was a pulse in his neck. Then she saw blood welling slowly from a cut on his forehead.

Distantly Eve became aware of Rafe shouting her name.

“He’s alive!” she yelled back.

“Praise God. Watch out. I’m coming through.”

Moments later another shower of rubble spurted from the unstable wall where coyote holes riddled the old tunnel. Stones as big as Eve’s fist hammered down. One of them struck the lantern, knocking it over and extinguishing it. Another struck Reno, who groaned softly. The remainder of the rocks added another layer to the mound covering him.

“Stop!” Eve yelled. “Rafe, stop! Every time you move, Reno gets buried deeper!”

“All right. I’m stopping. What happened to the light?”

“A stone knocked it over and spilled the fuel.”

Rafe swore.

Eve groped in darkness through her pockets. Finally she found the stub of candle that Reno had insisted she carry in case something happened to her lantern.

Suddenly light from Rafe’s lantern poured through the small opening that was all that remained of the coyote hole.

“Can you see now?” he asked.

“Yes. Wait.”

A match sizzled. Soon a candle flame burned cleanly against the enveloping darkness. Eve crawled deeper into the old tunnel and wedged the base of the candle into a crevice.

“I’ve got light now,” she said.

“How bad is Reno hurt?”

“I don’t know. He’s facedown, buried from his heels to his ribs. He’s got a cut on his forehead.”

Rocks fell and rolled as the mine adjusted to its new shape.

“Can you get him out of reach of another cave-
in?” Rafe asked urgently.

Eve put her hands beneath Reno’s arms and pulled. He groaned again. She closed her eyes and pulled harder.

The rocks covering Reno barely stirred.

“I’ve got to get the rubble off him first,” Eve said.

“Be quick about it. That opening is damned unstable.”

She worked frantically, pushing rocks until Reno was free to his hips.

“Eve?” Rafe called.

“I’ve got all but his legs uncovered.”

“Want me to try to come through and help?”

Even as Rafe spoke, more rocks came raining down on Reno.

“Stop digging!” Eve said frantically.

“I didn’t move!”

Rocks bounced and groanced and rattled.

“Get up the tunnel as far back from the coyote hole as you can,” Rafe ordered.

“But Reno—”

Another wave of rubble lapped out from the unstable wall as a low, grinding sound vibrated through the mine.

“You can’t help him now!” Rafe yelled savagely. “Save yourself!”

As though in a dream, Eve saw the wall shiver and shift minutely as it began to unravel.

Adrenaline poured through her in a wild cataract. She didn’t stop to think or worry or wonder. She just hooked her hands under Reno’s arms and pulled with every bit of strength and determination she had, dragging him in a single lunge away from the rubble and the unstable wall.

Rocks ground and gnashed and poured out in a wave of debris that lapped at Reno’s boots. Desperately
Eve kept backing up, dragging him with her until she stumbled and fell. She struggled to her feet and kept pulling, but her frenzied burst of strength was spent, leaving her unable to budge him. Still she kept tugging and tugging, crying and calling brokenly to Reno.

“It’s all right, Eve. You can let go. You pulled him far enough.”

For a wild second she thought Reno was talking to her. Then she realized that it was Rafe kneeling next to her.

“How…?” Eve’s question ended in a cough.

“When the wall went, it opened up a whole new passage. I don’t know how long it will last, though. Can you walk?”

Shakily Eve got to her feet.

“Take the lantern,” Rafe said. “We’ll be right on your heels.”

He bent, levered his brother into place across his broad shoulders, and followed Eve. Soon they met Caleb and Wolfe, who had heard the rumble in the gut of the mine and had come running.