Queen (40 page)

It was time to call Will's name. Again they stopped, and the signal to do so was passed along the long, single chain of men. Sometimes they could see only as far as a man or two on either side of themselves. But it was far enough to see.

"Will… Will… Will… Will…"

The silence that followed was eerie as each man strained to hold his breathing to a minimum, hoping for the miracle that had yet to occur.

Cody ached in spirit and in body. The urge to drop to the ground and wail in unrelenting grief was almost overwhelming. Yet when he thought he couldn't move another muscle, he'd picture Will's big blue eyes, and the way his unexpected smiles would brighten an entire day, and knew that he could take that next step. He had to. What if Will was about to give up, too?

And then it was his turn to shout Will's name aloud.

When he heard a cry, he thought at first he was imagining the sound because he'd so badly wanted to hear it. And then it came again, more urgent… more frantic… and Cody's heart jerked against his chest as he shouted for the men to wait. He'd heard Will's voice.

"Daa… dee! In… eee… bod… ee… Help!"

His call seemed weak, as if the place he was in had eaten most of it before it escaped through the opening above. Cody shivered in response to the image his mind had conjured.

Will sniffled back tears and shouted again, and as he did, he realized that his voice was weak because his throat was terribly sore. He swallowed. Then, just as he opened his mouth, he stopped in midmotion, forgetting to breathe as he cocked his head and listened.

Someone was calling his name! A whole lot of someones! But what if they couldn't find him?

He started shouting… screaming… afraid to stop and listen and hear that the voices had moved on, that he was left behind in the dark and the cold… again.

He looked up. The piece of blue sky was still there… taunting… reminding him of how often he'd looked up into that same sky and never considered his luck in being able to move freely about beneath it.

Cody hit the ground on all fours and began crawling, turning first one direction, then readjusting by degrees as he tried to zero in on Will's voice. But it was so difficult to tell where it was coming from.

The men came from everywhere to converge on the area and repeat Cody's behavior, listening carefully and trying to follow the sound of the boy's shouts.

"Over here… over here!" a young lieutenant shouted, the first to see the small, narrow cleft in the ground. As the men merged on the area, it was painfully obvious by the way the ground was disturbed around it that Will had tried to catch himself as he went in. Grass was uprooted, small rocks and pebbles dislodged.

They moved aside as Cody burst through the ring of men. In seconds he was flat on the ground, prone above the narrow opening, peering down into the slit, trying to see into the darkness.

Will gasped as the sky above him disappeared. He stopped shouting, frightened by the sudden darkness, until he heard a familiar voice calling down to him. It was then that he figured it was all right to cry.

"Will! Son! Are you down there?"

"Daddy… Daddy… I fell. I can't get out."

"Oh, thank you, God!" Cody's soft whisper was heard by the men, but they knew that it hadn't been meant for them. They, too, were saying their own prayers as Will answered his father's call.

"Okay, Will. Don't you worry. We'll get you out. Now tell me… where do you hurt?"

"My leg. Daddy, I can't move my leg. I think it's broken."

"Give me a flashlight," Cody shouted, and reached behind him. The object he asked for was slapped firmly into his hand.

He flipped it on and then leaned down, his gaze following the narrow beam of light as it traveled toward his son. Will's face suddenly came into focus, as did the fact that the only way to get Will out was straight up.

"It's me, son. It's Daddy. I see you. Don't be afraid."

And then he turned his head and stared straight into his face, his words low so that Will couldn't hear.

"'We can't use the harness. There's no way he can maneuver himself into that alone with a broken leg. And there's no way in hell I can get down to him. It's too small."

"Damn," Dennis muttered, looking with dismay at the narrowness of the opening through which they needed to work. No grown man could possibly fit through it.

"Just a minute, Will!" Cody shouted. "Don't be afraid. I'll be right back. Sheriff Miller is right here, and he's going to talk to you while we figure out what to do, okay?"

"Okay." The trust in Will's voice was implicit.

Cody got to his feet and walked a few paces away from the hole as the men took turns shouting down words of encouragement.

"If we can't go down after him," Dennis said, "then how do we get him up?"

Cody thought. And then what he decided depended entirely on Will being able to cooperate. He dropped back to the opening.

"Will! Is your leg all that hurts?"

"No…"

"Oh, hell," Cody muttered. "Okay, son. Tell me exactly what parts of your body you can't move."

"Oh, that! Only my leg. My throat hurts… and, uh… my ribs are sore. But I can move my mouth and stomach okay."

A smile broke Cody's grim expression wide open. He rolled over on his back and laughed. "Ask a kid a specific question… hell give you a specific answer. All I've got to remember is to ask the right questions."

He rolled back over and shouted down to Will, "I'm going to drop you a lift, son. All you have to do is put it over your head and then beneath your arms. You'll wrap your arms around it and hold on real tight while we pull you up. Think you can do it?"

Will's voice rose two octaves. "Is it the kind like the navy seals use to fish people out of the water? One of those deals?"

Dennis chuckled. "A true son of the military."

"Yes," Cody said. "One of those 'deals.' Can you hold on tight enough so that you won't fall?"

"Sure. Just let 'er drop."

"Oh, hell," Cody said as he stood and signaled one of the men who was carrying rescue equipment. "Sure, Dad. No problem, Dad." He swiped a shaky hand across his face as Abel Miller walked by and gave him a slap on the back. "Thank God for the resilience of kids," Cody muttered.

In minutes the rigging had been completed. The men now formed a chain as they lowered the lift by the attached rope, all equally eager to be part of the process of raising Will Bonner from the dead.

"Got it!" Will shouted, and eagerly grasped the horse collar-shaped object that had just landed in his lap. In seconds he'd shrugged it over his head and positioned it firmly beneath his armpits. He wrapped his arms tight around it, tested it once or twice to make sure he had a firm grip, and then shouted, "Pull away! I'm ready."

Cody was flat on his stomach above the hole, the flashlight an extension of his arm while he leaned as far through the opening as he dared, needing to watch his son's progress. He said a slow prayer, took a deep breath, and then turned to the men, who were waiting tor his signal.

"Let's get him out of there," Cody said. It was what they were waiting to hear.

Will groaned as movement sent pain racking through his body.

"Are you all right?" Cody shouted, at the same time motioning for the men to stop pulling.

"It's okay, Daddy. Just get me out."

Cody signaled again, and the men resumed pulling on the rope.

Will hunched over the lift, tightened his hold even more, and bit the inside of his mouth as his feet left the floor of the minicavern. Twice as they pulled him up, he bumped against the narrow chimney, and twice he groaned aloud, certain that if it happened again, he would pass out from the pain and then fall. But somehow his daddy's voice, and the fact that daylight got closer and closer, kept him from losing his grip on the lift and on consciousness.

A scant minute later Cody's hand connected with a thatch of dark hair and then brushed over the bright red jacket. Realizing that he had touched his son, and now had to move back to give the men and Will the space in which to maneuver, was unbearable.

And then suddenly Will's face broke above the surface, and that was all Cody was waiting for. He jumped to his feet, then bent down and, with the strength of giants, pulled his son into his arms as the mountain gave up its prey.

There wasn't a dry eye in the crowd as the men cheered wildly. This was a good end to a bad beginning.

Cody's belly turned at the sight of the awkward angle at which Will's thin leg hung beneath his torn and muddy jeans. "Get me a stretcher," he shouted, and in seconds Will was flat on his back, his leg being positioned so that it would not move until they could get him to a hospital.

"Daddy… is Queenie all right? I saw her fall."

"She's just fine, son," Cody said as he bent over the stretcher while the others worked to secure his son. "In fact, she's back home just waiting to see you. They all are."

The smile slid off Will's face. "All of them?"

"It's okay, Will. Your grandmother is sorry. Probably more sorry than anyone there. She never meant for you to be afraid. Do you understand?"

"I guess," Will said, and turned away, unwilling now that he was free of one burden to face what had sent him running from home in the first place.

"Wait," Cody said as the men started to lift Will's stretcher. "There's someone else who needs to hear his voice."

He took the two-way radio from his inner jacket pocket. "Cody to Queen. Cody to Queen. Do you read me? Over."

"This is Queen. I'm here. Over."

Her breathless voice and frightened tone told Cody that she'd spent a night in hell with him, only miles apart.

Cody laid the radio against his son's cheek and pressed the send button as he nodded for his son to speak.

"Queenie… this is Will. Are you all right?" And then he added, "Over," at his father's silent reminder.

She started to cry. After all their fright, and all their worries, the first thing he wanted to know was if she was all right.

"Yes, Will, I'm just fine. Hurry home, sweetheart. Donny's eating all your cookies. Over and out."

Will grinned. "Better hurry," he told the men. "Donny's got a hollow leg. Queenie says so."

Cody found it much easier going down the mountain with a lighter heart. Within the hour the roof of his house was in sight. And when they broke out of the trees and into the clearing, the first thing he saw was Queen, standing on the deck in the cold morning air. With her fiery hair and the smile on her face, she was like a bright beacon to come home to.

And then she was running down the steps, covering the distance between them in long, even strides.

Cody caught her in midflight and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face against her neck and whispering things meant for her alone.

"Needs more icicles on this side, J.J.," Will said, and pointed toward a bare spot near the wall.

J.J. nodded, following his brother's directions. Although Will was home and safe, for the time being he was couch-bound with the cast upon his leg. His share in the decoration of the family Christmas tree consisted of directing the entire proceedings from a reclining position.

Donny was of the opinion that Will was getting bossy, but he was so glad to have his family intact that he had yet to complain. J.J. was glad to have his mentor back in place and his world in order.

Will sighed as J.J. carried a fistful of shiny aluminum strands toward the back of the tree and wished that he could stand long enough to help. It was the first time in a long while that they'd put up a tree, and he was missing out on all the fun.

The Christmas they'd been with their grandparents they'd had a tree, but it had been a designer original. No hands-on decorating for Lenore Whittier. And the theme of her tree had lacked the warm improvisation of this one. There was no way that pink velvet bows and white satin balls could compete with blinking lights, four different sets of balls in four different colors, and Queenie's surprise—special oven-baked ornaments in the shape of gingerbread men, one with each member of the family's name swirled across the fat belly in red icing. All in all, Will thought it was a marvelous tree.

"Your grandparents called," Queen said. "They wished you all a Merry Christmas."

"Yay!" J.J. cheered, and Donny gave her a thumbs-up sign to indicate his own approval as he glanced beneath the tree at his grandparents' presents, which had arrived by special express days earlier.

Queen noticed that Will had little to say regarding the message and knew that it was going to take time before he could fully forgive his grandmother. Of all the boys, he'd taken their threats the most to heart… and had suffered the most because of it.

The Whittiers had been at Will's bedside, as had Cody, when he'd awakened with the cast on his leg. At first he couldn't figure out what was different about his grandmother.

She'd apologized over and over, and he remembered that she'd been crying. It was only later that he realized she wasn't wearing all her makeup. She had looked old… and, somehow, almost safe.

Will shifted on his chair and then smiled as Queenie came into the room carrying brownies and hot chocolate.

"Me first," he said.

"What else is new," Donny muttered, and then winked as Queen gave him a look he recognized meant business.

"Will… when we get finished, want to put the star on top?" Queen asked, setting down the goodies.

Will's face lit up like the lights on the tree. "Oh, yes… but you can't lift me that high," he said, and then slumped back onto the chair with a sigh.

"I can," Cody said as he came into the living room, bringing a burst of cold air with him.

Queen smiled. Her heart broke rhythm just once, a reminder to herself that his mere presence still made her weak in the knees.

Cody grinned and winked, recognizing a look in her eyes that he would gladly address later that night.

Queen stared at him in all his magnificence, his black hair frosted with a peppering of the snow that was falling outside, his eyes bright and glowing with life and laughter.

He set a small box on the table, shed his coat, and then grabbed her, covering her mouth with a quick, passionate kiss, knowing she couldn't object if she couldn't talk.