Read The Promise Online

Authors: Dee Davis

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #paranormal, #historical, #colorado, #time travel, #dee davis

The Promise (4 page)

BOOK: The Promise
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"Maybe. But I've got to do something. I can't leave
him out there." Patrick strode toward the cabin, Pete following
close behind.

"I ain't telling you to leave him. I'm just
suggesting we wait a couple more hours until the sun's up. Can't
tell a rock from a hole out there right now. You go off into the
mountains like that and I'll be searching for two injured men,
'stead of just one."

They stopped on the porch and Patrick looked up at
the sky. The moon had almost disappeared, leaving the last of the
stars to light the night. Pete, as always, was right. "Fine, then
we'll wait. Two hours. No more."

Pete settled a hand on Patrick's shoulder, his touch
comforting. "I know you're worried about your brother. Can't say it
sets well with me either, but we're gonna find him. We just gotta
hold on for the light."

Patrick looked out towards the mountains that ringed
the valley. They were little more than menacing shadows, blending
into the dark sky. He wasn't much of a praying man, but he prayed
now. Prayed that his brother was safe out there. Prayed that he
could hang on until morning.

Prayed that he was still alive.

CHAPTER 2

San Juan Mountains, Colorado - Present
Day

 

Cara stood by the edge of the stream staring
up at the blue spruce. It called to her mockingly, promising things
that could never be. She chewed on the corner of her lip,
hesitating, wondering what it was exactly she'd thought to
accomplish by coming here.

Drawing in a lungful of crisp mountain air, she let
her eyes roam across the narrow valley. The beauty of the mountains
was almost unbearable. Blues and greens mottled with the oranges
and reds of Indian paintbrush and the yellow of coreopsis, the
silver and brown of the jagged rocks protruding like broken and
forgotten limbs through gentle rolling meadows.

This land was as familiar to her as breathing. And
yet, angry and arrogant, she'd run away from it all. A part of her
would regret that forever. But she was back now, determined to make
a new start. And to do that she had to make peace with her
past.

Starting with the mine.

With a sigh, she crossed the creek, stopping in front
of the spruce, memories threatening to overwhelm her. Her parents'
had been gone nine years, but the night of their death lived on in
her mind, teasing her with might-have-beens. She remembered it
all—the crash, the fire, the cold snow against her face. And
Michael—she remembered Michael.

Only of course, she didn't. Like most things good in
her life, Michael was only an illusion. The product of a mind
tormented by tragedy. And so, here she was, standing before an
overgrown tree, looking for a doorway to something forever
lost.

She skirted the great tree, making her way through
overgrown underbrush and saplings until she was flush against the
outcropping of rock that marked the side of the mountain. She
frowned at the solid rock in front of her. Maybe she had the wrong
spruce. Or maybe she was just coming at it from the wrong
angle.

Trying again, she edging her way closer to the tree,
ducking under its overhanging branches. Immediately a gloomy hush
descended as the tree limbs effectively blocked out light and
sound. Holding onto the trunk and keeping her head low, she moved
behind the tree. She could see a jumble of fallen rock at her
feet.

With a surge of certainty, she pushed between
fragrant branches, her vision blocked by the thickness of the
tree's pinecone laden limbs. Determined, she fought her way
forward, feeling a lot like Lucy passing through the wardrobe into
Narnia. The tree of her memory had certainly been much smaller.

Ducking almost level with the ground, she finally
emerged from underneath the spruce. There was a narrow, rock strewn
opening between the tree and the abutting mountainside. She drew in
a breath and took a small step forward, waiting for her eyes to
adjust to the faint sunlight that filtered through the
branches.

Looking up, she could just make out the black gap
marking the entrance to the mine. It was barely visible between two
large outcroppings of sharp-edged stone, rocky sentries guarding
their long forgotten treasure.

With a smile of triumph, she bounded up the small
incline. Standing at the mouth of the cave, she felt the years roll
away. It hadn't changed much. The entrance still beckoned, its
mouth shored up with timbers carefully hauled into place by some
long forgotten miner.

She stepped inside, squinting to see in the dark
gloom of the interior, wishing for a flashlight. The man-made walls
were rough-edged and slick with moisture. The air was still and
stale, a sharp change after the fragrant mountain breeze. She
hadn't been here in years. Not since the last time she'd come back
looking for Michael.

With a sigh, she felt the familiar surge of
disappointment. The tunnel was empty. She'd hadn't expected to find
anything. Not after all this time. But still, a part of her had
hoped. She stepped farther inside the tunnel, reigning in her
emotions. This was supposed to be about closure after all.

The passageway wasn't deep, only a hundred feet or
so. Whoever had dug it had abandoned it almost before he'd started,
the lead he'd no doubt been following petering out before it could
point the way to any riches the mountain might hold.

The San Juans were riddled with mines. Some of them
successful—mines like the Amethyst, Holy Moses and the Last Chance.
Some of them legendary—like the fabled Promise. But mainly there
were empty holes like this one, carved out of the side of the
mountain and then abandoned. Dreams quashed before they'd even
begun. Cara felt a rush of sadness for this unknown miner and hoped
his dreams had found fruition elsewhere.

She stopped about twenty feet into the mine shaft, at
the place where the weak light finally played out. Against the
wall, she could just make out an old lantern. In her mind's eye,
she could see Michael holding the very same lamp, its golden glow
spreading through the tunnel, illuminating the walls, casting
dancing shadows.

She sighed, looking down at the remains of the
lantern. Far older than nine years, the globe was broken, the metal
base rusted with age. Her memories were imagined. Reality bending
in on itself, creating something of nothing.

Michael Macpherson was a figment of her imagination.
Someone she'd conjured up to help her through the worst ordeal of
her life. He wasn't real. Her doctors had told her. Her grandfather
had told her. And, eventually, she'd believed them. Shaking her
head, to clear her thoughts, she turned to go. There was nothing
for her here. She'd been silly to come.

The faint light from the entrance was almost blinding
after the complete darkness of the tunnel behind her. Dizzy, her
head spun for a moment and she almost lost her balance. Reaching
for the cold comfort of the rock wall, she leaned against it until
the moment passed.

Steady again, she breathed deeply, suddenly needing
to be outside in the fresh air again. Stories of mine gas and
cave-ins crowded into her brain, vying for attention. Shutting the
rampant thoughts out, she made her way back to the entrance, and
was just about to step into the pine shadowed sunlight when
something behind her, in the depths of the tunnel, shifted.

Rocks rattled against stone as they rolled across the
floor. She froze, heart pounding, waiting for another noise.
Curiosity battled with terror. When the mine remained silent,
curiosity won and she took a hesitant step back into the
passageway.

Squinting into the darkness, she tried to make out
the source of the sound, the little voice in her head calmly
listing off all the wild animals that could conceivably have made
the tunnel their home. It was enough to make her step back toward
the entrance again.

Then, just as she turned to leave, something
groaned.

She stopped, took a deep breath and swung around
again to face the darkness. The groan repeated itself, reaching out
from the gloom like a disembodied spirit.

Someone was in pain.

"Hello?" Her voice echoed eerily off the walls. "Is
someone there?"

She waited, but there was no answer, nothing at all
except the hollow silence. Uncertain now, actually doubting
herself, she squinted into the darkness. She had heard something,
but without any further guidance, it would be impossible—and
foolhardy, her mind whispered—to try to find the source.

She reached instinctively for the smooth disk of her
pendant, the cool feel of its silver casing calming her. Another
rustling sound filled the mine shaft and she released the necklace,
taking a hesitant step forward. This time the noise was followed by
a muffled curse.

She sucked in a breath. "Can you hear me?" Silence.
"I want to help, but I can't find you in the dark without a little
guidance." She waited, but everything remained quiet. Finally,
giving up, she turned to go, moving up the slight slope toward the
entrance.

"Wait." The single word echoed through the cavern,
somewhere between a plea and a command.

Hairs rose on the back of her neck, but she turned
around anyway, caution warring with compassion.

"I'm…over…here." The voice was louder now and
decidedly male. Compassion won out by a nose.

She stepped over the line of light and moved around a
bend into complete darkness. Groping for the wall, she tried to get
her bearings. If she remembered correctly, the tunnel went on for
forty feet or so, then turned again to go deeper into the mountain,
before deadending into solid rock. Hopefully, the owner of the
voice wasn't too far ahead.

"Can you hear me?" She waited, heart still
pounding.

"I'm here." His voice was weak, but clear. "I don't
suppose you have a light?"

"No such luck, I'm afraid."

"There's a lantern back there somewhere." His voice
filled the darkness, warm and alive, but she could hear the
underlying pain.

"I saw it. But it's beyond being useful. The glass is
broken."

A sharp curse rang out through the darkness. Concern
laced through her. "Are you all right?" She leaned against the
wall, all her senses focused on listening.

"I've been better." A tiny thread of laughter
lightened his voice.

"Can you move?"

There was another groan. "Not without help."

"Hang on, then. I'm coming." She inched forward
slowly, keeping one hand out in front of her and the other pressed
firmly to the wall.

"Stop." The word was a command. Even in a weakened
state, in the dark, this man had presence. "I'm right in front of
you."

"How in the world could you possibly know that?" she
grumbled, dropping to her knees, both hands stretched in front of
her.

"You haven't exactly been quiet." There was the
laughter again.

"It wasn't my primary concern." Her hands met solid
muscle, and he groaned. "Oh God, I'm so sorry." She felt something
sticky under her fingers and recoiled. "You're bleeding."

"I know."

"Well, there isn't much I can do for you if I can't
see you." She strove to keep her voice, calm, businesslike. "We'll
just have to get you into the light."

A resigned sigh echoed through the tunnel. "All
right."

"You can lean on me. I'll help you up." She wrapped
her arm around his chest and felt his arm drape heavily across her
shoulders. "You ready?" He groaned in answer and she felt him nod.
"All right then, on three. One…two…" She shifted her weight to her
inside leg and pushed up with the other one. "Three."

He was heavy and the smell of him enveloped her—raw
male mixed with the sick, sweet smell of blood. He groaned again,
but managed to pull himself to his feet. They stood for a minute,
getting their balance, then slowly began to move forward.

Cara kept her hand against the wall, following it as
the path wound its way upward. Finally, turning the bend, they
stepped into the weak light of the entrance tunnel. The man
stopped, eyeing the opening with concern. "This is far enough."

"But we need to get you to a doctor."

"No doctors." It was too dark to see his face, but
she could sense his stubbornness.

Exasperation flooded through her. "Fine." She glared
at him. "But we still need to get you out of here." They could
argue about doctors later. "Look, my house is just down the creek a
bit. It's an easy walk." Without a wounded man. But she had to stay
positive. "Do you think you can make it?"

"I can try. But first you'll have to help me stop the
bleeding." He motioned to the rapidly spreading stain on his
shirt.

"Here?" She tried to keep the panic out of her voice.
First aid wasn't a strong point.

He smiled weakly, the white of his teeth gleaming in
the dark. "Don't think I have a choice."

"All right." She nodded, accepting the inevitable.
Carefully, she lowered him to a sitting position, the strain making
her muscles ache. He stretched out his long legs and leaned back
against the rock wall. She gingerly pulled his shirt open, exposing
a broad expanse of male chest covered with a light dusting of dark
hair. The wound lay just to the right of his shoulder. His shirt
had fused itself to the skin.

"This is going to hurt." She looked up, trying to see
his eyes, but the shadows were too deep.

"Just do it." His voice was taut, and she could feel
his muscles bunching in preparation.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled the blood soaked cloth
away with a quick tug. She felt him flinch. "Sorry." His skin was
raw and covered with blood, some of it dried and crusty. This
wasn't a new wound. "How long have you been here?"

"Don't know, really." He closed his eyes, his voice
fading.

"Come on. Stay with me."

He nodded, rallying a bit. "You can use my shirt for
a bandage."

BOOK: The Promise
11.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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