Читать книгу The Soldier's Holiday Vow - Jillian Hart - Страница 31

September Stevens fought despair. Not an easy thing to do. The cold damp earth surrounded her like a grave. The jagged, crumbling walls of the mine shaft lifted above her and drank up the faint starlight. She and little Crystal Toppins had been down here for a good twelve hours. Sunset came early, near to four-thirty this time of year. That meant enough time had passed for it to be nearly midnight. If the sky wasn’t partly overcast, typical for the Pacific Northwest in winter, the rising moon might have offered some relief from the suffocating dark and fear.

Maybe then it would have been easier to hold on to hope.

“They aren’t coming, are they?” The ten-year-old girl gulped down a sob. It was too dark in the belly of the shaft to see more than a shadow of the child lying on her back on the earthen floor. Terror made the girl’s voice thin and raw. “Are we going to d-die?”

“No, of course not.” September leaned back against the hard-packed dirt wall and stretched her legs out as far as they would go. She had to believe that was the truth, but privately, she wasn’t so sure. Crystal had been seriously hurt. September’s injuries weren’t as severe, but her left forearm had a compound fracture. With no antiseptic wipes, no sterile bandages and no first-aid kit—all of which were still packed safely in her saddle pack on her horse—she had done all she could.

She couldn’t let her fear win. The horses would have returned to the stable, although it was miles away down Bear Mountain. Comanche was well trained and fond of his molasses snacks. He would have gone straight home and that meant Colleen, her boss, knew they were missing. Search parties would have gone out immediately—probably ten hours ago or so.

“They know where we were headed, so everyone knows where to look,” she reasoned, putting as much reassurance as she could in her voice. Crystal’s condition could be fragile, and she had to give the girl strength. “They are coming. They will be here as soon as they can.”

“What if they can’t find us? What if they stop looking?”

“They won’t do that, sweetie.” September pressed her arm against the girl’s gently, comfortingly. “Do you think your mom would let that happen?”

“No.” Crystal had to almost be smiling. “Mom’s a little intense.”

“Yes, she is, and that’s a great thing. A fantastic thing. She will mow this mountain down to find you. I’m absolutely sure about that, so no more worrying. Got it?”

“Got it.” Crystal sighed, a desolate sound in the dark.

A nearly absolute dark. September looked up through the ragged hole in the earth above to the disappearing stars. A cloud layer was moving in from the coast, blotting out the twinkling lights one by one. The dank chill of the ground crept into her bones, and it was a cold that gripped with talons. She would never be warm again.

Where was their search party? It was the question she had been asking since their horses balked, probably feeling the earth shift beneath their hooves. It was a good hour’s ride back to the stable. That meant a search party should have been passing by within an hour, maybe two. Although she had listened diligently and watched carefully, there had been no sign of anyone riding the trail hunting for them. Did that mean no one would be coming? How long could they last, injured and without food or water or even a blanket for warmth? Was it possible they would die in this thirty-foot grave?

If so, this wasn’t how she wanted to go, afraid and wishing she could change so much of her life. Her mess of a life. She drew in a rattling breath, leaned back against the cold earthen wall and closed her eyes against the thrum of pain inside her head. No one twenty-three years old should die with regrets. It wasn’t right that she had so many of them.

If she had one do-over, it would be to go back in time exactly two years, two months and ten days and force Tim out of the army. To have made her fiancé realize that he had done his part in serving several tours of duty overseas. That he didn’t have to stay in the military.

If she had been adamant, if she had stood her ground, then he would still be alive today and she wouldn’t be in this abandoned shaft with an injured child weakening by the hour, bits of earth crumbling down on top of them.

Please, Lord. Send somebody before it’s too late for Crystal. She sent the prayer heavenward, but feared it was not strong enough to escape this dark hole. Her faith was not exactly rock solid these days. She feared God had given up on her. She didn’t blame Him one bit.

“I’m c-cold.”

“Here, lean closer to me.” She lifted her arm, carefully scootching closer to the injured girl. It was all she could offer.

The little girl leaned against her with another sigh, and September held her. She felt the fine chills of Crystal’s body and feared she was slipping into shock. She could do nothing more for the child, who she feared was bleeding internally. Before the sun had gone down, there had been just enough light to see the growing bruise on the girl’s abdomen. There was only so much basic first aid could do.

“September?” Crystal’s voice sounded feeble, as if she were fading away. “What is it like to die?”

“I don’t know.” She felt the strike of the past, as if she was being pulled back to the cold, lifeless shock two years, two months and ten days ago. She had just turned into her driveway after coming home from the grocery store and seen the army chaplain and Tim’s commanding officer at her front door.

She shut off her feelings to block the pain. After all this time, she still battled the overwhelming wave of grief. What had death been like for Tim? Had he known it was coming or was it so sudden, he didn’t know? Had he suffered? Was his last thought of her? She hated how time had begun to dim his memory. She could no longer pull his image up in her mind as clearly. It felt doubly cruel.

“Jesus is supposed to be in heaven waiting for us, but what if I don’t go there?” Crystal’s voice wobbled. “What if I’m not good enough?”

“Jesus loves you, Crystal.” She didn’t feel equipped to be reassuring anyone’s faith. “Please stop worrying and relax. You need to rest.”

“Okay.” The girl sounded all wrong—as if her condition were worsening, as if she were fading away.

Please, Lord, don’t let that happen. It wasn’t fair that Crystal had been so wounded when she had not been. She adjusted her broken arm carefully, where it rested on her thigh, and ignored the sheering pain. Take anything from me, Lord, and give it to Crystal. Please use it to save her life.

No answer came. The last stars winked out. The little girl beside her gave a sob, as if she were running out of hope, too. September’s stomach clamped tight with prickly fear for the girl. The truth was, she felt as if God could not see them and suspected He didn’t care.

And wasn’t that a sad way to feel? Her breath hitched in her lungs with a sharp pain. What happened to the woman she used to be? She dug deep, past the hard, suffocating shell of grief, and tried to see her old self, the one she had lost along with Tim and their dreams. ThatSeptember would not be on the edge of despair. She would be certain God would see her to safety.

She’d had such perfect faith back then and doubt would never have crept in. Nor the certainty that she was forgotten in this grave deep in the earth.

How had she come to this place in her spiritual life? She felt blood trickling down her forehead—the cut must have started bleeding again—and gingerly blotted it with her T-shirt hem. The two years were a blur as she’d fought to put one foot in front of the other and make it through each minute, each hour, each day. Now she found herself here, trapped in the earth, more lost than she knew how to say.

“I feel real bad, September.” Crystal sobbed once, just once.

“Hang in there, sweetie.” She adored her little riding student; she felt useless to help her now. She tightened her hold on the girl. “Close your eyes and rest.”

A snapping branch shattered the vast silence. Hope flared to life. She eased her arm around the girl and sat up, not daring to say anything or to even think the words. After all, it could be a wild animal passing by and not a rescue party. But still, it could be. She carefully rose upward, laying her good hand on the damp clay wall for support. Bright spots flashed in front of her eyes and the pounding in her head felt like the worst of thunderstorms. She kept her thoughts clear and strained for the tiniest sign that anyone was nearby.

“Hi, there.” A man’s rough baritone preceded the shine of a halogen flashlight.

There was something about that voice, both familiar and startling. Her thumping brain couldn’t make sense of it right off. He took a moment to look away, as if signaling to more people out of her sight. Her double vision made it hard at first to recognize the striking, chiseled lines of his face, the high, proud forehead and straight bridge of his nose.

“You two are a welcome sight.” He grinned down at her with an easy friendliness that spun her back in time.

“Hawk.” Tim’s best friend. Her blood went cold. Seeing his shadowed face sent her into another shock wave. Tremors quaked through her as she stared, openmouthed. The last time she’d seen him it had been dark, too, as dark as this mine shaft, the night full of loss and sorrow where no light could reach.

Why did it have to be him? Couldn’t their rescuer be someone—anyone—other than Mark Hawkins?

“September Stevens, you look worse for the wear. Contusion. Concussion, maybe? Your arm’s broken?”

She nodded, struggling to think past her shock. “Crystal’s hurt. I think she needs a helicopter.”

“Got it.” Their gazes met and the force of it was like a punch. She knew without asking that he understood what she couldn’t say, not without panicking the girl. He turned toward the child. “Crystal, hello there. Can you see me?”

“Ye-ah.” She sounded weak. Too weak.

“Good, ’cause I’m comin’ down to fetch you. You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever rescued.” Unruffled, that was Hawk, and beyond the tough-as-bedrock Army Ranger was the heart of a truly kind man. He climbed into a harness and tied off. “Everything’s gonna be fine now. You hear me?”

“Ye-ah.” Even in terrible pain, the girl managed a small, brief smile.

September’s knees were watery, so she sank back down beside the girl, watching as Hawk tested the rope and nodded to the other rescuers somewhere out of her sight. Good to go, he rappelled through the darkness, the rasp of the rope the only sound between them. Their ordeal was over, and they were found. That ought to bring her sheer relief. It didn’t. Knowing their rescue came at the price of seeing Hawk again was no comfort. She winced when his feet hit ground. His presence seemed to draw every particle of air from the underground cave.

“We’ll get Crystal up first,” he murmured, leaning close. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell the mix of mountain air, leather and exhaust clinging to his clothes. “We’ve got a chopper coming…” He paused to catch the gurney being lowered on a rope. “And Crystal’s mom knows she’s been found.”

“Good.” What a relief. She thought of Patty Toppins, a concerned, caring mom who had to be frantic with terror. Dully, she realized Hawk was kneeling next to Crystal. She cleared her throat. “Let me help.”

“No need.” His gloved hand caught hers and sent a shock through her system.

Alarmed, she wrenched her hand away, bumping into the earthen barrier. Her breathing came raggedly, her pulse thudded too loudly in her ears. Why had she reacted so strongly to Hawk’s touch? Why had he unsettled her? She blinked, realizing another man was circling around to assist Hawk. Someone else roped down without her noticing. Too much was happening, and she couldn’t seem to focus. It must be because of the concussion.

Hawk had already turned back to business, the wide set of his shoulders visible in the eerie shaft of light from above. It was good to see him. It was horrible to see him. She felt useless as the men started an IV for the girl and strapped her into the gurney. The second man hooked in. She caught a glimpse of Crystal’s face, ashen in the harsh lighting, before the ground team hoisted her swiftly upward into waiting hands. The whop-whop of a helicopter told her help had arrived just in time.

“Let me take a look at you, September.” Hawk’s voice, gentle with concern. “You’re hurt.”

“Nothing like Crystal.” It was too hard to look him in the eye, tougher still to see the shadows of the life and the dreams, which were gone. He reminded her of what was lost. Of the determined, competitive, patriotic man she had wanted to marry. A part of her had died right along with Tim. She wished she could step farther away from him, but there wasn’t room enough to escape him. Stuck against the earth with nowhere to go, she was forced to stand while he inched closer. The cold damp seeped through her shirt and she shivered.

“Look up.” Hawk shone a light into her eyes and flicked it away. He did it a second time, frowning.

She wanted to pretend he was a stranger, a man she did not know. It felt as if parts of her cracked again after she’d worked so hard to keep together. Panic crept through her and she pushed away. “I’m fine, Hawk. I just need to get out of here, that’s all.”

“I don’t think you’re fine. You’re going to need stitches.” His gaze raked across her face like a touch. “You’ve got quite a concussion. And what about that arm? That’s going to need surgery.”

“I’m alive. That’s fine in my book.” Maybe she sounded a little harsh, but it had been a terrible day and a worse night. Seeing him suddenly like this was the last thing she could deal with. She couldn’t risk going back to that dark, broken place. “All I need is one of those harness things. Can you call up for one?”

“Better yet, you can ride with me.” He sounded calm and unwavering. He was a fine soldier; seeing her again and remembering what had happened to Tim wasn’t likely to throw him.

Unlike her. She caught sight of the extra harness hooked into his, and her knees wobbled. His hand shot out, steadying her by the elbow, the strength and heat of his touch seared like a burn. She didn’t want to go up with him. “Maybe someone else—”

“We have to hurry, September.” His gaze turned grim, the only hint at what he might be feeling. His shadowed face became a hard mask, impossible to read. “We don’t want to keep the bird waiting.”

“I don’t need the helicopter.”

“It’s the best way.” He had been calm on the night after they had buried Tim, too, a steady rock in the darkness. “I don’t call the shots.”

“But I don’t want—” She couldn’t finish. Her skull felt ready to explode from pain. Her stomach cramped with light nausea. She couldn’t keep arguing with him, but how could she let him take her into his arms? She fisted her hands. She was not strong enough.

“You don’t want to cost Crystal valuable time.” Gentleness blended with cold-hard steel. He wrapped the harness around her hips and secured the strap, so close she could see the whorl of dark hair at his crown and smell the clean scent of his shampoo. His gaze latched on to hers with the force of the earth on the moon. “Put your arms around me.”

If Crystal hadn’t been waiting on her, she never would have done it. One thought of the girl had her wrapping her arms around Hawk’s wide, muscled chest. She laid her cheek against his shirt pocket and squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the night she had refused his sympathy and the kind embrace of Tim’s best friend. His heart walloped beneath her ear. The fabric of his BDUs roughly caressed her cheek as the iron band of his arms embraced her. The rope tugged, lifting them off the ground.

She had to will away the memories whispering at the edges of her mind and force them into silence again. Looking back wouldn’t change the truth. It wouldn’t make her whole and strong again. It wouldn’t return Tim to her. Would Hawk understand that? They began to sway, oddly buoyant as the rope drew them upward.

“You doin’ okay?”

She nodded.

“You’re not gonna pass out on me, are you?”

Choosing silence again, she shook her head. Hands were reaching out for her.

“Careful of her left arm,” Hawk called out.

She felt someone grab her good arm to hoist her to her feet. She opened her eyes to see the gloomy bowl of the sky and the brightly lit wooded area. A dozen search-and-rescue team members were busy at work, manning the ropes, running the lights or talking on squawking radios. A search dog barked at his handler, excited by her arrival, as if he had been worried, too. She looked everywhere but at the man with one arm still around her. Even on solid ground, she felt as if she were swaying in midair.

Hawk was talking, rattling off her injuries, unhooking the carabineer connecting them, and her harness fell away. Other soldiers helped her onto a gurney. She didn’t want to, but her head was spinning. She realized the volunteers were from nearby Fort Lewis, where the Ranger battalion Tim had belonged to was stationed. She’d been introduced to some of the men at one time or another, men who were faceless now in the shadowy dark. She let them strap her down and check her vitals.

“You did great.” He knelt at her side, his hair slick with sweat, and his granite face compassionate. “You saved that girl’s life. You knew what to do and you did it.”

“I didn’t do much. I raised her feet. I kept her quiet. I gave her my sweatshirt.”

“It’s the simple stuff that can make the most difference. You kept her as stable as you could until help came.” The gurney bounced as the men lifted her. He stayed by her, carrying his share of her weight. “You did good.”

“I know what you’re doing. You’re distracting me from my injuries so they don’t seem as bad.”

“Someone will splint that arm for you in the chopper. I’m glad you’re okay, September. I’m glad I found you.” He kept his voice casual and easy.

“Thank you, Hawk.”

“Sure thing.” He kept his footing, not easy on the rocky edge of the steep trail. They were closer to the bird now, the engine noise making it too loud to say much. He had enough light to see her better, the silk of her cinnamon-brown hair, her smooth creamy complexion and her lovely, oval face. She was not the same woman he remembered. Gone was her sparkle, her quick, easy manner that twinkled like summer stars. Sure enough, Tim’s loss had been hard on her.

She wasn’t alone with that.

Strange how God worked, he thought, as he ducked against the draft from the blades. While he hadn’t seen her in years, time and the rigors of active duty hadn’t obliterated her from his memory.

Why was it so easy to remember the good times? They flashed through his mind unbidden and unwanted. Seeing her picture for the first time when Tim had dug it out of his wallet after joining their battalion. Meeting her at a bowling party when their scheduled picnic had been rained out—typical Seattle-Tacoma weather. Hearing about her in the letters Tim read when they’d been sharing a tent and griping good-naturedly about their time in the desert. Those were innocent times, before he’d lost one of his lifelong friends. Before he’d had to deal with the harsh realities of war.

“On three,” their sergeant barked, and they lifted her into the chopper. Hawk hopped in after, glancing at Crystal, stabilized and prepped, before his gaze lingered on September’s face. Even in the harsh light, she was beautiful.

“You want me to call anyone?” he asked her, taking her good hand, careful of the IV. “Your mom?”

“Don’t trouble her. I can take care of myself.” That was it, no more explanation. She didn’t meet his gaze.

He could feel the wall she put up between them like a concrete barrier. Was she mad because he had missed Tim’s funeral? His plane had come in late. He’d flown halfway around the world, and military transports weren’t the most on-time birds in the sky. Had she been alone? Tim’s brother, Pierce, had been there, but he couldn’t remember the details, like if her family lived nearby. Anyway, he and Pierce had flown out that night, leaving her desolated in the cold rain.

“Anyone else I can contact?”

“There’s no one.” She turned her head away and swallowed hard, as if she were in emotional pain. The shadows hid her, but he could feel her sadness.

The captain tapped him on the shoulder. Time to go. He hated that he couldn’t say goodbye; she didn’t want to hear it. He hated what his presence was doing to her. Some memories were best left buried. He knew how that was.

His boots hit the ground, and he got clear. Dirt rose up in clouds as the bird took off, hovering off the ground for a moment as if battling gravity, then turning tail and lifting purposefully into the starless black.

“Was that September Stevens, Tim’s former fiancée?” Reno asked as they watched the taillights grow distant.

“Yep.” That was all he could say. Something sat in his throat, refusing to let him say more. He, Tim and Pierce had all been buddies since they were kids. They’d been neighbors back home in Wyoming, running wild in the foothills of the Rockies. They’d called themselves the dynamic trio back then, naive kids in a different world. War had changed that. War changed a lot of things.

He thought of September and her broken heart. There was some serious pain there. He felt for her, but it was why he kept clear of relationships. His life as a Ranger wasn’t conducive to long-term commitment. It was his experience that love didn’t necessarily grow fonder half a world apart. What he did was dangerous. Tim hadn’t been the only soldier buried over the recent conflicts defending this country’s freedom. He couldn’t justify putting a woman through that, waiting and wondering, fearing with every phone call or knock on the door that he was dead. Seeing September was all the proof he ever needed of that.

He couldn’t say why, but she stayed on his mind, a sad and beautiful image he could not forget.