Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

A heavy silence settled in Father’s wake. Jess’s knees trembled, and as Gil turned to her, realized she must look awful.

His brows drew together, and he gripped her elbows, holding her upright. “Let’s sit down.” He half-guided, half-carried her to her chair at the table.

She had to push past this weakness. Her father hadn’t hurt Gil. Hadn’t even tried to. She should be relieved. Maybe that’s what this was—relief. Yet why was panic welling in her chest so thick she could barely breathe?

Gil pulled his chair around the corner of the table so he could sit beside her. His thigh pressed against her skirts, but the contact felt secure. Steady. Everything about Gil made her feel secure.

He propped his elbows on the table and leaned in. It seemed like he didn’t know what to do with his hands, but then he closed his palm over her hand. His grip was solid, the calluses on his skin only adding to the feeling of security. This man worked an honest job for a living. He wasn’t manipulative and scheming like her father.

Father’s hands had always been smooth yet hard. Father was as different from Gil as the darkness of the cave from noontime sunshine.

She let herself meet Gil’s eyes. Let herself soak in their warmth. Let her body relax, streaming out the tension with her spent air.

He was waiting for her to speak. No hint of hurry in the air between them. She had to find a way to thank him. Words wouldn’t begin to voice everything inside her, but she could start there.

“Thank you, Gil.” Her voice cracked on the second word as emotion surged through her. Why was she having so much trouble controlling her body these days?

An easy smile met his eyes, crinkling the corners. “I’m glad I could help. I don’t think it went so bad either.”

She could only gape at him. “Were you part of the same conversation I was?”

That twinkle in his eyes was enough to throw any girl off-kilter. “Sure. He’ll settle in to the idea. I think we’ll become good friends, he and I.”

She nearly choked on the breath she sucked in, which kept her from saying her first response. He must be jesting. His smile meant he was teasing surely. If he knew her father, he wouldn’t joke about the situation.

Then his expression sobered. “Anyway. Could I see my brother now?”

She glanced toward the door curtain. They still had several hours left in the day, but she didn’t dare take Gil through the passageways where they were most likely to be seen by her father. Not yet.

She returned her focus to her new husband . I don’t think it’s safe to take you to Sampson yet. We’ll talk to him tomorrow. After my father has had time to adjust to…things. We can see him from a distance though. There’s an old tunnel that’s not used anymore where we’ll be able to look down on the cavern where Sampson’s working.”

She pushed to her feet and started toward the wall where she hung her wrap.

“Jess, wait.” Gil sounded more serious than she’d heard him yet. Enough to give her pause.

She turned to face him.

Gil had followed and now stood far closer than she’d expected. She had to tip her chin up to meet his gaze.

Confusion marked his expression, and maybe a bit of wariness. “What does my brother do here?”

She should probably tell him everything. They’d come too far to withhold details now. And he’d more than accomplished what she’d hoped with her father. “Sampson works for my father. In the mine.”

Gil’s brow gathered even more. “For your father? What did you say his name was?”

The weight in her chest threatened to cut off her breathing. “Simon McPharland. Most people know him as Mick.”

Gil’s expression shifted from confusion to worry to…something else.

She took a step back.

He didn’t look angry. It was the recognition she saw. How did Gil know her father? Must’ve been by name only, for neither had seemed to recognize the other.

Father’s name was known widely. She knew this.

But how did Gil know him?

She’d thought he was different, not associated with any of the lowlifes her father mingled with. Could Gil only know of him through his more reputable endeavors?

No. The clarity in Gil’s eyes, the way his mind seemed to be putting pieces together, the way he now looked at her …

Did he learn about her father because of his search for Sampson?

If only she knew how and why Sampson had come to be here. She didn’t usually want to know those details, didn’t want to be part of her father’s false dealings. She could do nothing to stop him, and knowledge of his actions would only infuriate her—and maybe make her do or say something she would regret.

So she kept her focus on caring for the men when they were hurt or injured. Sampson had experienced neither, so she only knew him in passing.

Gil straightened, then motioned to the door curtain. “Let’s go then.”

Something in his manner was different now. He still wore a pleasant expression, but it seemed more focused, as if he had a plan he intended to act on.

Did she dare take him down to the mine? What if he did something that made himself stand out. What if he tried to sneak away with his brother?

She couldn’t let him leave without her.

She softened her voice. “Maybe it’s best you stay here. I’m not going all the way into the mine. I should be able to watch the men from a distance. If there’s something amiss with your brother, I’ll see it and let you know. It will be harder to stay quiet if there are two of us. I’ll take you to talk to your brother tomorrow.”

The lines around Gil’s eyes softened. It must have been determination she’d not been able to identify a moment ago, but it eased now. “I won’t make a scene, Jess. I promise. I just…well, I didn’t realize your father was Mick. Sampson mentioned him once, and I figured I’d find my brother somewhere around him.” He shrugged in an almost self-deprecating way. “I guess I did. I won’t cause trouble. I won’t take a step unless you tell me to. But I’ve looked a long time for my brother. It’d mean a lot if I could just lay eyes on him, see for myself he’s all right.”

She searched for any hint of duplicity, any sign he might be trying to wheedle into her good graces. He looked sincere, he’d proved discerning when he’d spoken to her father.

“All right.” She hoped she wouldn’t regret this. “But stay with me. And be quiet.” She didn’t know for certain Father would be angry if he caught her bringing her husband into the mine, but she’d rather not learn for sure.

G il followed Jess out of the cave, slipping around the cloth door and out into the sunshine. She’d brought a lantern, but it certainly wasn’t needed out here.

She must be planning to go into another cave.

As before, he had to lengthen his stride to keep up with her quick step. She’d clearly traveled this path many times.

And it was a path, but not one he’d have ever found if not for her. She led him around the base of the mountain that contained her cave home. The tall grass on one side concealed the trampled dirt they now walked.

He kept his voice low. "Is this the way your father went?" If so, they might meet him coming back. Would the man expect them to have stayed in the house?

"No, he would have taken the inside cave."

Inside cave?

She veered left, behind a cluster of cedar trees no taller than he was. He had to turn sideways to follow, with the cliff wall at his back and branches scratching his face and hands.

A narrow cave opening soon became clear beside him. How many hidden entrances into the mountain were there? And how long had she and her father lived here? It didn’t seem possible they could have kept the openings and paths so hidden for years, but Jess maneuvered them like she’d done so all her life.

She lifted her lantern as they stepped into the darkness. “Stay close and be quiet.” She spoke just above a whisper, still not glancing back to make sure he was there. Maybe she wanted to lose him. More likely, she could hear his noisy footsteps. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t keep his boots as quiet as hers, especially not now, with all the loose gravel littering the stone floor.

He tried several different ways to land his feet and finally settled into the one that made the least noise. It helped that this stretch didn’t have much gravel.

Jess stopped abruptly and set the lantern down. She turned to him, her face half in shadow. "We go on without the light. You have to stay quiet."

The importance of that last statement hung between them. With the lantern casting odd long shadows over her face, he couldn’t read anything in her expression except seriousness.

What did she fear?

Too late to ask now.

She crept forward, and he stayed close. As they left the lantern behind, darkness pressed in, heavy and blinding.

He reached out to make sure he wouldn’t run into anything. In this thick black, he couldn’t be certain whether he was about to slam into a rock wall or a jutting stone. His toe kicked a loose stone, sending it clattering against the wall. Like a gunshot in the stillness.

"Shh!" Jess hissed so low, it almost sounded like a breath.

The noise didn’t come from ahead of him though. More to the right. Perhaps he had been about to walk into a wall.

“Take my hand.” Her words might have been only a thought.

But then her fingers brushed his wrist. He slid his hand until her palm fit against his.

She started forward, nearly dragging him the first step until he caught up. When this woman set her mind to do a thing, she wasted no time.

He settled into the same stride as her, walking just behind but not so much that he would step on her heels. In the murky darkness, her hand provided something solid to focus on. Her skin was soft at first contact, but when he concentrated, he could feel a slight roughness on her palms and fingertips. She was no stranger to hard work, like most women who made their home in the west. But Jess’s life seemed so different than those of his sisters-in-law that he wouldn’t have been surprised if her skin were pale as milk or soft as honey.

Reality was far better though. She was the perfect blend of feminine grace and competence.

She was so small, her hand nearly engulfed by his. Yet her grip possessed a wiry strength, much like the woman herself. He didn’t have to hide his grin in the darkness. Jess McPharland was like no other woman. Thank the Lord he’d come upon her. What if she’d asked another man to play her pretend husband?

His chest tightened at the thought of someone else holding her hand in the darkness. Some cad eager to take advantage of her.

Or even a decent man, come to think of it.

This was his place.

Which made no sense whatsoever, except the rightness of it sank deep inside him. He might have stumbled into far more than he’d expected today, but he couldn’t be sorry he’d met Jess.

He nearly chuckled, remembering when they’d spoken to her father. She must have decided she wouldn’t be able to convince him of the truth of her marriage, so she’d added that bit about being in the family way. Jess was sharp, no doubt about it.

Thankfully, he’d have her far away from these caves before her falsehood became clear. No telling what her bully of a father would do or say if he learned she’d lied about all of it.

Jess led him around a corner.

Wherever she went, he would go too. Who knew what threat might loom in this darkness. She was so small. That feeling welled up in his chest again—that overpowering need to protect her, to shield her from any danger or threat. No matter what the cost.

It was irrational to feel so deeply about a woman he’d just met, but there it was, as solid as the stone all around him.

If he’d doubted her story, her father’s behavior proved all she’d told him. She'd lived under her father's thumb and was desperate to get away, certainly to escape before being forced to marry a man she didn’t love.

Gil couldn't let any harm come to her. Especially here, in this suffocating darkness where peril might lurk.

A steady pounding rose from up ahead. He realized he’d been hearing it, but now the rhythm was loud enough to distinguish from his own heartbeat.

Metal striking metal. Or maybe stone. The sound grew louder as they advanced.

A faint light appeared ahead, and Jess's pace slowed. Her grip on his hand tightened. Was she nervous?

Just ahead, the rock wall on either side fell away, and the ground changed to a wooden bridge spanning a deep chasm. Jess slowed just before the bridge. She inched to the place where the railing met the rock and peered down.

Gil had to rise up on his toes to see over her head.

About fifty feet below, five men struck the rock wall with pickaxes. It only took a moment to find Sampson, his wiry frame unmistakable even at this distance.

His brother swung the pickax three more times before a chunk of stone broke free. He dropped to his knees and ran his hands over the rock, his movements eager, almost desperate, as if he were mining his own sapphires rather than toiling for Mick McPharland.

Gil's heart clenched.

What kind of hold did Mick have over Sampson to make him toil away in this godforsaken pit? What poisonous promises had the man fed Gil's little brother to keep him enslaved here, scrabbling in the dirt for another man's treasure?

Gil tightened his grip on the railing until the rough wood bit into his palms. Somehow, he had to get through to Sampson, to free him from Mick's clutches before something happened to his brother. The question was, how?

And he had to find a way without endangering Jess in the process.

His throat itched to signal Sampson—to whistle the sound they used on the ranch—something to let him know his big brother was here now. That he wasn't alone.

But he'd promised Jess he'd stay hidden and silent. He eased back so he could try to read her expression in the dim light. Her brow was furrowed as she watched the men below, her lips pressed into a thin line.

She met his gaze with gathered brows, maybe worried he’d do exactly as he wanted to do, exactly what he’d promised not to do.

He offered a single nod. He wouldn’t betray her.

He turned his attention back to Sampson, who was now using a hammer and a smaller pick to chip away at the stone he'd separated. His brother's movements were practiced, efficient, evidence of all the years he’d helped in their own mine. Sampson preferred to work with the animals, but they’d all spent long days cutting out the sapphires.

After a few more minutes, Jess tugged on his hand, motioning for them to go back the way they'd come. He backed away, letting her take the lead. He kept her hand as before while his mind spun. He'd come here to find Sampson and bring him home. They could leave tonight if his brother were his only concern.

But he had to recover the sapphires stolen from their mine—an entire wagonload of fully packed crates, worth over two hundred thousand dollars. He couldn’t leave without the sapphires, which they’d toiled to gather for an entire year. His brother Jude had worked the hardest. He’d been the most devastated over their loss. Gil couldn’t stand the thought of Jude coming after Mick himself. He couldn’t lose another brother to this man.

He could simply ask Jess where the sapphires were, but he dismissed that idea just as quickly. She had already risked so much by bringing him here, by agreeing to let him see Sampson tomorrow. Would she answer him truthfully if he asked? He didn’t know her well enough to say for sure.

Maybe Sampson knew where the sapphires had been taken. Then the three of them could take back the gemstones and sneak out tomorrow.

He prayed that was the case.

In the meantime, he needed to prepare for Mick's return this evening. Keeping on that man's good side would likely take every ounce of charm and tact Gil possessed, especially knowing now that this man had stolen from Gil’s family.

The falsehood about Jess being in the family way made the whole scheme even more complex. That particular lie couldn't hold forever.

But Gil would get her away long before that. Away from the dark caves and her father's iron grip. Every person deserved so much more than this shadowed half-life. And he wanted to be the one to show it to this woman.

The rightness of that desire settled deep in his bones as they finally reached the lantern. In the flickering light, Jess's face was drawn and pale. She started forward again, whispering over her shoulder. “Let’s get back before my father returns.”

Mick McPharland. From what Gil had learned, the man was as cunning as he was ruthless, and one wrong move could spell disaster—for Gil, for Sampson, and for the woman who walked ahead of him, the woman he'd vowed to protect at any cost.