Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

G il wasn’t sorry Jess didn’t release him as they walked through the shadowy cave. It felt almost as though she’d forgotten that she held his elbow. He waited until they were nearly back to the smaller cavern, the pounding of pickaxes louder and louder, then leaned in close to talk.

She tightened her grip, and he hesitated. She turned a smile on him he barely caught in the shadows, but her eyes held a bit of a wild look, one that screamed, Don’t speak .

He pulled back, then gave a little nod. Did she think Jedidiah had followed them? It was possible.

Gil strained to hear the sound of footsteps behind, but the pickaxes drowned out everything except the swish of Jess’s skirts. He’d have to be patient and wait to ask his questions when they were away from this place.

They passed through the smaller cavern without stopping, though all the men there acknowledged them with a nod or a smile.

Gil wanted to stop and speak to Ezekiel again, maybe ask about Sampson. Surely the older man knew him. Maybe he’d even taken him under his wing, been a sort of father-figure. Sampson was only twenty, after all.

But Jess didn’t even slow her steps, like she was set on a course out of these caves.

He couldn’t deny the urge for daylight himself, and away from this deafening racket.

At last, they slipped between the boulders into the bright morning light. Was it still only morning? It felt like they’d been in darkness for two days.

Jess kept walking, her hold on him propelling him forward, as though Jedidiah marched behind her with a gun jabbed in her back.

He allowed himself a glance over his shoulder to make sure that wasn’t actually the case.

No one followed.

Gil kept silent as she led him away from the cave entrance, straight toward the edge of the trees lining the base of the next mountain over.

At last, when they’d taken several steps into the shelter of the woods, she slowed, turning to face him as she exhaled a long breath. "I'm sorry." She spoke barely above a whisper. "I didn't expect Jedidiah to be there." Worry lines etched under her eyes.

He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "It's all right. We got through it."

She gave a weak smile that was more of a grimace. "Usually, he's with Father. I thought the two of them would be making plans for while Father leaves with us."

He tried not to show his own worry. "Do you think it's bad he knows you took me into the caves?" How much of her fear was paranoia instilled by her father, and how much was due to true danger?

She sighed, her gaze drifting past him. "I hope not. Father didn't tell me not to. He allows me to tend the men who are sick or injured, so I have to make rounds to learn who needs help." Her eyes met his again, unease swirling in their depths.

"But you're still worried." He didn’t state it as a question.

She nodded, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip. "Jedidiah...he has a way of twisting things, of making even the most innocent actions seem sneaky."

He swallowed against his tightening throat. They had been trying to sneak. From Mick and Jedidiah’s perspective, Gil could be planning to hurt their operation. At the very least, he planned to take away one of their workers and steal back hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of sapphires they hopefully had stored around here somewhere.

He intended to take down part of the evil kingdom they’d built in this mountain wilderness.

First, Sampson.

"I need to find a way to speak with my brother. Is there a time when your father and Jedidiah would both be occupied? The noon meal maybe?"

She shook her head, her eyes going wide. “Not then. Father will expect you at the table to eat with him. If you're not there..." She trailed off, but he could imagine the consequences she feared.

"But didn't you tell Ezekiel you would come by to tend to him then?"

Her mouth pinched. "I usually serve Father's meal, then go check the men. Father will expect you to eat with him though."

The alarm in her eyes made his chest ache. What had her father done to her to plant such fear? He wanted to ask her, but the timing didn’t feel right. For now, they needed to make a plan for him to see Sampson.

But later, when they had a chance for more relaxed conversation, he needed to know what Mick McPharland had done to such a precious woman. Gil swallowed the bile in his belly. Hearing what had been done to her would surely stoke his anger, but he couldn’t help to ease her worries until he knew their root.

"All right." He gentled his tone. "I won't do anything to put you at risk. Where do the men sleep?"

Her lips pressed. "There’s another cavern on the east side of the mountain. It serves as their bunkhouse." Her eyes pleaded. "But Gil, there are other men to worry about too. Jedidiah has eyes and ears everywhere. I don't even know them all."

They’d placed their bunkhouse in a cavern too? He couldn't imagine a life where men never left the darkness of those caves—not to work or sleep. What had driven Sampson to choose this existence over their ranch? It couldn't be for the fortune—they all had as much as they could want from their own sapphire mine.

Independence then?

A flash of anger surged through him, directed at their older brother Jericho.

Gil had warned Jericho this would happen if he didn't loosen his vice grip on their younger siblings. Things had seemed better these past couple years since he’d married Dinah, but apparently not enough for Sampson.

Gil had to get to him. He’d offer to help him start over somewhere else, somewhere he didn't have to live like a cave rat.

He'd sneak out tonight and find Sampson. He wouldn't tell Jess though—it would only worry her more.

Forcing a reassuring smile, he gave her hand a small squeeze. "It'll be all right. We'll figure something out." Even as the words left his mouth, he prayed they held truth.

Lord, guide my steps. Help me reach Sampson and get him out of this place. And keep Jess safe.

As they emerged onto the path, the rugged face of the mountain loomed before them. Somewhere inside those dark tunnels, his brother toiled.

Gil's jaw tightened. One way or another, he would find a way to help Sampson. To bring him home.

No matter how hard that goal became.

S urely, it had to be midnight.

Gil eased his bedding aside and sat upright, listening for McPharland’s steady snores. The man had been sleeping for at least an hour now. No one could fake those snuffles and wheezes. God willing, the man wouldn't wake.

Jess’s steady breathing in between her father’s racket proved harder to hear, but he caught pinches of it as he pushed up to a crouch.

He stilled, waiting for a reaction from the woman sleeping on the narrow bed beside where he lay on the floor. When her breathing remained steady, he grabbed his boots, then stood, not daring to breathe. He tiptoed in his stockinged feet, carrying his boots as he slipped around the curtain and across the open stone floor to the exit. The sparse furnishings in this chamber made it simple to keep from running into anything.

As he eased past the exterior door curtain, a chilly wind swept over him, carrying the scent of earth and pine needles. He slipped his boots on, then paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim moonlight filtering through the trees. Jess had said the bunkhouse was located on the east side. It would be a shorter distance to go right, but it might be better to go left and circle around the base the way she’d taken him the other times. With a deep breath, Gil traced their steps from earlier, hugging the base of the mountain as he crept.

The rough stone scraped against his shoulder when he passed the western entrance, concealed by the cluster of cedars. A few minutes later, he reached the southern opening where they'd entered earlier that day, between the two boulders. He slid a look to his right, toward the woods she’d led him into so they could talk.

In the scant moonlight, nothing moved.

He picked his way slower now, since he didn’t know the terrain. The grass grew higher here, covering low boulders. In the shadows from the quarter moon, it became hard to tell the difference between soft underbrush and unforgiving stone.

More than once, he misjudged a shadow. One time in particular, he stepped over what looked like a rock, and his footing gave way into the soft grass. He stumbled, scrambling with his other foot for purchase. His toe struck hard stone, jabbing pain through his leg.

He bit back a grunt. As he regained his footing, a whisper cut through the night air, so faint he might have imagined it.

"Gil."

He froze, his heart hammering. Had he imagined the sound? It might have only been the rustle of grass.

Then a shadow moved by the rocky cliffside, and a figure separated from the stone.

He made out the familiar shape of Sampson in the darkness. Gil’s breath rushed out as relief sagged his body.

What was his brother doing out here?

Sampson motioned for him to follow, then turned and walked away from the mountain.

Gil trailed him, keeping his steps light. They wound through clumps of trees and around low boulders, keeping the mountain's ominous presence at their backs.

Finally, Sampson stepped behind a large boulder, tall enough to hide both of them, even when standing. When he turned to face Gil, moonlight reflected in his eyes.

Gil soaked in the sight of him, but spoke quickly, keeping his voice to a whisper. "How are you?" Sampson had bulked more through his shoulders—heaving a pickaxe everyday would do that to a body, though he’d been muscled enough to start with.

His brother shrugged, but his features remained guarded. "Fine."

That hardly seemed possible after his time here, but they had no time to argue. Not tonight.

"We don't have long," Sampson said. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, obviously." His heart pounded from the tension of trying not to be discovered. "I've come to get you out of here."

Sampson crossed his arms and tilted his head, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You had to get married to do that?"

An image of Jess flashed through his mind, with her startling beauty—the way he first saw her on the side of the mountain. Despite everything, he couldn’t help grinning. "The opportunity fell into my lap."

As quickly as the smile came, the reminder of Jess’s father swept away every happy thought. "I promised Jess I would get her out too. But I need to know some things first." Best to start with the most important question. "What does Mick McPharland do that keeps everyone here living in terror?"

Sampson’s face hardened into a grim line, and he spat onto the ground. "He's a cruel man. Jedidiah’s no better." He gazed back where they'd come from, but the boulder obscured their view.

When Sampson turned to him again, his focus held steady. "I watched Jedidiah shoot a man dead in the mine the day I got here. The poor fellow asked a question. I never heard exactly what he’d wanted to know."

A shudder ran through Gil at the picture formed. The last thing he wanted was to imagine his little brother witnessing such a horrible act.

“That wasn’t the only time,” Sampson said. “I've heard rumors about them killing family members of men who dared to run."

No .

Was that why Sampson stayed? Gil had to get him out. Surely all the Coulters together could protect their family from the reaches of Mick McPharland and Jedidiah.

"No one leaves once they’ve started,” Sampson said, answering his unspoken question. “Some of it's the pay, which is decent enough. But mostly, they stay out of fear." His gaze bored into Gil's. "Everyone's afraid Mick will hunt them down or find their families if they try to leave."

The words churned in Gil’s gut. He swallowed hard and forced the next question out. “What about Jess? What does he do to her?”

"His daughter?” Sampson shrugged, dropping his gaze back to the ground between them. "I don't know much about her situation."

Frustration pressed through him. Not that he would expect Sampson to know her well. But did Jess have no one she could confide in? No one who helped her?

Maybe Ezekiel?

Sampson lifted his eyes again. "I’ve never spoken to her, but she comes up here once or twice a day. She only talks to the men who are sick or injured, and Ezekiel tells her who they are."

He would have to learn Jess’s secrets from her then. But one thing Sampson might know… "Have you found the sapphires they stole from our ranch?"

Sampson’s eyes narrowed. "Forget about those.” His gaze hammered into Gil. “They’re not worth getting killed over.” He nodded toward the mountain behind them. "You take your new wife and get out of here as quick as you can." He paused to swallow hard. "Pretend you never heard of Mick McPharland."

Gil clenched his fists to keep from grabbing his brother’s shoulders to shake some sense into him. “I'm not leaving without you."

The sapphires didn’t matter, not compared to convincing Sampson to flee. "Come with me. You don't belong here."

His brother wouldn’t meet his gaze now.

Gil pressed. “Don’t you want to get away from here?" Please say yes.

But when Sampson finally looked up again, he shook his head hard. "I can't leave yet."

Yet?

"Why not?"

Sampson took in an audible breath, then let it out slowly. His voice was so low, Gil barely heard the words. “This is the place I have to be right now. To learn what I need to.”

What kind of answer was that? "Learn what?"

Sampson shook off the question. "Take the girl and go."

He started forward, past Gil and around the boulder the way they’d come, and Gil shifted to follow. Just before Sampson stepped into view of anyone who might happen along, he faced Gil one last time. The hardness had left his expression. "It's good to see you, Gil."

If only the circumstances could have been different.

Gil’s throat ached. "We miss you. Everyone's worried."

A hint of a smile tugged at one corner of Sampson's mouth. "Tell them I’m fine. Now go on home." With that, he turned and walked back toward the mountain.

Gil had no choice but to do the same.