by Lexi Post
She didn’t try to lift her head from his shoulder, instead speaking past him. “Did I wake you?”
He swallowed again. “Yes, but I think you scared Copper.”
“Copper?” She turned her head.
Copper sat next to them, watching her as if she’d disappear on him.
She pulled her hand out from between them and reached for the dog, who backed up. “What happened to my…” She pushed away, and he let her go.
She looked back to where she’d been sleeping. Even in the dim light, the brown stains on the grey stone were obvious. “Fuck.”
Finding his own equilibrium again, he reached for his light. “I need to clean your hands. Where’s your phone?”
She nodded to the small outcropping with the water bottle.
Quickly, he grabbed it up and turned it on, switching his own phone off. Picking up the water bottle, he started to reach for the towel, but it wasn’t there. That’s right. He used the second half for his pillow. Crap.
Riley stood. “I don’t think they’re that bad.” She held out her hands for him to see.
Not bad? The nails were scraped, and cracked with jagged edges, and she’d rubbed the skin off the tips of her fingers. How long had she been doing that? She must have been pushing hard against the unforgiving rock. His stomach roiled again at the implications. “Is this how you dug your way out of that cave?”
She moved her gaze from her hands to his face. “Yes. There was nothing in there I could use, not even rocks. Just more sand. I used my knife to chip off chunks, but they just fell apart when I tried to use them, and my knife moved less sand than those spikes we used.”
“You used your hands.”
She shrugged. “It was all I had. I lost every nail, but as you can see, they grew back.” Despite her nonchalance, she couldn’t hide the shiver as she returned her gaze to her hands.
That had to have been an excruciatingly painful experience. “Well, let’s get you cleaned up and assess the damage.”
She nodded, still inspecting her hands.
Now he’d have to use his other sleeve for rags, but he couldn’t very well ask her to help him rip it off, not with her hands like they were. There was no help for it. Setting the phone against the wall, so the light was angled downward, he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the knife from his back pocket.
Resisting the urge to turn his back on her, he slipped off his shirt and quickly cut his right sleeve off.
“What happened to you?”
He stilled at her question before continuing his movement to shrug back into the now sleeveless shirt. “Fire.”
“That must have been a freaking inferno.”
With his right sleeve gone, there was no hiding the scarred mess his arm was. He sighed and finally met her gaze. “It was a wildfire, so yes, I believe that qualifies as an inferno. Now let’s get your fingers cleaned up before infection sets in.”
She snorted. “Compared to the number of days that they looked worse than this when I was buried alive, I doubt that will happen.”
He grabbed up the water bottle, acutely aware that his arm was now exposed. Snatching up the light, he pointed to her “bed.” “That may be, but this is a different type of gravel, and I’ll not allow you to suffer anymore under my watch. Sit.”
“You’re watch?” Despite her words, she sat.
He knelt next to her. “You must have heard the term before.” He ripped his sleeve length wise and then in quarters. Setting the dirty side down on his thighs, he wet a corner of the first rag.
“Sure, but what makes this your watch. Maybe it’s my watch.”
He immediately dismissed the first justification that came to mind. Telling her it was because he was a male wouldn’t fly nor did it sit well with him. He’d always respected women in the fire service and treated them like their male counterparts. He’d been brought up on a ranch run by his mother, yet certain lessons about a cowboy protecting his woman and his home were engraved deep into his psyche. Not that she was his woman, but he definitely felt as if she were in his care. “Let me have your hand. It’s my watch because I’m not injured. Not to mention, I’m trained in first aide. Are you?”
“I was years ago, but in this case, I imagine your training is more recent and extensive.” He could feel her gaze on him, but didn’t dare look to see if she was watching his ministrations to her left hand or staring at his right arm.
“How’d it happen?”
That cleared that up. “Someone decided they had to set off fireworks for the Fourth of July even though there’d been a fire ban in Yavapai County since Memorial Day. The forest went up like a tinder box.”
“Duh? I hope your department caught the bastard.”
He grinned, even as he carefully removed a pebble from under the skin of her index finger. “That was the easy part. His neighbors were pretty angry since the fire headed for their homes. They lucked-out though. The wind shifted.” He took another rag, carefully folding it over her fingers. “Make a soft fist to hold this in place while I work on your other hand.”
She did as he instructed then held out her right hand. “Did the wind shift back?”
In hind sight, he wished it had. “No, it moved through Prescott National Forrest northward for days until it threatened a group of homes when it shifted suddenly to the east.” He hadn’t thought about the fire in detail since his nightmares had stopped, yet he could see everything in his mind as if it were yesterday. Lucky him.
He switched his focus to her hand and wetting another rag, gently cleaned away the dirt. He jerked as he felt the brush of the back of her hand on his right arm.
“Does it hurt?”
He closed his eyes for a moment at the incongruity of the situation. She was the one with fresh wounds, but she took her injuries in stride as if she expected them. Opening his eyes, he finished cleaning her little finger. “No. I’m just not used to anyone touching me. It’s not a pretty sight.”
Riley moved her gaze from Garrett’s arm to his hands where he gently tended to her. There was far more to this firefighting cowboy than she’d realized. She’d been so caught up in trying to keep her inner scars from showing, she hadn’t recognized he might have his own scars, and from his reaction, he wasn’t happy about them.
She looked at his face, silently urging him to meet her gaze. “When was the last time someone touched your arm?”
He shook his head. “I don’t remember. Probably my last physical therapy session.”
Physical therapy? For burn scars? She jerked her gaze back to his arm. Were they that bad? The light was diffused and gray, but she could clearly see the bumps and patches that may have been skin grafts. “Was it just your arm?”
He lay another cloth over her left hand. “Make a soft fist.”
As she did as he instructed, she waited for him to answer her question. When he rose instead and put what was left of their water back on her rock shelf, it was clear he didn’t plan to. “That must have been painful. I had soldiers in my first unit who’d been on the wrong side of an IED. Their pain was excruciating until we could get them to a surgical team. Both times I wished they’d pass out, but they didn’t.”
She paused as she remembered her first deployment and seeing both men at the base after she was sent home. “When I returned stateside, one had gained a prosthetic leg and a newborn son. The other had lost his hand, and a chunk out of his thigh, but he was doing okay. He was in school training for a new job. Something in cyber security.”
Garrett, who was usually the talker, remained eerily uncommunicative. Instead, he returned to his sleeping spot and turned out the light.
Guess they all had their scars to contend with. He’d obviously healed and functioned better than she did. She had to respect that. Laying down, she started to roll on her side to face the wall and froze.
What if morning came and she was digging again? Grasping the soft clothes in her hands, she rolled to her other side to face Garrett. Based on his bre
athing, he was definitely not asleep. She really should soldier-up, but as she’d learned in bootcamp, her unit was only as strong as the weakest member, and right now that was her. As much as she hated it, she had to ask for help.
“Garrett, can you do me a favor?”
“Yes.”
His immediate, unconditional response made her smile. The imp in her wanted to ask for something outrageous like a bowl of apple-cinnamon ice cream or for him to have sex with her. Her humor vanished. And what if he agreed…to the sex part. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone in two years. It was tempting, especially with him. Not only was he a good-looking cowboy, but he was a good man, a hero, which made it all that more outrageous. She was anything but.
“What do you need?” His voice in the dark had softened as if he wanted to coax her to trust him.
She already did, implicitly. She hadn’t trusted anyone since she left the service. You haven’t gotten close enough to, you idiot. That’s because getting close means making a connection.
Connections to people just ended up causing pain. It was better alone. Yet, she and Garrett needed each other in this particular situation. Her father had always said, trust your team. Survival is in the team. Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke. “Will you hold my hand?”
She couldn’t quite bring herself to explain why. To admit she’d do more damage to herself was too big a leap. It exposed her weakness too blatantly.
“Of course. I’ve laid mine on the rail. You find it with your hand. I don’t want to do more harm by searching for yours in the dark.”
Yup, definitely the hero type. Relieved that he understood or didn’t but didn’t ask why, she searched out his hand with her own. She found his palm facing up on the rail, it’s rough, scarred surface warm against her own palm. She hadn’t held anyone’s hand for more than a handshake in so long. So long, she didn’t remember. But it felt good, plus it had the benefit of keeping her locked facing the rail and not the wall.
When he’d begun to make his “bed” right next to hers, she hadn’t been happy, wanting her space, wanting to be alone. Now, she was glad he did. No matter what she wanted, what she needed was to accept that they were a unit until they escaped from the mine. After that, they could simply go their separate ways.
Listening to his breathing, she risked one more question. “Did you happen to see what time it was?”
“Yes, it’s just after four. No reason to get up yet.” He gave her hand a small squeeze as if to say she needed more sleep.
He was right, she did. Squeezing his hand in silent agreement, she closed her eyes and focused her mind on the last brilliant sunset she’d witnessed, the reds and oranges streaking across the sky as they danced to celebrate the dying day.
~~*~~
“Riley?”
She heard the voice whispering in her ear, but she didn’t want to move. Her bed was comfy, and she deserved this, deserved to finally be on vacation and to sleep-in for a change. That’s what Caribbean islands were made for.
“Riley, we should get up now.”
She snuggled in closer. The man she held was warm and strong and smelled like warm earth after a summer rain shower. “I don’t want to.”
A chuckle reverberated in the chest beneath her cheek.
“I’m okay with that, but I don’t think I can hold off Copper much longer.”
Copper? Who was Copper? She didn’t have any men in her unit with that last name. Confused, she opened her eyes to ask and found it pitch black. What the hell?
A wet tongue on her right arm had her quickly rolling to the side and sitting up. “Eck.”
The man next to her laughed. “I think Copper is going to make for a great alarm clock.”
Garrett. The mine. His voice along with the darkness and the dog’s wake-up call brought her present reality back in a rush. Shit, had she been sleeping on Garrett? He must think her completely crazy. She ignored the flush in her face and focused on the dog. It was easier. “Glad he won’t be waking me up.”
Obviously clueless to what she’d said, Copper jumped on her, his target her face. “Seriously, dude?” She kept him away from her face with one hand while she petted him with the other. “I’m happy to see you too, or rather feel you, but you don’t see me slobbering all over you.”
That brought another laugh from Garrett. “I think he’d be happy if you did.”
His voice rose as he spoke, cluing her in to the fact he’d risen. “My guess is Copper is looking for two things.”
She stood as much to keep the dog from her as to get up for the day, such as it was. “My guess is he wants food and to pee, not necessarily in that order.”
The light came on, showing Garrett found the whole situation amusing. Did the man not realize they were still trapped in the mine?
He moved toward her. “How are your hands?”
She held them up, having completely forgotten she’d scraped the hell out of them during the night. “As for manicures, you probably need practice, but my fingers are nicely scabbed.”
He took one hand in his and held the light close. “They’re okay for now, but you can’t dig. You’ll rip them open.”
“Garrett, I did that every day for eleven days last time and came out alive.” She’d been dehydrated, had a fever, and dysentery as well, but he didn’t have to know that.
His brows lowered. “This isn’t Afghanistan, and you are not alone. You can talk to me while I dig. I doubt there’s far to go.”
If he thought she would sit on her hands while he did all the work, he was in for a surprise. But first things first. “I think we should all take a trip to the bathroom before we contemplate anything else.” She nodded in the direction of the tunnel before glancing at the dirt they had pulled away from the cave-in yesterday. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“What?” Garrett turned. “Well, fuck me. We can’t catch a damn break.” He strode to where the gravel had quietly filled in the area they had cleared, making it look as if they’d done nothing but laze around all day yesterday.
Her heart sank. It was just like back in Afghanistan. She’d half-expected it, but had hoped the different type of soil and the shape of the mountain would be in their favor. So much for hope. “We’re still better off than I was overseas, so let’s take care of the necessities first,” She pointedly looked at Copper who had moved down the tunnel as far the light beam went and stood there looking back at them. “Then we can come up with another plan.”
Garrett strolled closer to the dirt pile moving the light so Copper was no longer visible.
Though sure the dog hadn’t moved, it still made her uneasy. It made no sense when she’d slept the whole night not knowing where Copper was. Actually, she’d slept soundly once her hands were treated, oblivious to everything, even the fact she’d jumped the rail with her body to lay with Garrett. What did he think about that? Irrationally irritated, she called him. “We can look at that later. Copper has left without us.”
At her tone, Garrett swung around. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
He didn’t say another word as he led the way. As soon as the light lit on Copper, she relaxed. This time she’d count steps back. She could return without him in the dark and he could have some privacy. At five hundred, he stopped.
“Here you go.” He held out her phone. “I’ll wait here.”
The man was a gentleman through and through. She wanted to say she’d shared a head with men before, but didn’t mind not having to. Some of them were pigs. “Thanks.” She took the phone and angled it so it revealed the ore cart he had set on the rails the day before. It was about a hundred more steps away. “Come on, Copper.”
As if the dog knew his new name, he followed her. When she stepped into the small room, she brought Copper to the far wall. “Okay, you can pee now.”
The dog looked at her his tail wagging, his gaze moving from her to the wall.
“Oh, come on. You remember this.” She shined the light on the wall u
ntil she found where he’d peed the day before. Moving closer to the spot, she pointed, her finger only inches away. “Here. Smell this.”
Copper licked her hand before his nose sniffed. Once he caught the sent, he immediately lifted his leg.
She stepped back quickly as he sprayed the wall with a strong steady stream. Shit, the little guy had a big bladder! When he finished, he nosed around and promptly squatted.
She moved out into the tunnel.
“Everything okay?” Garrett called out.
She moved the light to see him. He leaned against the tunnel wall, his arms folded, his feet crossed. In the dark, he looked like the perfect cowboy. “Yeah, just waiting for Copper to finish.” She waved her hand in front of her face to indicate the smell.
His chuckle was back.
Inordinately pleased with herself for bringing back his good mood, she swung the light back into the room to find Copper trotting toward her, obviously quite pleased with himself. “You done?”
The dog sat at her feet and pawed at her leg.
Her heart sank. “I don’t have anything for you.”
Copper pawed again. This is why she didn’t own a pet. She sucked at taking care of them. “Go see Garrett.” She pointed her hand in Garrett’s direction and lit up the area.
Copper’s eyebrow rose. He looked at Garrett and back at her.
“Go ahead.”
After another double take, the dog finally headed off. She reached into the ore cart and grabbed a carbide can of dirt and brought it back into the room to cover the dog’s poop. Returning to the cart, she scooped another can of dirt. For a little dog, he had a large digestive system.
After taking care of her own needs, she headed back to where Garrett waited, Copper sitting beside him. “It’s all yours.” She handed him the phone. “I’m going to go back and have a mint. I wish I had something to give the dog.”
“You can give him one of your mints. You did say they were from a natural store, right?”
She glanced at the dog. “Yes, all-natural ingredients. I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Feeling better that she could at least offer the dog something, she moved to the left side of the tunnel. She’d laid her finger tips on the wall before realizing that wouldn’t work. She’d have no fingertips left if she did that.