Solitaire

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Solitaire Page 22

by Lindsay McKenna


  “God,” he groaned against her soft, yielding mouth, “you taste so good…”

  “Hold me, Slade. Just hold me, please…”

  In one motion, he got to his feet and joined her on the cot. Cat blindly found his arms as the first sob wrenched from her. Slade murmured her name brokenly, burying his head beside hers as she cried. He rocked her gently, whispering words of comfort.

  “We’re good for each other, sweetheart,” he told her comfortingly. “Sometimes I’m weak and you’re strong. Sometimes I’m strong and you’re weak. Like tonight; you took one hell of a risk on that curve. You could have turned the wheels too sharply and that Jeep would have rolled over instead of sliding off the cliff. You knew what you were doing.”

  Cat sniffed, trying to wipe her nose. “It was pure luck, Slade,” she said, hiccuping through her tears. “I’m not a racing-car driver.” She looked up at him, taking the clean handkerchief he tucked into her hands. “I never even thought about the Jeep flipping over.”

  He grinned, running his fingers through her freshly washed hair. “What matters is the outcome, Cat. You made a perfect skid, giving both of us the time we needed to jump clear. In my eyes, you’re the female equivalent of Parnelli Jones.”

  Cat laughed, but it came out as a hiccup instead. “I was scared to death, Slade. I-I didn’t know if you’d caught on to what I was going to do. I didn’t dare look at you…”

  He held her lightly against him, allowing Cat to bury her head beneath his chin. “Must have been mental telepathy. One look at the set of your jaw and I knew you weren’t going to go down without a fight.” Slade pressed a kiss to her clean-smelling hair. “More important, this has taught me a lesson, Cat.”

  She closed her eyes, reveling in Slade’s protective arms around her. Now she felt secure and safe. “What?” His heartbeat was slow and strong beneath her ear, soothing away the remnants of her emotional storm.

  “You remember out in the jungle, when you told me you loved me?”

  Cat was afraid to nod her head, but she did. Automatically she rested her hand against Slade’s chest, as if to steel herself against what he might say. “I didn’t know if we’d live or die, Slade,” she began in a hoarse tone. “I know you may not feel the same, but that doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

  “How long have you loved me?”

  Cat closed her eyes. “I don’t know. You just kind of grow on a person, Slade.”

  “Like mold?”

  She laughed, her hand slowly unclenching. “You make loving another person sound like a virus.”

  “Isn’t it?” And then he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her hair.

  “No.”

  Slade closed his eyes, relief washing through him. “What I feel for you, Cat, I’ve never felt with another woman.”

  She pulled away from him and sat up, looking deep into his eyes. “Think we’ve got the same virus?”

  A grin tugged at his mouth. “I don’t know. Maybe we ought to compare symptoms. What do you think?”

  Cat couldn’t help but match his widening smile. The warmth and tenderness in Slade’s eyes made her feel cherished. “This is a hell of a way to find out we love one another.”

  With a shrug, Slade picked up her bruised right hand, cradling it in his own. “People like us have to be hit over the head with a sixteen-pound sledgehammer, sweetheart.”

  “You made me aware of how lonely I’d been, Slade. And despite our shaky beginning, I really enjoyed your company those two months I spent at your ranch. I liked talking to you.”

  “And I liked just looking at you.” Slade grazed her cheek with his. “Do you realize how beautiful you are to me? Every day, I’d count the hours between breakfast and lunch until I could see you again. And then I’d count them between lunch and dinner.”

  “You didn’t have to hole up in that office of yours, Slade.”

  “At the time, Alvin and I were coordinating all equipment details being moved from the U.S. to Colombia. I was getting men from his ranch and working with the State Department on visas and passports. It was a couple of busy months for me.”

  She gave him an accusing look. “If you weren’t in your office, then you were in your hobby shop grinding those gems.”

  He held up both hands, laughing. “Guilty as charged. I wanted to spend more time with you, but I felt if I did, you’d interpret it as me wanting something from you. Your health came first, not the project I had wanted to discuss with you.”

  “Touché,” Cat murmured, realizing Slade was right.

  “Still,” Slade murmured, cupping her chin to make her look up at him, “I fell in love with you anyway.”

  “Because of my looks?”

  “Other things, too,” he said patiently. “I like the way your mind works. I was as starved as you were for those times when we could sit and simply share time and space with one another, Cat.” Slade leaned over, his mouth caressing her parted lips. “And more than anything, I like you, Cat Kincaid. You make no apology for being yourself.”

  Cat quivered. “A lot of men are threatened by me.”

  “That’s their problem, sweetheart. If they can’t deal with an intelligent woman, let them turn and tuck their tails between their legs and run.”

  Laughter bubbled up in her throat and Cat rested her head tiredly on his broad shoulder. “I love you, Slade Donovan. For better or worse.”

  “It’s gotten worse lately, hasn’t it?”

  She nodded, exhaustion flooding her as Slade held her. “I thought my fear of the mine was my worst enemy. Now I know there’s something worse–guaqueros.”

  “Things will settle down now, Cat,” he promised her. Slade gently positioned her on the cot and he lay down beside her. Pulling the protective mosquito netting over them, he murmured, “Just keep Bogotà in mind. If we’re lucky, we’ll get there in less than a week.”

  “What’s in Bogotà?” Cat asked, her voice slurred with exhaustion.

  “A surprise for you. It’s something I’ve been planning all along…”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cat stood out in the burning sun. It melted the knot of fear that insisted on staying inside her every time she had to step into the Verde. In her hand was the torque meter, ready to test rock bolts recently secured in the newest section of the mine. It was a crosscut sheering off to the left that would follow the vein. Yet something was nagging Cat and she tried to pinpoint the unsettling feeling. The sky was an unusual pale yellow, something she’d not seen before over the Colombian jungle. Then she smiled to herself: Colombia had taught her a lot of new things.

  As she walked into the shadow of the busy mine, Cat centered on its positives. Slade had promised her a weekend in Bogotà more than a month ago. That hadn’t materialized because he’d ended up having to take El Tigre to the capital and file charges against him. Slade had returned a week later, after they had finished dynamiting into the crosscut to follow the abrupt turn of the vein. They had dug almost three-quarters of a mile into Caballo when the vein suddenly plunged down and to the left. Up to that point, very little emerald-bearing calcite had been found. Verde was looking like a lost cause. The open pit, on the other hand, was rich with emeralds. The mine was not.

  Cat nodded to a group of sweaty, dirty miners as they trudged out toward the entrance. It was noon, and time to eat. Her stomach growled, but she ignored the signal. Testing the rock-bolt tension was more important, and with the miners out of the way, she could do it more quickly. The darkness between the electric lights strung on each side of the adit always reminded her of the fear. At times claustrophobia nearly overwhelmed her, but she fought it. Her fingers tightened around the torque meter, and Cat moved her gaze up and down, automatically checking posts and stulls.

  The crosscut came into view and she slowed. Standing at the Y, she was reminded of the mine in Maine that had nearly claimed her life. Lips compressed, she began to check each one of the newly placed rock bolts on the manging wall, concentrating on her job wi
th one part of her mind, and thinking of Slade with another. He would be back today! He had been gone for three days, testifying once again in El Tigre’s case in Bogotà. Cat smiled, remembering Slade’s disgruntled comments that if he’d known about all the governmental red tape awaiting him, he’d have let the guaquero go. Soon, Cat promised herself, stretching up to place the torque meter on the next bolt, soon we’ll have that weekend together.

  Their relationship had subtly changed since the night they had admitted their love for one another, Cat thought. They had grown closer, establishing a friendship so powerful that she was sometimes awed by what they had created. It was a good feeling, Cat admitted, hearing the telling click, and checking the meter to read it. Making a note on the pad she always carried with her, she moved on to the next bolt. How she ached with love for Slade. Stolen kisses and passion shared late at night, bone-weary with exhaustion, was their only consolation. Soon…

  “Cat?” Slade’s voice echoed off the light green walls of the shadowy Verde.

  Cat gasped and spun around. He was back! Before she could leave the crosscut, she saw him appear far above her at its lip. Despite the shadows, she saw his mouth turn up in a devastating smile of welcome. Her heart wrenched powerfully in her breast and she set the torque meter down as he approached.

  Taking off his hard hat, Slade lifted Cat into his arms, crushing her against him.

  “Mmm, sweetheart, you not only smell good, you feel good,” he growled.

  Her laughter was silvery as she threw her arms around him. “Slade! You’re back early.”

  He sought and found her ripe mouth, then allowed Cat to slide down across his body. “I missed you,” he said thickly, claiming her.

  Slade’s breath was moist against her cheek and she returned his hunger with hers. “I need you,” Cat whispered huskily, holding him tightly.

  With a groan, Slade held her. “No more than I need you, my beautiful lady.”

  Alone in the silence of the shaft, Cat languished in his arms, smothered with his volcanic desire, wildly aware of his hardened body against her own. Just the salty taste of his skin and the odor that was uniquely his overwhelmed her senses until she was dizzy with need.

  Shuddering with a primal urge, Slade gently eased Cat from him. His eyes were burning with undisguised hunger as he stared down at her. “We’re going to take off for Bogotà tomorrow morning. How does that sound?”

  With a cry of elation, Cat hugged him. “Wonderful! Then this court business with El Tigre is wrapped up?”

  Slade grinned. “Finally. He’s getting twenty-five years at hard labor.”

  “Good.”

  “How’s the crosscut looking?” Slade wanted to know, reluctantly releasing her.

  “No better than the rest of the vein, so far,” Cat admitted, motioning him to follow her to its end.

  Slade scratched his head, then settled the white hard hat back on as he listened to her explanation of the recent dynamiting. The Verde itself was a major disappointment. Millions of dollars had already been sunk into securing the mine. He watched as Cat ran her fingers over the vein, which disappeared into the seven-foot-wide limestone wall that signaled an end to the crosscut until they could do more blasting.

  “I’m having the miners on the second shift come down here with picks and crowbars to try and find some calcite.” She motioned to the pile of tools and the five safety lamps placed there earlier that day.

  Slade ran his hand over the vein, shaking his head. “I just don’t understand this, Cat. I did extra channel sampling over this area to determine its feasibility.” He glanced at her, his brows knitted. “Those small emeralds I showed you from the pouch were from this vein. It doesn’t make sense that we haven’t run into the calcite again.”

  “Listen,” Cat explained reasonably, “you know gem mining isn’t a very safe bet. Maybe your Texas luck held and you tapped into the only nest of calcite and emerald the vein carried when you made your channel sample. That’s happened before.”

  He grimaced, his face glistening with sweat. “Ouch. Don’t even say it.”

  “Well, if this crosscut doesn’t yield something soon, I’m going to recommend shutting this portion of the mine down, Slade. You can’t keep funneling money into a worthless operation. We both know that.”

  Slade stared at the limestone wall in front of them, his mouth twisted. “Yeah, I know it. Damn! I’ve just got a sixth sense about this vein. I know there’s emeralds somewhere in this thing. I can almost taste it.”

  With a gentle smile, Cat reached over and touched his sun-darkened arm. “You’ve got green-fire fever, Slade. That’s all.”

  “We’re doing so well out in the pit. Matter of fact, what we’re finding out there is keeping us from going into the red with the mine.”

  Cat gave him a sympathetic smile. “Count your blessings, Slade. At least the pit is yielding. One out of two isn’t bad. You could have gone bust on both, you know.”

  He smiled and took Cat into his arms, kissing her long and tenderly. “You’re my blessing, sweetheart,” he told her thickly. “Green fire is one thing, but you’re far more important to me–”

  Slade’s head snapped up, his arms tightening protectively around her. Cat felt the earth quiver once. A sound like a freight train started deep in the bowels of the earth, rolling toward them with frightening speed. Cat’s eyes widened.

  “Slade–”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  The earthquake struck with lightning fury. In seconds they were both knocked off their feet as the earth buckled and groaned. Cat struck her head on the footwall and was knocked semiconscious. Slade was hurled over her as the second wave of the quake shuddered through the mine. Rock began to fall from the manging wall as rock bolts snapped in half like guns being fired at close range. Dust spewed through the crosscut behind the avalanche of rock that fell to the footwall.

  After the last of the tremors, Slade got to his knees, cursing and coughing violently. He reached out to find Cat, panic eating at him.

  “Cat?”

  “I-I’m okay,” she said, and she struggled to her knees, wiping blood from her mouth. The dust was suffocating and Slade fumbled with the handkerchief she had around her neck.

  “Lie down,” he gasped.

  Cat lay on the pebbled hardness of the footwall, the cotton handkerchief folded across her nostrils and mouth to act as a filter against the deadly dust. Slade joined her, his body against hers, to protect her from further injury. She hugged the wall, trying to stop hyperventilating. Trapped! They had been trapped by an unexpected earthquake! The grayish light on her hard hat was the only source of illumination in the chamber.

  “I wonder how much rock fell?” Slade muttered, all the while listening for other sounds. It had been a sharp quake, and there were bound to be aftershocks.

  “Not much, I hope. Are you okay?”

  He heard the terror in Cat’s voice, and kept his arm wrapped tightly around her. “Yeah. Hurt feelings more than anything else. You?”

  “Bump on the head, nothing more.”

  “You’ve got a hard head.”

  “Yeah.” She snorted. “Slade?”

  “What?”

  “How much rock do you think fell behind us?”

  He tried to keep his voice cool and free of his own fear. “Probably not much. If we’re lucky, most of those rock bolts held. Don’t worry, Alvin will have us out of here pronto.” He forced a laugh for her benefit. “He doesn’t want to lose his chief geologist and the best mining engineer in the world.”

  “No, he’ll come and dig us out because we appreciate his cowboy cooking so much,” Cat rallied.

  Slade chuckled. “Lady, I love the hell out of you.”

  Tears tracked through the dust on her face, but Cat didn’t want Slade to know she was crying. When she spoke, the words came out staccato. “I love you too.”

  “We’ll get out of this, Cat, I promise you.” Slade slowly got into a kneeling position, keeping
a hand on her shoulder. He located his hard hat, plugged the jack into the battery pack he carried around his waist and turned on the light. “Stay here by this post. We’re bound to get aftershocks. I want to see just how far up the crosscut that cave-in occurred. Do you have a portable radio with you?”

  Cat automatically patted her side. “Yes. I’ll try and contact Alvin while you check out the wall.” The gloomy darkness swallowed up Slade’s tall figure. Cat licked her lips, realizing that this time there was no water to slake her thirst. She pulled the dusty radio out of its protective leather case at her side. Her heart sank as she switched it to the On position. The red light did not blink to indicate it was working properly. Then she remembered hitting the footwall first with her hip and then her head. The radio, when she held it directly up into the light from her hard hat, had a large crack running vertically through the tough plastic casing. Alvin wouldn’t know if they were alive or dead…

  She pushed trembling fingers through her dust-laden hair and returned the useless radio to its case. Cat rose to her feet. Oddly, she was calmer than she would have thought. As she turned to examine the damage to the end of the crosscut, a gasp tore from her.

  “Slade! Slade, come here! Quick!”

  He came on the run. “What?”

  Cat grabbed him by the arm and dragged him over to the wall. “Look. My God, look at this, Slade.” She pointed toward the vein.

  Slade’s breath jammed in his throat as he lifted his head and settled the light on the area she was pointing out. The quake had opened up the vein, exposing what appeared to be an endless green crystalline structure more than two feet long, which disappeared into the wall where blasting hadn’t yet taken place.

  “Green fire,” he whispered hoarsely, reaching out and tentatively touching the nearest emerald crystals.

 

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